#no matter how much praise I hear
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You know what's annoying about Neil Gaiman? Occasionally he'll do something good. And I can't accept that. I can't reconcile the fact that gave me nightmares as a kid with the fact that he can do good things, once in a blue moon. Thinking about Neil Gaiman inevitably ends with me wanting his head on a stick for messing me up.
#I hate neil gaiman#I can't forgive him#no matter how much praise I hear#I can't do it#comics#comic books#anti neil gaiman#autism#asd#neurodivergent#neurotic#neuroticism#easily scared
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except that im mentally dead, i’m good
#i know its my concerta crash 80% but man being outside of my comfortzone for hours#does things to me too. like clockwork the mental exhaustion hits at 15 and its like someone pulled the plug#brain stopped working properly sorry only simple words used for me now i cant process#i got praise at work today tho so that made me feel too happy....#its deppressing how happy i am to hear anything encouraging or someone saying i do good#not hearing any of that growing up just made it something so major for me now#i'm going to be so fucking dead friday tho. hate how much energy goes away from me even if i just do small things#i know its my brain and how it works......... but my god...... i'd like an 'full energy battery' thats not normal peoples like 50%#cant tell if its my period thus my hormones speaking or if im in an episode#i think im just so fucking lonely haha....... i always feel that way but since moving on my own its bad#and the last moth its been worse too.... idk man. medication making me feel fine but also im like (: i need love and closeness#doesnt help that all my fave people have been away for diffrent reasons so i just feel lonely#not that im helping the matter bc im not contacting or telling anyone bc that would be out of line and bad so im just#here as usual i suppose? can still not get passed the idea that i exsist outside others needs for me#stuck in the mindset of always having to put others first and do whatever they want and idk how to start. im already an#big enough problem for people i dont want to make it worse for anyone dealing with me#miranda talking shit#negative#???
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#this fanmeeting broke my heart#after more than two years; a marriage; two babies; and a court trial that proved those were false rumours from a male antifan;#everytime chanyeol or jongdae spoke one could hear less than half of the cheers; way more than half of the audience would go quiet.#i missed the exo's so much! but the majority of kfans?? these people are so ridiculous.. how could they do this to our boys?#chanyeol isn't the mood maker anymore; jongdae isn't praised by the amazing singer he is;#wtf was that?#i love the exo's all to pieces; i wish them the best and i hope they are well and happy and doing what they love!#but these fans hurt everyone today; way more than i was expecting.#i know it's okay and it will be okay and cc will find the people that matter to then both as family and as fans.#i know these two amazing humans will thrive and are happy and so loved and i know they also know it <3#and i'll make sure i'll do my part for them too.#exo#we are one#saranghaja#<3
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a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again
speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life
a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.
summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.
word count: 3k+
pairing: old man!logan x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.
He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.
He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.
Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.
Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.
He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?
Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.
It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.
Until you said his name.
Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.
You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.
After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.
His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.
He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.
"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.
The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.
Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.
Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.
His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.
He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.
So slick. So perfect.
Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"
Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."
His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.
If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.
When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.
"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.
His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.
He couldn't live without it.
"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.
The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.
He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.
Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.
"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."
You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."
The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.
"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"
"Uh-huh."
"Take care of what belongs to me."
There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.
The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.
Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.
"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."
He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.
"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.
Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.
You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.
"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."
His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum."
His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.
He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.
Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.
That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.
Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.
So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.
"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.
You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.
"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.
He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.
"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."
"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.
You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.
"It hurts-"
A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"
You shook your head. "B-But-"
"Thought you said it was good."
"It is."
"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.
He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.
But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.
The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.
He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.
You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.
How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?
"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."
The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.
Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.
"Oh-"
Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.
He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.
He could finally be the man you believed he was.
Not the animal they created.
"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.
A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.
Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.
"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."
His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.
You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.
"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."
The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.
"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."
You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."
Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.
The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.
#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#old man logan#my writing
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Resonance
sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!
summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence
wc: 4.5k
a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3
also posted on ao3!
You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place.
A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations.
The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.
Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair.
A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.
The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.
“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”
He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”
He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything .
“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”
Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.
“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.
He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.
A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him.
He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.
“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.
Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”
“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”
He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.
“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap.
His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”
“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”
You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.
“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.
Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot.
“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”
Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.
“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows.
His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.
Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.
He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .”
“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest.
He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push.
“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”
“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup.
“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.
“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words.
“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.
You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.
He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.
“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.
He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.
You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.
He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.
“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.
“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”
He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.
“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”
You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.
“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.
There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.
“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.
You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.”
“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”
A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.
Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.
“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.
You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.
The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.
“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe.
Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.
“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.
He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.
“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”
He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare.
Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.
You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties.
“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.
“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.
He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”
He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers.
“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.
He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.
Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric.
“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”
That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit.
A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.
“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly.
His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”
His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.
“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing.
“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.”
“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.
The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.
“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”
The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.
“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.”
A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.
“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”
“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.
“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”
“I wasn’t imagining-“
“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.
His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.
You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.
“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.”
It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up.
You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.
“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.
“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.
You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep.
“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”
You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.
“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”
You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away.
“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.
He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.
“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”
His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.
“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace.
“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.
“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.
It’s going to be a long night.
#sylus smut#sylus x reader#sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lnd sylus#lnds smut#sylus qin#love and deepspace mc
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• I will always catch you •
ʚ synopsis: You and Nanami play a game of tag, if he wins he spanks you
ʚ cont: fem reader, spanking, fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation
You stood with your hands perched on the back of the couch, your eyes not once straying from where they were glued to Nanami's opposite the couch from you, the only thing that separated the two of you besides the coffee table that sat in front of the couch. "Ten second headstart." You said, already feeling your heart start to pick up at the promise of Nanami chasing you around.
You knew logically no matter how much time you asked for, he would always catch you in the end, but that's what you wanted, not that you would tell him that—even if he already knew. Nanami nodded, removing his hands from his pockets confidently, his mouth barely quirking up in a smile at the corners, the skin beside his mouth dimpling with it. "You won't catch me this time." Lie. "We'll see." Was his only reply before he raised his hands and started ticking down his fingers, letting you know he had started the timer.
You ran around the couch, passing him where he stood on the other side as you ran for the kitchen across the room, using the large island in the middle of it to separate him from you. It was your best bet to escape him for as long as possible, wait him out here, bait him to stalk you around the island, and shoot up the stairs for his office which had the only locking door in the house save for the bathroom, but that was too close to the kitchen, you needed more time to get away.
You watched, eyes bright and heart racing as his fingers hit 1, then he closed his hand tightly, letting you know you were out of time before he started walking toward you calmly. Your smile grew larger the closer he got, as did his, though he was far more cocky and confident than yours which was playful and full of adrenaline. "Aren't you going to run, sweetheart?" Nanami asked, cocking his head to the side as he made his way to the kitchen, standing across the island from you.
"I told you I learned some new tricks, you won't catch me this time." You said confidently, moving slowly toward the corner of the island, trying to bait Nanami into following you. And sure enough, he did. He didn't reply to you, just started walking towards the side in which you were closest to him, making you walk away from him, the two of you slowly circling the kitchen island as you made your way back to the opening of the living room.
You knew not to avert your eyes to his and give away your plans, if he caught you looking towards the direction you were going to run, he would catch you—no doubt about it. Nanami was taller and faster, his long legs eating up the space between you like nothing whenever you ran from him, so you had to be smart about this. "We'll see if your tricks are enough." Nanami finally voiced, stopping in his tracks diagonal to you, him standing where you just were in the kitchen, your positions now reversed.
You smiled at him in response, showing your teeth before you turned abruptly and took off sprinting across the living room. Your heart raced in your chest, the sound echoing through your whole body and making that the only thing you were able to hear. You wanted to turn around so bad and see how close he was, but you knew you couldn't afford to do so. You let out a laugh as you reached the banister on the stairs, gripping it tightly as you pulled yourself forward, using that momentum to run up them as quickly as you could.
You tried not to think about how Nanami often went up the steps two at a time, so if he was running he could probably manage three or more... shit. Your adrenaline was still pumping, making you more assured of yourself as you reached the top of the stairs, sure he wasn't right on your tail. His office was in your sight already as you pushed off the wall and sprinted toward the end of the hall. You were mentally praising Nanami for his constant pushing to leave all doors in the house open unless they were being occupied so the air could flow freely between them, making it so none of the rooms were stuffy—meaning the door was wide open and all you had to do was grab that door and slam it like your life depended on it.
You could only feel your own steps as you raced down the hall, surprised that he hadn't reached the top of the stairs yet, but that meant you had one, you finally had one. You reached the office and grabbed the handle before spinning yourself around and momentarily disorienting yourself before you were snatched into a pair of strong arms and hoisted over a shoulder with a scream of surprise. You felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest and run away at the shock.
How had he got you so fast? You were sure he wasn't on your trail, but apparently, that had been wishful thinking. "Nanami!" You laughed, kicking your legs against him, trying to free yourself as he held you over his shoulder with an iron grip, his arm locked tightly around the back of your thighs so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp. Your laugh was cut short when a harsh smack was left on your ass, the sting making you whip your hands back and cover yourself from him.
Nanami swiftly kicked the door shut behind him and stalked over to his desk, wrenching your hands away from your ass easily in his grip. "This is my reward for catching you, hands down." He said calmly, the deep baritone of his voice making you shiver as he pulled you off his shoulder and spun you away from him, using his body to press you against the edge of his desk and pushing you down on it with his hand on the middle of your back.
You weren't able to resist his moves, the speed of his actions making your body more pliant than you would've liked. The papers on his desk crumpled under your chest as you tried to push yourself up so you could stand again, and maybe try to attempt to run away, though you never had been successful at that before. Kento grabbed your wrists with both his hands and locked them behind your back with strength only he could possess, freeing himself a hand as he kept you at his mercy, rubbing his free hand against the swell of your ass.
"The new trick you tried didn't work so well." Nanami cooed, stating the obvious and making your face feel hot as he rubbed your loss in your face. "Were you planning to lock yourself in my office?" He asked, sliding his hand up and down the side of your body, making your skin prickle under your shirt. "Yeah, I was close too." You said defiantly, trying to gain back even a little bit of your ego. You had been so sure of yourself and now look at the position you ended up in.
"Mmm," Nanami hummed, the deep sound of it in his throat making your legs part willingly for him as he pressed his knee against the inside of your thigh and made you spread them. "What were you planning to do once you were in here?" He asked, making you pause. You looked around his office, thinking on his words. I don't know, relish in your victory? Bait him through the door? Write taunting notes about how he's a loser and slide them under the door for him to read?
"What do you think would happen when you opened the door? You couldn't stay in here forever." He asked confidently. "I'd come out because I would have won." You said quickly, the answer obvious, "There is no time limit on the game." He said, his fingers pushing up the back of your shirt and sliding against the skin of your back, pushing the fabric against your arms that were locked behind your back. The gears in your head started turning as you considered his words.
"What do you mean?" You asked, turning your head as far to the side as you could manage to look at him from under your lashes. "I will always catch you, you can't escape me." You opened your mouth to complain, to whine about how the game has been rigged from the start, how there was no way you could ever win, when a loud slap against your ass stopped your words from coming, a different sound escaping you. Your hands balled into fists as you wiggled back against him, trying to find relief against the sting that never came.
"That's not fair." You pouted. Nanami huffed out a laugh before his large hand rubbed across your backside, his fingers finding the hem of your shorts before pulling them down to pool around your ankles. "No, it's not." He agreed, another harsh smack making contact with your skin, making you jump. Nanami's warm hand stayed against your flesh rubbingaway the pain as he pressed closer to you, his crotch pressed against your left thigh. "But you don't mind as much as you're trying to make me think you do." He said assuredly.
You felt a tick of annoyance run through you before it was almost completely snuffed out by another slap of his hand, this one followed by two more in quick succession against your other cheek. "Why would you think that?" You sighed, trying not to pant through your words and give in to him as much as you wanted to. "This whole game has been rigged the whole time." You complained, your eyebrows shooting up when he pressed his knee against your clothed cunt, making you press try to press your legs together--an action that was stopped by his knee that was knocked into your own, keeping you spread.
Nanami gripped your ass in his hand before leaning over you, massaging the fat of your backside as his weight crushed you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. He rut his hips against your thigh, letting you know how much he was enjoying his win before he pressed a kiss right under your ear. You shut your eyes, a gasp falling from your lips as all complaints left your brain, the only thing you could think of being the weight and scent of him as he consumed you entirely.
"You like it when I chase you, but you like it when I catch you even more." He whispered against your ear, his voice making you clench around nothing. "You're so cocky." You breathed, making him breathe out a laugh before he placed a kiss on your neck, the top of your spine, your shoulder blade. You held your breath when his hand that gripped your flesh slid between your legs, your body welcoming him as you spread your legs wider for him.
You couldn't stop the gasp that fell from between your lips when he pushed aside your panties like they were never there and rubbed his fingers through your wetness before dragging them across your clit. "And you're soaked, sweetheart," Nanami replied, showing you just how right he was about how much you loved being caught by him. But you didn't need him to tell you that, you already knew.
Nanami leaned back from crushing you with his body at the same time he slid his fingers back down to your entrance and pushed two thick fingers inside you like it was nothing—and it might've well been, his fingers getting swallowed up by your wet cunt with ease. The groan that left your lips made his cock twitch in response, the feeling of his hard length against the back of your thigh driving you crazy.
He released your arms from being caged behind your back, which you immediately used to grab the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Just when you were about to beg him for more, he slapped you again, harder this time, your ass stinging at the impact while your pussy tightened around his fingers like a vice. Nanami echoed your moan with a groan of his own as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching of your cunt echoing throughout his office.
"I can feel how much you like it." Nanami groaned, his voice deeper and more assertive with his arousal prominent. "Fuck," You whined, wiggling your hips back to meet his thrusts." Smack, another slap making you whine, a fuzziness starting to build in your mind as he fucked you harder on his fingers. "Tell me how much you like it, honey." Nanami moaned, though it sounded more like a beg as he rubbed his hips harder against your ass, trying to relieve himself on you.
"Kento," You whined, thrusting your hips back against him harder. A clinking of a belt and a zipper following the sound told you Nanami was ridding himself of his own pants. Another slap against your sore ass was all the motivation you needed to answer him, nodding against the desk. "I love it Ken, I love it, it feels so good." You whined, your clit throbbing at the lack of attention as you wiggled back, hoping he would relieve you soon.
You cried out when he pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, "Shhh, don't cry-" His words ended as he slammed himself inside you in one thrust, the stretch and slight burn of the sheer size of him making your eyes roll back in your head as he started up a brutal pace inside you, giving you little time to adjust before his hand dropped to your clit just as you wanted while his other massaged your soon to be bruised ass.
Without his knee between yours anymore, you were able to squeeze your thighs together around his hand as your orgasm wracked through your body, making you scream as he pounded it out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside your soft walls and prolonging your high as his expert fingers matched pace with his thrusts on your clit. "K-kento-" You whined, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist that kept rubbing your oversensitized clit, the pleasure of it bordering on pain.
"I know, I know, honey." Nanami cooed, his voice soft but his actions a stark contrast as he slapped your ass twice, once on each cheek, never once faltering his rough thrusts inside you, "You have to let go, sweetheart. Let go of my hand." He instructed, making you shake your head back and forth violently, only resulting in his fingers rubbing faster back and forth along your clit, it was almost too much.
"T-too much, Kento- f-fuck-" You cried, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you tried to lean forward to escape the pleasure, but he just followed you with his thrusts, knocking hard into your g-spot each time he slammed inside you. "No, it's not, Iknow what you can take." He replied dismissively, massaging your ass in a circle. The two of you had a safeword that had been long established and never used, and you weren't thinking about using it now, so maybe he was right, maybe he did know how much you could take.
You simply whined in response, feeling another orgasm quickly creeping over you, no escape from it in sight. "Let go of my hand, sweetheart, I won't ask again," Nanami said through a groan, his hand briefly coming up to cradle your cheek in a sweet gesture before he slid it back down your body and slapped the back of your thigh. The niceness of his words and the roughness of his actions made it hard to combine them into one person, you almost wanted to curse him out for sounding so unaffected but you knew he wasn't fairing much better than you.
The small sounds of him grunting and cursing under his breath told you exactly how he was doing. Kento's thrusts started losing their rhythm as he lost himself inside you. Begrudgingly, you let go of his hand, your own shaking as you placed it back on the edge of the dest, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping it. "Good girl, I have you, I-I'll take care of you." The sound of Nanami's words getting choked off by a groan made your clit throb under his fingers. It was a fucking headrush knowing how much this man lost himself to you.
"Please-" You begged, unsure of what you were asking for but knowing you weren't going to last much longer. "Let it out, I'm right behind you." Nanami nodded, leaning over your body and wrapping an arm under your stomach, pulling your back tightly to his chest as he humped his cock in and out of you, the stretch and loss of him with each thrust making you go a little dumb in the head each time.
"Cum-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence as you came with a cry at the same time Nanami placed his lips on your cheek and kissed softly, trailing those kisses over your shoulder and neck as his fingers and cock worked in perfect harmony to draw your orgasm out of you. "Coming, I'm coming- oh my god-" Kento groaned through his teeth, his hair tickling your face as he buried his head in your neck and ground his hips flush against yours.
The circular movement of Kento's hips against your ass made your legs shake with sensitivity as his fat tip rubbed against your g-spot as he emptied his balls inside you. A warmth filled you from the inside out with each kick of his cock as he came, rope after rope of his seed filling you just like he did every time he fucked you. A loud, low, continuous groan left his throat as his balls throbbed with his release, his fingers finally ceasing their rubbing against your clit as he went still, basking in his orgasm while keeping himself inside you.
You reached a shaky, weak amr behind you and grabbed the back of his neck, gently scraping your nails up along his neck and trimmed undercut of his hair. Nanami hummed in satisfaction before he lifted his head and found your lips with ease, kissing you gently and lovingly, like the two of you had all the time in the world and nothing would ever separate the two of you.
He pulled away and looked at you, a content expression on his face. He leaned in to press one more kiss against your eyelid before he pulled back entirely, smoothing his hands down your sides as he pulled out of you, making the both of you moan at the missing contact of the other. You already wanted to whine about how empty you felt, but you knew you could have him whenever you wanted so that feeling didn't last long.
"My ass hurts." You complained, breaking the silence as you were now finally able to feel the full extent of his actions without a clouded mind. Kento laughed as he pulled your panties back in their rightful place, keeping his cum stuffed inside you as he patted his fingers over your cunt before dropping down and sliding your shorts up your legs. "I'm sorry, my love. I'll take responsibility." He said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"You gonna massage my ass all night?" You asked, pushing your body up and leaning against the back of the desk, not yet ready to fully rely on your shaky legs yet. "Of course, I was the one who bruised it after all." Kento nodded as he buckled his belt back into place before stalking forward and caging you in with his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck like you've done a thousand times and let him lean in to kiss your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist to help you stand.
"Good." You said, relishing in his kisses before speaking up again, grabbing ahold of his face and pulling him back so you could look at him properly before you asked your question. "Was the game really rigged this whole time or were you just saying all that to be sexy?" Nanami smiled at that, his own hands grabbing your cheeks as he placed a kiss to the top of your head, to lessen the blow of his inevitable answer you knew was coming. " You know it is, I will always catch you."
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanamin#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#kento x y/n#kento x you#jujutsu kento#jjk kento#kento smut#kento x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you
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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★
━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎
you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.
every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.
nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.
except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.
he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.
you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.
and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.
eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.
these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!
it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!
so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.
"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.
toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.
"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."
crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!
"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."
having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.
it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.
"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.
no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?
"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"
whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.
"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.
"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"
"make me."
you blink.
a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.
ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.
"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."
catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.
his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?
as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.
oh.
oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?
curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.
fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.
propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in-
"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."
"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.
toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.
and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.
but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....
fuck.
he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.
"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"
"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.
the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.
he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?
when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."
toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.
wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.
"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.
toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.
you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.
"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.
has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.
his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.
his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.
he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.
"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."
scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.
it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.
"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."
those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.
good boy. you called him a good boy.
the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.
he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.
"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like
"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.
he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.
"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."
oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.
he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.
"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."
"that's my good boy."
once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.
"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."
feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.
he needs it.
he needs you.
needs you so fucking bad.
feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.
he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?
"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"
shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?
feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.
when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.
"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"
you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.
tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.
ah.
it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.
"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"
"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"
"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"
"they didn't."
that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?
...guess you need to find out.
shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"
the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.
while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.
"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.
melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.
despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.
"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.
but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.
his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.
“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.
meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.
"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."
it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.
toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.
"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"
he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.
"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."
you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.
"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."
“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”
you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.
"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."
god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.
"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."
you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"
he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.
"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."
the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.
they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.
"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."
toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.
he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."
one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.
"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.
"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.
it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.
the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"
you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.
your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.
"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"
with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.
his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"
still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"
you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."
"heh. fair point."
you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."
"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"
"my god, toji, you are nasty."
"but you like ittttt."
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.
soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.
he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.
as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.
...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.
all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff
#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji x black reader#jjk x black reader#black fem reader#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji fushiguro x black reader#black reader#🔪 ── toji.#˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.”
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”
And then the live is over.
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.
…
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.
He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
…
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.
"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.
…
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
…
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer.
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
…
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised.
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.
…
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.
“Hi, Sweetheart.”
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise.
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg.
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah?” You whisper.
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#female reader#camboy!eddie#camboy!eddie munson#soft!dom eddie
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backstage bukakke with ateez ♡
a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭
w.c: 2.4k
warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3
Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.
“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.
“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.
San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”
You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”
He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”
You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.
Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”
Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.
San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”
Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”
His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”
The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.
“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.
San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.
-
“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”
You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.
“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”
You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”
“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”
You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.
“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”
All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.
“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”
“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”
Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”
San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”
“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”
San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.
“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.
San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”
All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.
San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve.
“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place.
“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.”
“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.”
“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?”
Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.”
“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”
“You can watch our slut suck my cock.”
Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over.
It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side.
“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks.
Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.
San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”
Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.
“Please!”
Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum.
Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.
“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear.
“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip.
“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.
You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”
The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”
San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez mingi#ateez x reader#san smut#san x reader#yunho x reader#wooyoung x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung smut#yunho smut#mingi smut#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#kpop smut#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong smut#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut
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THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH
pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader
genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).
word count. 12.2k+
warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]
summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.
a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion. also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!
When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.
Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.
By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.
The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.
Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”
Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”
She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”
Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”
You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?
Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.
It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway.
All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.
“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.
“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.
Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”
Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.
When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.
The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.
Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?
Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process.
The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.
Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.
You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.
So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.
A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?
“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.
You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”
“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.
She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”
Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing.
You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.
Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”
The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.
Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”
“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”
She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.
While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.
This really is worse than Halloween 2007.
“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”
“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”
You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”
Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.
Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.
A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.
“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”
“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”
“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”
“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well, neither are you.”
His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.
And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes.
You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat.
Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”
“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”
Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.
There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.
Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.
“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.
“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.
He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.
“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”
Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.
“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”
Great.
You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”
Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.
It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.
After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.
You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.
Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.
Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.
One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.
The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.
You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”
Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.
He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.
Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.
Men.
He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”
You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”
Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”
He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”
You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”
“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”
This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”
Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”
A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”
Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.
He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends.
Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.
“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”
Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.
“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”
Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.
“Yell at you? For what?”
“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”
“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.
He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”
You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.
You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.
Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.
Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.
You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.
To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other.
The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.
But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.
“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.
He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”
“That doesn’t even sound possible.”
“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.”
It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.
Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.
When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words.
Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now.
You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”
Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.
If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.
You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do.
His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.
Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.
“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.
“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.
“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”
Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.
Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”
Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”
In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?
You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”
What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.
While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.
“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.
“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”
“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”
“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to.
Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”
The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her.
You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”
Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”
Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.
Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.
“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”
You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.
Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.
Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.
That other part was probably true, though.
You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best.
Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.
Fuck, are you really about to do this?
Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween.
But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.
Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”
“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.
“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”
Thank God.
After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way.
You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.
The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.
Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”
The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.
Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”
You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.
“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”
Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”
You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.
This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off.
He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.
You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.
Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.
“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”
They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.
Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”
“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.
“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.
“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”
Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.
Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.
“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”
“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”
“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”
Minnie? Fuck is that about?
Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”
“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.
“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”
You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”
On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…
“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.
Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.
Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.
Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.
“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.
“What?! Why?!”
“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”
This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.
Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”
“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.
Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”
He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.
It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”
Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”
“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”
Halloween fucking sucks.
You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.
Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you.
He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”
Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”
It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.
You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.
Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.
He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.
What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.
Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.
"And say what? That I'm with you?"
Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."
That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.
You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.
Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.
As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"
"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.
Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"
"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.
"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
You hate that even now, you find him cute.
"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.
"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."
Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"
"The full story isn't important, Yuna."
"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."
"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."
Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.
You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."
The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."
"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."
"And what will I get out of this?"
Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.
"Well, what do you want?"
"I don't know…a normal older sister?"
"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"
Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.
"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."
You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."
"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.
As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.
You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you.
What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.
You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.
"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.
"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."
"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."
Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you.
Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night.
You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.
"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump.
He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".
You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"
Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.
"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.
The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.
The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.
The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.
Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.
Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.
The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.
"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock.
He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.
The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.
Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.
After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.
The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"
"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.
"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."
Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.
He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.
"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.
Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."
Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.
You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader.
"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon.
"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.
The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.
On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily.
Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.
You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat.
When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.
Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like, telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um, later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.
And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."
You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.
you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*
you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much
you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please
yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/
Harsh but true.
You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.
Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."
Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat.
The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.
Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.
You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.
"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.
You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.
Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"
He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.
"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"
Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"
"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.
"Um…yeah. I know."
"Okay…how?"
"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"
"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."
Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.
Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."
"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.
"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."
You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.
You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.
You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.
"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.
You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.
Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"
You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."
He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"
When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."
"It isn't."
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"
This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.
Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.
In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?
Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.
The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.
You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.
He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."
You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.
"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.
You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."
Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."
"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.
Fuck.
"Sunghoon…"
"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction.
You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.
He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him.
His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.
Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.
"Wait, Sunghoon—!"
Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."
You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.
His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.
Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.
Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"
"No, please don't." You beg.
"So this is okay then, right?"
If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"
Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.
You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.
It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.
But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.
The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.
The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."
He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the
front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."
It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.
"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"
Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.
You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.
You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away.
"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body.
He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.
After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.
"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."
He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.
You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.
Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.
You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.
"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"
He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"
You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."
It's music to his ears, really.
Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.
"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.
"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."
He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."
You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."
Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.
Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.
Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.
He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.
"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.
You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"
"Please, I need you to."
Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.
The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.
He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.
"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.
"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."
"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.
He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.
You nod, "Please, keep going."
He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.
The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.
Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.
Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.
He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."
Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."
He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."
"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."
Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.
"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.
"Yeah, why?"
"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."
You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"
"I can pay for your Uber home."
"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."
"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."
You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"
"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."
Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.
"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.
Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.
The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place.
In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days.
Three weeks. And Three days.
#enhypen smut#enhypen imagine#park sunghoon#sunghoon smut#sunghoon imagine#lee heeseung#sim jaeyun#jake sim#enhypen scenarios#kpop imagine#kpop smut#kpop scenarios#sleepyhoon
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Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.
hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡
men that make it fit | 18+
warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you.
Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you.
Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure.
And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is.
Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you.
“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.”
But can you take his cock?
Fuck—what if it’s too big?
It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you.
“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.”
But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him.
“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?”
He always is—and that’s the thing.
No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.
He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin.
Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock.
“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours.
“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?”
You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him.
You want to feel him and make him feel good.
And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him.
“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”
He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole.
“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”
“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”
Which is true—you always did but—
It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—
You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed.
You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already.
“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.”
Then he pulls back—
“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy.
“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.”
Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—
Fuck.
You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in.
Just like he said you would.
“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.
You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—
And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.
He loves you too much, anyway.
End.
Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡
Masterpost
#bokuto x reader#oikawa x reader#ushijima x reader#atsumu x reader#suna x reader#gojo x reader#choso x reader#geto x reader#bokuto smut#oikawa smut#ushijima smut#atsumu smut#suna smut#gojo smut#choso smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#akaza smut#akaza x reader#odasaku x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo smut#kuroo tetsuro x reader#nanami x reader#nanami smut#hinata x reader#hinata smut#sakusa x reader#sakusa smut
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,, Love Quest ''
Background character male reader x Protagonist oc
Part 1 Part 2
Tw/s: dub-con at the start, dacryphilia, rough sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds.
In a world where everyone's assigned a role they have to be, you were one of the many unlucky yet common ones to get the role of a background character. One who couldn't even interact with the protagonist if you wanted. The way it works is through the system. There is a system that essentially controls the world. This system can create scenarios, assign roles, etc. This whole world was built by it. Everyone has to obey it, excluding the protagonist themself, that is. Some even say it's possible for the protagonist to control the system itself but, that's just a rumour.
Of course, the role with the most power is the protagonist. Anyone would dream to have that power. To be the protagonist and have everyone fawn for you, throwing themselves at your feet, worshipping your every step. Not only that, his love interest is the best of the best, the prettiest girl you'd ever be able to lay your eyes on, the one you'd never be able to get with if you weren't the protagonist. Just like any other previous protagonist in this world, the current one is an extrovert, River Sterling. He's a perfect guy in every way. He's very well known due to being the protagonist, but also, he is very talented. It's as if there is nothing he can't do. He's even the top 1 on campus. Very rarely is he seen getting anything under an A+. Despite everyone constantly praising him and falling at his feet, he remained humble.
Just like any other day, you enter the building with books in your hands. You had to return these to the professor after borrowing them for a day. No matter how much you studied, you always remained top 2, and because of that, you were annoyed by River. Of course, it's not his fault that he's the protagonist, but you couldn't help but still feel negatively towards him. Going up the many many stairs, you overhear a girl yelling, maybe at a guy? You're not sure what kind of situation it is, but you guess it is a fight between a couple. "You never even spend time with me! Am I not enough!? Destiny binded us together, and yet here you are, doing nothing to please me, your girlfriend!", it sounded like Aria, the protagonist's main love interest. "Aria, well how would I be able to spend time with you when I feel nothing towards you", River says with a nonchalant tone, shocking you a bit, you've never heard him using that tone before. You stop in your tracks, right in front of the door, where you can hear Aria yelling at him. "Y-you...what!?", you can hear Aria say in disbelief. "H-how is that even possible! I'm who you're supposed to be with, I complete you, I'm your other half!", even without being able to see her, you can tell she's tearing up, probably with a red face. Though despite her crying, you don't hear River comforting her. Which is again, very out of character for him.
Next thing you know, you hear a very loud slap accompanied by running sound towards the door. Before you could even react, the door swings white open, a blonde haired girl running out of the room, knocking you down in the process. You stare at the direction she runs to. "Who are you, why did you eavesdrop", you turn back to River, looking down at you, glaring, even. His once gentle eyes seem to be clouded. You don't even recognize him. "[N-Name]", you gulp, you felt as if the man in front of you was going to eat you whole if you said the wrong thing. "[Name]..? I've heard of you, the top 2, right?", he asks in an almost curious but borderline mocking tone. You remain seated on the floor, books scattered everywhere. "Are you not going to explain yourself?", he raises an eyebrow, walking towards you. Taking this as a sign to get the fuck out of there, you quickly grab the books and try to run off, only to have your shirt grabbed by the tall guy.
"Running off are we?", he looks at you with a questiong expression, why would you avoid him, he wont eat you, will he? With the clock ticking, both of you know that soon, this hall will be packed with students, fortunate for you, unfortunate for him. He doesn't want you to go before he can pry some information out of you.
Thinking of a plan, he quickly drags you to the room, shutting the door behind him so you won't be able to run out without him stopping you mid-way. With his hands crossed, he asks you once more, "Why were you eavesdropping?", his tone even more demanding. "I was on my way to the professor's office, I just overheard some things. Can I go now?", you give a quick explanation, wanting to get out of this situation as quick as possible. Though, he wouldn't allow it. "How much did you hear?", "not much, please let me go now," you walk towards the door, turning the door handle only to see it's locked. It shouldn't be. The door can only be locked from the inside, and by the looks of things, River didn't have time to lock the door.
[System: Love Quest]
In order to proceed, please engange in intercourse.
And just as the system suddenly appeared in their face, a percentage bar appeared in the corner of the room and it stood tall, at 0%. With one look, the both of you knew what it wanted. "What the fuck!?", you yell, looking at the window and then at the protagonist who clearly isn't phased. He only sighs, rolling his eyes, as if he was annoyed by this notification. "This shit again", he whispers, loud enough for you to overhear on accident. He's gone through this before..? is what you were thinking. You've almost never gotten a window from the system, let alone one with any sexual themes. If River wasn't shocked, that means it's probably a common occurrence for him.
The two of you stare at one another for an uncomfortable period of time. As if time stopped for a moment. "This is getting real annoying", he says, sighing and stepping towards you. You back away until your back is pressed on the door making you unable to escape as he grabs your chin, lifting it up and looking at you. "You'll make do", he says before pressing his lips onto yours. Out of shock, you try to push him off, wanting to yell at him. How could he, a protagonist, be kissing someone like you? You're what others would perceive as not worthy of being in his presence let alone be kissing him. Yet here you are, getting your mouth explored by the man himself. Your eyes were opened from shock but you closed it after a few seconds, wanting to savour this moment. His hand made its way to your cheek. He was very gentle with both his hand and lips, making you lean into his touch. Before long, you felt as if you were running out of breath, how long can he even kiss you for!? Fortunately for you, he let go of the kiss, panting and trying to catch his breath after that incredible make out session. "We're not done yet", he says, pointing out the elephant in the room which is the percentage bar which still stands tall at 0%, no progress has been made, making the room inaccessible from the outside. The doors being magically locked also kept anyone from getting out before the goal was met. You knew you had no other choice but to do this in order to get out, as much as you were annoyed by the guy as a student, you couldn't deny his charm, the way his eyes looked into yours, the way his grazed his thumb over your lips. Who wouldn't fall head over heels for him? Anyone would die to be you at this very moment.
Without any hesitation, you managed to gather the courage to pull him into another kiss, you could feel him smiling into the kiss as he reciprocated. Moving his hands to your hips, trailling down to your clothed butt. Gropping and fondling it before he eventually unzips your pants, letting them slide down to your ankles. Leaving your bottoms almost bare if not for your briefs covering your private part. "Ahm...agh", the both of you moaned into the intense kiss before letting go. "You're a good kisser", you comment, gasping for air once more. He smirks, "of course, I'm not the protagonist for nothing", he chuckles a bit. You felt hands slipping into your briefs, making its way to your ass, gripping it even more now. He really seems to be enjoying gropping you. You felt his fingers move closer and closer to your hole before he inserts a finger into you, causing you to grip his arms in shock. "A-agh..!", you let out a surprised moan, his finger wiggling around, trying to get your hole to relax a bit, "you're so tense, [Name], loosen up a little", his inserted another finger, making you unable to keep your composure no matter how much you try to.
You feel his fingers thrusting into you, as if trying to get you to cum from his fingers alone. His long and slender fingers were quite deep in you. It wasn't long before he added another finger. And now that three fingers are going in and out of your hole, you feel as if you're aboit to reach your climax. You close your eyes, moaning loudly. He took notice to this and immediately stopped his fingers as if knowing you were about to cum. You're now puzzled by his actions, why did he stop? "I don't want you cumming from just my fingers, that wouldn't be fun now would it?", you then hear the sound of pants unzipping, realizing it was from him. He pulled his hard cock out of his briefs. You stared at it for a while before he snapped you back to reality, "eyes up here, angel", he teased, giving you a pet name while he was at it. "What? Have you never seen a cock this big?", you definitely haven't. It wasn't just long, just looking at the girth of it made you shiver a bit, how will that even fit. It was befitting of a protagonist, he's perfect in every way, even in his physical attributes. "Enough staring, angel", he says as he suddenly picks your legs up. You instinctively put your arms around him tightly so you don't end up falling, "hey!", you yell, this wasn't a pleasant surprise, you could've fallen, "relax, you're quite light", he is very strong afterall, he's joined almost every single sport available at this point.
You decide to put your trust in him, he's able to hold you up for over a minute now, there's no way he'll suddenly drop you, that'd ruin the moment on top of you getting hurt. After the shock wore off, you notice something poking at your hole, "hm..?", you let out a hum of confusion, turning your head down only to see his cock at your entrance, wanting to be inside you. "Are you ready to be filled up like you've never had before?", the now cocky-like protagonist asks with a slight chuckle at the end. You nod and immediately feel his cock thrust up inside of you, almost halfway in already. He grunts at how tight you are despite him having prepared your sweet little hole for his cock beforehand. Trying his best to get his cock all the way into your hole as you moan out in pain and pleasure, "relax why don't you?", he gives a teasing smile. Leaning in for a kiss, he manages to get you to relax and without another word, thrusts the rest of his cock into you, shocking you once more. You accidentally bite his lip in the process, drawing a bit of blood. "Agh!", he pulls back, tapping his finger on his lip and seeing that blood is coming out of the wound. He focuses on you once more, as if signifying he's about to move. You give a slight nod and he starts to thrust in and out of you, slowly and sensually at first. "You're really warm inside", he comments while thrusting into you, looking into your eyes as you manage to keep them open.
After a while of the sensual and slow fucking, he gets tired of it, wanting to thrust into you quicker. And so, he does as he wants. Thrusting into you quicker this time, rougher. You close your eyes and tighten the grip on his upper back, scratching his skin through his shirt. Your moans are no longer considered quiet, you're full on moaning your head out. That was before you realized the bell had rung, students were on their way to class and they'd pass by this specific room. You bite your lip in order to muffle out the moans, keeping it somewhat quiet in order to not get caught. River on the other hand, didn't like this one bit. He wants to hear your delicious and sweet moans, you should let them out for him to hear. "Stop biting your lip, angel, let me hear you", something in his voice made you want to obey his words, and for some reason, you find yourself no longer biting your lip, now you're just letting it all out, moaning and crying out for him.
The faster he went, the more you felt like you were about to reach your climax. He also seemed to be close. The both of you sweating, moaning, grunting. "I'm, agh, gonna cum...!", he says as he shoots his load all in you, coating your inner walls with his seed, some even dripping out. At that moment, you also came, releasing your juice all over your stomach. With the two of you now panting and gasping for air, River carries you to a nearby table, letting the two of you rest for a while. Just then, the door swings wide open, "Who the fuck was making all that noise!?", a teacher yells into the room, seemingly staring straight at them. The teacher looks around in confusion, "huh...I was so sure there was someone here...", He then turns his heels and walks back out, closing the doors on his way. You who were covering your face due to this, looked in the direction the teacher was in confusion, "did..he not see us..?", you ask River, to which he replies, "the system did that, probably", as if the system heard the man, it dings and the both of you turn your heads towards the bar of percentage now sitting at a solid 30%, "huh? 30%?", you say out loud in even more confusion, "it wants us to have sex and get it up to 100%", River says without missing a beat, "ready for round two?"
———
"Agh..! To..oo big, ahghh...", you try to say in-between moans, overstimulated by his cock and the way he bites your nipples. "You're taking me so well", at least he's enjoying it, a lot. You even wonder if he has an infinite stamina, but of course your thoughts were drowned by the time he came in you for the third time. How many rounds has it even been? The bar has been stuck at 99% for so long, when will this end..You're so overstimulated at this point, River's cock has been relentlessly fucking you dumb. You can't even think anymore, nor can you let out any coherent words. It's been at least a couple of hours since the both of you started this, why hasn't it ended. Your cheeks are wet, wet from the tears which had been and are still rolling down your face. He loves witnessing your debauchery. Your clothes have been discarded to the side by now, you don't know where but they're on the floor somewhere. His thrusts get faster and faster, you didn't even know he could go this fast but here he is, fucking you with inhuman speed. "C'mon..ah..come with me, my angel...agh", he moans and grunts while saying this. Then his thrusts stop and you feel even more liquid filling your already over-filled hole, making it impossible to be kept inside and most of it dripping out your hole and onto the floor which has a pool of both yours and his cum. At that very moment, you feel your whole body give out as your vision blurs until you eventually black out.
———
What happened in the room stayed in the room. Your life went on as usual, the normal schedule. Though, one thing has definitely changed. That is the fact that you are now dating the protagonist despite still having the role of a 'background character' . Everyone was shocked but learned to accept it. Who are they to defy the protagonist's wishes? One person in particular wasn't happy about this. None other than his ex, Aria. Everyone saw that coming from a mile away, though, so nobody paid her any mind. After that, River took any and every class you took. Science? You'd see him sit there with an empty seat next to him, looking up at you and asking with a big smile, "come! Sit here, angel!", while patting the seat next to him to signal for you to sit. PE? He'd always get you into his team no matter what. No matter how bad the other team wanted you on theirs, they'd never have you as you now belong to River. Being in the same class as you had its advantages. That is, being able to fuck you in class without anyone noticing. To be frank, the both of you found it out on accident. It was during class when the both of you got a new love quest. You thought of leaving the class to finish but the system didn't let you. It wanted the both of you to do it at that very moment. When he took the initiative and pulled your shirt up to bite your nipples, not a single student nor the teacher had any reaction, it was as if the both of you were protected by an invisible bubble that allowed the quest to take place. That, combined with the fact the teacher couldn't see the both of you the first time, confirmed your suspicions that they were indeed unable to see you.
From that day forward, the two of you almost always got a love quest every single day of school. The session would last at least 2 hours, leaving both of you a hot sweaty mess once it was over and done with. You'd always be embarrassed and extra tight during these. The way you felt eyes on you, it was as if they could see you, but in reality, they really can't. You'd tighten up at the thought of them watching you, making River grunt even more due to your tightness. He'd smirk and ram even harder into you once this happens. "Naughty boy, you get off to the thought of people watching, huh?", he'd always tease you. These love quests would be random, though. Despite it happening every day, the two of you could never predict when it'd occur. It could be very early in the morning, in class, or even during an activity. It was always random, so why would you always see River getting hard even before the love quest appear...? It's probably nothing. You're just paranoid.
☆☆☆☆☆
Apologies for the wait. My schedule's been real hectic lately. This is not proofread, so please excuse the probably many mistakes/typos!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you have any questions/reqs, please do send them my way!<3
#male reader#oc x reader#lgbtq#gay#x male reader#oc x male reader#oc#top male character#bottom male reader#oc smut#「 by the hands of xin 」#Xin's River Sterling ☆
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choso makes you take every inch, even if you think you can not. this is not in a way of being weird and him forcing you to, but instead, encouragement.
every time he started to slide himself inside of you, you start to tense up and wince because you still think he’s too big for you, but by the end of the night he’s proving you wrong, and continues to prove you wrong every time.
it’s just too big to handle, and your mind makes you think that you can’t take it, but he convinces you otherwise.
holding your wrist up with one hand as he stimulates your clit with the other. making sure that you are soaking when he pushes his dick slowly inside of you.
your eyes closing as you feel his tip pushing into your entrance, and he’ll lean down and whisper into your ear to open your eyes and calm down.
with that, he’ll make sure that you take it and that you feel good. he is going to make sure that you take his dick and every inch. there is no inch of dick that is not covered with your fluids.
he gets so relieved when he hears your moans and sees your body move without his help on your own.
choso can not hold up on not letting you cum on his dick. he loves that pussy of yours, like your pussy is so good that after he cums he is passed out on top of you.
once he’s deep inside you and already making
a mess of your wet cunt, he’s whispering in your ear, telling you how much of a good girl you are, how well you’re taking him, and how good you feel.
“fuck, you feel good; ride me," and he’ll turn in his back and let you go to work. at that point, your mind is fuzzy, and your fingers is interloped with his as you bounce up and down on his length as you blabber about how good his tip feels.
choso’s dick felt too fucking good, pressing against your sweet spot as you went faster, choso staring in your eyes as you did it, only making it harder.
“baby wait… i’m gonna cum.” and that he does, but you don’t stop. once he got you out of your comfort zone, and you were feeling pleasure spread throughout your body, you never wanted to stop.
once he sees the state that you’re in and the fact that you don’t want to stop, he’s going to make sure that you don’t. even if your knees are getting weak and wobbly, your head hurting, your pussy squirting back to back, he’s not letting you get off his dick.
“i thought you wanted this. don’t stop.” while still looking at you. the way his dark eyes look up at you just makes your stomach swarm with butterflies and your pussy clench.
choso is the man that you need. he is going to encourage you to take that dick no matter what, with praise or whatever you need.
because one thing about him… he’s going to feel that pussy gush.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#x reader#jujutsu choso#choso#choso x you#choso smut#choso x y/n#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso
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AFTER MISSION HOURS
a/n: mb guys, i cant escape the soft dom allegations i just love it too much. but gojo is a little rougher in this. wrote this as a result of the latest jjk ep and uuuhhhhhmmmm imma need him to be angry more CAAUUUUSEEEEE .....
warnings: sorta rough dom!gojo, fem!reader, face-fucking, deep-throating, oral (m receiving), multiple rounds, unprotected sex, spitting on your pussy, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, creampie / breeding kink, aftercare and cute gojo at the end, n*sfw under the cut
“s— satoru?” you’re taken aback when he stalks through the door, almost making a dent in the wall from how hard he slams it open and the darkness of the front door light does his eyes justice in showing just how bright they are. albeit a little less blue and swirling with something darker and you’re taken aback when he finally walks up to you and seizes your wrist.
“’toru— you should go see shoko—!” you’re surprised when he whirls you around and nods his head towards the big sofa wordlessly and while you’re not a stranger to gojo’s outbursts when you’re arguing about how he needs to value his life more or when he’s uptight from a stressful meeting with the higher-ups, but never like this. frankly, you’ve never even had to courage to tell him all the times he’s stared at you with hooded eyes and a frown etched onto his face, you had to hold yourself back from jumping him.
but now he’s taking matters into his own hands.
you yelp in shock as he pushes you onto your hands and knees and you look back at how he kneels in front of your slowly soaking underwear. gojo plants his hands on your ass and kneads, bringing his nose right up to your pussy lips and licks a stripe over the fabric.
“so wet jus’ from that? fuckin’ slut,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear and you’re ashamed to admit that you like it a little too much when you let out a small whine unknowingly. “oh? like it when i call you a little slut?”
he makes sure to spit out the last part and his anger and stress lowers a little just seeing how you wiggle your butt closer to him and a smile spreads on your face. there’s a little twinkle in your eye when you see the way your boyfriend’s hands make their way down to his pants but he stops short, larger hands wrapping around your waist to flip you over. thank god the couch was big, and he inches his way up your body.
“c’mon. take my cock out,” he’s staring at you from above, a sight you weren’t used to, rather more accustomed to having him below you but this new change sends chills right down to your core. you tug at his pants impatiently and satoru watches with a close eye how you scramble to pull down his underwear and the way your lips part slightly. gojo hums softly when you start stroking it to full hardness and the awe on your face is just so adorable.
“suck.” you didn’t need to be told twice, bringing his angry weeping tip right to your mouth to suckle the pre-cum out of it and your eyes flick up just as he smirks. your mouth’s so full of him, moaning around his length as you bob your head in the uncomfortable position. “all ya good for, huh? made just f’r suckin’ me off.”
this gojo was miles off from your loving boyfriend but you loved it all the same, nodding and hollowing your cheeks and using your hands for the places you can’t reach. your mouth and hands were no comparison to your tight cunt but they’re second best, so warm and pliant. you stare up at him before coming off and drool drips down the side of your mouth.
“fuck my mouth, satoru,” your pleading eyes are too much for him, both hands still stroking him non-stop as you mix in your saliva with his pre-cum, lewd noises filling the hall. “please?”
gojo simply laughs, a laugh that definitely says i should do this more, “sure, baby.”
and while his stress is immediately gone from seeing you beg, he’s not any more gentle as he lines his cock along your lips and holds onto the arm rests of the couch and fucks your face. the first thrust into your mouth, he moans out loud before his hips move quicker and quicker and you have hardly any time to adjust. your fingers squeeze his thighs with each ram into you, tip kissing the back of your throat you swear you can feel him in your stomach. you’ve learned to hold your breath even when your nose meets with his untrimmed pubes, eyes never breaking contact as he slams into you.
“mouth s’good— s-shit . .” gojo chuckles breathlessly when he hears you gurgle on his fat cock, feeling your tongue massage the base of his dick. the obscene gawking noises only gets louder when he pushes himself right to the limit, obsessed with how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can make little noises around him. he gives a little quick glance to see your playing with yourself and he swears under his breath, pulling his hips back and letting you breathe. “filthy girl. jus’ need me so bad.”
“y—yeah satoru. wanna take your mind off . . work,” you mumble, eyes focused on how his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum from his tip and you just wanna make him feel so good — you’re not even that big on the whole housewife thing, but the way gojo treats you? you’d be on your knees all day if you could, taking his warm cum down your throat.
“yeah? cute lil thing you are.” he taunts, bending his body so he could be inches from your face even as you continue pumping him and he’s trying not to lose composure. his eyes bore holes into your face from how hard he stares at you, breath shaky as your hands move under his jujutsu uniform and all over his upper body.
“use me.” it comes so abruptly even you are surprised, knowing how you liked to be more passive in your sex life and still, this is your first step out of your meekness. “take it all out on me, satoru.”
gojo’s chest heaves and he silently pulls away to face your cunt, removing your panties and he really wants to give you everything slowly like he likes it. he wants to see you cry as he rocks into you with gradual grinds but when you tell him something as dirty as that — he’s doing anything but that.
“haah . .” satoru sighs at your clenching pussy, dragging his tip up and down, up and down your folds and just seeing your juices just flow and flow and he’s hypnotised, “careful what you wish for, darling girl.”
you barely have time to register his warning before he slams into you and you’re screaming. it’s easy from how wet you are and it takes a small while as you adjust to his thrusts and gojo uses your body like a ragdoll. he hovers over you as your legs are limp and unsure of where they should go. this little dilemma isn’t lost on satoru, grabbing your ankles and holding them as his hips move relentlessly and this has your hips lifting off the sofa; he easily reaches your g-spot like this.
“satoru— fucking g-god! satoruuu . . !” you moan at the roughness of his ministrations, thinking you were free from the assault when he lets your ankles rest on his shoulders but all he does is spit on your pussy. a perfect shot and he rubs it in with his thumb and it has you whining out loud at the sudden stimulation, “t-too much!”
“you can take it.” gojo simply mumbles, thumb drawing timed circles on your clit as he watches his cock disappear into you. “can do it when you’re clenchin’ around me this hard.”
gojo grins, sickly.
“ah! my pretty little slut did it again.” the names were an exact opposite from the softer praise you were used to, and still they have you biting your lips and giggling in between moans, letting him fuck you like the cocksleeve you are.
“breed me, ’toru. need it—!”
“that right?” gojo slams into you at the speed of an animal, clearly still high-strung from the mission and notices how you still are making sure he cums first. the thought makes his hips stutter paired with seeing your doe eyes as little pants leave your mouth and he needs to pull away from your clit to hold onto your thighs before he cums and cums and cums. your back arches at the feeling and a soft moan is heard from your lips at how it starts to fill you up.
gojo wastes no time to pull out and see his cum spill out of you before he’s doing a circular motion with his finger and you’re lying on your stomach like a good girl. you melt when you feel him scoop it all up, pushing the escaping cum right back into you and your head sinks into the cushions while your ass only pushes more into him.
“hol’ on, baby, got another load for ya,” this thrust is wet. you can basically hear his cum struggle to stay in you to the point where his cock is coated in a thin layer of white and you can only moan out for him from below. he shuts you up but pressing you deeper into the sofa, a harsh hand on your lower back and your ass sticks out more.
“thaaat’s it . .” gojo smirks, licking his lips as he watches your ass ripple from the contact. each drag of his cock into your warm, cute pussy, his eyes are there, and each spurt of your arousal and his cum as his pelvis meets yours, he’s searing it into his brain, “this what you mean by using you?”
you’re murmuring “yeah”’s into the sofa, knees and arms suffering from fabric burn from how much your body was moving, and yet his throbbing cock is just too good. your mouth falls open when satoru reaches around to rub at your clit again and your hands fly to hold onto his wrists, “oh— right there, ’toru . .!”
it’s all too much for you, the previous load of cum spilling onto the couch below you, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and the sloppiness of your pussy that it’s even having gojo moving aimlessly into you, rather just rutting in you messily.
“g’na cum again— f-fuck,” gojo swears as his fingers on your clit are more frantic to try to match his pace while he props a leg up onto the sofa and you thrash against his hold because his tip brushes against your cervix so good that you’re convulsing in the next second, whining and mewling as you cum all over his cock.
he can feel your cum and the sorcerer moans, switching to short, impatient thrusts into your tight cunt and his grunts merges with calls of your name, eyes scrunched up as he shoots his second orgasm into you. you try to grab at something as there’s the familiar feeling of his tip releasing ribbons of cum deep into your womb, but you come up short, settling rather to dig your nails into fabric.
“take my load like the cock drunk whore you are,” gojo grunts out lowly, grinding his hips into you just to get his last drops of cum into you and he has the audacity to massage at your lower back while your body’s still reeling from the intense high and yes, his anger is quelled a little but each time you’re with gojo satoru there’s always surprise ambushing you from every corner.
you gasp when he pulls you up and pulls you against his chest, moving his hips in an experimental thrust right into you and you’re sagging over his strong arms that hold you up, whining incoherently as you struggle to stay awake.
“alright, alright,” satoru laughs softly, pressing a peck to your cheek, “needa thank my baby for letting me use her.”
you barely manage a smile, turning back to him with a raise of your eyebrow, “can still go . . ’toru . .”
he hums, and pulls you off of him slowly, dick jumping just a little when he hears a choked moan leave you at the feeling of his cum dripping from your cunt but he steels himself, “hm, don’t think so, princess.”
you pout, immediately turning around to hug him close to you and gojo’s heart flutters at your cuteness. he sighs at your adamant stance, easily standing up with you wrapped around him and carrying the two of you to the master bathroom.
“let’s clean up and we’ll see if you’re awake enough to go again, alright?” satoru whispers to you before turning on the shower, and later when he’s stuck in the toilet tidying up his pubes (he saw how uncomfortable you were earlier) and he’s letting you take the bed first, there’s a perplexity and small fear that overcomes the male at the lack of answer when he calls out to you.
but gojo comes out to you slipping in and out of consciousness with only his shirt whilst hugging his pillow and he smiles to himself, getting dressed as quickly as possible and slipping in beside you. a soft smile is still plastered on his face when you naturally curl into his warmth and mumble out a soft i still had stamina, satoru.
“shh, go to sleep, baby,” satoru tugs you closer into him and he wonders if there’s any way to love you even more than he already does, “we have all the time in the world, silly girl.”
shibuya incident? tf is that?? never happened bitch
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk gojo#jjk gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#gojou satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#jjk thirsts#jjk drabbles
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the boy is mine (l.dh) — part one
PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader (also jeno x reader) GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 19k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. welcome back to meeeeeeee!!! i hope you enjoy this fic because i worked very hard on it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy
how can it be you and me? might be meant to be, can’t unsee it but i don’t wanna cause no scene i’m usually so unproblematic, so independent, tell me why ‘cause the boy is mine.
You suppose your fate was sealed from the beginning.
Even as you’re riding in the passenger seat of Yunjin’s car as she speeds down the freeway, your heart filled with a relief and fulfillment you haven’t had for the past six months, you can’t help but feel like something’s… lacking.
“So, spill,” you hear Seulgi pipe up from the backseat. “How many little British boy hearts did you break on your little Oxford trip?”
“Who says I broke any hearts?!” you exclaim with an incredulous laugh, and everyone in the car turns and gives you the same unimpressed look. “Oh, that was creepy. Did y’all plan that?”
“You were gone for six whole months and you want us to believe you got up to no romantic shenanigans? Hm?” Seulgi asks, narrowing her eyes at you, and you narrow yours right back.
“I didn’t break any hearts!” you defend yourself, and Chaewon sighs.
“Did you stow away a cute British boy in your carry-on?” she asks, and you make a face.
“Certainly not.”
“Then there’s a broken heart floating around in Oxford as we speak!” Chaewon insists, and you scowl.
“Let me out right here.” you mutter, turning to open the door on the freeway, laughing as the other inhabitants of the car gasp and shriek in alarm. “I’m joking!”
“You’re crazy, that's what you are.” Yunjin clarifies, and you giggle.
“I was having a laugh.” you say unapologetically. “Anyway, I didn’t really get up to too much in Oxford, really. I was focused on studying, I guess.”
“Oh, lame!” Seulgi boos, and you roll your eyes.
“I’m here now, though, so the hot girl spring and summer can commence!” you say happily, and your friends cheer.
“Winter just texted asking if we got you off the plane okay,” Chaewon announces, and you shake your head.
“Tell her my seatbelt got stuck and wouldn’t let me out and so they took me back to England.” you suggest, and Yunjin snickers.
“Tell her the pilot got confused and took her to the wrong New York. If she asks what other New York, just be like, ‘the other one?’” she adds on, and Chaewon snorts.
“You’re both terrible.” she laughs as she types in a response.
“What’d you tell her?” Seulgi asks.
“That she got held back for getting her bag searched and they found five kilos of cocaine. So they took her out back and made her snort all of it as punishment and now she’s running amok in the city like Cocaine Bear. She’ll beat us back to the house.”
“And we’re terrible?!” you exclaim indignantly.
“Well, yes.” Chaewon replies calmly. “Mine is obviously a lie.”
“Wh— My seatbelt getting stuck isn’t an obvious lie?” you splutter.
“Well, that could actually happen!” she defends, and you blink at her incredulously.
“I didn’t expect the lesbian to forget that scissors exist.”
Chaewon’s jaw drops and she jabs a finger in your direction. “Homophobe!” She turns to Seulgi for support, but Seulgi just shakes her head.
“You’re alone in this one, Chae,” Seulgi giggles. “I laughed, I’m sorry.”
“Man, this is some bullshit.” Chaewon grumbles. “You’re supposed to have my back! We’re… we’re sapphic sistren!”
“You actually did not just say that.” Seulgi marvels. “Sapphic sistren is crazy.”
“I had to pull the gay card to win.” Chaewon says with a shrug. “I’m not sorry.”
“Can we get back on topic, please?” Yunjin laughs incredulously. “Jesus, it’s like if you put squirrels on a podcast.”
“We should make a podcast, actually.” Seulgi suggests, and you nod.
“We could call it ‘That’s Nuts,’” you say excitedly.
Chaewon snorts. “I’m in.”
Yunjin beeps her horn loudly, garnering all of your attention as you all jump in surprise. “We’re outside all spring and summer, right?”
“Well, after work, yeah.” you agree, and she smiles, nodding.
“I don’t want to hear you missed out on a fun fling or opportunity because you were busy working.” Yunjin jabs her finger at you accusingly, and your hands fly up defensively.
“In my defense, doing my job is way less risky than taking chances romantically.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Yunjin complains. “Live, girl!”
“There are gonna be cute guys at the party, obviously. So I will live!” you insist, and Yunjin nods.
“That’s more like it.”
Returning to your thoughts for a moment, it dawns on you that romantic excitement is exactly what you’re lacking. You want to love; you want to love someone and be loved by that someone and for that love to be something beautiful and consuming, and you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to have to wait.
You’re in the middle of making a mental pact with yourself to be just a bit more daring, a tad more forward and bold when it comes to love, when Seulgi and Chaewon laugh loudly at something on one of their phones, snapping you out of your internal monologue, and you shift in your seat, turning to face them.
“I can’t believe you guys left your whole apartment unattended during a house party just to welcome me home,” you sniff dramatically, and Seulgi snorts.
“Anything for you, my friend.” she replies with a playful crinkle of her nose, and you reach out to pinch it lightly.
“Besides, it’s not like it’s completely unattended! Winter’s there.” Chaewon points out, and you raise your eyebrows skeptically.
“Right… what is her non-confrontational ass gonna do if something goes wrong?” you ask, and Seulgi winces.
“Good point. Maybe step on it, Yunjin.”
“I’m already going twenty over the speed limit!” she exclaims defensively.
“You’re not even exaggerating,” Chaewon half-gasps, half-laughs as she leans forward to look at the speedometer. “We might make it there quicker, but we might not make it there safely.”
“We are here for a good time!” Yunjin yells, whipping her hair around excitedly. “Not a long time!”
“Deeply concerning words coming from our driver.” Seulgi snickers quietly, and you nod, turning back to sit in your seat properly. “So…”
You peer at her through the rearview mirror curiously. “So?”
“I’m just imagining Jeno’s reaction when he sees you again for the first time.” She shrugs with a faint teasing smile, and you can feel your cheeks warming as a small smile starts to tug at your lips.
Jeno’s had a thing for you for the past… year and a half—at least, that you’re aware of—and you won’t lie, he’s definitely easy on the eyes and a sweetheart to top it all off. Before you went away to Oxford, you two had built up a bit of a flirtationship that neither of you tried to push further because of your study abroad trip you had planned.
Now, however, you’re back, and you’re admittedly excited to see if it leads to something worthwhile.
“He’ll probably do that little crescent-eyed smile he always does when you spare him a crumb of attention.” Chaewon supplies as you’re lost in thought, and you roll your eyes as Yunjin nods knowingly.
“I’m willing to bet he’s gonna try to be glued to your side all night.” she adds, and you sigh loudly and dramatically.
“You guys are really something else, you know that?”
“You love it!” Chaewon says confidently, and you can’t help but smile fondly, nodding in agreement.
“I kinda do.”
Yunjin spares you a sideways glance that lingers for suspiciously long on your frame, and you raise an eyebrow.
“My eyes are up here.” you joke, waving a hand in her line of sight, “and, more importantly, the road is over there.” She chuckles and relents, refocusing her attention on the road, but she has that telltale look on her face that usually means she has something on her mind. “What are you thinking about?”
“Well—not that I’m judging at all, because, you know… live your life, girl.” Yunjin pipes up, and you turn to look at her, curiously awaiting the rest of her thought. “But are you gonna wear that to the party?”
You look down at your comfortable sweats and hoodie, perfect airport attire, and look back up at Yunjin with a playful frown. “What, is this not cute enough?”
“Well…” she trails off, and Seulgi pops her head forward between the front two car seats.
“No! It’s not a good enough outfit! You’re the guest of honor at your own welcome home party, and you have to come harder than some cozy gray sweats with a hole by the ankle.” Seulgi scolds, and you roll your eyes with an amused smile.
“Obviously I’m not going to wear this to the party, girl.” you laugh, and Seulgi sighs in relief. “I was just messing with you.”
“Well, cut it out! You know I’m gullible.” She frowns, and you reach into the backseat to pat her hand comfortingly.
“All the more reason to mess with you, my love.” you reply with a deceptively innocent smile. “Anyway, when we get back home, I have to shower and freshen up and change into my actual outfit. I also have to sort out the presents I brought back for everyone and make sure Jeno’s cake is still in good shape.”
“I still can’t believe you baked him a cake,” Chaewon marvels. “It’s giving domestic. Housewife, even.”
“Martha Stewart found jobless,” Seulgi adds, and you snort.
“I know this is his favorite type of cake, so I just… thought I’d make it for him.” you mumble quietly with a small, dismissive shrug.
“That is very cute to me,” Yunjin says reassuringly before punching the horn roughly and making the rest of the three of you jump in surprise. “Stupid fucker doesn’t know how to use his turn signal?!”
“Yunjin, calm down,” you advise, patting her knee gently.
“I am calm,” she replies, her tone level, and you pull your hand back, still eying her suspiciously. Sure enough, as she drives by the driver that failed to use his turn signal, she rolls her window down and yells out a string of expletives that makes Chaewon gasp in horror.
As Yunjin rolls her window back up and turns the radio up, you sit back and smile, thinking about how happy you are to be back at home.
You get home an entire eight minutes before your initial ETA, making Yunjin grin proudly when you make the announcement.
After your friends help you bring your luggage up to your apartment, you go into the bathroom to freshen up. After the extensive process that was showering, brushing your teeth, reapplying your skincare and makeup, and applying lotion and getting dressed, you emerge, fresh-faced and victorious, into your living room where your friends lie sprawled on your couch as they wait for you. The only eyesore about your appearance is the large sack you’re carrying of presents you brought back for your friends.
“I’m ready!” you chirp happily, and Yunjin is the first to look up from her phone at you, eyes taking in your casual and comfortable yet cute attire before she nods appreciatively.
“It’s giving Santa Claus,” Seulgi chuckles, gesturing at your large bag slung over your shoulder.
“Ho, ho, ho,” you drawl with an amused roll of your eyes.
“Stop it, Seulgi,” Chaewon scolds before focusing her gaze on you. “You look cute! Bet you-know-who’s gonna be all over you.” she says with a teasing grin, and you roll your eyes despite smiling before you set the bag down and set about getting out your gifts for your friends that are present.
You hand Yunjin a wrapped box of gorgeous shoes from an England-exclusive boutique and she sets about unwrapping it, her eyes widening with excitement as she reveals the present inside.
“Holy shit?” she gasps, gaping at the shoes. “These are perfect!”
“They’re so you,” you agree with a proud nod. “I saw them one day through a window while I was walking down the street and had to stop in and get them for you.”
“My turn, my turn!” Chaewon exclaims eagerly, bouncing in place as you root through your large sack and pull out a small wrapped box, which you hand to Chaewon carefully. She squeals in excitement once she’s opened the present, leaping up and engulfing you in a tight hug. “My perfume! I thought they discontinued it!”
“They stopped selling it in the States, but I managed to track down a store that still had some in stock, so I got you a couple—y’know, so you wouldn’t run out.” you say, smiling, and she beams at you.
“You’re the best.” she says seriously, looking you directly in the eyes to drive home her sincerity.
“I try,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug before reaching into the bag once more and pulling out one last present for Seulgi, wiggling the box at her invitingly.
“For moi?” she asks with feigned surprise, a hand to her chest.
“Indeed,” you confirm with a grin, and she sits forward, taking the gift from your hand and opening it up.
“Oh, my God.” she exhales in shock, staring down at the designer earrings and bracelet set. “These look expensive as fuck.”
“They kinda were,” you admit sheepishly. “All of your gifts were a pretty penny, actually, but you guys definitely deserve them. Those really spoke to me, and I thought they’d look gorgeous on you.”
“Thank you, my love,” Seulgi coos affectionately, standing up to engulf you in a hug. Yunjin and Chaewon join in a brief moment after, the four of you hugging tightly for a lingering, blissful moment.
“You’re all very welcome. Are we ready to go now?” you say, changing the subject with ease even as your voice is muffled into Seulgi’s shoulder, and Seulgi pulls back immediately with an emphatic nod.
“Ready as ever! Our fridge has snacks that are calling to me from over here.”
“You’re such a drama queen.” you scoff in amusement as you all head to your front door and file out after each other.
“Must have gotten it from hanging out around you.” she replies with playfully narrowed eyes in your direction.
“Oh, really?” you challenge, biting back a laugh, and she nods, puffing out her chest comically as she chest-bumps you on purpose. “Assaulting me in the middle of my apartment complex is actually wild and unheard of, and you will be hearing from my attorney.”
“Bring it on, baby!” she urges, and Yunjin rolls her eyes in poorly concealed amusement as you two start to giggle at your antics, the sounds of mirth ringing out in the lobby as you exit the elevator.
“You two are so strange,” she remarks in wonder. “But later for that. Onto more pressing matters!”
“Such as?” you question, holding the door open for Chaewon to follow behind you into the street.
“How long will it take us to get from our house to yours?” Yunjin asks, pulling out her phone to search for it, but Chaewon seems to be one step ahead, already focused on her phone screen.
“The travel time from here to our house,” she announces loudly, squinting at her phone momentarily, “is roughly twenty minutes.” You all stand around Yunjin’s car at your respective doors, waiting for Yunjin to unlock the car so you can get in.
“Hm, yeah? Why so long?” Yunjin asks curiously as she moves to look over Chaewon’s shoulder. “Traffic, huh? …I bet I can shave that time down to fifteen minutes.” Her eyes glint with excitement as she presses her car door remote, the sudden and loud beep-beep of the doors unlocking making you and Seulgi flinch for a moment.
“Dear Lord, help us all,” Seulgi mumbles as you all climb into Yunjin’s car, strapping in before she peels out of her parking space and zooms into the night.
True to her word, Yunjin precariously shaves six minutes off your travel time and you pull up to Chaewon’s and Seulgi’s apartment earlier than anticipated, exhilarated and pumped full of adrenaline.
“Are you excited to be back at La Casa Payasa?” Seulgi asks with a smile, and you nod with a relieved sigh.
“It’s just like I remember it.” you hum fondly as you head up to their door and bring your fist to the door, only getting to knock once before the door swings open and Mark throws himself at you for a hug.
You catch him with a surprised laugh, stumbling back from the impact slightly but returning the tight hug nonetheless. He tucks his face into your neck and mumbles something that you can’t hear, prompting you to pull back slightly.
“I didn’t hear a word you said,” you chuckle, and he pulls back as well so you can see his bright smile.
“I missed you so much,” he repeats, and you coo fondly, pulling him back into the hug.
“I missed you, too!” you chirp warmly, squeezing him in the hug for good measure. When you two pull apart, Chenle’s standing beside Mark and grinning at you. “Hey, Chenle!”
“Hey, stranger,” he teases, pulling you into a hug of his own. “Long time, huh? Let’s hear that British accent you developed over there.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you reply in your best British impression, and he bursts out laughing.
“Man, that’s good stuff,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “We missed you over here!” he complains, moving to swat you on the arm. “Don’t leave again.”
“I’ll do my best to stick around.” you assure him, and he smiles and nods, content.
“Now what’s with this big ass bag you’re carrying, huh? Did you stow away some British goodies for us?” Chenle asks curiously, pinching the fabric of the sack over your shoulder.
“Something like that,” you say slowly before you set it down and reach inside, handing Chenle and Mark their respective gifts. As they open them, Mark being considerably more careful than Chenle, you wait, hands clasped behind your back and rocking back and forth on your heels.
“How the hell did you get a signed Steph Curry jersey?” Chenle questions, baffled and thrilled, and you shrug with a secretive smile.
“I have my ways.”
“Never mind that—how did you get Frank Ocean himself to sign this album?” Mark asks, downright bewildered, and you shrug again.
“Ways that I have… that are mine.”
“You’re so silly, but this is amazing,” Chenle laughs, hugging you. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome,” you lilt sweetly, and Mark looks up from the Frank Ocean vinyl again to meet your inquisitive gaze with wide, awestruck eyes.
“You’re incredible. Genuinely.” he stammers, and you smile widely as he pulls you into a hug as well once Chenle’s released you.
“I do my best,” you reply happily.
“Wait, also, how was your flight? Anything crazy happen?” Chenle asks curiously, and you pause as you think back.
“Actually, yeah; these two guys got into a verbal argument and then one of ‘em was like, ‘I’ll beat everyone’s ass right now!’ Which, objectively, is a crazy thing to say, but crazier to insist when you’re in a metal contraption thousands of feet in the air.” you start explaining, and Chenle’s eyes widen.
“No way,” he mumbles. “Then what?”
“Then he started threatening the flight crew, and I’m pretty sure he got placed on the no-fly list.” you finish with a solemn nod, and Mark gasps.
“I could never imagine never being able to fly again.” he mutters in awe, and you nod in agreement.
“I know, right? He had it coming, though.” you say, and they shrug, nodding in agreement.
“I guess so,” Mark agrees before his face lights up as he seems to remember something. “Hey, where’s Jeno? He’s been waiting for you to show up.”
“I think he’s with Winter and Haechan right now,” Chenle answers, and you scrunch your face up in confusion.
“Who’s Haechan?” you ask, baffled, before it dawns on you. “Oh, wait, that’s Winter’s new boyfriend?” you ask, and they nod. “I see… well, can’t wait to meet him, I guess.” You shrug indifferently, now craning your head to look around for Jeno.
You spot him before he spots you, the male standing alone texting on his phone by the couch. As if he can sense you looking, he looks up and his eyes lock on yours a moment later, his entire face brightening up as he starts to make his way over to where you’re standing.
By the time he’s where you are, you’re both sporting excited yet shy smiles as he opens his arms for a hug and you step into it. His arms drop to your waist and you wrap yours around his middle as he squeezes you gently.
“Hey,” he mumbles into the embrace, a smile audible in his voice.
“Hey, there.” you greet.
“Welcome back.”
“Good to be back,” you reply with a little grin.
“Did you have a good flight?” he asks curiously, and you nod.
“Minus a crazy guy on the plane, but it all ended fine,” you assure him, and he looks momentarily bewildered but manages to rein in his reaction.
“That’s good, I think… what seat did you get?” he questions, leaving you somewhat touched by his thoughtful questions.
“I got a window seat,” you answer with a smile, and he nods in approval.
“I love a good window seat,” he hums. “Did you watch a movie or nap or something?”
“I napped for a bit, yeah,” you chuckle, suddenly remembering how you’d had a bit of drool dried on your cheek earlier. Subconsciously wiping at the spot, you smile up at him casually. “I’m still a little tired, though.”
He frowns sympathetically before a little hopeful smile appears on his face. “Well, I hope you’re not too tired, because I wanted to give you something.”
Your eyes widen. “You got me something?”
He nods shyly. “I got you something. It’s in my car, though, and I parked kinda far, so I have to go get it. Come find me later when I come back so I can give it to you.”
“You got it,” you say with a smile. “I’ll come find you for sure. I actually have something for you, too, so we can trade.”
“Oh, no way! You’re the best.” He beams, squeezing your waist, at which point you realize you two never let go from the hug. Your cheeks on fire, you withdraw your arms from his middle and he does the same to you with an amused chuckle.
“I’m actually gonna go grab something from the kitchen,” you say, jerking a thumb in the direction of the hallway. “You want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, actually.” he answers, and you nod before you two go your separate ways. You turn back at the sound of your name to see Jeno looking at you with a soft gaze and an even softer smile that makes you feel like you’re a giggly school girl all over again.
“It’s really good to have you back. It really wasn’t the same without you. Seeing all your Instagram stories gave me a crazy sense of FOMO, and our little phone calls here and there really made me miss you even more,” he says sincerely, and you place a hand over your heart, touched.
“I’m really happy to be back,” you assure him. “I missed you.” His brows flick upwards in surprise at your somewhat bold admission, and you blink twice in mild alarm before continuing in a slight rush with, “I—well, like, I missed you, and Yunjin, and Chae—I missed you all, y’know? The story posts were so you wouldn’t forget about little ol’ me. I loved our phone calls, but it’s so much better getting to talk to you in person.”
He laughs lightheartedly and nods, waving you off reassuringly. “I get you. Go get yourself some snacks! We didn’t stock up on your favorites for some random people to eat it all up before you get any.”
“Copy that,” you say with an emphatic nod, saluting him jokingly before heading to the kitchen.
As you’re making your way to the snacks, you catch the eye of a very handsome stranger leaning against the wall in your hallway talking to one of your friends from work. To your surprise, he doesn’t look away from you as you approach, even going so far as to turn his head as you walk by to keep staring at you.
You’re not sure if you’re more intrigued by him than by the challenge he’s posed, but you keep eye contact until you get to your kitchen and round the corner to find yourself a snack.
Moments after you’ve entered the room, you feel someone enter behind you, a smile coming to your lips as you realize who it most likely is.
When you turn to face the newcomer, he’s standing surprisingly close to you, his eyes scanning your face with an intrigue and intensity that leaves both of you a little breathless.
“Hi.” the handsome stranger says as his lips curl into a grin.
“Hi, there,” you echo, smiling back at him. ”Did you follow me in here?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was fate?”
You pretend to think about it. “By the way you watched me walk in here… no.”
He chuckles. “Fair. I had to ask you a question.”
“Luckily for you, I love questions.” you hum, placing both hands on the counter behind you and leaning against it in a silent invitation not only to ask his question, but also to approach.
Thankfully for you, he does both, stepping closer with a small chuckle and asking, “I was wondering if you believe in love at first sight.”
“Oh, brother—” you start to laugh, and he joins you before waving his hands to get you to stop.
“Hear me out!”
“My listening ears are on,” you reply with a smile and coy tilt of your head that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed, based on the way his already probing gaze intensifies.
“Do you?” he asks again, and you think about it for a moment.
“Not really,” you admit, letting out a small giggle at the disapproving look he gives you. “But maybe I can be convinced.”
He smiles widely, looking so bright that it truly dazzles you before continuing on to say, “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Why?” you ask. “Do you?”
“I don’t think I did,” he answers carefully, “until I saw you just now.”
“Oh, brother!” you burst out laughing—half from surprise and half from being flustered by how surprisingly sincere he sounded. In your attempt to recover from your outburst, you catch a glimpse of him to see that he’s gazing at you openly with a fond look in his eyes. “You are really something, you know that?”
He steps closer to you with a heat in his eyes, a glowing ember of intensity burning as he asks, “Something good or something bad?”
You shrug playfully and lean closer, wanting him nearer to you. “Jury’s still out on that part.”
He chuckles and wets his lips before his gaze drops to yours. “Can I present some new evidence?” he murmurs, and you tilt your head to the side as you pretend to think it over. “Has anyone ever told you that it’s really cute when you do that?”
“Of course,” you snicker. “Why do you think I do it?”
“So you’re turning up the charm right now, but you don’t believe in love at first sight?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Is it love at first sight or attraction, sir?”
He grins and steps even closer, dangerously close to touching you. “So you’re attracted to me.”
You look around, confused. “Now who said all that?”
“You just did.”
”I most certainly did not.”
He half-scoffs, half-laughs in disbelief and points at you accusingly. “I heard you.”
“You heard wrong, I guess,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug before patting his chest twice. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you both hesitate, neither of you wanting to exit the intimate moment. However, when it buzzes a second time, then a third, you decide to give up and pull your phone from your pocket to check it.
jeno [23:04] hey i’m back
jeno [23:04] i have your surprise :)
jeno [23:05] let me know where to find you
You lock your phone and look up at the handsome stranger with a small frown. “Anyway, this was great, but I have to go find someone.”
He frowns deeply and catches your hand as it leaves his chest, lacing his fingers with yours and looking up at you. “Do you actually have to leave or am I making you nervous?”
“I told my friend I’d find him later, and it’s officially later,” you explain truthfully, and he seems to hear the sincerity in your voice, because he relaxes visibly. “Maybe I’ll find you after?” you offer, and he perks up, gently squeezing your hand.
“I’d like that.”
“Can I get a name? So I know who I’m looking for later?” you ask.
He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you when you find me later.”
You pout, and he smiles fondly at you. “I guess.” you relent, grabbing the soda and snacks you came to get off of the counter and heading towards the kitchen exit. “See you later?”
He nods resolutely. “See you later.”
You exit the kitchen with a small smile that threatens to take over your whole face if you don’t calm your spirits as you begin your second search of the night for Jeno.
After grabbing the presents you got for him from where you’d stashed them in Chaewon’s room, it doesn’t take you long at all to find him, the male still lingering by the entrance when you spot him. You sneak around a small group of people and pop up beside him, making him jolt in surprise and clutch his chest.
“Hi,” you giggle, and Jeno slumps with relief when his eyes lock on you, a warm smile coming to his face.
“Hey,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“So… how do you want to do this?” you ask curiously. “I can go first if you want?”
“No, I want to go first for sure,” he replies with a sureness in his voice that leaves you a little surprised and mildly impressed.
You gesture for him to start, still holding your present for him behind your back, and he retrieves two small, rectangular boxes from inside his jacket pocket.
“That looks expensive,” you say worriedly, and he chuckles fondly before waving a hand dismissively.
“It wasn’t too bad, don’t worry.” he replies reassuringly as he hands you the small boxes.
You gesture awkwardly with your hands still behind your back, trying your best to indicate that your hands are currently out of commission, and his eyes light up with understanding before he’s gingerly opening one of the navy blue boxes.
You gasp once you’ve peered into the box, your eyes wide as you look up at him in surprise. ”Jeno.”
“Is it too much? Oh, God, you hate it. I’m sorry–” he starts to worry aloud.
“Wait—Jeno—”
“I can take it back, maybe, and you can pick out something you’d like more—”
“Jeno?”
“I should have thought it through more carefully—”
”Jeno!” your voice is gentle in tone but loud enough to catch his attention, his worried eyes locking in on yours. “Please relax.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles embarrassedly, looking down at the floor.
“I was going to say that I genuinely love them. The necklace and the earrings are stunning, and they’re exactly my style.” you say sincerely, in awe as you stare down at the beautiful pieces of jewelry Jeno bought you. The necklace is a silver choker, a paperclip-like link type chain with a diamond-encrusted butterfly in the center. The earrings are matching silver hoops with butterflies adorned along the rings of metal, and your jaw drops slightly as you take in the beauty of Jeno’s present.
“You really like it?” he asks excitedly, a hint of worry still in his voice, but when you nod, his brows unfurrow and he smiles widely, relieved. “I saw the set and it reminded me of you. It’s beautiful, classy, and fun.”
You can’t help but smile. “You think I’m classy and fun?”
“Of course,” he answers instantly, and your smile widens as you step closer to him curiously.
“You think I’m beautiful?” you ask with your eyebrows raised, and Jeno visibly swallows.
“I do,” he bashfully agrees, and you coo fondly, wanting nothing more than to set his present down and wrap him in a tight hug. “I really do.”
“Jeno,” you tease playfully, “I’m kinda dying to know what’s in the other box.”
“Oh, yeah!” he exclaims, closing the first box and opening the second as he explains, “I just got them in gold and silver because I know you tend to wear both depending on your mood and your outfit, so I gave you options.”
“Jeno, that is so thoughtful.” you gush appreciatively, and he blushes immediately, cheeks pinking along with the tips of his ears. “I absolutely love them,” you say gratefully, a warm smile curling your lips.
“Thank God,” he sighs with a laugh that you join him in.
“Okay, so… don’t know how I’m gonna top that,” you joke, “but it’s my turn now.”
“You have my undivided attention,” he assures you, and you can’t help but bat your lashes at him slightly.
“I like the idea of that.” you say flirtatiously, and he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Okay, here, we’ll trade and you’ll open.”
“Deal,” he agrees, swapping presents with you. You watch nervously as he unties the ribbon on the white box and lifts the lid. “This looks delicious, holy shit.”
“I made it myself,” you say carefully.
He looks up at you in surprise. “From scratch?”
You nod. “From scratch.”
“That’s amazing,” Jeno marvels. “Isn’t Victoria sponge cake hard to make?”
“Baking is only hard if you can’t follow instructions.” you say with a resolute nod, and Jeno snickers.
“I never thought of you as a rule-follower, if I’m being honest,” he admits.
You shrug. “Rules and instructions are very different to me, but I can be very obedient when I want to be.”
Jeno pauses at that, eyeing you suspiciously. “Oh, yeah? Like when?”
“In the bedroom.” you answer without hesitation, smiling in amusement as Jeno’s eyes widen slightly.
“You never gave off ‘obedient,’ y’know.” Jeno informs you.
“If I can tell you know what you’re doing, I’ll listen to you.” you reply with a nonchalant shrug.
“Yeah? Would you listen to me?” Jeno asks, voice quieter and, if you’re not mistaken, lower than before. There’s a suggestive edge to his voice, playful and flirtatious, but in the way that very much indicates that he’d stop joking in a minute if you were into it.
“Depends,” you answer, smiling up at him. “Do you know what you’re doing in there?”
His responding chuckle is significantly deeper than the ones before it, the sound undeniably attractive as he regards you carefully. “Absolutely.”
“Is that so?” you muse softly, watching him intently. “And I’m supposed to go off of your word?”
“You don’t trust me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and you shrug.
“I just tend to learn better from experience.” you reply with a small flirtatious smile that threatens to overtake your whole face.
“Maybe we can arrange that.” he says with a playful grin.
“I’ll keep my schedule open.” you say with a curt nod, and he snorts in amusement.
“Perfect.” he agrees before focusing his attention on the smaller box in his arms. He sets the cake box down on the table by the entryway and unwraps the other, cube-shaped box, his eyes widening with excitement when its contents are revealed to him.
“No way!” he gasps, turning the Big Ben snow globe this way and that.
“I remembered you have a snow globe collection and I thought I could help you add to it.” you explain, and Jeno looks up at you, eyes bright.
“You’re amazing. Thank you so much.” he gushes happily, and you beam at him before waving him off.
“Of course, Jeno. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you while I was gone.” you say sweetly, and he grins before opening his arms for a hug,
You step into his embrace readily and wrap your arms around his middle, the two of you squeezing each other tightly. When you pull back slightly, you realize Jeno still hasn’t let you go, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist.
“I really missed you, y’know.” Jeno says softly, and your heart warms.
“I missed you too, Jeno. It’s good to be back.” you echo, and he smiles before gently releasing you, his reluctance apparent in the way his fingers linger as they pull away from you. “Oh!” you say, remembering something out of nowhere. “I actually still have to give Winter her present, so I’m gonna track her down and do that.”
“Oh, of course, yeah, go for it. Thank you again—I’m gonna demolish this cake later.” Jeno says, finishing his sentence in a conspiratorial whisper, and you giggle.
“I’m glad. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” You reach up and pinch his chin gently, smiling wider when his blush from earlier returns in full force.
Jeno nods shyly, and you release him before venturing further into the party in search of Winter.
Finally spotting Winter across the room on her phone, you cross the living room and tap her shoulder from behind, smiling widely when she turns around.
“Hey!” she greets excitedly, wrapping you in a hug. You two rock from side to side for a moment, hearts full, before you release each other. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to give you your present,” you say with a small shrug and a smile, and her eyes widen. “It’s nothing crazy!” you warn her, waving your hands dismissively, and she shrugs, reaching out for the gift bag in your hand with opening and closing fists.
“I wanna see! Can I see, please?” Winter pleads, and you give in with a fond laugh, handing over the gift bag.
You wait with bated breath as she opens the present, her eyes softening fondly as she gazes down at the stuffed plushie in her hand.
“It’s so cute! How’d you even find a desert fox plushie?” she asks, in awe as she turns it this way and that.
“I had it commissioned from a toy store boutique only in England,” you explain, and she smiles widely, wrapping you in another tight hug.
“Thank you so much,” she gushes, pulling back from the embrace to clutch her plushie to her chest tightly. “I gotta come up with a name for you, little guy!”
“You do that,” you laugh, moving a stray curl out of her face. “I’m gonna keep making my way through the party.”
“Okay,” she sing-songs. “See you later!”
“See you, babe!” you chirp, waving goodbye before heading back the way you came, deciding to take a detour into the kitchen for more snacks.
You’re barely in there for five minutes, munching happily on salty and sweet snacks alike, before you exit and run almost directly into the chest of someone; the only thing stopping the collision are their quick reflexes as they steady you in place.
“Sorry!” you apologize, stepping back and looking up to your victim before you stop short and a pleased smile curls your lips.
“Hey, you. Was wondering where you’d run off to.” the handsome stranger from earlier says, smiling at you.
“Oh, y’know. Making the rounds, saying hi to everyone. It is my party, after all.” you reply with a secretive smile, and he steps closer with raised eyebrows of intrigue.
“Is that so?” he asks, and you nod, stepping a bit closer to hear him better.
“Mm, yeah,” you hum. “You know what’s weird?”
“What is it?”
“This party is for me, and yet there are people here I’ve never met before,” you muse. “Like you.”
“Maybe it’s a sign you're meant to get to know me.” he suggests with a wry grin, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
“Good one.” you reply playfully. “So what should we do to get to know each other?” you ask with a playful lilt and feigned curiosity.
“Mm, you could start by telling me more about yourself.” he replies, and you raise your brows.
“‘Myself’ is a very broad topic,” you point out, and he snorts. “Be more specific.”
“Fair, fair.” he agrees with a chuckle. “What are…” he trails off thoughtfully before he perks up again, “your love languages?”
“I feel like this is an unfair advantage sort of question,” you reply with a small pout. (You do not miss the way his gaze softens fondly. Or the way it drops to your lips.) “So, I’ll only answer if you do, too.”
“That’s fair,” he agrees with a smile. “You first, though.”
“Mine are,” you say as you try to recall what the quiz results said the last time you took it, “acts of service, physical touch, and quality time. What about you?”
“Wait, let’s unpack yours first—”
“No, you say yours, then we’ll unpack mine. Fess up, bucko.” you press, poking him gently in the chest.
He laughs at your poke and mini outburst before obliging. “Physical touch,” he murmurs, leaning into your space and smirking slightly when you half-step, half-stumble back, “words of affirmation,” he straightens up and gestures between the two of you casually with a cheeky grin before finishing with, “and quality time.”
“You’re so smooth,” you gush sarcastically, and he snickers.
“Why, thank you. I’d say I try, but then I’d be lying.”
You shoot him a look. “Don’t push it.”
Holding his hands up in surrender, he shrugs. “My bad.”
“As long as you know.” you reply with a sweet smile, and his gaze softens. “What?”
“You’ve got a beautiful smile, you know that?” he murmurs, and your cheeks warm.
“Thanks,” you mumble bashfully, and he coos fondly at you.
“So cute,” he fawns.
You glower at him. “I’m out of here,” you mutter, undeniably flustered and embarrassed about it.
“Aw, come back, cutie—” he slips his fingers around your wrist gently and tugs you closer, smiling when there’s virtually no resistance from your end. “I didn’t mean to make you all nervous,” he apologizes with a playful, teasing lilt that tells you he might not actually be all that sorry.
Turning your nose up, you look away from him even as his hand slips down to let his thumb stroke gently at the back of your hand. At your small intake of breath, he smiles and tugs you even closer—dangerously close, actually—before moving to wrap his hand around the small of your back.
It’s almost as if the Fates themselves decided to intervene, the divine timing is that impeccable.
His phone pings, and he frowns before pulling it out of his back pocket and checking the screen. His face falls visibly and so drastically that it actually hurts you to see for a moment, leading you to avert your gaze politely.
His hand slowly retreats from its original path, and you’re shocked to find that you’re a bit disappointed.
“Do me a small favor? Schedule some time for me later before your busy, busy party ends? I’ll be back.” he says hopefully, squeezing your hand gently before shooting you an apologetic smile and turning to weave between a couple of people before disappearing into the hallway.
You try not to look as disappointed as you feel, but apparently you fail because Seulgi’s by your side moments later from out of virtually nowhere.
“I saw you pouting from all the way across the room,” she chuckles fondly as she strokes your back gently. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not pouting,” you mumble, and Seulgi raises an eyebrow.
“Tell that to your bottom lip,” she points out, and you tuck it back in with an air of defeat. “Exactly. Now what’s wrong?”
“I was talking to this really cute guy earlier,” you admit with a slowly deepening frown, “but he had to leave really suddenly.”
Seulgi makes a sympathetic hum. “Did you get his name?”
“No!” you complain, and she nods in understanding.
“Well, even if he had to leave, he might come to another party in the future—because he clearly knows someone here, you know?”
“What’s wrong?” Chaewon asks, a tipsy Winter in tow.
“How do you know something’s wrong?” you ask, confused.
“You’re pouting,” Chaewon points out, and you splutter, bewildered.
“I’m not!” you exclaim defensively, and Winter winces sympathetically.
“You are.” she confirms, reaching out and unceremoniously poking your bottom lip before giggling to herself.
“She’s mad her party crush pulled a Cinderella and dipped on her,” Seulgi explains.
“Ah,” Chaewon and Winter both say sympathetically.
“That sucks,” Winter sighs. “Speaking of cute guys disappearing—has anyone seen my boyfriend anywhere?”
“What’s he wearing?” you ask, and Winter moves to answer before Chaewon unknowingly cuts her off.
“It’s so weird that you and Haechan have been at this party for so long and have yet to run into each other.” Chaewon marvels aloud, and you shrug casually.
“I probably walked by him or something and just didn’t know,” you brush it off, and Chaewon nods thoughtfully.
“Walked by who and didn’t know?” Yunjin asks from behind you, and when you turn to face her, she frowns. “Why are you pouting?”
“Mother of God—” you huff, crossing your arms, and Yunjin winces.
“Jeez, tough crowd.” she chuckles. “Walked by who and didn’t know?” she presses.
“Haechan,” you explain, and her brows furrow together in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Oh,” is all she says after a moment. “Wait, can you, um, come help me with something in the bathroom?” she asks you, eyes concerningly piercing.
“Sure,” you mumble, definitely confused but picking up on her sense of urgency.
“We’ll be right back,” Yunjin explains, tugging you away. “Roommate problems!” she calls over her shoulder, and you grimace to really sell the direness of the situation.
You let her tug you into the bathroom towards the back of the apartment by Seulgi’s and Chaewon’s bedrooms, and she sits you down on the toilet before taking a deep breath.
“I don’t exactly know how to tell you this, but I was trying to find you earlier before this spiraled out of control.” she starts.
“You’re scaring me,” you complain, and she shushes you as she unlocks her phone and starts searching for something.
“You did meet Haechan, actually, but I have a feeling no one told you that you met Haechan.” Yunjin says finally, and you think back to the very small amount of people you met for the first time today, pondering over who it might be before Yunjin turns her phone to show you the screen, and—
“Fuck.” you mumble hoarsely, and Yunjin nods slightly before closing her phone on the screen she’s just showed you of a photo of your friend group, presumably from when you were abroad, where Winter is sitting happily on the lap of— “that’s the stranger I was talking to.” you say sadly. “My party crush.”
“Did he ever say his name?” she asks, and you think back, growing increasingly more irritated when you realize—
“No,” you mutter bitterly, “he must have conveniently forgotten to share that part.”
“Can I say something?” Yunjin says carefully, and you nod solemnly. “I saw you two staring at each other before he followed you into the kitchen.” Your blood runs cold, and it must show on your face, because she quickly adds, “I’m not mad at you, and I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m just gonna warn you, because that staring contest was intense, and I don’t know what happened in that kitchen—I don’t want to!” she says suddenly, putting her hand up to silence you as you move to speak before slowly continuing with, “I just know none of that can happen in front of Winter, so it shouldn’t happen at all.”
“Agreed.” you sigh sadly. “Yeah. I mean, I’m pissed as hell, and I might maim him the next time I see him, but other than that, I guess I’m fine.”
“I mean. yeah. Definitely agree with maiming him, actually.” she agrees after a moment of thought. “Just do something subtle and easy to explain away.”
You smile at her, your spirits lifted slightly. “You’re the best.”
“Love you, girl.” she says sincerely, bending down to hug you before helping you to your feet. “I got your back.”
You head back out there with no pout in sight, only a deceptive smile as you plan your revenge.
It’s not long before the not-so-mysterious stranger comes back around, by which time you’ve fully worked yourself up into a huff about the situation once more, crossing your arms, leaning against the wall, and eyeing him disapprovingly as he approaches.
“Why so serious?” he jokes, and you raise an eyebrow.
“At what point were you going to tell me you’re dating Winter?” you ask, deciding to get right to the point, and he freezes, shock on his face. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately.
“For what?” you test him, and he frowns deeply.
“For hiding that from you.” he sighs, and you huff as he continues, “I just really wanted to get to know you, and I felt like I had to hide that because you knowing would ruin it!”
You look at him with an eyebrow raised pointedly. “And what would you call this?”
His frown turns to a petulant pout. “Ruined?” he asks.
“Ding, ding, ding,” you say sarcastically before turning to leave.
“Wait, I’m— I’m really sorry,” he pleads, catching your hand before you can slip away. “Can we start over a little bit?”
“How are we gonna start over a little bit?” you ask skeptically, and he stands up straighter, tugging you a bit closer before smiling hopefully and releasing your hand to wave in greeting.
“Hi, I’m Haechan, Winter’s boyfriend,” he introduces himself as he offers his hand to shake. As you take it, he gently urges you closer with a testing tug before adding, “and I think you’re beautiful.”
“Haechan!” you whisper, half-laughing in surprise, and he shrugs with a sheepish grin.
“Figured I’d lay all my cards out on the table this time.”
“Kinda ballsy, no?” you raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms, and he chuckles.
“I’m a pretty ballsy guy.”
You eye him up and down before tilting your head to the side and saying, “I’m sure.”
“So am I forgiven?” he asks hopefully.
“For now,” you reply after a moment of thinking, and continue at the sight of his excited smile, “but I’m watching you.”
“I’d be upset if you weren’t.” he murmurs, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
It doesn’t take long for your one-sided animosity to dissipate as you and Haechan manage to fall into a normal enough conversation about your activities in Oxford. At one point, the familiar but unpleasant smell of weed filters into your senses, making you subconsciously wrinkle your nose in distaste.
Haechan raises an eyebrow, amused. “You alright?”
“You don’t smell that?” you ask, and he sniffs the air before he chuckles.
“I’m guessing you’re not much of a smoker?” he speculates.
You shake your head, tipping your head back to swallow the rest of your drink. “Definitely not.” You lick your lips to clean up the remnants of your drink, and barely stifle the laugh that bubbles up when you notice Haechan watching your mouth with both entirely rapt attention and a slightly dazed expression. “See something you like?”
“Sure do,” he breathes, and you yelp, swatting his arm lightly. “You asked!”
“As a joke!”
“Well, sorry for failing to read the room properly. I was a little, um, distracted.”
“Haechan.”
“Hm?”
“Stop staring at my lips.”
“What if I don’t?” he asks, stepping closer to you slowly. “Hm?”
“You’re awfully bold for a guy who’s dating one of my friends.” you murmur back, and he shrugs, smiling flirtatiously.
“I know what I want.” he answers casually, and the resolve in his voice takes you by surprise, leaving you to swallow a growing lump in your throat.
“I’m, uh,” you stammer, looking around for something, anything, that can save you from his intense attention. “I’m gonna go see if they want snacks,” you finally answer pathetically, and he doesn’t buy it for a minute, a smug grin curling his lips before he nods, seemingly complying.
He waits for you to move past him, staying perfectly still and therefore forcing you to squeeze between him and the counter, and head towards the living room before he’s so close behind you that he’s practically on you and only then does he reply, a smile audible in his voice as he murmurs, “Let’s go, then.”
“Hi, my dear friends. Are we having a good time?” you ask as you re-enter the living room and scan over each of your friends, all sitting in a circle with Yunjin’s infamous hot pink bong placed carefully in her lap. The party continues on around them, people only sparing cursory glances at the very occupied couch and nearby seating of Seulgi’s and Chaewon’s living room, but you couldn’t care less about the other guests, instead focusing your attention on your seven cross-faded friends.
Yunjin, ever the lightweight, looks up at you with red-rimmed, half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile. “Never better.”
“I actually just want to say that I missed you so much,” Chaewon sniffles, hurriedly wiping away a tear before looking up at you earnestly. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
“I missed you, too!” you reply, touched, and she sniffles loudly, the tip of her nose pinking in that signature way that lets you know more tears are en route whether she likes it or not.
“I’m not gonna lie, yo,” Mark mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face and looking over at you. “I’m about to be starving.”
“‘About to be starving’ is crazy, actually.” you snicker, and Mark joins in your laughter, his laugh bubbling up inside of him almost uncontrollably.
“Well, you know how it goes; we smoke, we get high, we get the munchies.” Mark explains, and you nod in understanding.
“Mark… I went to England for a study abroad program… not to get a lobotomy.” you say slowly, and he snorts loudly in surprise and amusement. “I remember what happens when y’all get high.” you remind him, and he lifts his hands up in surrender, nodding back at you with a grin. “Do you guys want food from the deli down the block?”
“Yes!” The resounding chorus of assent from all your high friends actually takes you by surprise, sending you stepping back in shock only to stumble directly into Haechan’s chest. He steadies you instantly, hands gripping your shoulders securely, and quietly double-checks with you to make sure you’re actually sturdy before releasing you.
You hate that you found his touch comforting for even a second, trying your best internally to squash the initial attraction you had to him as you attempt to focus on the task at hand.
“Okay, sounds good to me. Can y’all just type your names and what you want in my Notes app?” you ask, unlocking your phone, opening the Notes app, and passing your phone to Yunjin. As your phone makes its way around the circle, you turn slightly to face Haechan, who’s already watching you with an unnerving level of intensity.
“Haechan, why don’t you go with her?” Seulgi suggests, completely missing the warning glare you send her way. “She can’t carry all of that by herself.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” he agrees easily, and you purse your lips for a moment, breathing in deeply before turning fully so you’re face-to-face with Haechan. “Looks like we’re gonna spend some more one-on-one time together.” he says with a secretive smile, and you swallow hard, not knowing what to expect from this little excursion.
Your phone eventually makes its way back to you and you look over the orders before putting your phone in your back pocket and heading to grab your coat, Haechan following diligently behind you.
“Okay, we’ll be back soon! Try to hang in there, guys.” you announce, stepping out of the apartment and holding the door open for Haechan, who exits and shuts it behind himself.
As you two make your way down the hall to the elevator, he speeds up slightly so he’s walking in front of you before turning fully around to face you, taking smooth backwards strides down the hall.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask, confused, and he shakes his head with a smile.
“Don’t mind me.” he replies, and you snort in amusement.
“Kinda hard not to mind you when you seem hellbent on staring holes into my face.” you mutter as you press the elevator button.
“Not my fault you’re nice to look at.” he defends himself, and you look over at him instantly, shock written all over your face. “What’s wrong? Surely you’ve heard that about yourself before.”
“I sure have,” you agree readily, sighing in relief when the elevator door opens. Stepping in, you add, “I just haven’t heard it from the mouth of my friend’s boyfriend.”
“Ah, well.” He follows you into the elevator and shrugs with a “what can you do?” type of smile, making you narrow your eyes. “First time for everything, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you reply slowly, regarding him suspiciously. “Let’s try and make that first time the last time, okay?”
“No promises.” he murmurs, a smile audible in his voice. When you look over at him, he winks at you so quickly you almost think you imagined it, and you jolt, making a noise of bewilderment that sounds embarrassingly close to a mix of a squawk or squeak before turning to face forward again.
The weather actually feels quite nice, you realize when you both get outside, a light, cool breeze filtering through the trees, and you and Haechan walk alongside each other for the first two, maybe three minutes in silence before he breaks it.
“Can I ask you a question?” Haechan asks, looking over at you as you two walk to the deli.
“Depends… is it weird?” you return his question with another question, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Don’t think so.”
“Okay, then shoot.”
“I noticed your reaction to the smell of the weed smoke earlier,” he recalls, and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do you not smoke?”
“Not at all,” you reply, and he nods in understanding. “I don’t do any drugs.”
“Me either,” he replies, and a mildly surprised smile makes its way to your lips. “Can I ask if you have a reason for never wanting to try anything?”
You’re silent for a moment as you attempt to find the right words to explain yourself and Haechan waits patiently, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence before you break it. “I don’t like the feeling of not being in control of myself.” you say carefully, and he gives you an emphatic nod that piques your curiosity. “You too?”
“Somewhat, yeah, but I was mainly nodding because I completely get it. For me, I don’t like moving any slower than usual or feeling restricted in any way.”
“That makes perfect sense, too.” you say, giving him a firm, approving nod of your own, and he chuckles quietly. “I’ve always wondered about what it might be like to just… mellow out and calm down, y’know?”
“Definitely,” he agrees. “They usually get so… happy.”
“Exactly! Well, except for when Chaewon starts crying out of nowhere.” you add.
Haechan laughs. “Yeah, I don’t know what that’s about.”
“That’s another thing, too.” you say, starting to feel more comfortable talking about it to someone who understands. “I feel like some drugs—especially, like, weed, LSD, acid, shrooms, and stuff like that—they tend to bring out, like, parts of your subconscious that are typically hidden away.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that and I’ve definitely seen it happen,” Haechan says, sounding surprisingly solemn.
“Yeah, so… whatever’s going on under the surface in here,” you say, tapping your temple, “is none of my business.” you finish with a resolute nod, making Haechan snicker. “I will simply continue raw-dogging life on this bitch of an earth.”
“That’s so real.” Haechan says through his laughter, making you smile.
“Thank you!” you chirp. “Also, when you say you don’t like moving slower or feeling restricted, do you mean in a physical or mental sense? Or is it both?”
“Hmm,” Haechan hums thoughtfully. “Definitely both. I just feel like… I would describe myself and my lifestyle as somewhat fast-paced, y’know? Like, not really very sedentary, I’m always on the move, and if I’m high off of, like, weed or something, I feel like all I’d be able to do is… vegetate… and I hate the thought of that.”
“That’s so real,” you say, echoing Haechan’s earlier statement. “Well, you know, if you want to move faster, there’s always cocaine,” you joke, and he snorts loudly, clearly not expecting your comment.
“I definitely wouldn’t try cocaine,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I can just imagine my poor mom if I came to visit her one day and I was all strung out and tweaking.”
“Aw, are you a mama’s boy?” you ask teasingly, nudging him with your shoulder.
“Maybe a little bit, yeah,” he admits with a shy smile, and you grin.
“That’s sweet.” you assure him, and he visibly relaxes, laughing with an air of bashfulness. “We’re here, by the way!” you point out, gesturing to the deli less than thirty feet away at the end of the block.
Haechan jogs slightly ahead of you, opening the door and holding it for you to enter.
“Thank you,” you say with a grateful smile as you step inside. The smell of the deli is delicious, the scents of various foods being cooked wafting through the air, and for a moment you half-expect to start floating involuntarily towards the tastiest smelling dish.
“Okay, let’s get these orders in,” you mutter to yourself before making your way over to where the grill cooks are stationed. “Hi, how are you feeling tonight?” you greet politely, exchanging brief pleasantries before continuing on with, “I actually have a pretty big order I’d like to place with sandwiches and sides, but I don’t mind waiting if I have to!”
“Go ahead, miss,” one of the cooks says, and you look down at your phone before starting to read off the orders.
Haechan stands off to the side and watches on as you rattle off the nine different sandwich and side order combos to the cooks, who nod and start to prepare them. When you’re finished, you turn to face Haechan and smile sweetly before leading him towards the drinks and snacks.
“Okay, can you help me carry these to the front?” you ask Haechan.
“Of course, yeah,” he answers, and you start to hand him various drinks and snacks off of the note everyone wrote in.
“Okay, a raspberry peach Snapple for me… a Redbull for you—wait, Haechan, you like Redbull but you won’t try cocaine…? Seems fake,” you comment, and Haechan lets out a shocked laugh before raising his hands—well, he’s holding a drink in each hand, so fists—in surrender.
“Take it easy on me!” he begs jokingly, and you pretend to think about it before relenting with a smile and continuing to collect the drinks.
“Mountain Dew for Seulgi… Sprite for Jeno… oop, and a Sprite for Chenle, too… root beer for Winter… blue Gatorade for Mark… Arizona raspberry iced tea for Yunjin, and finally, that XXX Vitamin Water that Chaewon’s always raving about.” You close the refrigerator door with your hip, the two of you carefully carrying your armfuls of beverages to the counter.
“I never got the Vitamin Water hype.” Haechan admits.
“It’s essentially juice, but like water with a splash of juice, maybe two if you’re lucky.” you say. “At least, that’s what I think, but some of them do actually taste pretty good, too.”
“Hm,” he remarks thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I just never got into it.”
“You got into that Redbull pretty easily though, huh?” you tease, and he laughs, his cheeks pinking ever so slightly, and you’re glad he’s looking away so he can’t see how blatantly you paused to look at him.
“Miss, some of your order is ready!” One of the cooks calls out to you, and you shoot them a thumbs up as they bring two sandwiches and a couple of trays to the counter for you. “Do you want to pay now or when we’re finished preparing everything?”
“Oh, I can pay now! Just let me go get the chips and stuff.” you say before whizzing off to where the snacks are, returning shortly after with Seulgi’s Takis and Chenle’s red Doritos and placing them on the counter triumphantly.
The worker manning the register rings your stuff up and reads you out the total, to which you respond by pulling out your phone to tap the card reader, but Haechan calls your name before you can complete the transaction, making you look over at him in confusion.
“I got it,” he offers, reaching for the card reader with his own phone only for you to shoot him a funny look and nudge his phone out of the way to finish paying with your own phone.
“You didn’t have to pay for it, Haechan,” you assure him. “Think of it as the small fee I had to pay for disappearing from the country for about half of a year.”
“Yeah, but I was being a gentleman.” he protests with a frown.
“It’s okay! Be a gentleman to your girlfriend—not me.” you say with expectantly raised brows.
“I’m trying to impress you, though,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.
“Read the room, maybe?” you chuckle, and he scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Something wrong?”
“I’m not much of a reader.” he replies with a dismissive shrug, and you raise your eyebrows.
“I’m a librarian.” you remind him. “My job is literally all about reading.”
“On second thought,” Haechan blurts out, “I literally read every day, all the time.” When you snicker in amusement, he grins and continues with, “I’m being so serious. I’ve read every bottle of shampoo and body wash in my shower front to back!” he presses, and you burst into laughter.
“You’re ridiculous.” you giggle as you recover from your laughing fit, and he grins shamelessly.
“I made you laugh, though,” he points out with a smug little grin. “So you kinda like it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie with a sniff, looking away.
“You think I’m funny,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he gets closer. “And if earlier was any indication, you think I’m attractive.”
“Where are you going with this?” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“You like me.” he replies simply, and you choke on your spit.
“Two fairly objective observations are not an indication of me liking you.” you splutter indignantly, and Haechan raises his brow.
“Being attractive is objective now?” he asks skeptically, and you glare at him, turning to the row of deli cooks pretending not to be watching your conversation intently.
“Is he a handsome guy?” you ask them, and they all look between each other with confusion and mild discomfort. “Literally no homo. Please relax. Is he a handsome guy or is he an uggo?” you emphasize, and one of them snorts.
“He’s definitely not ugly, no,” one of the cooks pipes up, and they all nod in agreement. “Handsome guy, actually.”
“Good bone structure,” the cook beside him adds, and you could swear Haechan starts to blush. “Yeah, he’s a good looking dude.”
“Sí, muy guapo.” A cook you can’t even see chimes in, and you and Haechan look at each other, bewildered.
“How many of you are back there?” Haechan asks as he chuckles nervously.
“No te preocupes, amigo.” the same cook says, still concealed from view. “Eres guapísimo.”
“Thank you, guys.” you reply gratefully before turning to stick your tongue out at Haechan triumphantly.
To your surprise, his gaze darkens. “Do that again.”
“No, I’m good.” you reply immediately, fixing your face and turning away from him. “Little freak.”
“Mm, maybe a little bit.” he hums, and you grimace.
“Yuck.” you mutter, narrowing your eyes in his direction. “Get a grip. As I was saying, me finding you funny or attractive has nothing to do with liking you.”
“Why wouldn’t you, though?” he presses, and you let out an exasperated sigh before turning fully to face him.
“You have a girlfriend!” you whisper-shout, confused even further by the way he looks at you, smug and unimpressed.
“So that’s the only thing stopping you?” he says slowly, and you pause as you realize what you’ve admitted to.
“It’s the only thing that matters.” you huff with an air of finality, and Haechan just chuckles, stepping closer.
“Not this? Hm? Not how good—no—how right this feels?” he murmurs suggestively, and you shake your head firmly.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” you mutter, and he scoffs in disbelief.
“Are you really gonna keep playing dumb?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sing-song, and he rolls his eyes.
“Sure.” he murmurs, amused.
Desperate to change the topic, you look around, your eyes landing on the bags of food on the countertop.
“Man, those fries smell so good,” you groan, staring enviously at the bag containing Winter’s order of curly fries.
“Mm, yeah?” Haechan hums, looking from the bag to you. He puts a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture and pops open the plastic container. He pulls out a small handful of Winter’s curly fries, about as much as he can fit between his thumb and forefinger, and grins at you, winking before popping one in his mouth.
He reaches his hand out, offering you one of his stolen goods, and you hesitate for a second before deciding to reach forward and take the proffered curly fry. As you chew it, your eyes roll back into your head in ecstasy, the fried good the perfect amount of salty, crunchy, and warm.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully, and he waves you off dismissively.
“You’re welcome,” he replies. “It’s our little secret, okay?”
“Jeez, I just met you tonight and you’re already trusting me with secrets?” you chuckle, and he shrugs.
“Well, should I not trust you?” he asks curiously, and you shake your head instantly in disagreement.
“You can trust me, don’t worry.” you assure him, and he smiles widely, nodding slowly in understanding.
“Great.”
“The real question is if I can trust you,” you continue, and he chuckles.
“You can,” he says confidently, and you raise your eyebrows skeptically.
“How do I know I can trust that?” you ask, and he laughs, rolling his eyes slightly as he leans closer to you conspiratorially.
“That’s just a risk you’re gonna have to take.”
“No, thanks. I’m not big on risks.” you admit.
Haechan tilts his head to the side curiously. “You don’t take any risks?”
You pause to think about it, thoughts racing back to earlier when you made the mental pact with yourself to be more daring and take more risks. “Not really, no. Unless you count letting Yunjin drive.”
He snorts. “I’m talking big risks.”
You stare at him blankly. “Have you ever been in the car with Yunjin?”
Chuckling and shaking his head slightly, he says, “I have.”
“It’s pretty risky.”
“I’m talking about different risks, though. Think harder.” he presses.
You sigh loudly but oblige, thinking about it again. “I guess studying abroad in Oxford felt pretty risky… I was essentially all alone on the other side of the world.”
He shakes his head. “Bigger,” he explains. “I’m talking about something that,” his gaze slowly falls to your lips and he continues, “could go really wrong.”
It feels like he’s hinting at something, and you’re not sure you want to find out.
“Truthfully, I don’t get why I would take risks like those.” you say with a pensive frown, and he smiles, eyes still trained on your mouth with an unmistakable fascination as he steps closer to you, practically cornering you against the snack rack behind you, and if he hears your squeak of alarm, he chooses not to comment.
“It’s about the reward,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips slowly. “People take risks because they think that the reward is worth it in comparison to what could go wrong.”
“Well, I don’t think most risks I can think of off of the top of my head are worth it,” you say with a stumped pout.
“I can think of one I wanna take right now,” he hums softly, reaching up to rest one hand on the rack behind you, and you balk, finally starting to understand what he’s been hinting at.
“I, um, think that might be too risky.” you reply cautiously, and he chuckles quietly.
“I disagree,” he says plainly. “I think it’d be so worth it.” he breathes out, his gentle breath fanning over your lips, the minty scent tempting you more than you’d like to admit.
“If you try and kiss me right now,” you say quietly, “I will bite your lip until it bleeds.”
He snickers and nods in understanding. “Understood.”
“Is that risk worth it now?” you ask wryly, and he bites back a laugh.
“I don’t know, let me find out.” he says, leaning in closer, and you yelp, pushing his chest reflexively and, when he barely budges, clapping a hand over your mouth and glaring at him as he laughs loudly. “Man, you’re cute.”
“Shut up,” you mutter contritely, moving your hand away when he relents and steps back. “Let’s not ask why I don’t feel comfortable taking risks and ask, instead, why you—” you poke his chest accusingly, “feel so comfortable being so reckless.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, explaining, “I don’t think it’s that I’m reckless—”
“Yeah, right.” you mutter.
He ignores you. “I think it’s that I want to know what it feels like to truly live.” he finishes, and you pause at that, genuinely taking in his words. “Life is too short to be scared to indulge, you know?”
“Well,” you say slowly, thoughtfully, “I guess that makes sense.”
His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe I could stand to live a little more,” you ponder, noticing the way his eyes drift down to your lips once more and quickly adding, “but that doesn’t mean you can kiss me. I’ll still bite you.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks softly, teasingly, and you nod. “What if I said I kinda like it a little rough?”
“I’d say you’re in the wrong relationship.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Haechan’s eyes widen as he points at you with a bright, triumphant grin. “I’m joking! I’m joking.”
“I don’t think you are.” he replies smugly.
“Oh, brother.”
“You think I’m in the wrong relationship?” he presses, and you shake your head vehemently, desperately trying to cover your tracks.
“Only because Winter is not a ‘likes it a little rough’ kind of girl,” you explain quickly.
He nods in agreement. “This is true.” he admits, and you relax slightly, glad he gets your point. “So, who would be the right relationship for me, hm?” he teases, and you groan loudly, tipping your head back in exasperation. “Got any ideas?”
“Nope.” you answer flatly.
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, leaning closer. “You sure about that?”
“Miss, the rest of your order is ready!” One of the cooks calls out, and you pounce on the interruption eagerly.
“Thank you!” you call back to the cooks before turning to Haechan with a relieved smile. “You know what? We’d better go back before they put out a Missing Persons report for us.” you dodge his taunting question from earlier and carefully remove yourself from your very compromising position, walking towards the counter of the bodega to collect the bags of food. “Are you coming or what?” you huff, attempting to conceal how flustered his previous line of questioning has left you by placing a hand on your hip impatiently.
He shakes his head with a chuckle, but meets you by the door, slipping his fingers in the loops of the numerous bags weighing down your index and middle fingers to relieve you of the burden. He leans forward, opening the door for you and gesturing for you to exit first. “You’re lucky I don’t want to hear any of them complain about their food being cold, because I could do this—” he gestures between the two of you, “all night and then some.”
“That’s great, Casanova,” you drawl, pointing ahead of you down the street towards where you’re heading. “Now walk.”
As you two walk back from the bodega, you can’t help but notice that Haechan’s path keeps veering slightly off-course, the male repeatedly bumping into you as you two walk.
“You good?” you ask finally after what must be the eighth mini-collision, and Haechan chuckles, albeit somewhat sheepishly as he brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Is there a reason why you keep bumping into me? Are the bags throwing you off-balance or something?”
“Would you, uh, believe me if I said that I just like you and want to be close to you?” he answers, and you stop short, blinking at him impassively which causes him to stop walking as well.
“Bold words for someone with a whole girlfriend back at the party.” you reply with a dismissive snort, and he shrugs.
“I don’t know what it is,” he says as you two slowly fall back into a comfortable pace. “I think we’d be good together.”
“Haechan,” you warn.
“You fascinate me,” he admits plainly, staring at your face openly. “I wanna get to know you better.”
“Mm, I don’t know about that,” you say apprehensively.
“I’m gonna learn about you eventually, because I’m not going anywhere.” he replies confidently. “I’m gonna learn everything about you—your hopes, your dreams, your fears—” he leans closer so his breath hits your cheek and continues, “what makes you tick.”
“Well, you wanna know something?” you offer, and he nods instantly, leaning towards you in anticipation. “Something that makes me tick is when guys with girlfriends hit on me very blatantly.”
“Ah, I see,” Haechan remarks thoughtfully. “So I should be more subtle.”
“I—well—no, that’s not really what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean?”
“Stop saying flirtatious things!”
“So you want me to stop saying flirtatious things—”
”Yes, that’s quite literally what I just said—”
“—and start doing flirtatious things.”
Your mouth snaps shut and you stare at him incredulously. “Not even remotely what I meant.”
“No, I think that’s what you were hinting at.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’d better believe it, baby.”
“Calling me ‘baby’ when you have a whole girlfriend is crazy, by the way.”
“Maybe I’m crazy. Did you think about that?”
“Clearly. I’ll let Winter know her boyfriend is actually an escapee from the insane asylum and she’ll just dump you.”
“So you can have me all to yourself… I like it.” He grins, and you open and close your mouth repeatedly, at a loss for words.
“Where are you hearing these things? Haechan, do you often hear things other people don’t?” you ask with patronizing concern, and he bursts out laughing. “It’s not funny, actually! Maybe I will tell Winter after all.”
“She won’t do anything,” he replies through his laughter.
“You’re right.” you agree in disappointment. “Poor girl. She’d probably think she can fix you.”
“I know what could fix me,” he says, fixing you in place with a serious stare.
“Haechan, you’re kinda scaring me.”
“Relax, it’s nothing crazy.”
“You’re not exactly what I’d consider a good judge of what’s crazy or not.”
“I just want your number, God.”
“Oh!” you reply, relieved, and an equally relieved smile appears on his face. “You’re not getting that.”
“Aw, come on!” he whines, leaning on you dramatically. “How am I supposed to get to know you?”
“Through speaking to me in person?”
“So you wanna see me… in person…” he trails off with a suggestive lilt to his voice, wiggling his eyebrows, and you suck your teeth. “If you like me, you can just say that, you know. I won’t tell.”
“You really are crazy.” you marvel, and he grins over at you.
“Is that… intrigue I detect in your voice?” he teases, and you balk.
“No?” you reply a bit too quickly, and his eyes light up.
“You’re intrigued by me!”
“I just wanna know how and where Winter found your crazy ass!”
“So you can go there and get yourself another me?” he replies, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Hate to break it to you, princess, but there’s only one of me.”
“Thank God for that.” you mutter under your breath. “So, do you have, like, a mute button or something?”
“I’ll shut up for the rest of the walk back if you give me your number.” he says with a mischievous smile, and you roll your eyes, Haechan’s ever-so-keen eyes noticing your hesitation. “You’re totally thinking about it.”
“I really want you to stop before you get one or both of us in trouble.”
“I will be as quiet as a street rat if you give me your number and don’t block me before I can text you.”
“Damn, how’d you know I was gonna do that?”
“I know the signs of someone playing hard to get.” he says proudly, and you snort.
“I’m not playing hard to get, Haechan. You’re playing hard to get rid of.”
“And I’m gonna play until I win. Now—your number, please.” He smiles dazzlingly at you, pulling out his phone from his back pocket and handing it to you.
You stare at his unlocked phone then at his twinkling, hopeful eyes before sighing in defeat and taking the phone from his hand to enter your number.
“Hell yeah!” Haechan cheers, and you shoot him a judgmental stare.
“Ground rules.” you say plainly, and he nods, instantly attentive. He is cute, you think reluctantly, especially like this as he hangs on your every word like a puppy. “No texting me suggestive photos.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Keep the texts harmless.” you warn him, and he nods in agreement.
“You got it.”
“And don’t call or FaceTime unless it’s an absolute emergency.” you finish, and he scrunches his face up in confusion.
“What if the emergency is that I want to see you or hear your voice?”
“Absolutely bonkers thing to say with a girlfriend, by the way.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I have Instagram… just look at my pictures or something, I don’t know.”
“What if I want to see you right then exactly how you are?”
“That’s too bad.”
“Fine,” he huffs, and you already know this is going to be a bad decision. “What exactly constitutes an emergency?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. If you were injured or in danger or something and no one else was picking up?”
“Okay…” he trails off skeptically.
“Even then, though, I think you should just call emergency services.”
“You’re brutal,” Haechan remarks in awe. “I like it.”
“Watch it!”
“Watching,” he replies smoothly, grinning in your direction, and you turn to face forward quickly, hoping he didn’t catch your smile. “I saw that.”
“You saw nothing.”
“You smiled. You like me—at least a little bit!”
“First you’re hearing things, and now you’re seeing things? Maybe we should get you checked out.”
“…We?” he points out with a sly smirk, and you roll your eyes as you trudge ahead and up to the apartment building, repeatedly (and with an air of impatience) buzzing the intercom to be let in.
“Thank God we’re back.”
“Since when was the museum so damn expensive?” Chenle mutters in awe as he forks over the thirty dollars for the admission fee.
“It’s the price of knowledge,” Yunjin sighs with a shrug as she takes Chenle’s place at the ticket till and hands the attendant three $10 bills.
“Psst,” Haechan whispers to get your attention, and you turn your head slightly to see he’s leaning towards you. “This is enough to radicalize me,” Haechan huffs bitterly before releasing Winter’s hand and stepping forward to pay. You notice with a curious tilt of your head that he’s taken longer than the rest of your friends so far, despite using Apple Pay, but you don’t think much of it until he’s walked away with Winter and it’s your turn at the register, where the attendant hands you a ticket with a smile.
“Oh, I didn’t pay yet—”
“The gentleman before you paid for your ticket,” she explains with a small nod, and you pause, mentally buffering before smiling at the attendant, taking the ticket, and walking to join your group.
When you meet up with them, Haechan already has his eyes trained in your direction, his left eyelid dropping down into a secretive wink before he grins at you.
“You’re too much,” you mouth at him, walking up beside him to nudge him with your shoulder surreptitiously. He lets out a small chuckle and shrugs as casually as he can before he tickles the palm of your hand with his fingers in a gesture that has you wondering if he plans to hold both your hand and his girlfriend’s. Before the thought can gain much traction, however, the tour guide for your group appears and introduces herself as she passes out museum maps to everyone in your party.
After introducing herself, she takes you through a corridor to the Egyptian art section, walking you by a preserved tomb and detailing funeral processions and Egyptian customs. The guide herself is very engaging and the artwork is fascinating, but you actually came on a mission to see certain wings of the museum. As she walks you through the Egyptian art wing, you consult your map, trying to see if there’s a point coming up where you can casually separate from the group.
Initially, you were following after the tour guide, but now you’re admittedly starting to fall towards the back of the group due to your lack of interest in this particular time period, when the exhibit at the end of the hallway you just passed catches your eye.
You look around you to see if anyone in your tour group is around, observing that the coast is clear before you attempt to break off from your group and do your own thing.
“And where are you sneaking off to?” Haechan’s voice appears out of seemingly nowhere, making you gasp as you whip your head around to look at him.
“Why?” you ask, furrowing your brows. “Are you gonna snitch on me for leaving?”
“I’m not snitching,” he promises you, and you relax slightly before he continues with, “I’m coming.”
You stop short and look at him like he’s grown a second head. “You seem to be mistaken.”
“Definitely not that,” Haechan assures you, and you roll your eyes before quickly turning to leave. He catches up with you easily, making you huff quietly in frustration, and continues to attempt to persuade you, saying, “You need someone with you in case you get lost.”
“Haechan, if I’m with someone and I’m lost, then I’m pretty sure they’re as good as lost too.” you explain slowly, and Haechan pauses to think, leaving you the open opportunity to slip away from him yet again.
He manages to find you yet again, grinning triumphantly when he does, and argues, “I think you should travel with someone—like me—who has a map.”
“Haechan, I am quite literally holding the map they just gave me.” you remind him, and he seems to buffer in real-time, lips parting to form a shocked little “O” shape that is, for all its silliness, stupidly attractive on him.
You’ll give it to him; he’s definitely not lacking in the looks department.
“Well—haven’t you ever heard of the buddy system? There’s safety in numbers, y’know.” Haechan catches up with you once more as you speed walk down a mostly empty hallway.
“Oh, my God, fine.” you whisper-yell exasperatedly. “Fine, you can come with me.”
He perks up immediately, smiling brightly and you can see his body relax as you gradually slow your pace into a comfortable stroll so he can fall into stride with you.
“Great,” he says happily. “Where are we going first?”
“Well, I really want to see the Greek sculptures…” you half-say, half-suggest hopefully.
“Okay, sounds great; let’s go!”
“Haechan.”
“Mhm?”
“Can you walk faster, please? I’m not trying to lose a whole person in the Met.” you complain, stopping in your tracks and turning around to let Haechan catch up to you. The section you’re passing through is packed, the room filled with the din of various animated conversations all overlapping one another.
“Sorry, I’m just taking in all the art in front of me,” he replies, and your expression softens as you remember that this is, in fact, a museum exhibit you’re standing in and not merely a hallway to where you want to go.
“Yeah, the paintings are beautiful,” you agree, and he looks over at you with a confused look.
“Oh—yeah, the paintings are cool, too.” he answers unconvincingly, and you stare at him expressionlessly.
“What were you looking at if not the paintings?” you ask, confused, and he looks you up and down pointedly as if to answer your question. “You’re ridiculous,” you groan, turning to walk away.
“Oh, come on, you can’t blame me! You in that outfit is a goddamn masterpiece.” he defends himself, and you just sigh loudly as you keep walking.
“Keep up!” you quip, and he catches up to you, leaning down slightly so his lips are by your ear.
“Don’t even get me started on this cute little skirt you’ve got on,” he murmurs suggestively, and an involuntary shudder travels down your spine from the ticklish sensation of his breath on the hair on the back of your neck. “Kinda driving me crazy,” he half-mumbles, half-chuckles.
“It can’t be that hard to drive you crazy,” you point out. “You already live on the corner of Bonkers Boulevard and Delulu Drive.”
“Wow, and you call me a menace?” he snorts in amusement, reaching over to pinch your side in retaliation and laughing when you dance away with a giggle. “Come back, I thought we had to stick together,” he complains.
You roll your eyes but stop just ahead of him, hands placed on your hips as you wait for him to catch up.
“That’s better,” he finally says when he’s beside you once more. “You know, maybe we should hold hands.” he suggests, smiling wider and nodding vigorously in an attempt to convince you when you look over at him with a “no” already on the tip of your tongue.
“And why would we do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in a patronizing act of confusion.
“It’s crowded. What if someone walks between us and you turn to enter an exhibit but I don’t see where you went?” He frowns petulantly, and you scoff dismissively.
“You can hold my purse,” you offer, holding it out to him.
“How is that gonna help me stay close to you?” he asks with a frown, and you shoot him a look.
“It’ll help me stay close to you,” you clarify. “All my stuff is in there, so I’m not going anywhere that bag’s not going.”
“Hm. I’d rather hold your hand but I guess this will do.” he sighs dramatically, and you snicker.
“Keep wishing.” you reply casually.
“Oh, I will. Got any loose eyelashes I can wish on and blow away?”
“No.”
“Lucky pennies?”
“I don’t have change. Does the universe take Apple Pay?” you reply in a bored tone, and he snorts loudly in amusement.
“Man, gorgeous and funny,” he sighs contentedly, and it’s your turn to exhale in amusement. “Fine. I’ll wait until 11:11 to make the wish.”
“You know that because you told me what you’re gonna wish for, it’s not gonna come true now, right?” you remind him with a teasing smile, and his eyes widen comically.
“I’ll wish for something different.” he relents, and you can’t help but frown slightly at the crestfallen look on his face. You look around to see if anyone you know is nearby and, seeing no one, let out a defeated yet amused sigh before reaching out and linking your fingers with his. “I knew you liked me,” he remarks with an air of smug satisfaction, and you scowl at him before ripping your fingers from his.
“...And you’re done.”
“Nope, too late,” he replies with a wide grin as he links his fingers with yours again, either oblivious to the fight you’re putting up or simply unfazed. “We’re locked in now.” he teases, and you raise your brows in a silent challenge.
“Oh, yeah? Should I call you something cutesy like—oh,” you say, stopping mid-sentence and turning to look at him with a slowly growing mischievous smile. “What was that name Winter called you on the way here?”
“Oh, please don’t.”
“Was it Snookums?” you think aloud, and he groans, tossing his head back dramatically.
“Please?”
“Cuddlebug?”
“No—”
“Oh!” you exclaim, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. “Pookie Bear.” you say triumphantly, and the grimace on his face is beyond rewarding.
“You don’t have to call me that,” Haechan says hurriedly. “In fact, I’d rather you not—”
“But I love calling you Pookie Bear, Pookie Bear.” you coo affectionately, putting extra emphasis on the embarrassing pet name to leave it dripping with saccharine sweetness.
“You know what’s kind of crazy?” he asks, and you shake your head.
“Besides you? No.”
“Ha, ha.” he drawls. “What’s crazy is that it’s kinda hot the way you say it.” he points out, and you whine loudly in protest.
“I can’t have anything, man! I get to torment you back for less than two minutes, and your freaky little self likes it?” you gripe under your breath as you pull him towards the large sign indicating the doorway to the beginning of the Greek sculptures exhibit. “We’re here!” you announce happily.
“Anything I should know before we enter this section?” he asks curiously, and you think for a moment before nodding.
“Most, if not all, of these statues have micropenises.” you warn him, and roll your eyes instantly at the immediate amusement on his face. “Keep the dick jokes to a minimum.”
“You got it, princess.” he agrees, nodding cooperatively, and you whirl around to look at him.
“Princess?!”
“You call me Pookie Bear, I call you princess.” he says with a nonchalant shrug, and you narrow your eyes at him in a silent staredown. “It’ll grow on you,” he says confidently as he starts walking into the exhibit.
And as you’re tugged along after him, protesting all the while that “it most certainly will not,” you can’t help but feel like it already has—that is, if the sensation you’re feeling of a lone butterfly fluttering around your stomach has anything to do with it.
“Haechan,” you whisper urgently, shaking your linked hands to get his attention.
He looks over at you curiously, eyebrows raised expectantly, and you point towards a sign in the corridor. “What is it?” he asks. “The café?”
You nod. “I’m hungry.”
“Honestly, I could eat,” he agrees, and you beam up at him, tugging him towards the entrance to the café.
The café is lovely, with a fairly large selection of ready-to-eat foods, and you and Haechan walk around the tables of food before you spot one in the distance and slip your hand out of his to go check it out.
No less than a moment after you’ve let go of Haechan, he practically snatches your hand back up, stubbornly linking his fingers with yours once more.
When you shoot him a look, he just stares at you with a challenge in his eyes, daring you to let go again.
“You’re something else.” you laugh, and he shrugs.
“Give a guy a warning next time,” he replies. “I wasn’t ready to let go.”
“Warning: I’m about to let go,” you say patronizingly, and he just shakes his head. “Wh—no? What do you mean, no?”
”No, you’re not.” he says simply.
“I literally am,” you let out a laugh of disbelief before attempting to tug your fingers from his again. “Haechan, quit being a brat!”
“It’s in my DNA,” he replies with a dismissive shrug. “I like holding hands.”
“Hold your own hand, then.” you snicker, and he shakes his head decisively.
“Like holding your hand better.” he coos fondly, and you roll your eyes. “Just take me with you to check out the food, princess.”
“I’m ignoring that,” you huff, but lead him to the sushi rolls you were staring at nonetheless. “Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he confirms as he smiles over at you, and you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that threatens to greet him. “What are you gonna get?”
“Nothing crazy,” you muse, picking up a tray and inspecting the rolls inside. “Maybe just this and a drink.”
“Which one’s that?” Haechan asks curiously, peering over your shoulder.
“California roll,” you answer with a smile before reaching into the refrigerated drink section and grabbing an organic peach soda.
Haechan follows your lead, picking up a sushi roll container and snagging a Dr. Pepper from the drink area before you two make your way to the cashier to pay.
The cashier greets you both with a friendly smile and rings you up first. When you’re about to pay, Haechan grips the back of your cardigan and firmly but gently pulls you away from the counter before tapping his phone to the payment screen.
“You didn’t need to do that,” you huff with a frown, and he just smiles as the receipt comes out.
“I’m a gentleman,” he replies simply as the cashier rings him up, and you snort in amusement.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you ask dryly, and he narrows his eyes at you. When it’s his turn to pay, you inch closer to the payment screen in the hopes to return the favor, but Haechan is one step ahead of you, plucking your phone from your hand with ease and pocketing it before tapping his phone to the screen again.
“Yeah, it is,” he replies with a cheery grin, smugness laced in his voice. “Come on, let’s eat.”
You two thank the cashier before heading towards the back of the café, where you sit at the corner table, Haechan sliding in beside you.
“You couldn’t sit over there?” you ask flatly, gesturing to the empty spot in front of you, and he shakes his head with a teasing smile. “Of course not.” you sigh in defeat, instead opening your California roll tray and breaking the wooden chopsticks to start eating. “What’d you get?”
Haechan pauses to look at the label on his container before opening it. “Seaside salmon roll,” he replies, snapping his chopsticks neatly into two before picking up a piece of sushi from the carefully composed roll.
“Ooh, yum,” you say before placing a piece of your own roll into your mouth and chewing, your eyes sliding shut in bliss. “God, that’s good.”
“This sushi tastes like heaven,” Haechan groans happily, and you giggle, your mood lifting with some good food entering your system.
“Hey,” you say as you pick up your next piece, “I just realized; what if they want to get food after this?” you ask, and he shrugs.
“Either we’re not hungry, or we get something small.” he suggests, and you nod in agreement before eating the next piece of sushi.
“Are you gonna be sneaky and pay for that, too?” you ask, unamused, and he nods proudly. “I can pay for my own food, you know; my librarian job makes decent pay.”
“Yeah, well, I can pay, too. My job definitely pays decently.” Haechan replies stubbornly.
“Oh, yeah? And what do you do?” you question.
“I’m a wine sommelier for a high-end restaurant downtown.” he answers proudly, and you purse your lips in quiet defeat.
“That actually does sound like a decent-paying job.” you admit, and he nods confidently. “Well, hey, did you know they sell wine here?”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, looking around for the wine menu and relaxing once you point it out to him.
“Yep. So tell me, Mr. Sommelier, which wine would go best with my California roll?” you quiz him, and his lips quirk up into a smile.
“What’s the taste like?” he asks, and you pick up a piece and put it on his tray, signaling for him to try it. “Without tasting it, I’d say a nice… light, fruity wine would be good for this.” he suggests before placing the piece of sushi in his mouth. As he chews, his smile widens and he nods in confirmation, adding, “I’d definitely say a nice Pinot Grigio would go great with this. The sweet and light notes of the Pinot Grigio would go really well with the flavors here.”
You’re not going to lie to yourself; it’s a little attractive to see him talk about something he knows so much about.
“Yeah?” you hum. “What about yours?”
“Oh, Pinot Noir, for sure. It’s sharp enough to match the heaviness of the salmon, but not too sweet where it takes away from the overall flavor.”
You nod, taking in the information and secretly composing yourself as your insides squeal girlishly at his confident explanation.
“That’s pretty cool, Haechan,” you remark, impressed, and he smiles in satisfaction.
“Isn’t it? You know, we should go on a wine tasting date some time.” he suggests, and you shoot him a suspicious side glance.
“A wine tasting what?” you press.
“Did I say date?” Haechan asks with a chuckle, and you nod slowly, still regarding him carefully. “I meant outing. A wine tasting outing.”
“Nice save,” you snort, and he huffs petulantly.
“It’s not my fault,” he defends himself. ‘I was distracted.”
You raise an eyebrow skeptically. “Distracted?” you ask, and he nods firmly.
“Yeah, your little skirt is messing with my head.” Haechan grunts, and you look down at your lap with a bewildered questioning noise.
To be fair, it is a cute skirt; your beige and black plaid pleated skirt was carefully selected from your closet earlier and clearly must have been a flattering choice, given that Haechan literally can’t keep his eyes off of you.
“Then look up and not at my legs, silly.”
“But if I look up, I see—” he starts to complain but stops as he does just that, looking up from his—well, your—lap and trailing off slowly as he gazes at you.
You’re pretty sure you don’t need to hear what he was going to say, because his face reads loud and clear; there’s desire swimming clearly in his gaze and his lips are parted ever so slightly as he spaces out staring back and forth from your lips to your eyes.
“If you look up, you see… my face?” you supply in an attempt to help him regain his sensibility, and his lips part more as he struggles to find the right words. “I mean, yeah, and my shirt? Well, it’s a white tank—like, yeah, it’s a little short, but—and this is just a beige cardigan, so it’s not as distracting if you look up instead—”
“If I look up,” Haechan says carefully, “I see you.”
For a moment, you’re rendered speechless as the implications of his words sink in.
Looking at him again, you realize there’s an awe in his eyes as he watches you, an adoration almost, and the context of him seeing you sets in. His eyes rove over your face with an almost greed, darting around rapidly as he frantically takes in every detail he can manage to commit to memory.
He’s not looking at you like he’s undressing you, like he’s groping you with a glance; he’s looking at you like you’re one of the seven wonders of the world—like he can’t quite contemplate everything he’s seeing, but he’s damn sure going to try. His gaze caresses you like you’re an antique artifact at the museum that could break if you so much as stare at it too hard.
Observing the way he looks at you is the closest you’ve come yet to understanding how and why the eyes have been referred to as the windows to the soul. His gaze is so open, so vulnerable and wondrous that you have to ponder, for a moment, if this is what it looks like to fall in love.
You push the thought from your head as soon as it emerges, not willing to give it any space in your mind, but you can’t shake the way his gaze completely unravels you.
He watches you like he can see every complexity of your personality in your pores; like he can see your unspoken words reflected in the gloss on your lips—like your eyes hold the manuscript of your hopes and dreams and he’s about to pore over it, memorizing it down to the letter.
He looks at you like he’s dangerously close to seeing you; you, past your barriers and caution tape; you, with all your intricacies and contradictions; and you, with all the hope and yearning and vulnerability you’ve had since your youth that you’ve been trying to convince everyone is no longer around.
You’re utterly overwhelmed with all the thoughts swimming in your brain at the moment, and one thought swims up to the forefront, displaying itself loud and clear and unignorable.
He looks at you like he’s falling in love.
“Haechan, please stop looking at me like that,” you beg in a whisper, scared to speak any louder in case your voice trembles. Something about the intensity of his gaze is beautiful and terrifying all at once, and you’re not ready for him to see you unraveled like this.
Haechan must be able to sense the panic in your voice, your underlying fear of being truly seen and known undoubtedly ringing out in the silence between you two, because he smiles reassuringly and relents, softening the intensity of his gaze until he’s displaying nothing more than mild curiosity and fascination.
“Thanks.” you mutter shyly, averting your gaze to inspect your cuticles in a feeble attempt to act natural.
“No problem. Can I say something, though?” he asks, and you nod, internally bracing yourself. “Have you heard of twin flames?”
“Yeah, isn’t that like soulmates, kinda?” you reply.
something about him was made for somebody like me baby, come over, come over and god knows i’m trying, but there’s just no use in denying
“Kinda,” he says slowly. “Some people call them ‘mirror souls,’” he explains. “Essentially, they’re two people with an intense soul connection that makes them complete when they’re together.”
You pout thoughtfully. “Like two halves of a whole?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he agrees. “The term ‘mirror souls’ is a bit more fitting, because they complement each other; they’re opposites in crucial ways, but in ways that could either ruin things or make them work really well together.”
”Okay,” you say carefully. “Well, thanks for the mini lesson. Why’d you bring that up?”
“I feel drawn to you.” he explains in a rush, almost like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to say it. “Like, I can’t explain it, but when I first met you, I felt—I don’t know—something.”
“I’d wager that the something you felt was just the blood rushing down to your d—” you remark dryly, but he cuts you off, shaking his head.
“It wasn’t.” he insists. “I felt a connection. And you felt it too—remember?”
“No,” you lie. You remember all too well, actually.
“You flirted with me.” he reminds you with a triumphant grin, and you frown.
“That was before I found out you were dating my friend!”
“So the connection magically went away? Hm? The initial attraction you had to me just vanished into thin air?” he presses.
“I locked it in a closet.” you admit. “It can’t come out.”
“Well, unlock it.”
“I have swallowed the key.” you reply stubbornly.
“Well, I’m picking the lock.” he counters, and you gape at him indignantly.
“You can’t do that!”
“And why not?”
“You have a girlfriend.” you remind him, and he has the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes, making you gasp in horror. “Ooh, I’m telling.”
“Who cares about that?” he asks, waving a hand dismissively.
“Um, gee, I would wager that your girlfriend does.” you reply sarcastically. “And you should care, too.”
“All that yapping—”
“I know this boy did not just say I’m yapping—”
“—and you still didn’t say that you care.” he finishes, and you stop short, blinking at him in surprise. “Gotcha.”
“Oh, shut up,” you groan. “I’m not your girlfriend, you know—I don’t have to put up with this.”
“Do you want to be her?” he asks, and you freeze, staring at him incredulously.
“No? I barely know you, and from what I do know, you like stepping out on your girlfriend.”
“False. I don’t like to step out on my girlfriend,” he corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “I just like you.”
“Stop saying that.” you warn.
“I mean it.” he says simply.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble if you keep talking like that.” you reply nervously.
“The risk is so worth it though, don’t you think?” he murmurs conspiratorially, and you stare at him blankly.
”No.” you reply flatly, entirely unamused.
Haechan pouts—somehow handsomely—and nudges you with his shoulder, saying, “Come on… try living a little.”
“No.”
”You know you want to.” he coaxes, and you grumble unintelligibly under your breath.
”What I want is for you to drop the subject,” you say, batting your lashes at him for the effect. “Pretty please?”
His gaze darkens slightly. “Beg again.”
“I didn’t beg!” you splutter, both indignant and flustered by the shift in the air. “I requested politely.”
“Well, request politely again. You’re really cute when you do that, you know.”
”And on that note, this conversation is over. Now,” you say slowly, patting your lap and nudging him with your shoulder. “I think we should probably get back. Y’know… before they notice we went missing.”
“I guess you’re right,” Haechan agrees with a reluctant sigh, gathering your and his food containers and standing up. “Lead the way, princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” you whisper loudly, and he grins cheekily as you two make your way to exit the museum café.
“Stop liking it and I’ll stop doing it.” He retorts, stopping in front of you suddenly so you bump into him.
“Haechan!” you can’t help but laugh at his refreshingly playful nature, and he looks over at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of a brat?”
“Yes, actually.” he replies thoughtfully. “But it takes one to know one.”
You stop short and he turns back to look at you curiously. “Are you calling me a brat?”
“Yes,” he replies easily with a smile. “Yes, I am.” And before you can retaliate, he’s speed walking towards the garbage to throw out your waste, stopping just in front of the exit to wait for you. When you get closer, still staring at him with narrowed eyes, he shoots you a dazzling smile and opens the door, holding it for you.
”Ladies first.”
“Oh, now you’re a gentleman.”
“What do you mean, ‘now?’” Haechan replies, shocked. “I let you sit first, I held the door for you, I threw out your garbage for you and paid—”
“Which you definitely shouldn’t have done, by the way.” you interject, and he stares blankly at you. “Don’t get me wrong, my wallet and I appreciate you greatly, but I was more than capable of paying for myself.”
“It’s okay,” he muses lightheartedly, shrugging. “You can just make it up to me sometime.”
You pause, staring at him suspiciously. “And how would I do that?”
“I’ll come up with something,” he replies with a small secretive smile.
“I don’t like the sound of that.” you say slowly, and he laughs, throwing his arm around your shoulders goodnaturedly.
“It won’t be anything drastic,” he assures you. “Just something like… a kiss.”
“A kiss?” you splutter, and he grins, nodding. “You’d better be joking.”
He turns his head towards you, tightening his grip around your neck not enough to be overbearing but just enough to prevent you from turning your face away. “And what if I’m not?” His voice softens as he continues, “Hm?”
A long silence passes between you two—far longer than socially acceptable—during which Haechan stares pointedly at your mouth and you attempt to avoid doing the same. After what feels like ages, you break the tension-laden quiet by clearing your throat and walking forward and out of his embrace.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” you say over your shoulder, and Haechan chuckles as he catches up to you.
“I do.” he replies simply, and you snort. He leans over, bringing his lips to your ear, and murmurs, “And I think you like it.”
TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the second part will be up in exactly two weeks! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!
ORRRRRR you could sub to my patreon, where the whole fic is already posted in full!! (
LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)
#haechan smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#lee haechan smut#donghyuck smut#lee donghyuck smut#will be making a masterlist !!!!!!!! and tagging ppl in the reblog!!#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader
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New Tricks
Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 9.5k
Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead
What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular.
Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.
Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky
Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne
Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗
These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️
New Tricks Masterlist
I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹
Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door.
“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time, when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.
Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck.
The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again.
Excellent, you inwardly sigh.
“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level. “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.”
Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck. Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows.
Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”
His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?”
No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind.
“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.”
The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes.
“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.”
You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation.
Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic.
“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?”
Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–”
You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.
Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”
Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning.
“What the shit–“
The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?”
In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!”
Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.”
The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”
“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”
“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.
The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all.
And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?”
Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids.
“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”
Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed.
“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.”
It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone.
You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?”
You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“
“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over.
Had he been listening that whole time?
Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky may have made was a burden you did not want to bear, and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”
Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.”
The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”
“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”
His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.
With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.
“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”
The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”
Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump.
You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose. “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”
With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off.
Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips.
Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door.
With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”
Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.
Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”
He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”
You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.
“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?”
The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”
You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.”
Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf.
The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?”
“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”
You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”
“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom.
Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”
“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you.
A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.
The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence.
Though, it is short lived.
Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand.
A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works.
“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off.
You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before…
“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”
A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious.
His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you.
“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”
The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats.
Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?”
You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”
The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet.
Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.
“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”
“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.
Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company.
This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence.
Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone.
“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content.
“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”
“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets.
“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.
The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.
“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.
Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.
That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself.
“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?”
You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV.
“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.”
The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.”
Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.”
Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”
“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.”
You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”
Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it.
Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”
Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”
“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!”
He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?”
“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.
“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”
His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”
Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night.
There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus.
Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”
Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing.
“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”
“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”
“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”
A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”
“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.”
Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”
His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face.
Okay, you think privately, so what?
Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt.
If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”
“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”
Now that catches you off guard.
Bucky… is a virgin?
Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match.
Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression.
“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”
No other words come to mind.
When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts.
You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully.
The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him.
Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession.
It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands, and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty.
From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer.
Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past. And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket.
What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?
To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs.
Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees.
“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.
The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical.
You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”
“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”
Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.”
“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting.
You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”
He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“
“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”
“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.
“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”
You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.
“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”
“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through.
Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek.
This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance.
You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.
He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”
“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap.
That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth.
There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves.
Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face.
“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.
There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek.
“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.
Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”
The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes.
Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.
“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session.
Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.
“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.
You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.
“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension.
A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time.
Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.
The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close.
But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard.
The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly.
Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before.
You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another.
It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you.
And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–”
To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.
Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries.
You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.
The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss.
You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move.
Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous.
It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”
Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”
Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”
Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.
“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.”
You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin.
The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet.
The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.
Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.
“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”
“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”
You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”
The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn.
“Wha– Fuck!”
You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it.
The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.
Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release.
You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle.
Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.
Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck.
You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently.
“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”
Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him.
You can’t have that, though.
Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”
Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go.
It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in.
You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?”
Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.”
“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.
You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.”
The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”
Something snaps within him.
The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure.
To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”
“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”
A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop.
“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”
“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!”
“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed.
“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”
The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.
“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”
You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat.
The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”
Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness.
After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”
“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material.
Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”
“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.
The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”
Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”
“But–” Bucky tries.
“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”
His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”
“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”
The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces.
It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”
You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands.
And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair.
You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.
“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.”
You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only–
“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala.
“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”
But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”
“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?”
That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes.
You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”
Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away.
With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”
The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky.
“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”
“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”
You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”
The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall. “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”
A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive.
“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.”
That meant only one person was responsible.
Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.
Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night.
I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake.
Love ya squirt,
Your big bro.
“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.
P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x
Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again.
“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”
Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain.
Part Two, Part Three
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