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babeyun · 6 days ago

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losing the war 🥀 p.js [m]

synopsis: even when the world seems bleak, he can't help but try and prove that love still exists. the love you yearn for exists, because he is full of it - and so are you. genre: regency au ; "forbidden" love au ; angst, fluff, smut. pairing: royal guard!park jongseong x princess!reader word count: 15k (and i'm not sorry about it!!) rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: mentions of: death (non-descriptive), blood/injuries, war, illnesses. swearing, mentions of food/eating. mentions of trauma/grieving. reader and jay are so in love it's disgusting LOL. smut warnings: mentions of pregnancy, making out, brief grinding. virginity loss (both). oral (f.rec), fingering (f.rec), slight nipple play, brief handjob. biting, hair pulling, slight body worship (f.rec), unprotected sex in missionary because i said so, creampie (because they're stupid.) petnames (baby, my heart/love, etc.) what to listen to: yours - conan gray ; always - bon jovi ; salut d'amour - edward elgar ; heaven's cloud - seventeen ; step to my girl - souls of mischief ; do i wanna know - hozier. author's note: [misc dividers] by @/saradika here on tumblr! well, we're back with the 6th installment of enhypen birthday fics! granted, this one is by far the longest and the latest, as it is now officially two days after jay's birthday :( i'm sorry! it normally wouldn't take me this long, but things happened and also it was easter sunday so...it's fine! as always...happiest birthday to my jaybie. i love u!

PARK JONGSEONG HAD ALWAYS BEEN RESPONSIBLE.

Poised, smart, calculated. Direct with his words, never saying more than necessary to get his point across. He operated quietly and discreetly, mostly in the shadows so as to keep you safe.

Your mother ran the Decelis Kingdom like the Navy. Everything and everyone had a place, and she expected them all to be there when she strolled the halls at night. Never once did she walk past your room and not see him posted outside the door, alert and ready to protect the princess at all costs.

He doesn't care that you're a princess, or the princess, really. To him, it's supposed to be a job. A person to protect, to feed, to take care of until you're moving onto the next big thing.

What is the next big thing for you?

Neither of you really know. It's like a winding rollercoaster ride, and your fate is the cruel operator that never lets either of you get off.

He's never at rest when he's with you. He sleeps when he can, but never lets his fatigue show in front of your mother and his fellow guards. He never lets his shoulders sag, he never lets his eyes get low as he follows behind you to wherever you're going.

He finds it hard to remind himself that it's just a job when you softly christen him with the petname my heart.

He finds it hard to remind himself that it's just a job when you pull him into the library, and sit on the thickly carpeted floor. You always make him sit with his back to the wall, your dress brushing his thighs as your hands splayed gingerly across worn leather books and yellowed pages. He finds it hard to remind himself it's just a job, when you whisper that he can sleep, and you'll wake him if you hear your mother. He finds it hard to remind himself that you're just part of his job when he wakes up to your warm hand gently patting his cheek, finding he's fallen asleep and resting his head on your shoulder. You always smile warmly as he opens his eyes tiredly, your laugh is soft as you ask him if he's feeling well rested.

The answer is always no, but he never says it.

You're the kindest person he's ever had the pleasure of meeting. You're not soft spoken by any means – always assertive, always dominating the conversation when it comes to anything that has to do with your kingdom. You're flirty, even if you don't realize that your words mean more than meets the eye. You're generous, smart, beautiful…you're…everything.

You're everything to him.

And he knows better than to ever let that be a thought at the forefront of his mind, even when you give yourself to him so willingly. Even when your lips trace the slope of his neck, when your moans fill his ears and make him feel insane.

Even when you make him feel loved.

Amongst the positive attributes you have, you have a few bad habits in the eyes of your mother. The Queen has no problem with reprimanding you – her hand often carrying a wooden ruler that pats your chin gently when you speak out of turn, lightly tapping the small of your back if you're slouching. Just as the Queen is strict, she is gentle, she is fair.

The Queen was once bright. She wore the brightest, most colorful of dresses – pearlescent satins, shimmering tulles, beaded and sequined. She was the prettiest flower in the garden, the warmth of her smile being felt for miles throughout the kingdom. She was the sole collector of all the books in your library, the seamstress of all your dresses, the sole ruler because the kingdom was only ever truly hers – and soon, yours.

Of course, all good things come to an end.

He grew up just outside of the kingdom, his family settled in a soft cottage in the thriving forest surrounding the castle. During his younger years, he awoke every morning to the sound of horses trotting past, the sound of your mother's skilled hunters chasing after deers and elk. He and his father would often go foraging, bringing home their own catches – rabbits, salmon speared at the flowing river. Every once in a while, they managed to pelt the unsuspecting deer, his heart always sinking in his chest as he watched their eyes lose their light.

He became a skilled hunter despite the sinking feeling, and easily manuevered his way through the forest on foot. His father made a bow and arrow set for him on his fifteenth birthday, and it'd been put to use for many years since – birds, squirrels, even the occasional frog.

His mother was an apothecary that managed a small shop and garden out of the back of their cottage. She sold the wild berries and any herbs Jay and his father managed to forage, and that was how he met your parents. Your father was incredibly ill, draped across a mighty steed that your mother steered to the best of her ability in her state of distress.

As it turned out, your mother had grown up with his – and trusted no one more than her to help your father. They stayed in his cottage, in his bedroom, for three days and three nights.

After he recovered, your mother tried to pay a hefty sum of gold. His parents adamantly refused, and through the door of his bedroom he heard his mother ask that the Queen take care of him, should he ever need something. A job, education, something.

And your father agreed, without hesitation.

But there was still a heavy sack of gold sitting in the corner of his home when he woke up the next morning.

When he thinks about it, the King was an insane visual compared to your mother. He dressed in nothing but black, his shoulders covered by a thick bear's pelt and feet clad in heavy boots. His knuckles were almost always smeared with dirt and blood, and his voice was gruff and intimidating to the unfamiliar. He was scary to most of the townspeople with his dark eyes and solemn face, and they cowered in his presence – but he never, ever scared him.

Your father admired that.

The King became a frequent visitor at the shop Jay's mother ran. He bought berries almost exclusively, and usually the entire stockpile. Jay remembers his life being slightly easier during those times – and he felt it in the way his parents wouldn't hesitate to buy any book he picked up during their visits to the market on the weekends. He felt it most when he'd have warm soups to eat during the winter when berries and herbs were scarce.

However, the King once arrived on foot, guiding his horse by the lead and talking gently. Usually he'd be atop his horse, but instead – you were sat upon it. You wore a simple, champagne dress with ivory bows along the belled sleeves, and your hair was worn pinned back. You were smiling brightly, your eyes wide as you took in the greens of the forest and the spots of the sunlight on the forest floor, the chirps of the birds gathered in trees high above.

Your eyes landed on him, covered in dirt and carrying a deer on his back. He remembers the way his heart lurched – and he nearly fell under the weight of the cervid. And he remembers the laugh that slipped from your mouth as your father stopped in front of the shop. It was so beautiful, hidden behind your hand and so melodic.

"Jongseong! Good to see you, son. Is your mother in?"

He couldn't reply then, watching the way your lips shaped around your silent repetition of his name. He remembers blinking, clearing his throat.

"Your Majesty. My mother is at the market this weekend, I've been left to tend the shop. Is there something I can get for you?" He'd dropped the deer on the workbench with a grunt before turning around to tend to your father, only hearing your voice as you pulled at your father's pelt.

"He's cute."

He felt his cheeks grow hot, his eyes darting away as he stood behind the display of berries and pretended he didn't hear you. He remembers the way your father rolled his eyes, a smile gracing his features. He'd never seen your father smile.

"Go on, pick your poison." He'd helped you off the horse, your hands folding behind your back as you approached the display. Jay couldn't help but follow the glow of your dress in the spotty sunlight, before your father cleared his throat behind you.

"It's her birthday." He said warmly, and Jay remembers the way you rolled your eyes as you picked a blackberry from the display, rolling it between your fingers.

"It's not that special. He always makes it a big deal." Your gaze was playful, but your words were serious. "It's really just another day."

"Isn't every day we rise with the sun worth celebrating?"

You stopped then, your teeth sinking into the delicate flesh of the berry in your hand as you glanced up at him. Your father laughed heartily behind you, before you tilted your head.

"Will you be coming to the feast tonight? My father has invited the whole of the kingdom."

Your eyes were expectant, and he shifted slightly under your gaze. Your father had the same eyes, albeit darker.

"I can't make it, Your Highness. I've got prior committments." He had jerked his thumb in the direction of the deer, making you nod. "That's a shame…I'll take these, then." You sounded disappointed then, as you picked up the large crate of blackberries. Your father swept to your aid, grabbing the wooden crate quickly and firmly attaching it to the side of the horse's saddle. You smiled softly, "How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, don't worry about it. Have a safe trip back, have a nice birthday." He shook his head, giving you both a curt bow before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shop. He heard the horse trot off moments later, murmurs shared from you and your father too muffled to digest.

However, even as nightfall came and went – he couldn't get you out of his mind. The gentle slope of your neck, the shimmer of thin beeswax on your lips. A small, gold locket resting on your chest over your dress, with the crest of the kingdom engraved into it.

The softness of your eyes. You returned the next day, this time, only accompanied by your horse. You donned a dark green dress with gold flecks across the fabric, your hair in disarray around your face as you slowed to a stop in front of the shop. He was drenched in sweat, the midday heat exhausting as he lugged firewood towards the cottage. His mother had just arrived for lunch, wrapping an apron around her waist as you rung the bell in the window.

"Princess! What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

His back tensed as he packed the wood in the corner of the kitchen, only to hear his name slip from your lips.

"I've just brought something for…Jongseong." He still remembers his mother's face of surprise when she called for him, his cheeks flushed from the heat (or so he tried to convince himself) as he made his way over. "Yes?" "The princess is here for you, son."

She slipped away then, leaving you in his presence alone. He tilted his head, before realizing you had a box in your hand, wrapped in a soft green bow. You held it out to him, a smile gracing your lips.

"For you. I made it." He took it gingerly, "Thank you."

You only nodded, stepping away from the shop. "Enjoy."

He didn't explain anything to his parents as he slid the small box on the kitchen table, their eyes curious as he unwrapped it to the sound of your horse bolting in the distance. It was a tart – lemon curd with blackberry preserve swirled throughout in a shortbread crust. There was a note attached to the side of the box, but he shoved it in his pocket to read in the privacy of his room later that night.

My father seems to like you. He doesn't like anyone. Should I expect you at the suitors' ball this winter? – Y/N ♡

He didn't see you again after that, the seasons moving forth as if he'd never met you.

The suitors' ball would not happen, either.

He was soon awoken by royal knights banging his door down – on orders from the Queen to gather all able-bodied young men to fight in an ambush in the wooded mountains, brought forth by Fort Allingham claiming a broken alliance with the King. Despite his mother's protests, he went – wide eyed and scared, but he trusted himself. He trusted his knowledge of the woods and his skills as a hunter would get him through it.

They say even the mighty fall.

He felt dirty; covered in splatters of blood of men he'd never met. Men who had families, surely, and it haunted him. He wanted to close his eyes and end the nightmare of it all – fallen bodies, the crimson brew of life seeping through clothes and into patches of grass sprouting through the thick layers of snow atop the mountains, the feeling of the arrow's pile that speared through his shoulder. He wanted to hide, to cower, to unsee all he'd lived the moment he left the cottage. The worst of it all?

He was the one to find your father – bloodied and bruised at the base of the mountains, his sword tossed into the flowing river and his fingers nearly purple with frostbite. The remaining soldiers gathered with him, word spreading to those from Fort Allingham that the target had been hit. It made his stomach turn.

He tried what he could – the warmth of a fire, muddling medicinal herbs into a paste…but he slipped away by morning. He could only picture you and your mother's faces as he and the remaining soldiers walked for three days to return to the limits of the kingdom. He held nothing on his back but your father's pelt, the bloodied sword and his bow. He carried it like it held all the weight in the world to him, because he knew it would to you.

He remembers the crestfallen look on your mother's face as he and the soldiers hobbled into the throne room. They all knelt before her, the pain in his face evident as he tried to hold the bloodied sword over his head.

That was the last time he saw your mother wear something bright. A cream dress that glittered in the early winter sunlight, a singular tear stain on the skirt.

The soldiers had their injuries treated by town apothecaries and fed by the palace cooks while the townspeople were in mourning. The death of the King took a toll on them all – and a flourish of stories of his kindness spilled from every crevice of the kingdom. Your father was well loved and your mother proved it – a three-day feast was thrown in his honor, all of his favorite dishes displayed across the palace courtyard. Nights of loud music, drinking and dancing.

Nights that you spent away from it all, deep in the forest. Wading in the river, your hands blistered from climbing the rocks that lined the streams. Your face swollen from crying, your back covered in the thick pelt that once belonged to your father.

It was all you had left. Your mother asked him to work for the kingdom soon after. She practically begged, in fact – and Jay went home to think about it. He spent the rest of the winter there – coping with the loss, with the fear, with his pain. He took the time to relearn to use his bow with his injured shoulder, he shoveled snow from the pathway to the cottage. He spent his nights in the warmth of his room, reading and reading the books he'd collected, and sitting on the decision of whether or not to go forth to the palace.

Until the winter solstice brought the Queen barreling back to his cottage, seeking his mother and her medicine once more. This time, for you – your skin was sweltering even as you were stripped to nothing in a warm bath, your lips chapped from the dry winter air. His room was once more taken, with your mother glued to his windowsill and staring at the falling snow. The sound of your pained groans made his chest hurt as he pressed cool compresses to your face and neck through the night – waking up to your mother gone and a sore neck from sleeping in a cot.

You stayed for two days longer, his mother carefully and quietly tending to you. She fed you warm soups with lots of garlic and ginger, hot feverfew tea with honey and lemon, even drawing you hot baths to soak in. She had Jay rub analgesic oil into your scalp after your baths, and the repeated stroking would ease you to sleep.

It was on the third day that your mother returned, her hands gripping a dark blue dress in hopes you'd be feeling better. You were still stricken with fatigue, but you managed to make your way out of the cottage with a weakened thank you. Your mother once more asked Jay about coming to work for her at the palace as she helped you climb onto the horse, your cloak just thick enough that the winter air didn't make you shiver too much.

And, he agreed. Without hesitation, without much thought – he told your mother he'd report to the palace in one week.

Dinner with his parents was very quiet that night, with only a murmured apology from him as he cleared the table. His mother insisted he had to do what he felt was right, that his duty was to his heart.

But where has his heart led him? It's gotten him an injured shoulder. It's shown him death, up close and personal. It's shown him how deeply a person can mourn, how thoroughly the end of life can rip someone to shreds.

Nevertheless, he packed his clothes and his favorite books, and he went. He was stationed in the room next to yours, the constant warmth and hearty food a luxury he yearned for his parents to experience. He didn't check in with you, instead finding your mother in her study – in a long, black dress.

He then learned that you were his assignment.

"The loss of her father has left Y/N incredibly fragile." The Queen started, her pen gripped tightly in her trembling hand. "She's not the same, which was to be expected. She feels it's her fault."

The Queen went on to explain why – you'd told your parents that you weren't one with the idea of an arranged marriage.

Your father had been the first born son of the King of Fort Allingham – and it was only by chance that the Queen had fallen in love with him. They'd met at the suitors' ball many some years ago when it was your mother's turn to inherit the throne – and had become immediately enamored. It worked well in your grandparents' favor, as they had long been in bad standings with the opposing kingdom over unclaimed land.

The marriage between your parents meant a truce, that said unclaimed land would remain untouched.

Desrosiers, named aptly after the rose gardens that spread vast and wide across their land – was another kingdom just south of Decelis that also had ties to the same plot of unclaimed land. The truce there?

You'd marry their first born son. It'd been set in stone by your grandparents, and was something your parents had been looking for a way out of since before you'd even known about it.

However, the marriage between your parents was untraditional – the Decelis throne belonged to your mother, and as the only heir, there wasn't any way she'd give it up. Your father moving across kingdom lines raised some concerns, but at the end of the day – it was marriage, and it meant peace.

Your father's youngest brother became the King of Fort Allingham shortly after your father's departure. However, he was never fond of the fact that your father left. Something about betrayal, something about treason – but over all, your father had something that he wanted.

Your mother's love.

He, too, had been at the suitors' ball that winter so many years ago. He too, yearned to dance with your mother in the low light of the ballroom, to earn her affections, to be hers.

They say greed is the root of all evil – if he couldn't have your mother, no one could. He didn't care about the land, it was truly only a bonus.

It had been discovered a few weeks after your father's death that he, too, had been killed in the ambush. By none other than the first born son of Desrosiers – and with no heir to the throne of Fort Allingham, the Queen of Fort Allingham took over and cut ties with both kingdoms. The land was up for grabs, and your mother traveled to Desrosiers when you were sick to settle things.

The Prince of Desrosiers had no interest in marriage, and willingly gave up the idea of a truce with your kingdom if it meant he got the land. No devil in the details, no exceptions, no ifs, ands or buts.

"She told me that she feels that though she may have won the battle…" The Queen hesitated, clearing her throat as tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back, tonguing her cheek. "We've lost the war." Jay finished for her, and she nodded. "It's not her fault. She has to know that, deep down somewhere."

"I don't know anymore. I know it's a lot to ask, too. She needs to be waited on hand and foot, and I can't lose my composure. I have a kingdom to run." The Queen had gestured to the air around her, making him nod in understanding.

"All I ask is that you…nuture her. Keep her company, get her outside. Show her that love still exists, even if the world seems bleak. It's not her fault. It never will be."

"I will try my best, Your Majesty." And, that led him to this point. By your side, at all hours of the day.

It'd been two years since then, and you'd seemingly progressed – you drifted through the gardens, you settled on the carpet in the massive library. You visited his parents with him, and they treated you like their own. He taught you how to hunt and forage, and often caught you lingering at the end of the riverbend. Your feet in the water, your hands clutching your dress high so as to not get it wet. You closed your eyes, taking in the soft song of the birds flying through the trees and the chitter of the squirrels.

And he couldn't hear you cry yourself to sleep through the door anymore.

Instead, he was subjected to your soft looks and subtle comments. You'd sweep his hair out of his eyes, you'd adjust the hood of his cloak. You'd lean into him a little too deeply when he helped you fix your posture while shooting arrows. You'd bake him things, read him things, even ask him to sit outside with you deep in the night to stare at the stars. You'd point out the brightest one, and say it was your dad.

He hated the way his heart warmed up to you. You'd always been something interesting – from the very moment he met you that fated day at the shop. He wondered, still, if you would have chosen him if the suitors' ball had happened, and if your father would've given him his blessing.

He wonders if you feel the same things he does when he bids you goodnight – the yearn to kiss your lips softly, to lay next to you and hold you close. To breathe you in, become one with your soul and feel the fire of a million bursting suns.

He wondered then if you wanted him, too.

He wouldn't have to wonder for long.

"PRINCESS, IT'S LATE. YOU SHOULD BE SLEEPING."

Jay's voice was stern as you tugged him out of bed, still awake as the clock struck two in the morning. The moonlight was seeping through his open window, and you only pouted as you stomped your foot. He sighs, setting his book down on the nightstand to give you his full attention.

"First of all, I told you to stop calling me that. I'm Y/N to you. Or, baby." You climb onto the end of his bed with a wink, and Jay only groans, falling back against his pillow and grabbing the other to hold over his face. "Second of all, come on! I haven't seen you all day!" Jay gives another grunt into the pillow as you jump up and down the empty side of the bed, before throwing it back. "Because I went to go see my parents, and you didn't wanna come!"

You stop jumping, a sly smirk sliding onto your lips as he sits up abruptly.

"Don't you dare. Someone could hear you." He points a menacing finger at you, but you only laugh as you sink onto the soft bed. "Y/N." "Ooh, I like it when you say my name like that. So scary." You're teasing him, knowing it'll get him to do whatever it is you want without a fight as long as it means you'll get the hell out and shut the fuck up. Granted, he always wants to do what you ask of him, he just likes the little game of cat and mouse.

"What do you want? Quickly, I'm tired." He runs his hand over his face, before carding his fingers through his hair and pushing it off his face. He doesn't like the way you nibble on your lip before you look over at the door, his cheeks growing hot as you scamper off his bed to lock the iron knob. He raises a brow, attempting to appear nonchalant as you also close his window.

"It gets hot in here, why would you do that?" He feigns interest in your actions as you walk back over, rolling your eyes as you climb back onto his bed. You push the covers down, sliding in next to him. He instinctively moves over, the sheets cold beneath him as you snuggle into the warmth he's left behind.

"Spies." You shrug, fighting a smile as you lay your head on his pillow. He tongues his cheek as your hand traces shapes into his arm, before inching closer to rest your chin on it. You peer at him with the most charming look known to man, and he feels his resolve breaking.

"Y/N." "Jongseong." He sighs, before extending his arm out. You smile giddily as you snuggle into his side, your fingers ghosting over his bare chest. He wraps his own around your shoulders, gently poking your ribcage and getting a squeal out of you.

"You're horrible for my health, you know?" He murmurs, before feeling you smile against his skin. "I missed you, Jjongie." You admit, your fingernails drawing featherlight patterns into his stomach. He allows it, but you know his senses are on high alert should your mother make a surprise nightly round and not find you in your bedroom.

"I missed you, baby. But you know we can't keep doing this." He laments, feeling his heart sink as he feels you pout, your breath warm against his chest before you nod.

"Is it love at all, if in the dark?" You ask, before looking up at him.

He nods slowly, "I think so. I don't think I'd ever want to exist in a world where you're not all I am."

He swipes your hair back, before softly pinching your cheek between his knuckles. You scowl, shoving it away with your own hand, but he interlaces your fingers. He brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the warm skin before holding your hand to his chest. "Don't do that." You mumble, your eyes softened as you pull your hand away reluctantly. He knows what you mean – don't kiss you. Don't kiss you if he's not going to kiss you everywhere, if he's not going to remind you that there will never be someone who loves you as he does. Even if hidden, even if both of you are so full of adrenaline any time you're under the covers together, you know it – the love Jay holds in his heart is uninhibited, it's unmatched, it's irrevocable.

And it's all yours, all for you.

"Mmh." He presses another to your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks.

"Jay. Stop." You huff, your skin growing hot under his lips as he plants a kiss on your nose. "But I've missed you." He whispers against your lips, "I've missed my pretty girl."

"Jay." You pull back, only for him to trail his lips down your neck softly. "This is not what I was looking to do tonight." "Are you complaining?" He nips at your clavicle, and you laugh softly as you shake your head. "No." You move back, your nose bumping his as he meets your eyes. "I love you." "I love you." He mumbles back, before you press your lips to his chastely. Once, twice, three times. "What did you do today?" "Mmh, wonderful question from thee Park Jongseong." You cradle his face in your palm, absently stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I had lunch in the gardens with my mother. The Queen expects much of my attention, you see. I'm a very busy woman." He snorts, "So busy." You grin, "Incredibly. I wasted away today, however, because the love of me wasn't here. I spent my hours locked away in the library like a princess held captive, reading books of lovers who never abandon their soulmate–" "You are so dramatic." He buries his face in your neck, sinking his teeth into the muscle of your shoulder as you yelp. "Be quiet, someone could hear you." "As if you're not sinking your teeth into me like I'm some piece of meat." You scoff, pushing his head away to reveal blushing cheeks. "And I'm not dramatic, you abandoned me." "I 'abandoned' you on my given day off, and I invited you! You wanted to lounge in bed all day." He protests as you tug at strands of his jet black hair, "You just want me when it's beneficial, I know you." "Not true, I want you all the time." You snort, before swinging your leg over his hip and pull him closer. You press a kiss to his lips, "I need you all the time." "Need me, huh?" "Now who's being dirty?" He only laughs, his hand sliding high on your thigh as he pulls you impossibly closer. He slots his lips with yours, feeling you melt into his touch carefully. He can taste mint and chamomile on your tongue as you slip it into his mouth, a soft whine from your throat as sucks on it gently. "I missed you." He breathes against your lips as he moves to hover over you, but you don't get a chance to respond as he settles himself between your thighs, your dress riding high on your hips as your lips meld with his. It's slightly desperate, like he hadn't kissed you in years – but still so full of love, of adoration, of yearning.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, earning a groan from his lips as he pulls your hands away from him, pinning them above your head with one of his own. He kisses down your jaw chastely, before his teeth tug at your earlobe.

"Behave." "Do the tongue thing." You pant out, feeling his teeth graze the skin of your neck again as he laughs. "Please, please–" "You don't have to beg." He soothes, his free hand moving to the underside of your thigh. You lamely clench around nothing as he keeps kissing your neck, down your chest before you feel his teeth pull at the buttons of your nightgown. "Jay." "So impatient, princess." You huff, opening your mouth to argue when his cool fingers ghost over your bare slit. A squeak leaves your throat, making him laugh as you try and buck your hips into his hand. He pulls it away, tugging at the fabric of your nightgown.

"Wanna see you, pretty. Can we take this off?"

You nod eagerly, sitting up quickly to pull it over your head. He shoves his pants down his legs, and tosses both items to the other side of the bed before pushing you onto your back, pressing a kiss to your lips. You jerk slightly as you feel the weight of his cock against your hip, your mouth watering slightly at the idea of it stretching you out.

It hadn't, yet. Ever, actually.

"I love you." "I love you, Jjongie."

He smiles, your cheeks growing hot as you feel his lips trail further. His hands are soft against your skin, gently rubbing your hips and sides. He trails up your breast, his tongue darting out from between his lips to flick against your nipple. Your hand immediately flies to his hair, tangling in the dark locks as he does it again.

"Feel good?" You can't respond, feeling almost embarrassed at how worked up you've gotten over almost nothing but kissing.

But it's not just kissing, is it?

It's missing him, wanting him. Hating the feeling of knowing this could be a secret for the rest of your life. You know he knows that's where your mind goes as he continues, because he thinks the same thing. It always floats back to you when you're bare in front of each other, baring more than just your bodies. Your hearts, souls. Everything you yearn to hold in your hands, and know you do – but only behind closed doors.

He's on the other side now, the slight scrape of his teeth on your pebbled nipple pulling you back to the moment and drawing a breathy sigh from your throat. Your free hand covers your mouth, before feeling him suck the sensitive bud between his lips. He rolls his tongue against it, earning shaky, bitten-back breaths and your grip tightening in his hair.

"J-Jay–" "Mmh?"

He trails down your body, peppering kisses on your soft belly with carefully timed nips of his teeth.

"So beautiful, my love."

He murmurs against your hip before he presses a chaste kiss to it. He always did it, for whatever reason, before his hands splayed on the underside of your thighs and pushed them up. You feel his lips trail the inside of your thigh, feeling his teeth sink into the plush flesh and ripping a moan from your throat. He laps his tongue against the marks of his teeth, before he really pushes your thighs up and away – and you feel a bit of shyness settle in your belly as he sighs.

"Fuck, baby." He leans in, making you jolt as his nose bumps your clit. He wraps his arms around your thighs, inhaling deeply before flattening his tongue against your pussy. You bite back your groan, your eyes rolling back as he laps at your wet cunt like he can't get enough. He's savoring you, and you feel your breath get caught in your throat as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. He lets you rock your hips into his face, his own slowly humping against the mattress at the sheer taste of you. Your pants of yes, yes, oh my God bounce off his ears before he slides his hand down, tracing your hole with a finger. He draws gentle circles into your clit with his tongue as he eases it inside you, and you feel embarrassed at the wet sound that you hear as he carefully works in another.

This is the fullest you'd ever been, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he makes a mess of you on his tongue. He curls them slightly, your thighs threatening to close around his head as you feel your belly fill with warmth. Your moans are slightly breathier as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, your vision spotty as he curls them perfectly into that spongy spot inside you.

"Jjongie." You whine loudly, your free hand moving to your chest. Your fingers trace over your nipple, still slick with his spit; your body writhing against his tongue and fingers with the added sensation. He hums into you, and you feel your body tense against his face, a choked whimper sliding out of you as your orgasm washes over you.

You feel his fingers slip out of you, the wetness being smeared on your thigh as he buries his tongue inside your sloppy hole. You can feel him moan into you, your senses in overdrive as he cleans you up, his lips placing a teasing kiss on your thigh before hovering over you. He presses a soft kiss to your mouth, your hand moving to the base of his neck to keep him in place as you slide your tongue into his mouth. You both groan as the taste of yourself fills your mouth, tart and heady in the back of your throat as you feel him press against your thigh unconsciously.

"Baby…want you." "You have me, sweetheart." You shake your head, your hand snaking between the two of you to touch him. His eyes flutter shut as your hand wraps around his cock, the tip dribbling with a bit of precum that you spread with your thumb. He lets out a shaky breath, rocking his hips into your hand when he hears you speak again.

"Want you inside me. Wanna feel you." You mumble against him, squeezing your hand around his tip. He groans, bucking into the sensation involuntarily.

The idea of going all the way had been on the tips of your tongues for months, since you started this, really. It was a flame neither of you dared to touch, but the desire for it only grew the more either of you denied it. You resorted to kissing, touching…his tongue between your thighs any time you had a handful of minutes. You only got to return the favor with your mouth if your mother was out of the palace the next day – which, unfortunately for the two of you, wasn't very often.

"You know why we can't." "I don't care, I want you."

Your eyes are wide and wet as you work him in your hand, feeling him shudder above you as you brush your lips against his cheek.

"Please. Please, my heart."

He sighs shakily, his eyes squeezing shut as you slow the pace of your hand.

"You'll tell me if I'm hurting you, right?" His forehead is rested on your shoulder, pushing your hand away from him. You nod quickly as he physically wipes your hand against the sheets before folding his fingers into it, and sighing. "And this doesn't…change anything, right? You still…" He trails off, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. "I love you, no matter what happens."

He nods against your skin, "Okay."

He steadies himself above you, letting go of your hand to spread your thighs gently. He breathes out, one of his hands moving to align the tip of his cock with your entrance, but you're still so wet from the first round that he slides between the folds. His tip kisses your clit, making your stomach cave in in a breath. Your hand claws at the sheets, gripping them tightly as he mumbles a dazed apology.

His brows are furrowed slightly as he does it again, watching the way you shudder at the feeling. He files it to the back of his mind, before lining himself up carefully. "Are you sure? We can stop any time. We can stop right now." He licks his lips nervously, but you shake your head. "Please, I'm ready. I want you, all of you."

He pushes forward carefully, his eyes fixed on your face. You smile softly at him, your hand reaching for his. He takes it gently, interlacing your fingers as he sinks in deeper. Your nose scrunches slightly, and he stops. You swallow slightly, squeezing his hand with a nod of your head. He moves a bit more, a soft whimper from your throat making him stop again when you shake your head, squeezing his hand again to signal that you're okay.

He sinks into you the rest of the way, trying not to close his eyes at the warmth of your gummy walls surrounding him. You let out a breath through your mouth, his hand on your thigh moving to trace circles into your clit. The way you clench around him nearly makes him fall forward, but the scrunch in your brows starts to dissipate the more he does it; before you move his hand, away. "Move, Jjongie." You whisper, before feeling him move to hover over you once more. His lips brush against yours gently, your hands cradling his face to kiss him. He uses the moment to pull out slightly, before pushing back in. You grimace, feeling his hand slide to your hip, squeezing as he kisses you again. He moves, trying to hold a groan back as you squeeze around his cock.

"Jay…" Your voice is breathy against his lips, and he sighs shakily before thrusting into you again carefully. You moan in his ear, feeling his head fall against your shoulder as your hands move to his back. You feel him mutter soft curses into your skin, whimpers filling your ears.

"I love you." You whisper as he peppers kisses along your skin, feeling your eyes water as you hear him say those precious words back. "I love you, my heart."

He feels so good, filling you to the brim with shallow thrusts that are somehow angeled perfectly to hit that spot inside you. Your legs wrap around his hips as a tear slides down your face, locking your ankles as the sound of your pussy swallowing him fills the room.

When you feel a wet drop on your neck, a muffled fuck in your ear as he thrusts particularly hard, knocking the wind out of you.

"Shit, I'm s–"

You silence him with your lips smashing into his, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so overwhelming that you feel dizzy. His movements grow slightly sloppy as your pussy flutters around him – the same familiar feeling in your lower belly growing as your nails dig into his back as he pulls away from your face and buries his nose in your neck. "Say you're mine." His voice is breathy, making you shiver as you nod eagerly, your voice nothing but a whine as you mouth at the small scar on his shoulder.

"Yours. Only yours." Your thighs tighten around his hips as you cum around him, a groan from his throat filling your ears as he spills inside you. He kisses the side of your neck tiredly, the shallow thrusting of his hips slowing to a stop as he carefully pushes off you.

Your pants fill the room, eyes fluttering closed as his hands knead the soft flesh of your thighs. "Are you okay?" He murmurs, hands moving to squeeze at your hips and sides. You nod lazily, humming in his direction as if asking the same. He nods in response, planting a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You wince at the sudden emptiness, running a hand through your hair as you look to see he's slipped off the bed, rustling around his dresser. He returns with a towel, pressing a kiss to your knee before gently wiping you clean.

"You are absolutely terrible for my health, princess." He mutters, earning a scoff from you as you nudge his hip with your foot. He snickers, giving your side a soft pinch and making you squeal before swatting his hand away. "You love me, Park Jongseong." You retort as he smiles, tossing the dirty towel to the hamper. He nods, nuzzling his nose against yours as you pout. "Tell me you love me." "I do love you, angel. You know that." He gives you a pointed look as he lays next to you, before kissing your lips softly. "I will love you, until the end of my days. Don't pretend like you don't know I'd give my life for you." You huff as he pulls the blanket over you, his han on your back pulling you close. You allow it, swinging your leg over his hip and resting your head on his bicep. He presses a kiss to your hairline, your own lips peppering over his collarbone.

"What happens tomorrow?"

Your voice breaks the silence, and he sighs. He knows tomorrow starts a long week of festivities, ended by a Saturday morning gathering of the entire kingdom – for you to step up to the throne as Queen. Your mother had made it clear that the death of your father would not push back your growth within the kingdom, and you'd be taking over come Saturday morning. You'd be sat in your best dress, your hair swept back and donning your heaviest jewels. You'd be sat in front of the entire kingdom, presented with your mother's crown and her staff.

You'd be Queen, and he'd be left to yearn behind the scenes.

"I don't know, my love." "I won't marry if it's not you, you know." "I won't either. You know that."

He looks down at you, your eyes wide as you scan his face. He feels his cheeks warm as he cradles your face gently, your hand moving to his wrist.

And just for this moment, you're not the Princess of Decelis. You're not the princess of anything, you're nothing but his. His to hold, to cherish, to love. His to kiss and worship, to kneel before and ask forgiveness for his sins. The queen of his heart.

"I love you, Jongseong." "I love you, Y/N."

IT'S THURSDAY EVENING, AND IT'S THE FIRST TIME HE'S GOTTEN A MOMENT TO HIMSELF SINCE THE START OF YOUR FESTIVITIES.

He's sitting at his windowsill, resting his cheek on the heel of his palm. A glass of wine sits untouched next to him as he stares at the stars. They're dim, but they're there – freckling the sky and accompanying the moon, the beauty of it reminding him of you. The kingdom is quiet aside from the trotting of a few horses on the cobblestone, the laughter of teenagers echoing through the town as they sneak pints of mead and bottles of wine from the back of the local brewery.

He hasn't been able to speak to you much since that night in his bedroom, and he feels his stomach turn every time you make a moment to talk to him – only to be pulled away. By a childhood friend wanting to dance, or a man thinking he has a chance to win your heart – he always lets you go, seeing the bit of anger flare in the back of your eyes as you slip away. He misses you, and you're only ever two or three inches away. He walks alongside you, his hands folded behind his back as yours rest in front of you. With every move of your arms, the collar of your dress reveals the dotted bruising of his teeth against your shoulder – to the point that he adjusts your hair over it several times. No one thinks anything more of it. Just a devoted guard that cares for the safety and image of the Princess of Decelis.

He misses when you were just his heart. The reason behind the wild thundering of it in his ribcage, the sole reason he breathes and lives. He hates the way your gold locket burns under his clothes, hidden under the collars of his shirts since you clipped it on him on Sunday morning with a silent kiss to his lips.

Now?

You're moving throught the gardens below with your mother, he spots you a few feet into the rose bushes. The moonlight illuminates the satin of your baby blue dress, the glitter catching his eyes as you stop suddenly. You turn around, your eyes dancing around before you look up, meeting his. Yours widen, lips parting before your mother speaks and you close it.

"Don't look at me that way, Y/N. It worries me." His brows jump, and he sees the way your eyes fill with guilt before you look away from him. "Everything worries you, Mother." You respond, your hands clutching the fabric of your dress as the Queen comes into view. Her dress is a deep sea blue, the belled sleeves gathered around her hands as she folds them in front of her. "Y/N, I run a kingdom and make thousands of decisions in just one day. Now, I've got an daughter that picks at her food in front of guests, of course I worry. What has gotten into you? Please tell me now, lest I pull it out of you."

Your mother's voice is quite soothing to him, and he feels a rift in the air as he hears the heels of your shoes click on the cobblestone.

"Mother, I…I don't want you to be upset." "Darling, please. Spit it out before I get collywobbles."

Your face crumples slightly, and he sits up quickly when he sees you cover your face with your hands. Your mother quickly pulls you into her embrace, her hands smoothing over your hair as you cry into her chest. She shushes you as one does a baby.

"I could never be upset with you, Y/N. You're everything to me, you have to know that." She rubs her hand over the back of your head, carefully tucking your hair behind your ears. "Everything I do, I do for you. The kingdom, the feasts, everything is for you, Y/N. As long as you're happy, I'll never have any reservations." Your head lifts, and the moonlight shines on the sheen of tears down your cheeks.

"What happens when I become Queen? Will I have to marry someone of your choosing?"

Your mother looks taken aback, before shaking her head. Her hand carefully adjusts the bejeweled tiara on your head, before tucking her hands behind her back.

"I married for love." She says softly, but it's still heard in the still of night. She turns, walking carefully down the pathway to one of the stone benches. "I married for love, and mighty me, did I love." The Queen sits on the edge of it, looking up at you making your way in front of her. She smiles softly, and he sees so much of you in her. "This is about Jongseong." He feels his heart stop, the sound of his name from your mother's lips so foreign. She awarded him curt nods, gentle smiles since his station at the palace, but nothing more.

He looks to you, seeing the tiara in your hand and you picking at the silver framework. "It wasn't on purpose." "Yes, it was."

His brows furrow at the admission, only to see you mirroring his expression.

"What?" The Queen shrugs, a small smile gracing her features as she plucks one of the roses off the bush next to her.

"Your betrothal wasn't a thought that crossed my mind until your father came to bed after your celebration feast." She picks at a petal, letting it float to the ground beneath her feet. "I'd long run my options into the ground, I was trying to pull any and every string to get you out of the alliance marriage with Desrosiers. It was eating me alive."

You knelt before her, eyes riddled with curiosity as he leaned further out the window.

"He said you thought Jongseong was cute. That you were in the kitchen with the chef, and making him a pastry with the berries you bought that day. I remember I went to check your bedroom when he said that, and you weren't there. I asked one of the maids to find you, but she told me you were busy making a lemon curd." She nods, a fond smile gracing her lips as she picks another petal off the bud.

"And then, you wore your favorite dress the next day when you left the stables. I saw you from my bedroom, and you had the giddiest smile on your face." She laughs, her fingers gently spreading the unbloomed bud to reveal the anthers. "Your father smiled the same way, you know, when we met on the night of my suitors' ball. We snuck out to this very garden, sat on this bench and looked at the stars."

"I catch the two of you out of the corner of my eye quite often. When you're visiting his parents in the forest, and he helps you onto your horse. When you're in the library, reading all the books he recommends and he falls asleep on your shoulder. When he's teaching you things that he loves, and you listen instead of scrunching your nose and turning away. That's…that's something I could never arrange, ally, or even enchant. You don't find that anywhere, not like this."

He hears a soft sniffle, before seeing her slide the rose over your ear.

"He's done just as I've asked of him. In a world so bleak, where the devil is in the details…he's shown you love." Her hands cup your face gently, "You…are everything to me. You're the apple of my eye, and I know I could never, ever take something so pure away from you. The crown, the throne, the kingdom…it's all yours. Yours for the taking, the ruling, all of it. And it's something you've never had to earn, even if you've worked hard for it." The Queen stands, pulling you to your feet and into her arms.

"You don't just get love. You earn it. You earn every caress, every kiss, every moment of companionship. That boy…you've won him over so dearly. He's kind, and gentle. He's responsible and I know he'd love you until the end of your days."

She pulls away, cradling your face in her hands with a stern look settled in her brows.

"Don't you dare break his heart, Y/N."

"I would never." You smile mischievously, your hands circled her wrists as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Is this what you've had your stomach in knots about? Jongseong?" Your mother trills her lips, pinching your cheeks. "Go on, off to bed you go. You've got quite the rehearsal tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother. And…" You glance over her shoulder, your eyes pinning him in place as his cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Thank you." "I'd bring the stars down if you asked, my darling. Now, scram. I've got many things to do before tomorrow's festivities." She wiggles her finger at you as you clutch your dress in your hands, your tiara grasped in one of them as you nod. You turn on your heel, the click of them against the cobblestone getting louder as you made your way back to the castle.

He watches fondly as the fabrics flow behind you, his chest warm as you disappear into the north tower entrance. He goes to move from the windowsill, but something stops him as he sees the Queen's shoulders sag. She sits down once more, a sigh from her lips as she takes the heavy golden crown atop her head and thumbs at the large gems. She sets it down in her lap, her hands reaching around her neck and a locket similar to yours appears in her palm. She opens it, her finger tracing the photo inside it with sigh. She holds it to her chest, a deep breath slipping through her lips.

"Oh, my heart. How I miss you, so." She sniffled, before inhaling shakily and closing the locket. He hears the door of his room open, but he doesn't turn around as he feels your arms snake over his shoulders. His hand reaches for yours, interlacing your fingers as your lips brush his cheek.

"She's so…sad." He murmurs, feeling your thumb trace soft circles into his skin. He can feel your lips open to say something, when your mother speaks again.

She looks up to the sky, the brightest star shining to the left of the moon.

"I know you're looking down, my heart. Do you think they'll marry? She'll miss you there." She stands, holding her crown in her hand before taking a deep breath and placing it atop her head once more. "But, I'll see you there. I know it." She clasps the locket around her neck once more, tucking it beneath the collar of her dress before another sigh comes out.

"Goodnight, my heart. I love you dearly." The Queen folds her hands in front of her, her head bowed as she quietly made her way through the garden. He sighs, before turning to you. Your brows are furrowed as you stare into the night, the cogs in your head turning before you pull him away from the window. He allows it, following you down the hall with his hand interlaced with yours.

"Come, we've got work to do before my coronation."

THE DAWN OF SATURDAY WAS BROUGHT FORTH WITH SERENE SILENCE.

He was taking a deep breath in front of your mother's bedroom, having reluctantly left the safety of your arms. He held the bouquet he'd arranged the night before, with Friday being bursting with activities and way too much on your plate. Marigolds, Grand Cru lilies, with speckles of baby's breath and the touch of white bouvardia. A bouquet you saw much of during your parents' marriage – with gifts of berries from Jay's family, pastries made by your father's careful hands, songs played by the royal orchestra at your father's order.

You'd seemed like a madwoman last night, darting around in the kitchen and giving him things to do. He'd muddled berries, kneaded pastry dough, settled a lemon curd. He'd wrapped the flowers in wax paper, tied together with an ivory bow you'd stolen from your mother's collection – one she'd worn the night of her suitors' ball so many years ago.

"You haven't got all day, my love."

Your voice echoed down the hall, and he looked up to see you carefully clipping in your earrings. Your hair had been tied back and you weren't close to being ready, but he felt his heart all too warm as you smiled and waved him forward with both hands. He turned back to the heavy oak door, his hand grabbing the iron knocker and tapping it to the door three times.

"Your Majesty? It's Jongseong." He speaks clearly, but feels his stomach flip as he hears the click of her shoes on the marble tile. He looks back up to see you've gone, closing his eyes as he takes another deep breath. He hears the door lock click open, before a shred of the morning light peeks through.

Your mother looks down at him, her eyes wide as she pulls the door open further.

"Yes?" Her voice is soft, and he opens his eyes to see her dressed in a bright, golden yellow dress. His eyes widen, hand tightening around the bouquet. Her eyes fill with worry, "Are you alright? Is that…for me?" "I…yes. Yes, it is. From…the Princess and I." He holds it out to her, her hand hesitating to take it as her eyes rake over it. "The Princess?" She whispers, before thumbing at the petals of the lilies. She takes it gently, her eyes filling with something of suspicion as she examines them. "Is she…planning something? She's a daring little thing, you know." "Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty." He lies through his teeth, his eyes catching the morning light reflecting off the glittering dress. "If I may…you look lovely." The Queen tenses, her hand moving to the bodice of her dress. She shifts quietly, before looking back at him.

"It's the least I could do for her. She complains that I never wear colors anymore. I figured…it's not too flashy, is it? She always liked this one best." The Queen turns to the grand mirror against the wall, and he cleared his throat.

"It's not about what I think, is it?" He smiles softly, earning a laugh from the Queen. It's rich, but airy and playful.

"I suppose today is all about her. I'm sure she'll love it, she has to." She soothes herself, before catching his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "Jongseong?" "Yes, Your Majesty?" He straightens, and she turns on her heel, placing the hefty bouquet on her pillows. The bell sleeves of her dress come forward as she folds her manicured hands in front of her, her head tilted slightly under her sparkling bejeweled crown.

"You'll keep her safe, won't you? If you marry?"

He feels his chest warm and swell with pride, his cheeks flushing as he bows at the waist. "It would be my honor, Your Majesty."

"And you'll love her, until the end of her days? 'Til death do you part?" Her voice grows stern, her brows furrowed at the center as he lifts his head. Her eyes are steely, only hardening more as he nodded.

"I'd give my life." He admits softly, her eyes softening. The Queen nods, and his eyes widen as she, too, bows at the waist with her eyes closed.

"Then I give you my blessing to take her hand in marriage." She whispers, before straightening and folding her hands behind her back. "Through sickness and health, for richer or poorer." "To love and cherish." He murmurs, folding his hands behind his back as he meets her eyes. "I give you my word, Your Majesty." She only nods softly, before reaching around her neck and unclasping her necklace. A thick, gold band is hanging next to the locket, and he recognizes it as the ring the King used to wear when he would visit. Without letting go of her locket, she carefully pulls at her left ring finger. He can't help but feel his eyes widen as she holds the hefty gold bands out to him. She gives him a pointed look, flicking her wrist for him to take the jewelry. He does so carefully, before she smiles.

"I've had them blessed by the town priest, so don't worry. Now…see to it that everything is in place in the gardens, will you? It's going to be a very busy day."

He nods, "Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you…for everything."

"It's my honor, Jongseong. Please, go." He reaches for the door without another word, closing it gently behind him before he makes his way down the hall, his hands cool against flaming hot cheeks.

Jay is strolling through the garden as the trickle of guests begin arriving, greeting them gently as the royal orchestra plays soft music at the edge of the rose garden. You'd be crowned Queen in the marigold garden, the courtyard decorated to your liking – cream and ivory ribbon tied in all sorts of bows, glittering vases filled with refreshing spring water on the long table covered in fruit and meat and soft, spongy cakes.

Your mother's throne sits at the end of the court yard, the Decelis staff and coronation crown sat on a purple velvet pillow. They sparkle in the sunlight, with the people of the kingdom fawning over it from a distance – a royal guard standing on high alert next to the throne.

"Oh, this is beautiful."

He hears a familiar voice at the entrance of the lily garden, his eyes widening as he sees his parents slip in. He rushes over, a smile on his face as his mother waves him over.

"You're here! Did the Queen send for you?" He embraces them warmly, but hears your voice before they can respond.

"I sent for them, Jongseong. Mrs. Park, Mr. Park. It's an honor to see you again. I'm sorry I couldn't make it back last weekend, I had a terrible case of the lollygag." The three of them look up to see you smiling brightly – your dress long and sparkling in the morning sun, of glittering alabaster tulle and a billowing skirt in the soft breeze. Your arms are covered in sparkling sleeves, belled at the wrists and your shoulders peeking from the lowered cuffs. Your hair is pulled back, not a single strand out of place under your twinkling tiara. Your ears don simple gold hoops, your necklace the crest of the kingdom on an ovaled pendant.

"Oh, my stars." Mrs. Park's hand covers her mouth, "Look at you, Princess."

"Oh, you flatter me. Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable, there's a table reserved for you at the front." You give them a quick curtsy, giving Mrs. Park a quick hug and Mr. Park a soft handshake. "I'll see you all during the feast, yes?" "Of course." Mr. Park nods, before Jay watches them slip away. You glance at him, your smile softening as you inch near – not close enough to catch attention, but seemingly just a princess speaking to her guard about something worrisome.

"I love you." You whisper, only to earn a scoffed laugh.

"You're going to be the death of me, look at you." He whispers back, and you hide your laugh with a bite of your lip. "I love you, my heart." "I'll see you after, yes? Sit with your parents." You pat his arm, and he nods, before disguising a tiara adjustment as an excuse to touch you.

"I have to talk to you after, okay? We can meet in the library." He whispers, and your eyes fill with worry. "Is everything alright?" "Of course, my heart. Why would I worry you on such an important day?" His smile is warm, and you give him a suspicious one with a pat to his chest. "Well…I'll see you. Go, sit while I mingle. I need you up there when I get crowned." You wiggle your brows, and he lets his eyes flicker to your lips. You stick your tongue out at him, "Not here." "I know, I know. But…you know, right?" He pretends to adjust the tiara again, watching the way you fight yourself from leaning into the touch. "You have to know." "I do. I love you. Now, go, beloved." You point your gaze, and he retreats his hands to his back, giving you a curt nod.

"As you wish, Your Highness." He grins as you scowl, laughing to himself as he turns away and walks towards his parents. They're seated quietly, with two glasses of water poured in front of them and a plate of sliced fruit. They smile at each other as they pick at the berries chosen from their shop, and he slips into the chair next to them.

"Does the Queen know?" His mother whispers, and he clears his throat quietly. "Yes." He tries not to let the giddiness climb up his throat, and she smiles softly. "Are you happy?" His father questions, and he nods discreetly.

"It's the softest thing I've ever felt." He looks up before picking at the plate of fruit, piercing a blackberry with a toothpick as he sees you take a flute of sparkling cider off a passing waiter's tray. You hand it to the younger woman in front of you, before tucking her hair behind her ear. You give her a soft nod, before turning away and leaving her in awe.

Much like you've always left him.

"Welcome, welcome! Ladies and gentleman, it is such an honor to have you all here for this incredibly important day in our kingdom's history. Today, we witness the spring equinox be christened with the crowning of a new Queen, of a new ruler."

Your mother is standing bright and tall at the end of the marigold garden, with everyone in utter astonishment at the return of her colorful wardrobe. She's practically glimmering in everyone's eyes – and she holds her composure at everyone's loving eyes as she continues to speak.

"Through the years of my time as Queen, I've seen many things. Even as just a part of this world, I've seen so much. I've seen death, I've seen birth. I've seen renewal and growth, I've seen the sick be healed and the healed lose their minds in utter despair at the idea of loss. There are some special gratitudes I'd like to put forth, particularly to the Park family." She smiles warmly at their table, and they smile quietly.

You're standing with Jay next to the throne, your hands folded behind your back when you sneak at a glance at him. Your eyes catch his, and he raises a brow as he looks between his parents. "The Park family has not only brought forth an incredibly bounty – the juice of their fruit so sweet on our tongues, the magic of Mrs. Park's medicinal genius curing our sickness…but the blanket of love they have covered my family in. For decades, I've entrusted my life in their hands, my daughter's…my heart, the King." The crowd of townspeople hum in mourning, and your mother rolls her shoulders gently. Her hands cover her chest, fingers curled around each other as she breathes in.

"With death, comes life. Though the loss of the King has been long in the past now, I still feel it. I feel the pain, deep in my heart. As though a piece of my soul has gone with him, as though I'm no longer complete." Her voice remains strong and steady, but her eyes water slightly as she rolls her shoulders once more.

"I remember when I first introduced Y/N as the Princess of Decelis. Everyone, as far as the eye could see, became incredibly enamored with her. And I could feel it, I could feel the adoration of everyone who came to see her. It was one of the proudest moments of my life, and…through her, every time I see her…" She turns to look at you, standing next to her throne with your head held high.

"It's like the King never left. She is so full of light, love and life. Life, what we are all surviving when we should be living. What more could I ever ask of her? When I know she'll be a wonderful ruler, a fair and just Queen. What more, I ask, could I ever want? When I know she will be happy, with the love that she gives and the light that she shines upon us all?"

Jay glances at you through the corner of his eye, your eyes watering as you step forward. You don't see the way his fingers clench at his side, wanting to comfort you.

"The Princess has some thoughts she'd like to share before we continue. Please, a standing ovation."

The Queen steps back, her smile soft as you take her place. Everyone in front of you has the same bright smile, but the only ones that matter are behind you.

"It is truly an honor to be in front of you all today to accept the next step in my journey. The Queen and I have gone through many things together, and though I've seen only what half has she, I…know the love. The light that shines on this kingdom, not brought forth by me but by her. So much kindness, and generosity, even through her own tribulations. Wouldn't you agree?" Your smile garners the cheers of the townspeople gathered throughout the gardens, and you clap along them softly. Your face grows slightly solemn as you clear your throat. "Three years ago this winter, our kingdom was ambushed by Fort Allingham and Castle Desrosiers. A plot of land just south of our kingdom was unclaimed, and it is said that greed is the greatest root of all evil. Land, gold, riches in oil can all be taken; when a life is taken to stake their claim, when life a many is taken…it cannot be in vain. The King…he died with honor. His sacrifice, and his memory will not be thrown away or forgotten. With this, I ask for a moment of silence for the royal orchestra to play something I've asked to honor him today, as well as the indescribable love he had for my mother."

You watch as the people of your kingdom turn to the orchestra in the rose garden, your mother's brow slightly furrowed as she does the same.

Her eyes widen as the opening notes of Salut D'Amour float through the garden.

Soft murmurs fill the garden – because everyone who knows the story of your mother and father knows that it was the first and only song they danced to during the suitors' ball where they met. Everyone who went to the royal wedding and sat in that sacred ballroom, knows that Salut D'Amour played as their first dance together.

Everyone who was at the feast to honor your father, knows that Salut D'Amour played during the last dance of the night.

Salut D'Amour – Greeting of Love.

The Queen hums along quietly, her eyes watering as she sways from side to side. The townspeople do the same, and you feel the heat of Jay's eyes on you as everyone else is turned away. You meet them, a soft smile on your lips as you tilt your head.

The song ends, and the garden is erupted in cheers as your mother steps to you, resting her forehead to yours.

"Thank you, darling." She steps aside, and you garner their attention once more.

"My father was a wonderful man, father and king. I hope to only live up to my mother's legacy, and his. Thank you for being with me on this very special day." You take a quick bow as they clap gently, before taking a step back next to the thrown. Your mother smiles, stepping forward alongside her royal guard that holds the pillow. She grabs the staff in her right hand, before you turn to face her. Jay places a thick cushion on the ground for you to kneel onto, gingerly taking your hand to help you down. He lets his touch linger, before another guard hands him a matching pillow for your tiara.

"Today, we witness a wonderful transition for the Decelis Kingdom." She touches the end of the staff to your left shoulder, "Princess Y/N will honor the crest of the kingdom, the glory, the honesty and the truth…" She touches it to your right shoulder, "She will make her decisions of sane heart and mind, and bring forth only fruit to the kingdom. She will be just, and fair…" She touches the staff to the top of your head, "And she will bestow mercy upon us all. Do you choose to venerate these honors as I have read them to you?"

"I do." You hold your hands out for the staff, and the Queen gingerly places it in your hands. You lean your head forward, your mother carefully lifting your tiara and placing it on the pillow in Jay's hands. He hands it off to another royal guard, who steps back with it and stands rigidly. She turns slightly, taking the coronation crown in her hands and Jay holds his hand for you to take as you stand. You transfer the staff into your right hand, bowing your head as your mother places the heavy crown atop your head.

"Crowned on this 80th calendar day, on the first equinox of the year; I present the honorable Queen of Decelis."

You turn to face the people of your kingdom, your cheeks hurting as the entire garden fills with screams and cheers, a few whistles sounding off from the somehow tipsy men in the corner. You give the Parks a warm smile as they stand and clap, before you speak again.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's celebrate!"

"You have no idea how many people asked when I'm getting married, and if I'd be having a suitors' ball. Apparently, it's unheard of for a prospective Queen to advance to the throne without being betrothed. How incredibly modern of me." You're slumped over the end of your bed, earning a soft laugh as he pulled at the strings of your dress. You sighed in relief at the loosening of the bodice around your torso, stretching slightly. He pulls the zipper down with ease, his knuckles digging lightly against your back as you groan. "And what did you tell them?" You huff, before rolling on your back. There's a guilty look in your eye, and he feels suspicion cross his features as he leans over you. He raises a brow as you look away from him.

"Y/N." "Don't say my name like that, then I can't ignore it."

You cover your face with your hands, but he pulls them away from you, pinning them above your head as he gives you an expectant look. You sigh, tonguing your cheek before rolling your eyes.

"I told them that I was already betrothed." You mumble, making him groan slightly. "I don't believe in jinxes! So we're fine! It's fine!" "Honey, you can't do that. People are going to stir up a flurry of rumors." He scolds, but you only jut your lip out in a pout.

"Don't chastise me right now, I saved you from having to ask me! And I've had a long day!" You try and reason, but he only shakes his head, leaning closer. He feels your breath hitch as his lips brush yours as he speaks.

"And what makes you think I don't want to ask you to marry me? Why do you get to make that decision for us?" You blink carefully, before sighing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, before you shrug in defeat.

"I guess I jumped the gun." "Oh, but you've had such a long day." You scoff, "Don't patronize me." He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You frown as he pulls away before you can kiss him back, but he lets go of your hands entirely and slides off the bed. You try not to look disappointed as you slip in front of your vanity, pulling pins out of your hair and rubbing your fingers against your scalp. Your eyes roll slightly, before you feel Jay's fingers begin to pluck the rest of the pins out.

"Your mother spoke to me this morning when I delivered her flowers. She's quite scary sometimes." He nods as you look at him through the mirror, your eyes wide as you attempt to turn to look at him. He smirks, holding your head in place with his hands as you scowl. "My mother is not scary." You grumble, tonguing your cheek before you feel his dull fingernails scrape lightly against your scalp. You lean into it, and he bites back a laugh as he massages the back of your head. He leans down slightly, pressing his lips to your temple before whispering.

"She gave me her blessing." He watches your eyes widen in the mirror, before you twist in your seat. "You asked her?" "She didn't give me a chance, she just asked me if I'd keep you safe." You turn fully as he crouches in front of you, carefully pulling your heels off. "And what did you say?" "That it would be my honor. She asked if I'd love you until the end of your days, 'til death do us part. I said I'd give my life. The way I see it, your mother practically married us already."

You snort, nudging his thigh with your foot. "You haven't even asked me yet."

He smiles, feeling his heart warm as you realize that that's precisely what he's about to do. "No, Jay, not right now! I look a mess, and I'm half dressed–" "And yet, you're still the love of my life. Funny how that works, isn't it?" He grins as you pout, your eyes filling with tears as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the gold bands that belonged to your mother. "She gave me these."

Your pout only deepens as you cover your face with your hands, a soft sob falling from your lips as he coos.

"Oh, sweetheart. Come on, don't cry. I haven't even asked yet."

You uncover your face, a furrow in your brows as your voice sounds off, thick with tears. "It doesn't even matter if you have, I know you're going to and I'm going to say yes so just put the damn thing on me already!" "You really have had such a long day, I'd hate to make it longer." He can't help but smile wider, making you scoff.

"I'm in tears and you're smiling at me! You're cynical!" You wipe at your face with your hands as he bends one knee on the floor, only for your face to crumple the moment it hits the ground. "Jongseong!" He takes your hand gently, your lips pouty as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. "I love you, you know that?" He starts, "You are the softest, purest form of love I've ever been subjected to and I don't think I could ever fathom a life where I don't come home to you every single night. I love you when you're sick and throwing a fit because it's too hot, I love you when you hog the blankets in my room even though you're technically not even supposed to be in there." You scoff, but don't interrupt as he runs his thumb over your knuckles.

"I love you like every day will be my last, and I worship the ground you walk upon until I can no longer crawl behind you. If my dying day was spent by your side…I could never ask for more."

He glances up at you, your eyes wide and wet and full of love.

"Marry me." He whispers, and you nod your head frantically. "Yes, I intend to. Hurry up!" You splay your fingers, making him snort as he shakes his head.

"You're so impatient." He rolls his eyes, but doesn't miss the tremble in his fingers as he carefully slides the ring on yours. Your hand grabs his, pulling him forward and pressing a warm kiss to his lips before grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks between your hands. You pepper kisses all over it, with murmurs of I love you sprinkled in before you stop suddenly, your eyes wide as you pull back.

"You're going to be King." You blurt, and he shrugs but you shake your head, still holding onto his face as you ramble. "Jay, you're going to be King. There is so much my mom is going to have to teach you, and she–"

"Honey." "She's going to have to set up the wedding because I don't know how to do that, and what if she–" "Y/N." You stop, embarrassedly letting go of his face. "I'm sorry." He takes hold of your hands, standing from his spot in front of you and pulling you with him. He plants a kiss on your hairline, before tucking a loose curl behind your ear.

"Where you go, I go. Doesn't matter what I am, as long as I'm yours. We'll figure it out in due time." He presses a chaste kiss to your pouted lip, before cradling your face in his hands. "What do you say I help you decompress from your oh so long day?" You raise a brow, "Are you gonna–" "Do the tongue thing, yes." "Lock my door. We may be engaged, but I'm still a lady."

THE WEDDING WAS HELD THREE WEEKS LATER AND WAS A HUGE SUCCESS – WITH MANY TOWNSPEOPLE TALKING ABOUT HOW EASY IT WAS TO FIGURE OUT THAT IT WAS HIM YOU WERE ENGAGED TO.

How, you may be asking? Neither of you are as subtle as you think. Apparently, neither of you could stop sharing glances during the last feast of your coronation festivities, and a few of the straggling women spotted him press a kiss to your shoulder as he helped clean up the garden. Not to mention the fact that several huntsmen had also been in the forest every time you and him went to visit his parents. As it turns out, you don't usually end up making out against a tree during regular archery lessons, but hey – life is short. Foragers had also spotted the two of you about, and you're embarrassed to know that one of the fishermen in town had come across you and Jay canoodling while roasting a wild salmon over a campfire. Mr. Lee insisted it was fine, that it was cute – and also, none of his business.

The wedding had been grand – and quick. Jay was always right, you were incredibly impatient; but you saw no reason for something to take so long to plan when you had everything perfectly accessible. Your ceremony was only family and a few scattered friends – but the reception was a huge feast that gathered all the townspeople in your garden once more. Your first dance was to Salut D'Amour, and you got slightly tipsy off a few flutes of champagne. Your dress was something delicate, worked on from the morning after your coronation to the morning of your wedding – and every single sparkle of glitter was perfect in the beaming sunlight. As for Jay? He was crowned King in the privacy of your mother's throne room, with his parents and you present. No one in town made a fuss about it, seemingly aware that he was a private person – after all, you managed to keep a relationship of three years secret…for the most part. He admitted he didn't really care for the title, only taking it because it meant a great deal of support for you as Queen.

He moved his belongings into your bedroom, and you could tell the way things really hit him as he put away the last book in his collection onto your shelf.

"...So this is us, huh?" He murmured, slipping under the covers as you snorted, resting your head on the heel of your palm as he turned on his side to face you. "We're married." "We are." You smile, "It's insane to me to know that me telling my father I thought you were cute has led us here."

"I love knowing that you fell first." "Oh, shut up. You fell harder." "I'm not refuting that, I'm just saying…you like me." "I love you, idiot." You roll your eyes as he scoots closer, and you swing your leg over his hip. "Just wait until everyone starts asking about heirs. I swear, it will feel like the most awkward thing ever." "We just got married, they can wait a year or two." He snorts, and you raise a brow.

"A year or two? More like three or four." You scoff, and he smiles. "Don't smile at me like that, it's like you're plotting something." "Three or four years?" He moves to hover over you slightly, making you groan as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. "Jay." "Mmh?" "You are horrible, terrible, no good for my health." You huff embarrassedly as he trails down your jaw, his hand pushing the hem of your nightgown up. "Awful, even. Bad." "Mhm, mhm." His fingers curl around the waistband of your underwear, "Have you tried detrimental to? Maybe ghastly?" "You're parlous for my health, my beloved husband." You roll your eyes as he smiles, before feeling the fabric of your underwear being pulled down your legs. "Jay." "Consider this a practice round." He presses a kiss to your lips, "Just wanna make you feel good, okay?"

And of course, it's okay. It's always okay – it's you and him, forever.

That's why you're never against him, either. You'd never felt so safe in the arms of someone who didn't owe you anything – because he didn't. He didn't owe you the kindness of his heart, the warmth of his love or the solidness of his honesty. He didn't owe you friendship, because when this started – it was just a job. To protect you from harm, to watch over you, to help you hop along.

When he first came into your life after your father's death, he helped you see there was a way to have your cake and eat it too, to win the battle and the war.

There didn't have to be more than that to your relationship – more than the subtle reminders of unbreakable love, of yearning desire, of undying patience.

There didn't have to be anything more to you as a person – nothing but who you were already, sprinkled in with what it was like to be loved by Jay. It was warm, it was patient and kind…and it was everything to you. Jay was everything to you, and you felt ease knowing it could now forever rest at the forefront of your mind – because he is proof that you can win the battle, and conquer the world.

"Honey?" "Yes, my heart?" "I love you." "I love you, angel."

596 notes · View notes

monamipencil · 10 months ago

Text

— right here | j.ww

⋆ pairings; wonwoo x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, stalker themes, angst, fluff, 90s! au ⋆ w.c; 2.9k+ ⋆ warnings; stalking, a brief non-con talk (doesn't actually happen), masturbating (m.&f.), almost phone sex, stealing of panties, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, he's a bit toxic and an idiot, he's a law student, reader's parents are mentioned as strict and conservative ⋆ a/n; yeah... tried to make it dark and failed miserably. and yes wonwoo reads kafka and you can't change my mind.

stalker! wonwoo who also loves horror movies and hence loves to pull little pranks on you.

“so, gotta boyfriend?” his voice is distorted by the voice changer before it reaches you on the other side. he sighs dreamily, eyes focused on your figure as you cook dinner.

you're not wearing any pants, just an oversized shirt. even though he knows your answer, he waits for you to reply. you blow the soup before tasting it, your landline phone pinched between your shoulder and ear.

“why do you ask?”

wonwoo smiles, leaning against the tree in your backyard. it's almost the same age as you. he knows that. he also knows you live with your parents 'cause they want to protect their little girl from the world. and that you're all alone for tonight, and you share his taste for horror movies.

you move around the kitchen, occupied with the dish. “'could take you out on a date,” he suggests.

you roll your eyes with a scoff, but a small part of you wants to entertain the idea. the idea of going on a date with your digital fling for 3 months does sound enticing. you let the idea sink in as you stir the contents of the pot.

wonwoo groans when you lean your elbows on the counter, giving him a perfect view of your ass. the navy blue underwear, or is it black? he squints his eyes and looks closer. whatever it is, it has him rock-hard beneath his pants.

“did you stub a toe?” you ask with amusement to which he laughs. your visage changes when you realise what he could be doing on the other end. “wait, what are you doing?”

“what do you think i'm doing?” he smirks, watching you move off the counter and closer to the phone body. you twirl the coil cord with your fingers and bite your lip.

“I don't,” you take a deep breath, “know.”

he pulls a cotton underwear from his blazer pocket and presses it to his nose, inhaling your scent. his cock twitches with need, and he suppresses a groan. holding his wireless Nokia 6110 between his shoulder and ear, he undoes his jeans.

it's freezing cold outside, and the risk of mosquitoes is high, but he simply doesn't care. wonwoo pulls his cock out, hissing at the cold air biting his tip. he wraps his fingers around the base, lazily stroking it before wrapping his cock with your underwear that went missing a couple of days ago.

you're at a crossroad in the kitchen. a part of you basks in this debauchery, and the other knows that this very well could be some middle-aged pervert or some 12-year-old messing with you.

“you're so pretty, princess.” he grunts into the phone, hips bucking into his hand.

“you don't even know how I look like..” you trail off, lowkey turned on. wait no! he could be an old man, ew.

he chuckles, eyes darting towards your figure leaning back on the counter with your pouted lips and knitted eyebrows. “maybe..”

wonwoo presses your panties on his tip with his thumb, teasing his slit. his breath quickens and worry looms over your features at his silence.

“you don't know the things I want to do to you.”

you roll your eyes again with a sigh. “really? i wonder what it could be.” the boredom in your tone amuses him.

“I want you to sit on my face,”

a scandalised gasp erupts from your throat before acting nonchalant again. “oh yeah? what else, ghostface?” your breath falters, and your stomach flips. you don't even want to think about what's happening between your legs.

“I'd slowly kiss down your body and make you come undone in all ways.”

well, shit. your legs snap close and bite your lips to stop any embarrassing noises from spilling out. the logical part of you drowns in the wave of horniness that hits you. wonwoo doesn't wait for you to speak and continues.

“I want to strip you bare and make love to you.” his hand movements quicken when he sees you slip a hand down your panties. he sucks in oxygen like he's deprived of it. the cold bites at his skin and his breaths turn foggy, but the thought of you warms him from inside.

your thoughts muddle, and any common sense is thrown out the window when you feel your arousal sticking to your panties. you can't offer him many words, and it brings you embarrassment at how easily you fold. to keep up your facade, you scoff into the speaker but wait for him to speak up.

but the line disconnects, filling you with disappointment and wanting. you place the phone on the cradle and sit down on the floor. the disappointment doesn't deter you from touching yourself to the thoughts of him. you wonder how he sounds in real life and imagine him doing the things he spoke of.

your toes curl as you apply pressure to your clit, rubbing it incessantly. your other hand plays with your nipples, pinching and rolling them over your t-shirt. you try and try but can't climax. you pull out your hands with anger and annoyance.

burying your head in your knees, you think of blocking him but realise he's probably using *67. the hiss of the boiling snaps you back to reality, and you stand up in a hurry to look at the food. you groan, looking at the sad-looking dish staring back at you.

the telephone rings, piling up on your irritated state. “what?” you bark, teeth grinding and knuckles turning white.

“come outside,” a low voice tells you.

“what?” you repeat, softer this time. before the gears in your brain could turn, you find yourself at the front door, turning the knob. it feels like whiplash when your eyes land on the person outside.

“wonwoo? what are you doing here?”

now, why the hell was your ex-boyfriend at your door? and wait.. is he your ghostface?

the possibility—possibility? it's the fucking truth. he's the one who's been calling you anonymously for 3 months and filling the hole in your romantic life. the very hole that he left.

he looks the same—almost the same—but then you notice the faint ring of dark circles, the tiredness in his eyes, and, is that your panties hanging from his blazer pocket?

it doesn't take long for your pent-up emotions to flood your senses and suddenly, you're pulling him in, and locking your hands around his neck. you press your lips to his and let his hands wander your body.

“wonwoo, fuck!”

you throw your head back on the handrest and tug at his hair roots. his tongue laps at your cunt, and his nose brushes your clit as you lay fully bare on your couch. wonwoo’s grip on your hips holds you down while he slurps and sucks on your hole, tongue prodding inside every now and then.

his soft lips mold with your pussy lips, and his over-grown hair tickles your inner thigh. his hungry eyes meet yours before he pulls away with your fluids glistening on his skin. he ascends on you like a predator sizing up its prey. your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down.

the soft material of his t-shirt presses against your burning skin, and you feel cold without his warmth. “off,” you huff, tugging at the cloth. he obliges with a smile. soon he joins you on the couch, and feeling his bare skin on yours elicits a variety of emotions from you.

you’re ready to break down and cry but also have the urge to slap him along with the cauterizing need to have him inside you. he stills for a moment, silently looking for reassurance to go ahead. you tilt up your head, kissing him softly and breathing him in. you forgot how intimate it felt to share your breath with another.

wonwoo kisses your forehead and moves back, positioning himself between your legs. “condom?” you croak.

“I don’t have one.”

eyeing the hesitant look on your face, he continues. “I haven’t slept with anyone … after you.”

you crash your lips against his, tongue pushing past his lips. you moan wantonly, and the noises of wet kissing reverberate through your eardrums. you card your fingers through his lush black locks and tilt your head, kissing him deeper and slower.

your core pulsates as his hands rediscover your body. goosebumps rise on your skin when his thumb brushes against your hard nipple, and you shiver, feeling his cock on your thigh. you gasp for air, pulling away. his hands brush down your back to your ass, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

wonwoo leans back on the handrest, helping you to position on his cock. you sink down on his cock with his help. you moan in unison when you bottom out. his raw cock kissing your insides sends a flurry of tingles through your body.

you grind down to stimulate your clit. shameless moans escape your lips when he thrusts up, balls slapping against your ass. his hands make a home on your hips as he continues drilling his cock inside you. you throw your hands around his neck, pressing yourself against him. you don’t kiss him but place your lips close to his, and with every moan and whimper, your lips brush against his.

you lose yourself in pleasure, in the way his cock splits you open and in the way he sucks on your nipples. one of his hands moves down to rub your clit as he keeps sucking on your nipple. he moves to the other one, swirling his tongue around the bud.

your body trembles with stimulation, and you bounce on his cock harder, desperately chasing your high. wonwoo detaches from your tits to press a hot kiss against your lips. you moan against his lips, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten with each thrust.

his tip kisses your insides, and your arousal forms a creamy ring around the base of his cock. you're way too gone, lost in the warmth of his hands and the depth of his onyx eyes.

a certain thrust and the rubbing of his hand has you trembling above him. your legs give out, and you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“I can't—I,” wonwoo shushes you and repositions his hands on your ass, gripping it as he thrusts upwards into your cunt. the sheer force of his thrusts makes you whimper and dig your fingernails into his broad shoulders.

“wonu,” you draw out his name as your face contorts in pleasure.

“yes, princess?” the nickname never fails to fluster you, and the rich timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and chest.

“please, I want to—want to cum.”

he nibbles on your earlobe, wetting the skin with his tongue. “mhm. but bad girls don't get to cum.”

“bad girl?” you whimper, “but I didn't do anything!”

“y'sure, princess?”

“yes!”

“you started talking to a stranger on the phone. yes, it was me. but you weren't aware.” you whine when he slows his pace to a stop. you clench around his length, chasing for some friction.

“you started locking your windows. I thought you liked it when I used to climb into your room through your window—”

you cut him off, “you broke up with me for your stupid friends!”

“and.. I left it open for the first few days after you left...” your voice reduces to a whisper.

“I'm sorry, princess.” he starts. “but it seemed like you moved on with your little church boy,” he hisses through his teeth, voice lacing with venom.

“joshua is my friend.” you hiss back.

wonwoo clicks his tongue, hating the taste of his name on your tongue. the chances of you kicking him out if this keeps up are high. so he changes the topic.

“y'k how badly I wanted to climb into your room? to take off your blankets, and push aside your panty. you would like that wouldn't you?”

“for me to have my way with you while you're asleep? even if you wake up, you'll let me hit it like a slut, right?”

your pussy flutters around his cock and you whine, hitting his chest. wonwoo smirks and leans into your ear, “dirty, dirty princess.” his voice drops an octave.

“I was peeping on you all this time. you wore my shirts, princess? love me that much? hmm?”

you hide your face in his shoulders but feel his smile radiating through his voice. “fuck you.”

“you are,” he grips your hips, pulling out halfway before slamming his cock back in. your slick arousal drips down your thighs, uncomfortably. his cock stretches your gummy walls and the coil in your stomach tightens.

it's hard to adjust to his animalistic pace and you're overwhelmed. lust and passion clouds your senses and the coil snaps. the orgasm crashes over you and your lewd moans fill the room. your body trembles above his and you grip onto him for dear life.

your first orgasm in three months is mind-numbing. wonwoo continues to thrust, chasing his orgasm. he grunts when you violently clench around his length, forcing him to cum.

warm ropes of cum decorate your walls and the wet sounds of sex halts as he pulls you closer. he rests his forehead on yours, sharing his breath with you.

by the time you calm down, you're flooded with shame and the reality of what just happened. his arms and the sound of his heartbeat is no longer comforting. removing his arms around you, you stand up.

you hiss and clench your thighs at the ache between them. his essence drips out of your hole down your thighs, a reminder of what you just did.

wonwoo sits up, worry filling his system as he watches slip on your t-shirt and move away from the couch. he wants to say something, but what can he say? hey, sorry for leaving you and stalking you. 'think we can get back together?

he cringes at himself and watches helplessly as you move towards the vinyl record holder. you pull out a vinyl he recognises and place it on the player.

‘The Chain’ by Fleetwood Mac fills the room, and you walk back to the couch, sitting with space between you two. the soft strum of guitar and drums calms his nerves.

“why?” you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to look at him as you ask. he sighs and shifts a little closer, t-shirt covering his body and glasses back on. “I,” he sucks in a sharp breath.

“I had doubts about … us.”

“I didn't think we'd work out and my friends seemed to agree. I—I'm sorry.” he holds his gaze down with shame.

“it was stupid, i know. but I thought our differences won't work out.”

“how can you decide it before anything actually happens?” you bark at him, your heart clenches with frustration.

“I—”

‘and if you don't love me now, you will never love me again’

wonwoo cringes inwardly. who would have thought that the song he used to dance with you to would represent his life now? he cannot find words to express what he wants to say. two years of majoring in law and literature down the drain.

he simply moves closer till his thighs press against yours and leans his head on your shoulders. “did you only miss me for my body?”

“no!” his defense comes a bit stronger, and he hugs you closer. “no. it's not like that. I missed you.”

‘I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain’

you take his face in your hands, kissing his lips softly. but you break it as soon as your lips meet and drag him upstairs to your room. your grip on his tighter, harsher, like you're trying to prove a point.

wonwoo doesn't protest that he's naked and lets you drag him away. reaching your room, you pull him inside and show him the stacks of books lining your nightstand.

he adjusts his glasses and squints at the books. he saw you buying books and reading them almost every night. he wondered how your conservative parents suddenly allowed you to read books, let alone ... law books?

“law books. I fought with my parents and bought them, just so that we could talk about it because I don't know shit about law!”

you're sobbing, tears cascading down your cheeks, and he feels his heart skip a beat or two. his eyes dart towards the other books on your shelf, Sherlock Holmes and Kafka, his favorites too.

he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. he smiles at your faux protests and holds you softly.

wonwoo doesn't tell you but he has his own collection of Fleetwood Mac vinyl records lining up in his shelf. he bought Delta of Venus and A Spy in the House of Love, even though he doesn't like the vulgarity of the books you secretly read.

he holds you closer, and for anyone who looks into your windows, they'd only see the silhouette of a single person. your sobs quiet down, and he whispers soft apologies into your skin.

and wonwoo discovers that love is simple after all. love is reading Law and Kafka in your moonlit room filled with '60s rock music.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

#wonwoo #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo hard hours #wonwoo x reader

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nixie-deangel · 8 months ago

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@tgmsunmontue !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE!! (everyone should add this idea to their list though, lets get all the different versions of it we can hangster fandom!)

But yes, Jake's definitely ready for that next step in his life. He wants marriage and kids and he thought his FWB/situation-ship was starting something (until of course he gets told through text that they're done because they think they found something better).

So it's easy to let himself be talked into doing the calendar and win-a-date thing by Javy and Nat (who want their date nights back and to not see Jake doing his version of moping around their house) and Jake is honestly just hoping for a decent night to basically reset himself before he throughs himself into blind dates (he let himself agree to a set number of dates from his sisters, Javy and Nat) and then he walks into the restaurant and promptly trips over air because holy shit. holy fucking shit. the single hottest man sitting at the table.

and then he hears Bradley's voice as he bashfully introduces himself and Jake is just. gone. has checked out. wants to know everything about this man and is happy and charmed and besotted as he listens to Bradley ramble and ramble and ramble and Jake can't help but ensure the date continues as the restaurant closes down around them, by offering to go get ice cream or shakes or something to keep Bradley just a bit longer.

of course Bradley is all bashfully apologetic for taking up so much of Jake's time and talking his ear off as they walk out of the restaurant and is absolutely stunned when Jake insists on continuing on for a late night stroll and then more dessert and then back to Jake's place. and hey, Jake is offering breakfast after a fantastic night spent together and then breakfast leads to lunch and then a movie and all of a sudden the weekend has passed and they didn't even realize they literally spent it all together until Sunday night and they have to part because they both have work in the morning. but that's okay because Jake ensures they make plans as soon as they can because fuck, he's never felt like this before.

and Bradley? the same. he was so worried about the date and make a fool of himself and then ruining the date and everything but it's okay because now, after Jake and spending the whole weekend together, he gets his parents, their love for one another. a full believer in love at first sight now, because he's sure that's what happened with Jake.

(all of Bradley's patients are thrilled when he bashfully tells them about the date and spending whole weekend with Jake and how they set up several different dates already to keep spending even more time together!)

(Bradley's patients are Sereshaw's biggest supports, along with Nat and Javy)

I've been holding on to this one tight but I figured y'all deserve it

#hangster #nixie's story ideas #sereshaw #tgm #au #non navy pilot bradley #Jake seeing Bradley in an ill fitted suit: he's adorable. I NEED him carnally.#Jake seeing Bradley's absolutely ripped body out of close: I NEED him carnally but also I need him in ill fitting clothes because he's #fucking adorable like that #AND I NEED HIM BOTH WAYS #Jake just absolutely needing and wanting all versions of Bradley that he can get #not that these two don't fight and have issues #but they're softer here. in this. because there is no competition between them. so they find it easier to whisper wants and needs and dream #when they're wrapped up in one anothers arms #in each other's arms they feel like they can accomplish anything. everything. as long as the other is in their corner #they can do it all and everything.#top gun maverick #physical therapist bradley #fighter pilot jake

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covenofagatha · 6 months ago

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Nicky's mom has got it going on (Part 1)

You are best friends with Nicholas Scratch, and one day he invites you over to his house when his mom is there, and shit, you didn't realize his mom was so hot. Non-magical AU

Word count: 2100+

Warnings: 18+, allusions to smut, actual smut will be in later parts, mommy issues (duh)

“Got any plans tonight?” your best friend Nicky asks you, making easy conversation. You had been organizing books on the A-F fiction shelf at the Barnes & Noble at the mall, where you and Nicholas Scratch worked in your free time. You had met him through Westview University, where you both attended school. But when you both started working at the bookstore in the beginning of the year to make a little extra money, you two became fast friends.

“Not really. My parents are working late so I’m on my own. Probably just going to reheat leftovers and watch tv.” The campus was only twenty minutes away from your parents’ house, and ten away from his, so you both lived at home.

“You finished all the chem homework?” he asks, a teasing grin on his face. You’re both in the same Introduction to Chemistry class, with Ms. Dottie Jones. She was a stickler and gave out a packet of homework almost every day. It was everyone’s least favorite class.

You groan. Somehow you had forgotten, and it was due tomorrow. Looked like you had plans after all for the evening. “Fuck,” is all you say, Nicky laughing.

“I haven’t started it either. Want to come over and do it? I’m sure you could stay for dinner. My mom’s cooking and she can help with the homework.”

You smile, gracious for the offer. You had been over to his house a few times, but you hadn’t met his mom yet. You could use the company, and the help for sure. Chemistry was your worst subject, but Nicky was pretty good at it. Apparently his mom, Agatha Harkness, had a background in it, so she was always helping Nicky.

“That would be lovely, thank you. Do you want to go straight there after we get off?” You quickly check your watch. There’s still 45 minutes left in your shift.

“Yeah, that works. Let me text my mom and tell her that you’re coming over.”

“Will she mind?” The last thing you wanted to do was intrude. Nicky and his mom were incredibly close, as it was just the two of them, and according to Nicky, Agatha treasured the time she got to spend with him around her busy schedule. You hadn’t heard much about Nicky’s father and Agatha’s ex-husband, only that they had gotten divorced when Nicky was fourteen and was out of the picture.

“Not at all. She’s been dying to meet you.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking around to make sure no customers or your manager are nearby, and quickly types out a quick message. You make a mental note to text your parents when you finished your shift to let them know you were getting dinner with friends. They wouldn’t mind, plus you were sure you’d still be home before them.

“Thank you,” you say again, and get back to organizing the books.

***

You pull into the driveway, following Nicky’s car. Their house never fails to take your breath away. It’s a beautiful two story Victorian style house, with a steep roof, wrap-around porch, and large windows with paned glass. It’s almost Halloween, and clearly Nicky and his mom go all out. Inflatable ghosts, fake gravestones, pumpkins, and other decorations fill their giant yard and you can’t help but smile. Halloween is one of your favorite holidays, and this year Nicky’s mom was hosting a party for the neighborhood and you had been invited. Nicky leads you to the front door, unlocks it, and motions for you to go in first. The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon hits your nose and you inhale slowly. You can hear noises coming from the kitchen and you trail behind your friend as he leads you to the source.

In the kitchen, a woman is facing away from you, stirring something in a large pot on the stove. Her long, curly black hair tumbles down to her lower back and she is wearing a flannel with navy pants. On the island, you can see some candles flickering. So that’s where the smell was coming from.

“Mom, this is–” Nicky starts, but his mom whips around and exclaims, announcing your name before he even gets a chance.

Holy shit, is your first thought. Nicky’s mom is hot. Her long hair frames her pale face and her bright blue eyes trace you up and down. The top two buttons of her flannel are undone, so you can see her collarbones and a peek of the smooth skin of her chest.

“Oh, hi,” you stammer. “So nice to finally meet you.”

A wide smile overtakes her face and she sticks out a hand. It takes you a beat, but then you remember what you’re supposed to do. You take her hand and shake it, trying to ignore how soft her palm is.

“Nicky’s told me so much about you,” she gushes. “He clearly forgot to mention what a sight for sore eyes you are.” She playfully winks and you figure all the blood in your body has to have rushed to your cheeks, based on how hot they feel.

“Mom,” Nicky whines, shooting you an apologetic look. You let out an awkward chuckle, eyes darting back and forth between mom and son.

His mom waves a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m Agatha. Nicky said you guys are going to work on some homework. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help, and I’ll give you guys a shout when dinner is ready! Hope you like lamb stew.” Right on cue, your stomach rumbles and Agatha shoots you a smile. “Nicky, why don’t you get your friend a snack while I’m cooking?”

Nicky nods and rummages through the pantry. He grabs a box of cookies and you guys walk up to his room. You sit down at his desk and he flops onto his bed.

“Your mom is nice,” you say casually, trying not to give away how flustered you are because of her.

“She’s pretty cool. Alright, let’s get started. Last time I checked, the packet was eight pages and at least half are balancing equations.”

Ugh. That thought is enough to turn your attention from Agatha to the reality of the situation. You have a lot of homework to get done.

You have just gotten to the third page when Agatha pokes her head in. “How’s homework going?” she asks, and you and Nicky simultaneously groan. She walks over to you, stealing your paper and gently perching on the desk, which you’re sitting at. You struggle to remember how to breathe when her thigh brushes against your knee. “This one is wrong,” she says, pointing at number 13. “You have an extra oxygen on the left side.”

Nicky drops his head into the bed with a muffled swear. Agatha meets your eyes and smiles softly. Fuck, her mouth is pretty.

“Why don’t you take a break? Come downstairs and eat dinner and then we’ll work through this together,” she offers. She holds your homework back out to you and you take it, wondering if she slid her fingers across yours on purpose.

At the table, Agatha sits across from you and Nicky is to your right. She asks you all about college, your major, and what you want to do after.

“Have you guys decided what you’re wearing to the party next week?,” she then asks.

“I’m going to be a witch,” you answer, and you swear her eyes light up. “I ordered my costume last week so it should be here soon. Nicky still hasn’t figured out what he’s going as yet.”

Nicky scoffs in protest. “Hey! I’m narrowing it down between a pirate or a superhero. Also, mom loves witches so watch out.”

“Halloween is next week, dude, you better figure it out soon,” you tease and Agatha laughs.

“You tell him,” she says and the two of you share a grin.

“Whatever. I’m going to the bathroom,” Nicky says, standing up and pushing in his chair.

There is a moment of silence as you and Agatha eat some stew. Then she says, “So, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?”

You almost drop your spoon back in the bowl. Is she–no. She is probably trying to get a feel of yours and Nicky’s relationship. “Um, no. I’m actually gay,” you say, finding the stew suddenly incredibly interesting. After Agatha is silent for a few seconds, you look up at her to find a smirk stretched across her face, eyes looking darker than they were.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Her voice is low and you swallow hard, begging the fire in your stomach to die down. This is Nicky’s mom. Nicky’s incredibly attractive mom whose hands, at the moment, you desperately wanted to feel tracing your body. Sliding over your lips, maybe even around your throat. Fuck.

“No,” you say, barely above a whisper. “There’s really no girls in school that I’m interested in.”

Agatha opens her mouth, ready to say something, and you preemptively lean closer, but at that moment, Nicky walks back in and sits down next to you, completely oblivious to your flushed face and his mom’s look of…disappointment?

No. You are clearly just reading into things. Nicky’s mom, who is much older than you are, does not want you.

She’s just being nice, and you are being insane.

You really need to get your mommy issues under control.

Agatha clears her throat. “So, how’s working at the bookstore going?”

“It’s pretty good. Nicky definitely makes the shifts go by faster,” you say, turning to look at him appreciatively. “Except for tomorrow, because someone has to do a group project for their sociology class and can’t work.” The glare you gave Nicky is playful and he snickers.

“So sorry. I’d honestly rather be at work. My group sucks. I honestly wonder how one of the people made it into college,” he says. You agree. You’ve done a fair share of group projects already for some of your classes, and it is often a struggle.

You look back at Agatha, but she doesn’t say anything. The rest of dinner passes quickly, and soon it’s time to get back to homework.

You and Nicky decide to move downstairs so Agatha can help. She’s talking quickly, gesturing down at your paper, but you’re too busy staring at her lips to actually understand what she’s saying. Which is totally fine, until she asks you a question.

“Sorry?” is all you can say, internally cursing for looking like an idiot. She doesn’t look disappointed. Instead, it almost looks like she knows why you’re so distracted. She repeats it slowly, something about if there’s six oxygens on the left side, how many carbon dioxides do we need on the right side. “Three?” you say, sort of guessing.

“Good girl,” she says approvingly, in that raspy voice of hers, and you honest-to-god clench around nothing. You can literally feel yourself getting wetter by the second. And then she moves onto the next question like she didn’t just say that.

It’s almost ten thirty at night by the time you finish your homework and you stand up with a yawn.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Agatha asks. “You can stay in the guest room, I’m sure I can find some clothes for you to wear.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” you say, and she immediately shakes her head.

“You won’t be at all. Come on,” she insists, and you glance at Nicky before she pulls you after her up the stairs. She leads you into her bedroom and lets go of you to walk into her closet and you take the opportunity to look around her room.

Her bed is neatly made, with a cream duvet and a dark, wooden headboard. Her nightstand is the same colored wood and there’s a framed picture of her and Nicky from probably ten years ago. A fireplace is tucked into the corner and dark purple curtains cover the windows.

“Here you go. These should fit. There should be extra toothbrushes and toothpaste in the guest bathroom. If you need anything else, just let me know,” Agatha says, handing you a pile of clothes. “Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You’re too flustered to say anything back so you give her a smile and make your way to the guest room. It’s right by Nicky’s room, so you stop in to say good night and then you text your parents that you’re spending the night at a friend’s house.

The pajamas Agatha gave you – if you can even call them that – slide right onto your body. It’s a silky purple nightie with a black robe and it hugs your curves in all the right places. You look hot and for a second, you think about going to see Agatha again. Just to thank her, you tell yourself unconvincingly.

But you make yourself brush your teeth and get into bed, feeling the wetness still between your thighs.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x you #agatha all along #covsfics

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bywons · 1 year ago

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୨୧ KISS IT BETTER — n. riki

pairing. badboy!nishimura riki x f!reader w.c. 0.8k tw/cw. mentions of fighting, nicknames, kissing genre. highschool au, non idol au, fluff feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

sru's note! niki my cutest boy >.<

m.list ⏐ requests are open! ⏐ navi

the youngster winces at the cool sensation of ice against the fresh bruise, blooming red and blue under his skin.

but what's hurting him even more than the burning bruise on his left cheek, are the eyes of the girl pressing an ice pack to it. your reddening hurt eyes, brimming with tears which are threatening to spill onto your flushed cheeks, a result of crying earlier.

but the reason? nishimura riki, your boyfriend, showing up with bruises and cuts all over for the third time this week at your favourite rendezvous point— behind the small cozy bungalow of the old 'cat lady' in town, who almost never came out.

"you promised riki", your voice shakes, the delicate heart of yours no longer being able to withstand the sight of your lover's wounds and gloomy expression, "then why?"

"ya won't get it princess", riki breathes out the nickname for you so smoothly, utterly believing at the complete vanishing of your subdued anger.

but instead a gasp leaves riki's mouth at the sudden absence of the cool, relaxing and alleviating sensation from the sore bruise. riki's frown deepens and a cute pout forms on his tough face when he lifts his head to look at you.

"i won't get it? i won't get it?!", you scoff at his words and abruptly remove the ice pack from his bruise, "how do you expect me to not get it when the bruises are basically 'cause of me!"

"don't you blame yourself now!", riki's fast to get protective, even if it means to protect you from yourself.

however, you weren't entirely wrong, as everyone who mocked or insulted you for any reason was forced to smile and greet you after riki entered your life-frame. their change, while good, was involuntary on their part. nishimura riki was the main change brought in.

he'd often get his knuckles bruised and crimson, not hesitating to land punches on faces you didn't like. riki was known around the school campus for being reckless as heck, he knew it too, so doubtlessly he didn't mind adding the point, "protecting my girlfriend", to his list of becoming even more reckless.

but he forgets that he's getting punched back, getting wounded up too just to make his girl sweat.

"riki", the way his name slips out of your kissable lips and the way it sounds so dulcet, but it repels your glossy eyes and a frown full of worry.

and riki's heart aches again.

"y'know i hate seeing you like this! y'know i don't like you getting hurt," the ice pack falls on your lap with a sigh leaving your mouth.

"it's only for your good, love. don't like those people near you—"

"they've stopped hurting me riki!", you sigh again, placing your hand ever so softly on his cheek, "you've done enough for me."

"hmmm", riki hums in relaxation and melts into your touch, tilting his head onto your hands, secretly wishing your touch would linger around forever.

"it still kinda burns", riki pouts, pointing towards his bruise on his cheek still crimson and puffy, "kiss it better?"

despite of dating the boy for nearly a year now, he's always catching you off guard, even with his immense love for you. like right now, when he decides to sacrifice his already worn out school trousers to the dusty earth covered by dry birches leaves, without hesitation. riki makes you sit above it though, upon a makeshift chair out of an unfinished wooden rack in the backyard.

it was moments like this when a genuine smile played on your lips, and you know riki's the one.

with a shy smile and coloured cheeks, you lean down to your boyfriend sitting on the ground, to press a feathery kiss to his bruise and heal in some magical way for him.

you pull away quickly worried that if you press your lips any harder, it may hurt him.

"now this one?", riki smirks, pointing to another bruise painting his skin purple. this one dangerously close to his lips, lying on the corners.

"you cheeky!", it's refreshing for riki to see you giggle again, the dry tear-stricken cheeks of yours elevating to laugh.

you lean down, this time cupping his soft face and bringing it closer to you. and just when your plump lips brush against the corner of his, riki moves his face in a way that his lips meet yours. into a sudden, yet endearing kiss.

your eyes widen after the kiss, shocked eyes meeting riki's proud and smug ones.

"promise me", you whisper as your eyes travel around the recent and previous marks and cuts on rikis face, "you'll never fight again."

"can't promise something like that angel," riki scoffs, taking your hands in his, and softly pressing his lips against your knuckles.

"hey riki—!"

"but that's alright, you'll kiss it better every time, yeah?"

taglist: open! CLICK ON THE LINK TO BE ADDED!

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from-m-izzy · 1 year ago

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diving in | tbz eric sohn

“you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

pairing » the boyz eric sohn x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship, non-idol au!

genre » smut 18+ (PLEASE MDNI!!) 🔞 (kinda) surfer eric, some fluff

word count; estimated reading time » 1970; ~8 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » dom!eric, sub!reader, public sex (on a surfboard in the ocean, quite far away from the rest of the crowd), praising (reader receiving), dirty talk (not explicit), begging (reader to eric), pet name (baby girl, pretty girl), nickname (buff puppy; reader to eric), fingering (reader receiving), marking and kisses on skin (reader receiving), reader has medium-long hair, reader wears a bikini, eric is shirtless, eric and reader are the same height, eric implied to have a bigger build, orgasm denial (once), cum tasting (eric to reader)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday bubba @mosviqu 🥰 just a little something for you 🫂 thank you for proofreading and helping with warnings last minute @sanaxo-o 🥰

In between your chaotic university schedule and unhelpful teammates in your group work, came Eric's idea to take a day at the beach. You're more than enlightened at the idea, already sorting the day's wardrobe in your head.

Now, the toasted sand tickles between the crevices and around your bare feet, but you don't flinch, feeling your muscles relax instead. Your exposed stomach and back bask in the sun, delightful at the kiss from the sun. Eric walks beside you, his right hand protectively landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him; reminding the others around you to stop looking at your lower cheeks and upper chest which makes him scowl.

"You're looking hot but I hate how others can see you like this." Tucking his hand on the aide waistband on your bottoms and letting the material slap your skin.

You raise an eyebrow at him, your head dipping and rising at his exposed chest, "Speak for yourself, you buff puppy."

There and then comes Eric's light and golden smile that had you since day one, that only seemed all the more attractive with the limited skin contact that you share due to your light blue bikini and his pink swimmers. For Eric, it's the fact that the sight of you like this makes him want to take you right then and there, but he needed to stay civil in the public place.

You made your temporary post in the crowded space, spreading your beach towel and your belongings under the beach umbrella that you recently bought. Eric sticks his surfboard onto the sand next to where you would be sitting, creating more walls from the setting yet still scorching sun. You both settle in, popping off the cap of your sunscreen.

"Need help?" Knowing well enough that you will accept it.

A generous amount is applied to his palm and Eric guides you to sit between his spread legs as he begins applying the lotion starting from your shoulders and along your spine. You should've known that he was plotting something for even though you couldn't see the spreading grin on his face, his hands did all the talking. From the curve of your shoulder, coming to curve to your chest.

Slightly turning your head around, you shoot him a raised eyebrow but he feigns a straight face. His fingers go beneath the shoulder strap, following the line to your breasts. At least, you thought he would be groping you over the clothing but were proved wrong when your hardened buds were between his fingers that swiped and tugged making your back straighten.

"E-Eric---" Looking around at the oblivious children and parents. You couldn't help but squirm into him, the tip of his finger now circling your sensitive buds.

A hand flies to cover your mouth and Eric only shoots you a smile at the way your lips tremble in pleasure. "Good girl." Oh, he's crazy to call you that in public. "Looking all pretty for me."

"Oh..." His fingers tap teasingly towards your clothed mound, making your legs close instinctively. Eric clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval, to which you shakily open your shaking legs once more to him. You know where this is going and you should probably keep some public dignity but how could you when the length of his fingers covers your slit, brushing you in an upwards motion, proud of the dampening fabric that he's created?

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, gasping for the air above. The whimpers that you let out are now clearer and closer to your boyfriend’s ears and once again, it takes Eric everything to not turn you around, tug both your underwear down and guide your surely pooling arousal around his hardening part.

But he’s got better ideas than what you both usually do behind closed doors. The fact that you’re gripping onto his forearm, gasping for air and his touch despite only having a minimal amount of coverage to the world around you makes the idea in his head all the more interesting to try. Without another word, Eric retracts his arm, scooting backwards before standing up.

Your furrowed eyebrows contrasted with the cute jut of your lower lip as your head turned, eyes following to see him retrieve his surfboard from the sand, tucking it below his arm. Eric winks at you and before you can protest your disappointment about the building orgasm, he crouches eye level with you, stealing a peck from your lips.

“Come on,” he tilts his head towards the body of water, “you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

You couldn't see through that mischievous smirk and that annoyingly charming wink sent once again. Even though you rolled your eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, he knew that you would accept the hand that he has put out for you. Just like before, his fingers curve around the side of your waist, the surfboard from before under his arm as you both make your way to the crowded ocean.

At first, everything is civil. You both cupped your hands together to splash the salty liquid on each other’s faces, innocent and beaming in the summer. Eric would use the board as a barrier from your attacks and in turn, you would shout at how unfair he was being in the fight. The cooling water around you and the way the sand below you would most probably get between your feet when you walk back. The particles of sand would also be around your body, stuck between the gap between your bikini and your skin. But it’s fun and spending this time to just forget about your priorities is great, especially when you can do it with the love of your life.

It’s true when people say time passes by fast when you have fun for with each passing splash to each other’s faces, the sun sets and the temperature drops even more, and Eric’s love and warmth for you becomes all the more evident. As you have fun together, you’ve reached a part of the area where it’s more secluded. The laughter of the families, squealing children and somewhat worried parents were quite a distance---it’s enough for you both to be moderately loud together; whatever those noises may be from. Eric pulls his body onto the floating board, legs straddling on each side, eyes forward towards the horizon and sunset. You gazed up at him with adoration, resting your arm onto the unoccupied part of the board as you gaze at the scene too.

He admires the scenery in front of him, alternating between that and you next to him still in the water. You're left still in the water until he acknowledges you once more with a kiss, slotting his lips between yours. His thumb and index trap your chin, controlling the flow of the kiss. Eric smiles at the swipes of his tongue that would make your eyes slightly roll back. Your hands grip his thigh, slightly pushing him down in an attempt to dive into the kiss further. To the shaky movement, Eric tightens his hold on your chin, separating your wet lips with an innocent shake of his head.

“Don’t make me fall, baby girl,” He warns you softly. “Come here.” He pats on the board in front of him, instructing you to get on the board with minimal movement.

Because of your lack of experience with the surfboard and everything about surfing, it was a little bit of a struggle to get on the rocky surface. The natural waves didn’t help you either. But Eric’s skilful balancing skills, tilting his upper body to the opposite side of the board of where you are to maintain his drying hair eventually made you both succeed in sitting together to watch the sunset in his arms. With his hands on your waist, he pulls you and himself closer, loving the feeling of your exposed back on his defined chest.

You exhale at the feeling, leaning and putting your weight onto him. To be honest, you could fall asleep to the sound of the waves, Eric’s humming and the way his thumb caress your skin. But Eric did not want you to fall asleep---he wanted the opposite of your snores and relaxed brain. His hands start to trail down, following the downward curve of your thigh, again towards your core that you couldn’t tell if it was your arousal or the sea. You gasp at how he didn’t bother to tease you from above your underwear, tugging cloth to one side, inserting one finger straight into your pooling hole.

“You can be louder,” he encourages the whiny moans that you started to voice, “They’re all away from us.” Referring to earlier when you were in a ‘more’ crowded place.

Eric made use of his mouth, opened lips landing on the area between your neck and your shoulder. He makes his mark along the slide, sucking open-mouthed kisses while his fingers start to increase the pace, driving you to your wave. Your thighs start shaking, just like your ragged breaths and the slight thrashing of your head resting laid on his shoulder. Just like he wants, your voice becomes louder, not only because you’re right next to him but because you’re starting to not care about the setting you’re in.

“Keep still,” he reminds you of the uneven surface, “if you keep moving so harshly, you won’t be able to cum.” With this, his hand that has tugged your underwear away lets go and the elastic slaps to his retracting hand increase its pace and stretch your hole as he inserts another finger.

Your hands grip his wrists, hazy eyes gazing down to see the trembling of your thighs that have started to grip the blue board as you feel the increase of your release building up. Eric syncs your moans to the plunging of his fingers inside you. The tip of his fingers reaches your sweet spot, hitting that spot each time to leave you all the more breathless. Another finger is inserted and you can’t help but lean almost all your weight onto Eric now, losing your mind at how Eric constantly hits the spot that he knows all too well.

“Faster,” you beg to compensate for the orgasm he took away from you earlier. “Please don’t stop.”

Eric complied with your request, turning his head towards the crook of your neck and littering soft small kisses to the back of your ear. Each time he pulls away from another peck comes another encouraging praise from all the “You’re taking me so well” to the “My pretty girl” to the dirtier words that encourage to finally coat his fingers with a layer of you. He didn’t stop at your orgasm, letting the surge of relief travel all over your body, only beginning to slow down when your breathing normalises.

Eric’s gaze on your side profile is adoring, his hand coming back to cover your spent core. His face comes up to nudge and trace along your jawline and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You alright?”

You chuckle back, turning your head to nudge your nose against his, “Yeah. You?” He nods and kisses you still with a wide smile. “Amazing balance you have here, Mr Sohn.”

“I know,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “I am amazing.”

You couldn’t argue with that statement. Eric Sohn is the love of your life after all.

“You know what else is amazing?” You raise an eyebrow at the question. Eric gives that mischievous smirk again, lifting the three fingers that made you gasp for air a few minutes ago, “Open up.”

Diving in once more.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

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ilium-ilia · 1 month ago

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As Your Skin Gives

ghoap x fem!reader | pet!au | masterlist

Chapter Six: a trophy of bone

tw: non-con, unrealistic anal, heavy whump

The only scrap of clothing you have clinging to your body as you lay on Simon and Johnny’s bed is your collar.

Somehow, you feel more naked with it on than you ever did with it off. Nothing but a beacon, drawing attention to the most vulnerable, soft part of you. It’s a degrading reminder that your body no longer belongs to you—a proof of ownership to a man who can hardly seem to stand your mere existence. Something to mark you as what you are; a pet, an animal, swine waiting for the slaughter.

Your fingers ghost over the leather and you feel it bob with your throat as you swallow. Something sparks through you as the urge to rip it off tingles in your palms. It’s strong. You want to tear through it and rid yourself of the incessant reminder that you’re trapped. It would be so easy for you to undo the clasp and toss it into some forgotten corner where you’ll never have to worry or think about it again—but you don’t. No, there is very little you can do besides lay there—rigid, fawning—when you have two hulking figures between your open legs.

The fact that you are not the only one naked ought to give you nominal reprieve, but instead it only makes your stomach sore. It twists in on itself as you look up, Johnny’s bare body on display like Michelagelo’s statues. His clothes were ripped from his body with the same urgency as yours were, and you try not to shiver at the sight of his hardened cock hanging between his legs. His leaky, puffy tip bounces. He throbs. It yearns for something soft to bury itself in. You’ve seen it plenty of times before, but it never gets easier. Not like this, with Simon behind him on his haunches, fully clothed, bored eyes flickering back and forth between the side of Johnny’s face and your exposed body.

Scenarios begin to tear through your mind, and your stomach plummets through the floor. Johnny has had his fun with you plenty of times over the last few weeks, but it’s never been anything as formal as this. A proper fuck. Manacles to bind you. Every time he’s put his hands on you, it’s been a spur of the moment. Something he does when he can no longer hold his hunger a bay. Tearing you apart like a sacrifice.

“She’s so pretty,” Johnny beams, body shuddering.

Simon’s hands trace along the man’s waist where they slide to the front of his chest, then dip down to the thick, dark patch of hair at the base of his cock. For hands as large, brutish, and scarred as his, his touch looks light. Delicate, even. Nails scraping across fresh snow just enough to feel, but not enough to mar. Johnny jumps in excitement as he wraps a fist around him, and begins to lazily tug at his shaft, purposefully ignoring his needy, florid tip.

“That so?” Simon challenges. His lips brush against Johnny’s ear, and you watch as those deep navy eyes roll slightly into the back of his head, eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings. You squirm at the sight as a deep shame eats at your chest—you are a product, a show to be enjoyed—but you know better than to move too much around sight-based hunters. “Like havin’ a soft toy to play with? Somethin’ to sink your pathetic cock into? Bet you wanna fuck ‘er right now, yeah?”

Johnny nods, lips parting. “Aye, I really do.”

“Yeah, needy fuckin’ mutt. Go on. Play with ‘er a bit, but keep this fuckin’ cock dry, yeah? Get yourself nice and worked up f’me,” Simon orders.

Ardent eyes blink down at you as Simon free’s Johnny’s cock from his hand, and the man descends upon you like a ravenous plague. A squeak leaves you without permission when his lips crash against yours with enough force to knock your teeth out, and your whole body jumps as he paws at your chest. Your tits are sore from weeks of abuse, and you can’t help but whimper into his mouth as his fingers contract and relax over and over, rolling the soft flesh between his hands.

This isn’t anything new. You know very well how to play this game—a waiting game. Hunkered down in the basement, waiting for a storm to blow over as thunder claps against your lips and lightning cracks along your skin. You think of your old job bartending. Anything to get away from the present. How to make an old fashioned? How many seconds does it take to fill a pint? You try to recall the acrid taste of the pub, and the way condensation glistens on the bartop. Usually, this works. Usually, it’s enough to keep you distracted.

It isn’t tonight, though. Not with those dark eyes peering from behind Johnny, murky and menacing. As the dog gets to work giving love bites to the underside of your jaw, you make the terrible mistake of glancing at Simon. He’s got one hand on the small of Johnny’s back like it’s the only way he can keep the man leashed, and the other is pawing at his own cock through the thick fabric of his jeans. You can make out the clear, meaty outline of it, and you find yourself silently praying that his eyes don’t wander too far from Johnny.

You’re certain Simon would break you if he ever decided to fuck you himself.

“Ow!”

Your yelp is sudden and piercing as pain blossoms in your left nipple. It ebbs and flows with your pulse, as if the sting is supposed to be a reminder that you’re still alive. Still breathing. Johnny leans back in astonishment, as if he can’t piece together why him pinching and yanking on your nipple would ever rouse such a reaction from you, but then he does it again, this time to the right. You squeal once more, hands wandering, moving to cup your breasts, hoping to deter him from antagonizing you further.

“Johnny! Stop!” you whine.

“Do that again,” he says, pupils blown wide.

You squeeze your chest more as if you can fold your body in on itself and vanish completely. Blinking, you attempt to process his request, but all you can muster is a puzzled look.

“Say my name again,” he clarifies, voice darker and more husky than you’ve ever heard it before.

Humiliation courses through your body. Red hot. Superheated metal. Internal scars that swell beneath your skin, blisters that threaten to pop. Your bottom lip trembles as you writhe under his gaze. This is easier when you don’t have to participate. When you can just lay there and take the abuse and pretend it doesn’t exist. There’s a special kind of hurt to be found in the way he’s trying to torture you now. Simon’s eyes meet yours from over Johnny’s shoulder, and you try your best to keep your composure, lest he get upset at you for keeping his adored pet waiting.

“Johnny…” you mumble, heart hardly into the performance.

For a moment, you fear that your act is too forced. Something so faux that even Johnny’s slow, muddled brain can see through. It’s not satisfying enough. Instead, he groans as he descends on you again, tongue lavashing over your breasts and chest bone as he pushes back against Simon, ass against his clothed cock, lips gliding lower and lower on your abdomen.

“Goddamn angel. Sound so sweet saying my name. You’re perfect. So perfect, Bonnie,” he groans against your skin. “I’ll fuck you good and proper one of these days. As soon as Simon lets me, I promise. For now… just… let me have this.”

Whatever question you have bubbling up in your throat gets smothered with a gasp as Johnny’s mouth lands on your cunt. A hot, wet tongue laps at you, sliding all the way from your clenching hole to your clit. It doesn’t feel good. It’s messy and disgusting, yet he laments at the taste of you. His lips and tongue work in tandem. Not for your pleasure, but for his. Muted sensations rumble between your legs, but nothing’s connecting. All the wires are cut, but Johnny’s still trying to send signals through anyway.

Everything he does to you—suck on your clit, hold your hips with bruising grip—all feels searing. It’s torching your skin, melting you into mush, because if you cannot feel pleasure, then you can certainly feel pain. It’s one after the other. Lash after lash. Wound stretching over wound until you are nothing more than a rotting gash.

Things only get worse when you realize Simon’s grunts are sounding in terrible cacophony with Johnny’s Once more, you make the mistake of glancing up at him, and you see that he’s now got his own cock in his hand, lazily pumping it. It’s thick like blood and terrifying like cold steel against tender flesh—something that fits the brutish and colossal nature of your captor. You glance away, turning your head as you attempt to down everything out.

Just pretend, just pretend, just pretend…

Suddenly, it all ceases. Simon pulls Johnny back by his collar, forcing his mouth off of your cunt with a wet pop before he’s pushing him face first into your chest. Lips wet from spit and what minimal amount of arousal he was able to rip from you smears against your tits as the poor dog pants.

“Plan on eatin’ her alive, Johnny?” Simon goads.

He chuckles and nuzzles your chest as if he’s trying to get underneath your skin. There’s something about his laughter that almost makes him seem more human than the dog Simon tries to force him to be. Whatever it is, it makes your heart lurch, but it doesn’t tug on it enough for you to forgive him. You bite into your lip as your arms wrap around his neck, searching for a stability you don’t think you’re going to find, yet so desperately crave.

“Oh, I’d like to,” Johnny coos.

All Simon does is hum as he reaches around the man. You jolt when his hand brushes against your inner thigh, and he shoots you a glare in warning before pushing your leg back, spreading you wide. Trepidation hangs so thick in the air you nearly choke on it as you helplessly feel his fingers brush against your sex. Soon, it’s no longer a gentle brush, but a forceful intrusion as he dips them into your cunt.

“Wait, no, no, no-” Pathetic. A sad Attempt. Simon persists anyway.

Johnny’s spit allows him to enter you with little protest, but it does nothing to ease the burn that ails you as Simon’s thick fingers split you open. Your eyes screw shut in discomfort as you do your best to hold back a sob, but you feel it brew. Steam in the back of your throat, pressure in your eyes, nettling until they water.

Instead of pumping in and out of you, his fingers dance as if looking for something inside of you, all but tearing you apart in the process. They churn, scrape, and claw. Razor sharp nails. A beast tearing you apart. He does not care to draw out moans or other sounds from you—he cares only to aid himself. The heat of the burn that ravages your cunt forces your skin to perspire, and your vision begins to tunnel.

Your only saving grace is that Simon finally seems to have found what he was looking for, and he yanks his fingers out of you with little concern for your body. Tense muscles flutter as you try to force yourself to relax, to calm your tendons before they snap free from bone. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, you can make out the wet, gooey sheen on Simon’s fingers as he turns his attention to Johnny.

The man whimpers into your skin as Simon wipes the sloppy mess around the tight ring of his ass, not stopping until there’s proper lubrication. Strong arms snake underneath your back where needy fingers hold onto your shoulders. You are a log. A rock. A comforting toy. The only thing grounding Johnny.

All you can do is close your eyes and pray that it’s quick.

“Been a long while since I last fucked you, yeah?” Simon teases, fingers still taunting Johnny’s needy hole. “Look acth’ya, puckerin’ around nothin’ like a dirty fuckin’ mutt. Gonna be a good boy and beg? C’mon, you used to beg for this cock all the time. Go on. Beg.”

Johnny’s body trembles with want, and it rings throughout your own, numbing your senses and rendering you useless. His nose nuzzles into your breast bone before he turns and rests the side of his head just above your heart. You wonder if he can hear the muscle trying to tear itself apart with how fast it’s beating.

“Please, Simon. I’ve been a good boy,” Johnny whines. Something sordid pulls at your chest. Gnarly fingers push through your ribcage, filling you deep where there is no room to be swallowed. “I need it, need it so bad. Missed you so goddamn much, I just… f-fuck, yes, fucking christ, thank you, thank you.”

As Simon presses into Johnny, the weight on your chest grows heavier to the point of suffocation. Desperate hands grab at your shoulders, and you force yourself to stay quiet and take it. Whimpers sear into your skin as Simon keeps going, and going, and going until he bottoms out, and for once, Johnny finally seems content. Praises and gratitude fall from his lips like broken prayers as his body rocks against yours like a poorly tethered boat. There is little remorse for Johnny as he’s split apart, speared wide and open, but he seems to enjoy the burn more than you ever could.

You don’t dare to peek over him. All you can do is screw your eyes shut tight as you bury your face into the overgrown strands of his mohawk.

“Such a tight fuckin’ arse. You really are a pathetic mutt, aren’cha?” Simon shames. Despite his harsh tone—words that slice through even the thickest bone—Johnny gasps in confirmation. “Gonna be a good boy ‘n take it then, yeah? Go on. Tell your precious Bonnie how good this cock is makin’ you feel.”

And he does, like the obedient animal he is, but you don’t hear any of it. You feel the rocking of your body as Simon’s speed picks up, and the slick sweat that builds between your bodies, but you’re too far away for Johnny’s words to reach your ears.

Right now, you’re back in that old pub. Nicotine permeates every pore of that building, and it seeps into your skin in the tenebrous room—you know you’ll have to shower to rid yourself of the stench eventually. You’re wiping down tables and filling hoppy drinks. The sourness of the alcohol and acidity of the cleaner assaults your nose even in your daydreams, and you feel your stomach twist at the scent. Dull music thrums somewhere on your left, and someone’s waving at you so they can pay their tab.

That pub had been nothing but a prison to you before, but now you can’t help but hate it even more. Would you have ended up here, underneath two brutish men, had you gotten that job you interviewed for? Did you ever even have a chance at roaming among marble halls, or was the outcome always destined to be this way? Teeth ache in your mouth as your jaw clenches at the memory of your attempt at escaping that life. So smart, but not smart enough—always one step behind what everyone else is asking from you; docile. A flighty bird.

You wonder what your mother is thinking about right now.

Sharp nails rake across your skin, and you’re pulled out of your daydream. Cold water against your face, ice on your flesh, Johnny’s weight leaves you as he’s ripped from your arms. Angry streaks and broken skin are left behind in his wake, and you try your best not to cry out. Tears blur your vision as you finally open your eyes to see Simon yanking Johnny back against him by his collar.

Desperate hands claw at the leather as the sounds of pain and pleasure culminate in his throat as Simon tugs at Johnny’s cock with vicious strokes. You can do nothing but lay there and watch in abject horror as Johnny’s cum spurts from the tip of his cock and coats the length of your stomach and chest. It’s a warm, sticky mess that has you grimacing as it mixes with the lingering perspiration on your skin, yet you know better than to voice your discomfort.

“There he is,” Simon grunts. “Makin’ a goddamn mess all over my hand. A mess of your favorite toy too, hmm?”

Johnny is lost. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, body shuddering—Simon doesn’t let up. Cock pumping into him, hips slapping against his rump, thighs clenching; there is no regard for the whining that emanates from his favorite pup. All the dog can do is mindlessly babble.

“What? You thought that just because you are done that I’m done with ya? C’mon, Johnny, you know better than that. Now, be a good boy and fuckin’ take it.”

Electric blue eyes find you in the numbra of the bedroom before they roll back into his head. There’s grunting, hot air wafting through the room—growling. Animalistic howling from the only person not wearing a collar. It’s enough to get you to hold your breath, body freezing, preparing for an attack—a mauling.

When Simon finishes, he does so with another feral grunt and a final thrust into Johnny, cock buried deep inside of him. A cacophony of appreciative remarks fall from Johnny like a strained prayer to a deaf god that’s been long dead, and he’s pumped full of all his would-be-lover’s spend. It’s over, but you aren’t comforted. Tears overflow from your eyes, streaming down your face, burning your flesh as it traverses and collects around your collar. You are sullied—ruined.

“Filthy thing. Spoiled rotten, you are,” Simon growls as Johnny begins to gag. “Completely spent and still wantin’ more.”

Blinking away your tears, you look up to see Simon shoving his cum-coated fingers down Johnny’s throat. He chokes as unloving nails scrape against his tongue, and still he devours it like dessert. His devotion to a beast such as Simon is infuriating in a complicated way. It sends a tingle up your spine. Something bone chilling—it only gets worse when Simon’s gaze lands on you.

He doesn’t speak a word as he yanks his fingers out of Johnny’s mouth and pushes his face towards your body. A flinch echoes throughout the cords of your muscles, preparing to be bitten by the brainwashed mutt, yet no such pain blossoms on your skin.

“We’re done playin’ for now. Clean up your fuckin’ toy,” Simon barks.

Obedient. Eager. Johnny’s tongue lulls out of his mouth without a second thought before he licks a line along your abdomen. It’s just as warm and wet as it was when he was lapping at your cunt, and still it makes you squirm. He laughs at the way you tremble under him, and it sounds more like a pant as he washes away the reminder of his cum, consuming it without complaint.

Licking quickly turns into kissing once he’s finished, and he starts to nibble on your neck as he settles his body weight onto you. A still needy and half hard cock presses against your thigh as he nuzzles you, leg wrapped around your body, keeping you attached to him like a vice. Sticky warmth seeps through the pores of your skin, and you are so painfully trapped in this moment with a spinning head and an aching cunt.

You are the complete opposite of clean. You are ruined—disgusting, indignified, desecrated. That filth only rouses and festers as Simon begins to shove himself back into his pants, umber gaze trained on you with the same morbid curiosity someone would spare a bug. You are not human. You have never been human. You’re an imitation of flesh, a bird with clipped wings, a song with no melody—you have become everything you ever feared of being:

A catalyst. Food for the greedy.

A trophy of bone.

“What are you crying for?”

Johnny’s lips are on you again, smothering away each fat tear that rolls down your cheeks. He fakes his concern for you so well, it can almost be confused for love.

“I know, you’ll get your turn too. I promise, Bonnie. I always keep my promises, you’ll see,” Johnny assures you as he licks the salt off of his lips.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

But there is no room for fear. Not as Johnny settles against your back, tucking you into him like a prized possession. Not as Simon turns off the bedside lamp and plunges the room into darkness. There is only one thought that consumes your mind as both men begin to snore—survive. One day, something will save you; be it yourself, or anyone else—

—be it death.

For now, you’ll just have to get used to being devoured whole.

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates | get early access to chapters here (tentative of patreon tos)

#ilium writing #sr ilia #jm ilia #pet!au #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #female reader

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arafilez · 1 month ago

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RAINDROPS AND SECOND CHANCES ㅤ — ﹙ L.MH ﹚

MAYBE putting you two on the same project ㅤ,ㅤ isn't so bad !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( lee know x f!reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ photography major au, forced proximity ㅤ oneshotㅤ warnings n.a. ㅤ⋆ ( 1.5k ) ㅤ❟❟ㅤ library ㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi ㅤ.ㅤ 500 follower event ㅤ-ㅤ req

“This is crazy, I am not doing this,” you sigh dramatically as your friend judges you with the straw in her mouth. You look up and glare at her, how dare she not give it any importance?

She silently stirs her drink before saying, “You knew this was coming, he is just two ahead of you in the list.” You groan softly knowing how right she is but you still refute, “Well he is two before, I am supposed to partner with the one before me.”

“How convenient he dropped out right before,” she grins obviously enjoying this situation more than you can imagine. “Can you stop smiling? It isn’t funny,” you roll your eyes as she shrugs.

“All you talk about is him being cute, him staring at you and him looking hot so I think this is a great opportunity,” she giggles as you slap her arm and shush her. “You have to remember he rejected me,” you whisper as if the other people in the café are very interested about you and Minho.

“Uh correction, he said and I quote, ‘Not into those right now’, and that screams to me that he is interested but is just shy,” she winks as you make a ‘barf’ face before saying, “That is worse, technically.” Your friend scoffs at you and makes a hand gesture which you figure out- stop overthinking.

Maybe she is right, maybe you do need to do that.

She was not right. You tap your feet nervously as you wait for Minho to fix his camera for the outdoor shoot you have been given project on. You two have reached here separately and there has been nothing but silence since the past thirty minutes. The time has given you to wonder why you couldn’t have kept your mouth or rather your fingers shut a week ago when you boldly typed out the message that you like him.

You quietly arrange your equipment making up your mind that you got to suck it up and work with him. Moments later he walks in and you force yourself to not look up. You need to play this non-chalant because he promised you two would stay friends but it is easier said than done.

“Shall we start?” you jolt and then curse quietly before nodding at him and get up avoiding all possible eye contacts with him. Minho blinks before shrugging and pushing the document print out towards you. You take it as fast as you can, skimming through the details and nodding.

You breathe in and realise you can do this fast or slow and it all depends on you two so you finally say, “You can film the people while I film the nature and then we can contrast my video with your everyday life video for the final video.”

“That’s a good idea, we should start right now?” he asks and you give him a look saying, “You spent fifteen minutes fixing your camera and so did I, of course we are starting now!” Minho snickers a little and you swear you see his lip corners lift up a little but he brings the camera to his face and you focus on your work.

A few hours pass by and you are kind of relieved that the awkward atmosphere has soothed a little. You are glad that both of you are sticking to the work and that he hasn’t brought up the last week event. The only thing that is worrying you right now is the cloud forming in the sky that is telling you it is going to rain.

You look at Minho once who is still engrossed in filming so you shrug the feeling off as you resume your own work. Soon enough a ‘plop’ sound makes way to your ear and almost instantly you hear Minho curse under his breath as he taps you urgently. Without looking at him you start packing up as you hear his frantic breath trying to find a good shade.

The rain drops start becoming more frequent and you panic at the thought of saving the equipment. Suddenly a hand grabs your wrist and someone is pulling you fast as you look up to see Minho with your equipment in his other hand. The rain comes harder and he pulls you harder as you see the faint shadow of his car standing at the distance.

You watch him getting soaked as he holds an umbrella over your head but something takes over you as you snatch it from him even while running and hold it over his head.

He gets no time to argue as you two run and as soon as you reach the car you pack the equipment in the back. You push him off towards the driver’s seat as you sit down on the passenger seat. You internally cringe at the very large wet sound your clothes make as you sit down.

Minho sits down and shuts the door, the tapping of the rain against the car the only sound filling your void right now. You hear a very soft indie music playing in the radio as you two sit silently until he breaks the silence, “Are you an idiot?”

Your head whips towards him at comical speed mouth agape to argue back but suddenly your face is covered with a towel as you feel him running it over your hair. That very effectively shuts you up as you feel him slowly bring the towel down to wipe your face slowly. As soon as you feel your face dry a bit he takes the towel off you and awkwardly throws it at you mumbling, “You can do it on your own now!”

You quietly take it and before he can say anything else you reply, “For the record, I am not an idiot.” “You definitely are considering how you pushed the umbrella towards me,” he retorts and you scoff saying, “Because the camera needs more saving than I do and may I remind you that you were holding my stuff.”

He shuts up knowing he can’t give a proper reply to that argument and you quietly return to drying yourself up. Now that you two were are quiet and alone you hope he will not bring up last week at all. You hear him turn on the seat warmers and quietly murmur a ‘thank you’.

Minho looks at you worriedly and before he can stop himself he says, “Don’t catch a cold.” As soon as those words reach your ear you reply before you can stop yourself too, “Sure, now you care!”

Your eyes widen at your uncontrolled mouth as you splutter out a ‘sorry’ but he replies, “I have always cared about you.” “Yeah whatever,” you reply and he replies, “I know you saw my lingering gazes in class.”

“Yeah why? Because this girl asked you out and you said you are not interested right now,” you chuckle sarcastically at him and he looks away knowing he really has no excuse to that. He stays quiet for a while as the clatter of the heavy rain takes over again before he speaks, “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t ask you about your semester break plans, if I didn’t care I wouldn’t ask your birthday seconds after you said you really wanted a gift on your birthday and if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be asking you out again right now.”

Your eyes widen as you try to make sense of his talk but he continues, “And I know no apology could ever be enough for this but I freaked out so hard when you asked me out because I could never imagine a girl like you liking me at all. And maybe the irrational part told me I would ruin it all by dating you so I hung onto the last thread and told you I still want to be friends. And I know it’s stupid, and it doesn’t make sense-“

“It doesn’t,” you shut him up as you speak over his rambling, “but I’m willing to take your nonsense over anyone else’s perfectly crafted world any day.” His eyes widen as he asks, “Wait, for real?”

“I mean what kind of loser keeps stealing glances in class even after rejecting the girl he likes over texts, find her right after you enter the class, and if you freak out for her getting wet it just adds icing to the cake,” you giggle as you keep looking at his poker face.

“Does this mean, you are saying yes? You will go out with me?” he asks impatiently and you tap your fingers against the dashboard saying, “Hmm, I don’t know, let me think for about sixteen hours and then reply.”

He groans but nods his head saying, “Fair enough.”

“Should I then say ‘we should be friends’ then steal glances and then ask you out a week later?” you smile, mischief gleaming in your eyes and he slams against the seat replying, “You are never letting this go are you?”

“Never,” you giggle as he narrows his eyes but a small smile plays on his lips nevertheless. You look out the window where the rain is still making patterns from the heavy downfall. Maybe rainy days aren’t so gloomy after all!

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ i missed writing a fcking hell lot and this is how bad my comeback is?? tsk tsk, anyways i will try to be more online (meet you in 2 months) @weird-bookworm ik okay not my best 😭

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( TAGLIST ) ㅤ𓂃ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

@haneagerr @aaa-sia @yeosayang @hursheys

@gong-fourz @weird-bookworm @seomisaho @peterm4rker

@sxmmerberries for the awesome divider as gift

ㅤㅤ (ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

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star-sim · 1 year ago

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say it back! ☆ jay park

☆ non-idol! bf! jay x fem! reader ☆ summary: jay thinks you're really cute, especially when you're mad. ☆ genre: fluff!! implied college! au / young adult! au , super domestic and cutesy ☆ warning(s)? nope! ☆ word count: 1.1k ☆ after supermassive blackhole i realized just how many jay stans followed me, so eat up guys 😛

It was a Friday evening. The sun was beginning to set, casting a vibrant peach-orange glow over Jay’s apartment.

With a navy-blue apron hanging loosely from his neck, Jay took in the scent of garlic chives and caramelized onions marinating in the pan. With a spatula, he popped in a lump of gochujang, stirring in the hot, red paste.

If Jay had to be honest, he spent most of his time just touching you, his girlfriend. Not in a sexual way. Any physical touch with you was more than enough. Whether it be cuddling on the couch or you clinging onto him while he did things, the intimacy of having skin-on-skin contact was everything.

On days like this, Jay was the one cooking dinner. Not-so-surprising, you were an absolute mess in the kitchen, so he took on that responsibility. You should be home soon. You had taken up an internship a weeks ago, so you had to stay just a tad later than usual.

As Jay immersed himself in the gorgeous aromas of his craft, he thought of what he should do with you later.

He could watch a movie with you, but knowing you, you would probably be all over him. He never expected you to be the clingy, needy type, doing whatever you could to snuggle up against his warm body. Jay’s lips parted before spreading into a gummy grin. He could imagine your voice:

“Baaabe,” you would whine, plopping yourself in between his legs. You would tangle your arms with his, or maybe you'd place his hands in your hair and make him play with it.

If his eyes were glued to the TV for long enough, you would pout, before peppering soft kisses against his neck. Jay would pretend to ignore you, making you whine again.

“Give me attention,” you would murmur against his ear.

Oh man, Jay felt giddy and warm inside just thinking about it.

What he wouldn’t do just to have you come home already—

The door clicked open.

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil and you will appear.

Jay heard a few footsteps and a giggle before feeling arms slither around his torso.

“Hi,” you mumbled against his back.

Jay grinned. “Hi, Angel.”

You peeked over his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cooking. “Smells good.”

“Go wash up, baby,” Jay said. “I’m almost done.”

“Okayyy,” you squeezed his waist. You gave Jay a small peck on the cheek. You drawled, “I love youuuu!”

Jay hummed.

He heard you huff.

“I love you,” you repeated.

“Mhm.”

There’s a pulse of silence before you pulled away, leaving him alone.

When you left, he couldn’t help but smile so stupidly.

You were going to drive him crazy.

You were so cute, and adorable, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and precious, and everything that he loved. He wanted to hold you in his arms forever and kiss you forever and be with you forever and-

How many kids should you and him have? He’d always wanted two boys and a girl, but he wouldn’t mind having more. Later down the line, when you and him got older, he’d buy you a pretty diamond ring— in fact, he’d buy you everything that you’ve ever wanted. And then you and him will get married and buy a house. Would you take his last name? [Name] Park didn’t sound too bad. People would call you Mrs. Park, and instead of calling you by your first name, Jay would refer to you as “my wife,” and—

He was feeling dizzy just thinking about it. Was he getting ahead of himself?

“Are you mad at me?” your voice suddenly said.

Jay jumped. He whipped his head around to see you with your arms crossed and a big, sulky frown.

Were you standing there the whole time?

“B-Babe, I thought you went to the bathroom…”

You shook your head.

“Are you mad at me?” you repeated. Taking a few steps forward, you turned him around, pressing him up against the kitchen counter while holding his hands together.

“Wait, what?” Jay’s brows knitted together. “Baby, where is this coming from?”

“You…” you began, averting your gaze. “You didn’t say it back.”

Jay cocked his head. “Say what back?”

You huffed. “I said I love you, and you didn’t say it back.”

You tilted your head so that he couldn’t see your pouty face, playing with his fingers. You murmured something under your breath, something that he couldn’t quite hear.

Jay stared at you for a few seconds, processing everything. And then, he threw his head back, loud bouts of laughter emitting from his lips. Every time that he would calm down and look at you, your sulky face would make him burst back into his fit of giggles.

“It’s not funny!” you slapped his shoulder, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment. When he wouldn’t stop laughing, you turned away, punching him on the arm, “You’re a jerk, Jay.”

At that, Jay immediately stopped laughing.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Jay clasped your hands in his, pulling you close to him so that you were flushed against his chest.

You frowned.

“It's too late to apologize,” you mumbled.

Jay almost chuckled at your grumpiness, but stopped himself before you’d be even more upset with him.

You stayed like that for a few moments: Jay holding you close against the kitchen counter, fingers loosely intertwined.

Finally, Jay poked your cheek.

“Hey!”

“Don’t be mad at me, Angel.”

Your frown deepened.

Jay sighed.

Bringing a large hand up, he gently grabbed your face, bringing it closer.

“What are you-”

Jay began littering chaste kisses all across your face– he started at your cheek, moved up to your forehead, down your nose, to your other cheek, and lastly to your chin, where he teased you by kissing just close enough to your lips. He exaggerated by making loud kissy noises to further rile you up.

“Stoooooppp,” you whined, but made no attempt to resist him.

Jay let out a low chuckle. He cupped your cheeks. He ghosted his lips over yours, reveling in the way that you automatically closed your eyes and wet your lips in anticipation. He contemplated whether or not he should pull away to tease you, but decided against it.

Who was he to deny you?

When your lips met, you let out an excited squeal, squeezing his bicep. When you guys pulled away, Jay breathed against your lips, “I love you.”

“Baby...” you mewled, sliding your hands up his chest to hook around his neck.

“I love you,” he repeated himself, leaning in to give your lips a peck. “I love you so fucking much.”

You giggled softly, your breath brushing against his cheek. “I love you, too.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong #jay enhypen #jay enhypen x reader #jay fluff #jay x reader #jay enhypen fluff #star-sim #vanya-talks

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from-izzy · 4 months ago

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[17:07] | enhypen park sunghoon

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower.

pairing » enhypen park sunghoon x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, (not so) secret relationship au, non-idol au

genre » fluffy fluff with slight suggestive themes (nothing like this), lovesick and cute sunghoon, boyfriend sunghoon, reader helping with sunghoon's sister's dinner dance prep!

word count; estimated reading time » 1293; ~5 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » getting caught during making out by sunghoon's sister, kissing on lower abdomen/body, sunghoon lifts reader, reader implied to be smaller than sunghoon

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

my debut to enhablr...? i see clips of sunghoon and heeseung and they make me wanna get into enha 🥹 i'm sure the fandom knows that sunghoon has a sister but i didn't use her real name for this fic; it just makes me more comfortable in this way. hope you all enjoy!!

You don't usually knock on the Park’s residence house since Sunghoon would usually open it for you as per his invite, or help you sneak in through the side window. But today is a bit different since today is Serin’s dinner dance at her school, and she asked you for help with makeup and outfits. In a heartbeat, you agreed, especially since the event has been a special one for you since the day Sunghoon asked you to be his.

Sunghoon knows about you coming over to help his sister, but knowing that your visit today isn't for him puts a frown on his face. His relationship with you is still private, which is something that you both want at the current moment. But after a year of dating, he can't wait to formally introduce his once best friend to his family who is already very fond of you.

“Thank you so much for coming!” The door opens to reveal the younger girl. “Come in!”

You chuckle at her excited nature. You know Serin has been a delightful one since a long time ago, and you're glad to be part of a wonderful event for her. A few steps into the house, you see Sunghoon by the couch, resting his chin on his arm as he pouts at you.

“Hey,” you greet him casually, sneaking in a wink behind Serin.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes away playfully, turning around to the television as he sulks and sinks into the couch.

“Oppa! Don't be rude!” Serin defends you. “But whatever, guess I'll have her to myself.”

If it was anyone other than his beloved sister saying those words, Sunghoon would cling to your side, sweep you off your feet and claim your lips with his. “Whatever,” Sunghoon dismisses her with a hand wave.

Upstairs, Serin had all her makeup and dress options ready for your second opinion. It wasn't long until you chose the one you thought suited her the best, helping her change and adjusting it to fit nicely on her body. Just as so, it didn't take long until your numerous hair and makeup suggestions were chosen by her.

“You're gonna be the prettiest girl in the room,” you blend the pink blush across her cheeks.

“Of course, I am. You're the one giving me the makeup after all,” you chuckle at her words, adding the finishing touches and setting spray onto her face. “Don't tell Sunghoon this, but I'm going with a date.”

You gasp at the information. “Really?! That's so cute! Let me see a picture!”

Serin skips over to make sure the bedroom door is locked before sitting on the edge of her bed, patting the empty space beside her for you. The younger swipes through the many pictures in her gallery, recounting the main parts of that day spent together.

You know what it feels like to be attracted to someone. To like someone, and ultimately, to be head over heels in love with someone. Looking through the pictures of her and her partner for the dance, you could tell that it wasn't puppy love or a short-lived crush. How'd you know? Her eyes sparkle with minimal lighting as they cuddle in the picture tells you everything her heart feels.

“Don't tell Sunghoon please,” a pout overtakes her face. “You know how protective he is, and I promise I will tell him soon.”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, humming in contemplation. The younger pleads once more, a pinky out hanging in the air, waiting for yours. In the end, you gave in, knowing well that you weren't going to not agree from the start. You understand where she's coming from since your brother is the same as well.

“Alright, go get the rest of your things ready!” You nudged your shoulder against hers and excused yourself from her room.

As soon as the door clicks securely shut, your fingertips on the metal knob don't even get a chance to properly let go when they're replaced with warmth instead. A hand grasps the side of your waist, pulling you next door where the meaning behind another click of this door differs greatly.

You yelp at the soft tug, a hand protecting the back of your head when your body hits the door. The room is barely lit, only the moon and the street lights shining through from the still-opened curtains beside you giving the luminance enough for you to face your blushing boyfriend.

Sunghoon sighs deeply with how he manages to finally have alone time with you successfully without getting caught. His lips finally attach to yours, drowning out the giggling and pleasurable moaning slipping out from the both of you. Your eyelids flutter shut, brushing against his skin gently as he shudders at the way your nose nudges his as you kiss him feverishly. As the situation escalates, the hood around his head falls, giving your hand access to his beautiful locks.

The grip on the side of your body tightens only slightly as your boyfriend pulls you closer to his chest that your hands rest on. Sunghoon leaves your lips, travelling to your ears to huskily whisper, “Hi baby girl,” he kisses your ear after, kissing along your jawline and neck as you gasp at him.

“H-Hoon-” you hiss at the pressure he puts on a sensitive part of your neck, messing and tugging on his hair. “Your sister is going to be ready at any time now.”

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower.

The hand behind your head joins the other side of your body, slithering down to the back of your thighs as Sunghoon kneels, continuing to trail his kisses to your clothed stomach. With a swift motion, he carries you by your thighs, standing up and walking towards his bed. He never spared a moment where his lips didn't touch your heated body. There was no time for your heart to calm its racing pace, the adrenaline of staying quiet hitting you both.

Now seated on his bed with you straddling his built thighs, you take this moment to fully open your eyes, seeing the white light shine upon his red cheeks. His palm cups the apple of your cheeks, foreheads resting as you catch your breaths.

“Can't get enough of you,” he mutters. “I just want and need you all the time…”

Sunghoon is cute when he's lovesick like this, your cheeks instantly heating more than before at his confession. You hum, “I love you, Hoon.”

“I love you much more.”

His orbs sparkle upon yours sincerely for a second until his open lips come closer to claim yours again. You're millimetres apart when the door opens unexpectedly behind you. Your body reacts first, jumping away from Sunghoon, pushing him flat onto the bed as you pull your clothes to straighten the creases of the makeout.

Serin covers her eyes even if you both are detached, the split second burning into her memory. “I knew you guys were together, but I didn't know it was getting spicy here!”

Sunghoon’s body springs up from the mattress, “You knew yet you still came in?!”

“Wait, that's what you're worried about?!” you exclaim with wide eyes at your boyfriend. “You knew all this time?!” Questioning the grinning sister at the door.

“I know I just kind of exposed you, but don't expose me!” Serin shouts as she retreats to a safer part of the house.

“What does that mean?!” The clueless brother runs out to interrogate his sibling while you're left dumbfounded at what just happened in the last few seconds.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

tags: @k-films @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @haneul-and-clouds @sunlightwoo @hursheys

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bbtsficrecs · 1 year ago

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BTS FIC RECS PART 4 Part 4 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡ There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Hell Is Empty - drabble Love triangle AU | a | @aquagustd ‣ An important phone call between Yoongi & OC.

⊹ You’re The Best I’ve Ever Had Boyfriend Jungkook, Chubby reader | a, f, s | @adoredcore ‣ Jungkook’s touches were so soft. So soft you almost barely even felt them. Keyword: almost. His smooth fingertips ran along your silky skin, while the tip of his pink tongue ran across the nape of your neck.

⊹ Fool Me Once Fuckboy AU | a, s | @jeonqkooks ‣ You never expect anything from Jungkook, but somehow he always manages to let you down.

⊹ Attitude CEO Jungkook au | s | @lushtans ‣ Your relationship with your CEO is... Rather complicated. Aside your professional relationship, he fucks you whenever he feels like it and as much as you hate to admit the truth, you love it.

⊹ Don't Worry, Be Happy Daddy Jungkook AU, | f | @jvngkook97 ‣ "You guys have been trying to conceive for a little over a year now, but have yet to be fully successful."

⊹ Trap Idol Jungkook AU, | f | @jiminpitys ‣ In which you show up at your boyfriend's concert soundcheck as a surprise, and to your own, he’s wearing an outfit that’s bound to make you feel a certain way.

⊹ Addicted College AU, | f , s | @sparklingchim ‣ Your boyfie Jungkook fucking you silly.

⊹ B i g o l e f r e a k Friends with benefits AU | f , s | @joonberriess ‣ You’re both exclusive only to each other. Jungkook fucks the way he acts—crazy, hard. too bad you’re only here for the ride..

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Paint me naked Artist Jungkook AU | f , s, a | @gimmethatagustd ‣ After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

⊹ Why are you so late? Idol Jungkook AU | f , s | @kimnjss

‣ With such a packed scheduled, you’d think Jungkook would be on top of his game. But when a morning rolling around the sheets with you is thrown into the mix, it’s expected for him to want to take his time.

⊹ Our beloved summer - Series (on-going) Producer Jungkook AU | f, s, a | @jeonqkooks ‣ You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

⊹ Heaven can wait Chubby reader AU | f, s ish | @adoredcore ‣ "What’s a chance I’ll take baby I’ll stay heaven can wait."

⊹ Midnight cravings Established relationship AU | f | @hobiholic ‣ You want to go to the convenience store late at night to fulfill your midnight cravings but a sleepy Jungkook stops you.

⊹ Wet dreams Somnophilia AU | s | @kookiecrumb ‣ “I want you to use me…whenever you need me,”

⊹ Look at you - Risqué drabble Risqué couple AU | s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Mirror shopping with your boyfriend turns into something else entirely.

⊹ In the middle of the night Friends with benefits AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ It’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you

⊹ Like I'm famous Idol Jungkook AU | s, f | @softyoongiionly ‣ It’s New Years Eve and Jungkook would rather be anywhere else than at his company’s massive party. Sure, he’s a guest of honor and his team rented out the nicest hotel in Seoul, but ringing in the New Year with you on the other side of the world just feels wrong. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to celebrate without the woman he loves, but maybe- just maybe…he won’t have to…

⊹ Strangers to lovers Established relationship AU | s | @kissmetae ‣ You’re a regular at the gym and today you decided to workout late. You thought you were alone, but it turned out there was one other person at the gym and you so happened to be his gym crush…

⊹ My dear friends Friends to lovers AU | s, f, a | @kooktrash ‣ Just friends? Keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

⊹ Red - Part 03 Pregnancy AU | s, f, a | @taestefully-in-luv ‣ You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

⊹ As we were - Series (on-going) Cheating/Infidelity AU | s, a | @archivedkookie ‣ Your husband cheats on you and find comfort in someone else’s arms. He claims he’s happy—but is he really?

⊹ Imagine Model Jungkook AU | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching TV shows. You, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind.

⊹ Practice - part 02, 03 Fuckboy Jungkook AU | s, a | @chryblossomjjk ‣ You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⊹ Lost Cause Cheating AU | a | @kooksbunnnn ‣ Jungkook comes back to you after his 10 day trip to Busan, and you sense something different about him.

⊹ The Boy With Galaxies In His Eyes Idol AU | a, s, f | @oddinary4bts ‣ You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

⊹ Beyond Infinity - As We Were drabble As We Were Couple AU | a, s, f | @archivedkookie ‣ Jungkook does something you always dreamt about, and it ends up with the most beautiful night of your life.

⊹ What If I Love You Too Much Single Mom AU | a, s, f | @taleasnewastime ‣ Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

⊹ Services For A Queen Sub!JK AU | s | @taegonia ‣ Jungkook serves his queen in more ways than just as the royal head of security.

⊹ Cold Nights & Blurred Lines FWB & College AU | a, s, f | @awrkive ‣ Jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. But as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. Is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? It definitely is. Will you do something about it? Both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

⊹ Strictly Platonic Bestfriends to Lovers & College AU | a, s, f | @jeonqkooks ‣ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

⊹ In The Middle Of The Night FWB AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ it’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you ⊹ Perfectionist Dancer AU | s | @miraclesatnightfall ‣ "He watched you, with each sensual step you made his eyes darkened with explicit desire" ⊹ Tangle Free Establish Relationship AU | f | @here4btsfics ‣ Bad days lead to you needing your boyfriend for comfort, specifically by playing with his hair.

⊹ As It Was - Apart of Boy With Love Series (on-going) College AU | a | @ggukiepie ‣ You bump into Jungkook days after you find out he has a girlfriend; things don't go so well

⊹ The Habits Of A Broken Heart Soulmate & Unrequited love AU | a, f | @softykooky ‣ Jungkook and you are soulmates. So says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. However, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. ⊹ Blackout - part 02, 03 Best friends to Lovers | s, a, f | @jjungxkook ‣ Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

⊹ Step Brother Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ Sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games.

⊹ Forbidden Romance Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ "It wasn’t unusual for your stepbrother to check up on you before bed. You’ve grown closer than you initially thought you would; it turned out that beneath the surface, you and Jungkook weren’t that different, after all."

⊹ My Perfect Patient Dentist Office AU | s, f | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Jaw pain is just as much of a pain in the mouth as it is in the ass, but don't worry, your favorite dentist is sure to fix you right up, using some special methods.

⊹ Confessions - part 02 Office AU | a | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Since we're about to die, I need you to know, I've always loved you, Jungkook.

⊹ Getting Railed Boyfriend Jungkook AU | s | @dearlytea ‣ Getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

⊹ Make You Mine College AU | a, s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ Catch 22 College AU | s, f | @alluremin ‣ You and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. Who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

⊹ Tolerate It - part 02 Failing marriage! au | a | @lmaosope ‣ Marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.

⊹ Make You Mine Jock Jk au | a , s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ His Throne - 01, 02, 03 Prince JK au | a, s, f | @jiminsa ‣ You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jeon Jungkook on his throne.

#my recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic recs #bts fanfic #bts fic recs

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mistressofstars · 4 months ago

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A Lecture on Desire - Part III

Pairing: Kathryn Hahn x Reader

Summary: A lecture on The Price of Salt is supposed to be all about Therese and Carol, but when Professor Hahn locks eyes with you, lines blur. Slow-Burn. Non-magical AU

Word count: 2k

”What else mattered except being with Carol, anywhere, anyhow?“

- Patricia Highsmith, The Price of Salt

Part III

Your hands hover over the keyboard, each key feeling heavier than usual. You’ve drafted three replies and deleted every single one. Nothing feels quite right, polite but not too eager. Eventually, you settle for a reply.

Subject: RE: Glasses

Dear Professor Hahn,

saturday at 2 p.m. works perfectly for me, thank you for the invitation.

I’m glad I could return your glasses; I’d hate to think of you without them.

Kind regards,

Y/N Y/LN

You re-red it. Shit. Did you really just send that? You hit your head against the keyboard in disbelief, that stupid, flirty, awkwardly sincere message is now in her inbox, and there’s no taking it back.

Re-reading it. Shit. Did you really just send that? You hit your head against the keyboard in disbelief, that stupid, flirty, awkward message is now in her inbox, and there’s no taking it back.

You groan into your palms, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.After a feel minutes you sigh and move the cursor toward the corner of the screen to close your inbox, you just wanted to hide under your blanket.

A notification pops up.

Subject: RE: RE: Glasses

Dear Miss Y/Ln,

I’ll see you at Maury’s Tiny Cove, 3908 Harrison Avenue, Cheviot.

As for my glasses and hating to think of me without them? That’s quite the visual you’ve been entertaining. I hope it wasn’t too distracting.

K. Hahn

You blink, rereading it twice. Three times. The words sink in slowly, her voice practically slipping off the screen, that teasing edge.‘You swallow hard, feeling a strange mix of humiliation and thrill. Did she really just write that?

…

The days leading up to lunch feel impossibly long, each second dragging as your thoughts spin in endless circles. You try to distract yourself , but your mind keeps returning to that email. To her words. The teasing, playful edge in them. You want to stop thinking about it, but you can’t.

It’s Saturday, and you still haven’t figured out how to calm your nerves. It’s like the weight of what’s coming presses on you, no matter how many times you try to shake it off. Lunch with Professor Hahn. The thought alone makes your pulse quicken. You’re about to see her outside of class, outside of the usual boundaries. There’s something so… charged about the whole thing.

You glance at the clock—it’s nearly time to start getting ready. You swallow hard, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. Time to make a decision. What do you wear to something like this?

Your eyes land on the red sweater you’ve worn a few times it’s simple, but it fits perfectly. The heart-shaped neckline shows off just enough skin. You bite your lip at the idea of Professor Hahn noticing it.

You apply your favorite perfume on your pulse point and on your wrist, letting the familiar scent settle over you. With a deep breath, you throw on your wool coat and reach for the thick scarf hanging nearby.

The restaurant feels warmer than it should. You glance at your watch for what must be the hundredth time. Five minutes past two. She’s late. Or maybe you’re just too early. The thought doesn’t make you feel any better as you fidget with the corner of your napkin, sneaking another glance at the door.

The sound of heels clicking against the floor snaps your attention back to the present. You look up, and there she is.

Kathryn Hahn strides in with an air of ease, as if she owns the room. Her white blouse is crisp, the first couple of buttons undone, hinting at the barest shadow of skin. A navy coat hugs her shoulders perfectly, and her hair falls casually loose, framing her face. Her sharp eyes scan the room until they lock onto yours. Intense. Steady. Unwavering.

You freeze under her gaze, heat pooling low in your stomach as she approaches. When she finally reaches the table, she slips off her coat with a fluid motion, draping it neatly over the back of her chair. The tailored blouse accentuates her figure, skimming over curves that make your throat dry.

Kathryn smirks, sitting down with deliberate grace. She leans in slightly, resting her elbow on the table. Her glasses dangle loosely from the open button of her blouse, the movement drawing your attention to the soft curve of her collarbone and the subtle hint of cleavage revealed beneath the crisp white fabric. Your eyes are lingering for a moment too long before you snap your gaze back up to her face.

“Hello, Professor,” you manage, your voice quieter than you intended, trying not to let your gaze drop again.

Her lips curve further, a touch of satisfaction colouring her expression. “Miss Y/LN,” she replies smoothly, her tone laced with something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, gripping the menu like a lifeline as she leans back slightly, crossing her legs.

Her fingers move to the glasses resting at the edge of her blouse. She pulls them free, slowly, painfully slowly and deliberate. The glasses catch briefly against the fabric before she unfolds them with a practiced ease. Sliding them onto her nose, low enough to peer over the frames, her eyes flick to the menu, as if entirely unaware of the way your breath hitches.

The waiter arrives, and Kathryn orders a Greek salad without hesitation. “And Texan Ranch Water,” she adds.

You scramble to order the same salad, your mind still racing over her drink choice. Texan Ranch Water? You scan the menu again, trying to figure out what it is, but before you can, you glance up to find her watching you.

She’s holding her glasses by the tip, her lips brushing the arm of the frame as she waits. Her eyes are locked on yours, her expression unreadable. You squirm under her gaze, heat prickling at the back of your neck.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, her voice low and teasing. Her lips quirk just slightly.

Your face burns. “Just, uh, trying to figure out what you ordered,” you mumble.

“Well, you don’t know what’s in a Ranch Water?? Honey…”, her eyes twinkling with a mix of surprise and amusement. It’s tequila, it’s lime juice,” she says, making a squishing motion with her fingers, “and it’s sparkling mineral water.” She chuckles lightly. “How old are you again? I would have thought you’d know something as classic as a Ranch Water by now.”

You tell her your age, and her smile widens, eyes flashing with mischievous delight. “Really?” she draws out the word, letting out a soft, almost teasing laugh. “That young, huh?”

She leans back again, her eyes never leaving yours, a slow, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, sweetheart, there’s always time to educate you,” she adds, her voice drops slightly.

“So, Y/N…” she says, your name rolling off her tongue like melted chocolate. Your eyes widen slightly at the intimacy. “That’s a lovely name. Where’s it from?”

You hesitate for a moment, stumbling over your answer before offering a brief explanation. She listens intently, her chin resting on her hand, her eyes flickering with curiosity and something more playful.

“You’re not from here, though, are you?” she presses, the words slipping out with the ease of someone who knows they’re right. “I can hear it in your accent.”

You nod and tell her about your upbringing, feeling strangely vulnerable under her scrutiny.

The waiter arrives with your plates, interrupting the charged air between you.

Professor Hahn spears a tomato with elegant precision before raising a brow. “Afraid to ask about me?” she says, her tone teasing but pointed.

You swallow, pulling your nervous energy together, forcing a smile. The tension is unbearable, but you manage to say, “Was about to ask.” The smile lingers, a little more confident this time.

Her grey eyes gleam, intrigued by your shift in tone. She sets her fork down and leans back slightly. “Cleveland,” she offers casually. “But I studied in New York. Lived there for years.”

Kathryn’s drink is set down beside her. You watch her pick up the glass, her fingers curling around the rim as she brings it to her lips. Her eyes flick to yours as she takes a sip, and your stomach twists. She sets the glass down.

Without thinking, you find yourself asking, “Can I try it?”

Kathryn looks at you for a beat and without saying a word, she slides the glass toward you, your fingers brushing.

You focus on the faint lipstick stain on the rim of the glass. With a steady hand, you bring the glass to your lips, deliberately sipping from the spot where her lips had just been. The taste is sharp and refreshing, the tequila cutting through with just the right bite.

Licking your lips the taste is lingering as you meet her gaze. Her eyes darken, it makes your stomach tighten. You feel like prey.

“It’s good,” you say, your voice casual. You lower the glass, smiling at her as you hand it back. “I like it.”

“I’ll get you your own then.” She looks over at the waiter, raising her hand slightly and ordering one for you.

Kathryn leans back slightly, her expression shifting. It’s subtle, but you notice the change immediately—her posture straighter, her voice taking on that polished, professional edge. “So,” she begins, her tone a bit more measured, “The Price of Salt… How’s the reading going? You enjoying it?”

”I finished it. It’s a masterpiece, really. How Highsmith builds tension and captures desire… it’s mesmerizing.“

Expression unreadable, ”One of my students posed a question after class and I’m curious to hear your thoughts on it.”

”He suggested that Therese… ” She draws out the name, a soft emphasis as if weighing the idea. “….should have never gotten involved with Carol. That Carol, with all her complexities, is far too… perilous for someone as tender as Therese. And instead, they argued, Therese would have been better off with Richard—the safe, predictable choice.”

You take a large zip from your drink, the emotions bubbling up despite yourself. “Richard is everything Therese doesn’t want to be tied down to,” you begin, the words spilling out faster than you expected. “He’s suffocating. He doesn’t see her as a person—he sees her as some… accessory to his perfect life plan. Someone to mold into what he wants.”

Your voice sharpens but you feel the effect of the drink as you continue, fingers tightening around your glass. “Carol—Carol is dangerous, sure. But she’s also alive. She’s everything Richard isn’t. She’s freedom. She’s, longing, desire … lust.

You pause, your breath quickening as you think about it. “Being with Carol isn’t about playing it safe. It’s about choosing the fire, knowing it might burn you but stepping into it anyway. Because sometimes, the risk is worth it. That’s what makes it so—” You search for the word, your voice softening. “So irresistible. Richard could never be that. He could never make her feel this way.”

You glance down at the table, momentarily lost in your own words. When you lift your eyes back to Kathryn, her expression hasn’t changed. She’s still watching you, her grey eyes locked on yours, unblinking, as though she’s dissecting every word. The quiet that follows feels heavy, thick with unspoken tension, and you realize your heart is pounding.

Her fingers trail along the rim of her almost empty glass before she speaks, her tone impossibly calm. “Miss Y/L/N,” she says, “would you like to continue discussing this in my office?”

The words hang in the air, thick. There’s no mistaking the pull in her tone, no question of what she’s offering—or demanding.

You nod.

Author’s Note: A little homage to some of Kathryn Hahn’s iconic pop culture moments sprinkled in here, couldn’t resist! Next chapter? No more slow burn. That’s all I’m going to say.

#kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #Kathryn Hahn x you #carol 2015 #the price of salt #cate blanchett #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x you #agatha all along #agatha x reader #reader insert #professor x student

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godslino · 1 year ago

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GUTTER BALL | changbin first date series. one night stand to lovers.

pairing: changbin x fem!reader word count: 5.2k genre: non idol au, fluff warnings: implied sexual content, swearing, mentions of drinking summary: a one night stand with changbin ends in pancakes and the promise of a date. the rest is history.

a/n: finally! the changbin chapter! i just want to take a second to say THANK YOU for all the support you guys have given this series so far. reading everyone's comments is genuinely the highlight of my day and i'm so happy you're all enjoying it. please remember that both my taglist and my requests are open, so don't be shy. once again, any and all feedback is appreciated. you guys are awesome, happy reading <3

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that this is not your room.

Blackout curtains, a lamp on the bedside table painting the walls in a warm glow, navy blue sheets that are pulled over your bare chest and—oh.

Oh.

“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing your arm over your eyes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Everything comes flooding back in an instant: the bar, dark curly hair, one too many drinks, a voice low in your ear, stumbling through his apartment door, the most ripped arms you’ve ever seen, and that tongue—

The sound of a door unlocking shakes you from your thoughts, followed by shoes being kicked off as you scramble to sit up and hug the sheet tighter around your body.

What was his name—Changbin? Changbin. That sounds right. At least from the memories you have where it was coming out in strangled moans from your throat. Which is dry, by the way, undoubtedly from the amount of alcohol and the…strain it was put through.

You don’t really have time to unpack that particular part of last night’s events when there’s a knock at the door—funny, because this is his room.

Flattening your back against the headboard, you clear your throat as best you can, “Come in.”

When it opens, Changbin’s head pops through, tufts of his hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. “Hey,” he says softly before stepping all the way in. He takes one look at you, your hands holding the bedsheet in a death grip, and wordlessly walks over to his dresser.

“I bought food,” he says with his back turned, pulling out a sweatshirt. He pulls out a few sweatpants too, shuffles through them until he finds some with a drawstring, and then turns back around to face you with the clothes held in his hand.

He looks…apologetic? Nervous? Really, really cute? That’s not a question, actually. He is cute.

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re seeing him in better lighting for the first time, or maybe because you’re sober, or maybe because the only other image you have of him is when he’s hovering over your body and making you see stars, but you can’t help the little fluttering feeling that starts in your chest when he gives you a small smile.

“Your dress is kind of…I, uh…it’s ripped.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at the same time you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh,” is all you can say as you desperately try to remember that part of the night. Hands are all you see, big and strong, and you silently let your gaze fall to them as he moves forward to place the clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, “You can have these. They should fit you, and I don’t mind losing them. Consider it my reimbursement for ruining your dress.”

You lean forward slowly, still holding the blanket to your chest, and Changbin has to stop himself from staring at the exposed skin of your shoulder when your hair falls forward in the process. “These are—” your eyes go wide, “Balenciaga?!”

He blinks like you didn’t just name drop a brand that sells singular articles of clothing for double your paycheck. “Yeah?”

“I can’t take this.”

“Why not?”

“This costs more than me,” you say incredulously.

He moves to argue, but then a slow grin starts to spread across his face. He tones it down, minimizes it to a single upturn of the left side of his mouth. “I mean, you don’t have to wear anything. I don’t mind either way.” Changbin smirks, and you narrow your eyes.

“However,” he continues, “I would really, really like to see you in my clothes.”

🎳

“He gave you a what hoodie?” Felix’s voice is distant on the other end of the line. The clicking of his keyboard stops, there’s a rustle, and then suddenly his mouth is a lot closer to the speaker than it’d previously been.

Changbin’s en suite is huge, just like his bedroom. Once he slipped out to give you privacy, claiming he was going to set up the food, you’d allowed yourself to fully take in your surroundings. A california king sized bed, a walk in closet, an attached bathroom with a balcony.

You sigh, leaning back against the marble sink. Changbin’s sweats sit low on your hips, his hoodie all but swallowing your figure into the material.

“That’s not the point, Felix. Were you even listening to me? An entire five minute monologue about how I’m in his house and all you care about is the Balenciaga?”

“Does he have any, like, really hot friends?”

“Felix.”

“Wait. Is he really hot?”

“Felix!” you bring a hand to your forehead, using your thumb and middle finger to rub at the spots just above your eyebrows. “You’re not helping here.”

“Okay,” Felix says, his voice low, “It’s just that I’m having an issue seeing what the problem is.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to fight the oncoming headache as Felix rambles on.

“This guy brought you back to his place, rocked your world, and then what? Cuddled you? Bought you breakfast? Gave you his clothes that are worth more than my car and is now waiting for you to come out of his bathroom and enjoy a nice meal? And that’s bad because…?”

“You know what? I’m hanging up.”

“The hell you are! I left my fucking fortnite match for this! You’d better go out there and—” You slam your phone down on the bathroom counter, the sound echoing. If Felix wasn’t going to validate your very unnecessary nerves, then so be it.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unfamiliar with the person looking back. It’s a little jarring, the sight of you in someone else’s clothes. A man’s clothes, no less.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything close to this sort of…intimacy. Hookups are normal for you, sure. But the mornings after are usually never more than a hurried goodbye as you gather your things and haul ass out the door. Most of the time you don’t even stay, sobered up enough after your post-coital state to slip out into the night and call an uber.

Your memory had come back in full as you were slipping Changbin’s clothes on once he left the room. The sex was great—amazing even. But afterwards, when he turned over and slipped an arm around your waist and hooked his chin on your shoulder was what really scared you.

Okay, maybe scared is an exaggeration. You aren’t scared, it’s just been a while. So what if you don’t crave male validation? Sex is the fun part anyways. Dating doesn’t necessarily go well for you, and feelings are definitely off the table when it comes to hookups. Because that’s all it is: a hookup. Changbin is no different.

You give yourself a total of thirty more seconds before braving a step out into the hallway, sheepishly peeking around the corner.

The apartment is unsurprisingly huge as well: a high ceiling, intricate marble flooring, a chandelier hung in the center of the living room that reflects the sunlight coming in from the floor-to-wall windows on the opposite side.

“Woah,” you say to no one in particular, walking into the dining room area, “This place is intense.”

Changbin looks up from his phone. His hat is off now, a mop of curls sit messily on his head, thick-rimmed glasses are situated at the tip of his nose, his arms—straining against the fabric of his black t-shirt—rest heavily on the table. You watch as he lets his eyes travel the length of you, painfully slow, something unreadable behind them.

“Food’s ready,” is all he says with a smile.

You sit down across from him, eyes wide. It’s like he bought out the entirety of an IHOP while you were asleep. There’s pancakes and waffles, hash browns and toast, an assortment of fruit, two different omelets, two cups of coffee, and at least five different types of syrup options.

“Are we…” you trail off, meeting his expectant gaze, “…expecting other people?”

Changbin nervously scratches his chin. “No, uh, I just—I didn’t know what you liked. And you were sleeping, so…yeah. I tried to cover all the bases.”

When you don’t respond, your eyes transfixed on him, he clears his throat. “Please eat,” he says, extending a hand to gesture at the food, “Let me know if there’s anything else you want.”

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing a fork. Changbin waits until he’s certain you don’t immediately hate it and then starts to eat, too.

It’s quiet, comfortable, sounds of cutlery clinking against plates are the only thing filling the silence as the two of you try to soothe your hangovers with full stomachs. You steal glances at him throughout, watch the way his lips pout when he chews, and then shyly look back down at your plate when he catches you staring. It’s kind of sweet, the idea that he did all this despite only having met you twelve hours ago.

It should be more awkward, too. You’re going to have to talk at some point. There’s an elephant in the room that’s shaped a lot like post-nut clarity mixed with morning-after regret and neither of you are making a move to address it.

“So um, about last night…” Changbin starts a few minutes later. He looks nervous, like he doesn’t know how to vocalize what he plans on saying next.

You nod, putting your fork down. This was to be expected. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m done eating, don’t worry.” Changbin’s head snaps in your direction. “It was really nice of you to get food and stuff, so thank you. I can put my dress back on too so that way I don’t have to take—”

“What?” Changbin furrows his eyebrows, “No. Wait. I’m not kicking you out, Jesus.”

You blink. “You’re not?”

“Of course not.” He stills. “Is that how these things usually go for you?”

Well that isn’t exactly a question you planned on answering. What are you supposed to say? Yeah haha I actually just kind of leave before they have a chance to come back from the bathroom?

“I mean, is that not how it goes for you?”

The blush that spreads across Changbin’s cheeks is hard to ignore. “I don’t—uh…I don’t do this.”

“You don’t buy girls breakfast after you sleep with them?”

“No I don’t—I don’t bring girls home.” He admits.

Oh.

“So I’m…?” The first, you want to ask.

“Yeah.”

Oh.

You’ve never been in this situation before. Apparently that’s Changbin’s specialty: helping you experience things that you normally wouldn’t.

“Listen,” he starts again, licking his lips. His leg is bouncing nervously, visible through the glass table. “I didn’t intend to sleep with you last night. Not because I didn’t want to! Fuck, I—I wanted to. And it was…God, it was amazing. But I feel kind of bad, because everything is out of order and I don’t want it to seem like I’m only trying to ask you now just because I want to get in your pants again or something but like—”

“Changbin,” you cut him off, “Breathe. You don’t—whatever it is you want to say, you can say it.”

He visibly relaxes as soon as his name comes out of your mouth.

“Can I take you on a date?”

There’s a long silence that follows, one that makes you question whether or not he actually said what you think he did. It feels a little surreal, not just the situation but Changbin himself. You went into this blind, completely void of any expectations, but somehow came out of it with—

“A…date?” you ask hesitantly.

“A date.” He repeats, more confident this time. “A real one. Not just a hookup. I mean, I thought you were beautiful—still do! That’s why I approached you at first. I wasn’t expecting to come back here but we were both drinking and then one thing lead to another and your face was so close and I—”

“Okay.” You say, stabbing at a piece of pancake with your fork.

“Okay?” Changbin asks, blinking at you like he didn’t hear correctly.

“I mean,” you swallow your food, “Typically I’d say you’re just trying to sleep with me, because what guy does all of this for a girl he knows literally nothing about?” Changbin nods in understanding. “But we’re kind of past that, aren’t we? So clearly you don’t have any other motives.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. Nope. Definitely don’t.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, to which he visibly pales. “Wait, not like that. I just mean that I’m motivated by the fact that you’re beautiful and I want to get to know you not…anything else.”

When you laugh it’s soft, no more than a few heavy exhales out of your nose. Changbin wishes he could hear it more, could get you to open up to him. “I’m not too sure there’s much you’d want to know.” You admit.

“Well that’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

His tone is different now, much more confident. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s more at ease with the conversation, or maybe it’s because he wants to prove you wrong. Either way, it makes anticipation stir deep in your gut. Changbin is different, a good different.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“So it’s a date?” He picks up a piece of watermelon with his fork, holds it out to you in some sort of a toast.

“Depends,” you poke another piece of your pancakes and let it hover in front of your face, “Are you gonna buy more of these?”

“I could make that happen.” He smiles, and for the first time you let yourself get lost in it.

“Then yeah,” you push your hand forward, clinking the sides of your forks together, “It’s a date.”

🎳

changbin [8:30am]

for you 🥞

you [8:31am]

are you going to do this every day?

changbin [8:31am]

absolutely

what kind of a man would that make me if i didn’t deliver your pancakes in the morning?

you [8:34am]

a normal one

changbin [8:34am]

sounds boring

do you want syrup with those?

🎳

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Felix says, leaning against the doorframe. He watches as you adjust your hair in the mirror, a wary look on his face from where you can see his reflection over your shoulder.

It’s been two weeks since you and Changbin hooked up. You’ve texted nonstop since then, most of it just casual conversation. It’s kind of nice; you get to hear about his day, what songs he’s currently listening to, and find out that he’s one hundred percent committed to the pancake bit. You let him know more about yourself too: your job, your annoying coworkers, which one of your comfort shows you’re rewatching for the fourth time. Changbin makes it a point to text you every morning and every night. You open your eyes to a pancake delivery and then close them after answering the question of: What type of pancakes do you want tomorrow?

Today, it was blueberry. Because today is the day you’re finally going on your date—and because Changbin’s sheets (that you haven’t stopped thinking about for some reason) are blue.

“What’s there to not believe, Lix?” you ask, turning to face him.

“I’m just worried.” He says, walking forward to place both hands on your shoulders. His face is serious, eyebrows pulled together slightly in that concerned look you know too well. Felix has seen firsthand what your last relationship did to you, spent nights with you tucked under his arm as you cried it out and he shoveled ice cream into your mouth. So yeah, he has the room to be worried.

“What if you mess up and I lose my chance to be his friend so he can give me a Balenciaga hoodie?”

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Whatever the hell happens in the tv shows. You shove his arms away with a scoff, rolling your eyes when he stumbles to the side as he laughs.

“You are so annoying.”

“And you better not ruin my chances of getting with one of his producer friends!” Felix calls out as you walk towards the living room. “I saw a cute one on his instagram. Don’t know his name—there was no tag, but oh my God, I love his nose.”

“You went through his socials?” you ask in disbelief, staring at him as he bends down to rummage through the fridge.

“Uh, yeah? Had to make sure he wasn’t some sort of weirdo that could possibly turn out to be a serial killer. Please, I’m not that bad of a best friend.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” You smile, laughing at the pout he shoots your way.

Changbin’s got his hands in his pockets when you swing the door open. His hair is even fluffier than you remember, a white t-shirt hugging his chest perfectly beneath his jacket and—the glasses. The damn glasses. Your stomach starts churning at the sight, the smallest of cracks in your reserve starting to form.

“You’re early,” you say, giving him a questioning look.

Changbin shrugs. “I was excited.”

“Sweet talking to me isn't gonna work, you know?”

“I don’t have a reason to sweet talk, I’m just being honest.” Changbin’s teeth are white when he flashes them, bright and sincere. He makes talking so easy, like he’s practiced it a thousand times. You like that.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Changbin grins, grabbing your hand and leading you down towards his car.

🎳

Changbin, as you come to find out, is full of surprises.

First, he’s ridiculously good at driving. One hand on the wheel, the other mindlessly playing with yours where his hand rests on top of your thigh. The way he maneuvers the car is, well, it’s hot. It’s also really hard to focus your attention anywhere but his hands, especially when you know what they can do.

Second, he’s really, really silly. Most of the usual small talk made on a first date was done over text since it took so long to find a day that both of you were free, but that just made it so falling into step beside one another was that much easier.

Changbin isn’t afraid to sing along with whatever song is on the radio. In fact, he’s actually really good at singing. Well, when he’s not forcing the dramatics and belting at the top of his lungs while he pretends to romantically serenade you in the passenger’s seat. You can’t help but giggle, swatting his hand away when he makes exaggerated gestures in your direction during certain high notes.

Third, he makes your heart flutter. And not just the usual Oh you’re cute kind. No. Changbin makes your heart feel like it’s going to melt into the floor, all of your senses hyper aware of every part of him, wanting and craving more even when he’s right next to you.

He makes you laugh at unexpected times, encourages you to keep speaking if you ramble on for too long about something completely random, and his smile—oh man. Maybe Felix was right to be worried. Not about you messing up, but about you being absolutely head over heels for this guy.

By the time Changbin pulls into an empty parking spot, the two of you have settled into a natural back and forth that has your head reeling with how much fun it is.

“A bowling alley?” you ask, turning to him. Changbin turns the car off, stares at you in expectation. “You spent, like, five minutes telling me that you were taking me to the one place you feel most at home and it’s a bowling alley?”

“Woah, hold on. Are you mocking me?” Changbin smiles again, and suddenly nothing else matters.

“No I’m just—I feel bad.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Bad? Why?”

“I’m gonna, like, kick your ass at this. You know that right?” You say, chuckling.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, and then he’s laughing. A high pitched, steady trill of laughter that sends you into your own fit of giggles just from the residual joy that’s oozing out of him.

Once he’s composed himself enough, he points a finger in your direction, “Oh you are so on.”

The alley is pretty empty, the only other bowlers being at a far lane at the end of the building. Changbin takes the liberty of paying and grabbing both of your shoes, and you silently follow behind him as he leads you to your assigned lane.

“Weight?” he asks, tying his laces.

You glance up from your own shoes, watching as he shucks off his jacket. His arms flex nicely under the material of his shirt, straining against the fabric as he ties a knot.

“Huh?” you ask, not entirely present.

Changbin stands, smirks slightly. “What ball weight do you use?”

“Oh, uh, an eight please.”

He nods and disappears off towards the racks of balls, leaving you alone to scold yourself.

“Christ. Get a grip.” You mumble, smacking your forehead lightly with the palm of your hand.

It’s been a while since you bowled. When you were younger, your dad used to take you every once in a while and marvel at how good you were. That was a long time ago, when you had the time to enjoy things rather than work nonstop to keep yourself afloat. It’s kind of bittersweet being back in an alley, different circumstances but still the same familiarity.

Changbin comes back with two balls in his hands and places them on the ball rack. He glances over to where you’re keying in the names, smiling softly when he notices that you put him down as BIN.

“Ready to have all of your hopes and dreams crushed?” you ask, knocking your shoulder with his.

Changbin fakes a stumble, rubs his arm like you full on punched him. “Oh God, I don’t think I can play now.”

“Nice try sweetheart,” you scoff, picking up your ball just as the screen signals for the game to start, “Watch and learn.”

You move up to the beginning of the lane, trying to ignore the way Changbin whistles playfully when you do. The ball fits perfectly in your hand, round and smooth. One deep breath, you pull your arm back, slowly walk forward, and bend at just the right moment to send it off with a thud as it hits the lane. You watch with your breath held, hope that you’re able to prove you’re not all talk, and smile proudly when the ball goes crashing through the center pin, knocking them all out.

Changbin’s jaw is on the floor when you turn around. “Your turn, hot shot.” You say sweetly, patting his shoulder as you plop down in the seat next to him.

He clears his throat. “Alright.” He grunts, stretching his arms for dramatic effect. He lets out a loud yell, one of those Hoo! noises that people make before they’re about to do something crazy.

As he lines up to go, he turns, kisses his hand and blows it in your direction. “This one’s for you!” He shouts, winking when you hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

You watch as he rolls it forward, leans his body to the left when it curves way too far to the right, and then your hand is flying to your mouth to stifle your laughter when the neon pink ball goes straight into the gutter.

“Ah!” He screams, throwing his hands up and behind his head. He whirls around, points an accusatory finger in your direction, “You did this!”

“Me? What’d I do?”

“You distracted me!”

“I did not!

“How am I supposed to focus when the most beautiful girl in the world is watching me?”

“I—” you scoff, fighting the blush on your cheeks as Changbin walks toward you with a shit-eating grin, “Shut up. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He crouches in front of you, trying to catch your eyes when you avert his gaze.

“Stop sweet talking. That’s a violation of the game rules. Cheating. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Trying to distract you or trying to get you to fall head over heels for me?”

You blink, “You don’t have to try and do that.”

Changbin searches your eyes for a long while, like he’s trying to decipher whether or not you’re being sincere. It looks on his face is one of disbelief, like it’s hard for him to be convinced that you reciprocate any of what he feels.

“Now who’s sweet talking?” He laughs.

“I’m not sweet talking, I’m just being honest.”

“That’s my line!”

“Well,” you say, standing to take your turn, “I wasn’t gonna steal your bad bowling skills was I?”

The game continues on after that. Changbin somehow manages to score three more gutterballs until you decide to take pity on him.

“Here, like this,” you say, walking up behind him. Changbin freezes when you press yourself up against his back, your hand steady on his forearm as you adjust his positioning.

“This is a little—”

“What? Don’t like it?” You giggle.

He clears his throat, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

When he sends the ball straight into the middle of the pins, earning his first strike of the night, he can barely contain his excitement as he yells, picking you up and spinning you around while you laugh and throw your arms around his neck.

It feels like floating, being with Changbin. He’s goofy and sweet and he knows exactly how to push your buttons all while making you feel as though you’re the only girl in the world. His smile is as bright as the sun and the way his eyes lock on to yours at any given point in time have you wishing you could lose yourself in them forever.

🎳

In the end, you win. It’s not a surprise to either of you, but Changbin couldn’t be bothered to care less. It doesn’t matter to him, not when he feels like he’s won the lottery every time you smile in his direction. And if that wasn’t enough, when you silently slip your hand into his as the two of you walk back to the car, he swears that he’s the richest man alive.

The feeling is mutual for you, too. Changbin has a way of making you feel like nothing else exists, not when he’s grinning at you from ear to ear and making you laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He’s unprecedented, a stroke of good luck, someone who came into your life when you least expected it.

Changbin, to you, is uncharted territory. He laughs loud and smiles unabashedly. If there’s a lull in conversation he’s not afraid to fill it with one of his many noises or silly dances. He says what he thinks and doesn’t care if it’s too cheesy or makes your cheeks turn just a shade darker with embarrassment.

Changbin is consistent; the first guy that hasn’t thrown you for a loop when it comes to figuring out who he is and what he likes. Changbin is someone you could see yourself falling in love with, one terrible pick up line at a time.

“So…” he says as soon as he walks you to your front door, “I had fun.”

You laugh, glancing down at where he has your pinkies linked on both hands. He’s so cute, everything about him. Changbin, Changbin, Changbin.

“Mmhm, it was really fun teaching you how to bowl.”

Changbin groans, leans his head against your front door. “I was under pressure.”

“That’s okay, I thought it was cute.”

“Hm. Does that mean I didn’t ruin my chances at a second date?”

“Depends,” you say, moving your hands up to clasp behind his neck. Changbin’s immediately fall to your waist, almost like second nature. Right, right, right. Everything feels right. “You could come inside and show me if it’s worth it or not.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, “Don’t do that. You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

Changbin’s words are slow, each one more breathless than the last. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Maybe I want that.”

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours in silent question, “Because I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I first saw you.”

When his lips finally connect with yours, you’re thankful for the grip he has on your waist that prevents you from stumbling. Sweet like the syrup he bought for you that first morning, kissing Changbin is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not hurried or messy; it’s not done with the intent of something more to be given. It’s slow, purposeful, Changbin takes his time like he’s worried if he doesn’t you might break right beneath his fingertips.

He hums softly when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulls you closer until you’re flush against him. Chest to chest, heart to heart—Changbin holds you like he never wants to let go.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are glossy, shining with adoration. You could get used to that.

“So you don’t want to come inside?” You ask again, smiling when he bites his lip.

“Not tonight babe, it’s only the first date. I don’t put out like that.”

You scoff. “Yeah? Well you definitely put something somewhere when I was—”

Changbin cuts you off with a palm over your mouth. “What kind of pancakes do you want tomorrow?” He laughs.

“Mmrrnnf.” You say, muffled his hand. When he removes it, you push your lip out into a pout. “I don’t want pancakes—just want you.”

Changbin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then lets his forehead fall against yours. “You’re making it really, really hard to hold myself back right now.”

You giggle, jutting your lips forward to give him a quick kiss. “Good, it’s working.”

He sighs. “Second date, and then maybe we can talk about…other things. But right now, I just want you to enjoy this. Let yourself settle with the fact that I really, really like you. This wasn’t just a one night stand for me, nor did I ever want it to be.” He plants a kiss on your nose, “I’m kind of, like, crazy about you.”

“Me too,” you say quietly, “About all of it. I want to keep seeing you, Bin. I want to see where this goes.”

Changbin beams. “Good.” He leans down to kiss you one last time, nothing more than a press of his lips to yours, but it’s more full of emotion than the last.

When he pulls away and starts walking backwards to head back down to his car, he feels like he’s on top of the world.

“I’ll text you in the morning?”

You nod. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Good,” he says with a wink, “The pancakes are on me.”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words. It’s crazy how something so small, something so simple can make you feel so strongly for someone. But you guess that Changbin is just like that.

And when you open the door, Felix’s entire body falling over the threshold from where he was leaning against it, you can’t even be bothered to get mad.

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#changbin x reader #skzstarnet #changbin fluff #changbin smut #changbin angst #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin au #changbin one shot #changbin fanfic #changbin fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #skz x reader #first date series #first date series : gutter ball

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