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studioeisa · 26 days ago

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it’s kind of a funny story 🫧 seungcheol x reader.

just when you think your walk of shame couldn’t get any more shameful…

★ word count: 1.1k ★ genre/warnings: 18+ content. no explicit smut, but implied sexual content told through flashbacks so! mdni! + romance, humor, fluff -ish. alternate universe: non-idol, mentions of alcohol. ★ footnotes: this is for the loml, @heartepub! (prompt was also from her) nooo viv don't die from thesis you're so sexy aha... 💙

There are three things you register when you wake up.

First: It’s cold. There’s sunlight streaking through the windows and you’re under a blanket— which is decisively not yours, by the way— yet you’re freezing, chilled to the bone. The answer to that question brings you to realization number two.

You’re stripped down to your underclothes. Every inch of your body is rebelling at you for your mistreatment. The copious amount of alcohol you’d consumed the night before, the consequences of that raging bender. All of which leads to the last but not the least of the facts—

There’s an arm around your waist, a solid weight pressed against your back. It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to put a name to the body curved around you like a parentheses.

Cheol, he had told you on the dance floor, his eyes glinting under the low lights. Seungcheol, if you want this to be more than a one-time thing.

It’s ridiculous, how that sad excuse for a pick-up line had drawn you in. Your memories of last night are a blur. Flashes of hands, of lips, of Seungcheol’s low voice coaxing you apart like a prayer.

Carefully, you peel yourself from the bed. Your body aches in seven different places. Inasmuch as you want to blame all the Long Island iced teas and Cuba libres you’d downed, you know it has less to do with that and everything to do with the man you’re about to walk away from.

Seungcheol is still asleep, his face buried into his pillow. His chest rises and falls with a kind of steadiness that makes it hard to believe how utterly reckless he’d been with you just hours ago.

All of that blurs together, too. There’s bits and bobs of it in your mind’s eye: His hand in your hair, your knees on the carpet. You wince.

You try to not make any noise as you clean up. This was the name of the game, after all. This was going to be a story you tell your friends on your way home, a tale regaled via a long-winded voice note. An uptick in your body count. Another reason why you should never drink beer before liquor.

Your dress is crumpled on the floor. You go to pick it up—

The zipper is shredded.

The seam, split clean down the back.

What the fuck.

Your pulse hammers as you hold up the ruined garment, blinking like that’ll somehow fix it. It’s not like the dress holds any sentimental value. You’d bought it online specifically for your night out, had prepared to outgrow it in a year or two. You didn’t think you’d only get one wear out of it.

The dress’ demise comes back to you slowly. Seungcheol’s impatient hands, the desperate way he had tugged the fabric when it wouldn’t come off fast enough.

You remember the way his muscles had rippled underneath the low light. The faint sound of tearing. His muttered curse, his half-hearted apology said right before he dove in to relish in the newly-revealed skin. You’d been too far gone to care, then.

Now, though? Oh, you care.

You’re still gaping at the dress when you hear the bed creak. “Good morning, beautiful,” the culprit grouses.

You can tell that it’s his usual pleasantry, his typical cheeky greeting to all of his conquests. All that bravado fades, though, when you face him with the tatters of your dress still in your hand.

“Ah, shit.” Seungcheol’s voice is raspy from alcohol and sleep. He props himself up on his elbows, and— to give him some credit— he looks genuinely repentant.

His hair is a mess; his face, already a deep red as he registers what you’re holding.

“I— I can pay for that,” he stutters.

It’s almost comical, really. This is the same man who had you writhing underneath him, who had whispered pure filth into the crook of your neck. Now, he was blushing like a kid caught stealing from a cookie jar.

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, like you haven’t quite decided if you’re going to be angry or laugh. “I don’t even think a tailor could save this.”

Seungcheol rubs his face with both hands. “I don’t know what came over me,” he groans.

One of your eyebrows cock upwards. “I think you do.”

He peeks at you between his fingers. You watch the way his throat bobs as his gaze flickers over your bare legs, the marks he left blooming across your skin. Claims he shouldn’t be able to make, and yet he’d gone and taken all the same.

“It’s not funny,” he says into the heel of his palm, but he’s already grinning despite his voice remaining low and rough.

“It’s kind of funny,” you counter.

You let the ruined dress drop to the floor. It looks even more pitiful as it pools around your feet, and Seungcheol’s jaw ticks at the blatancy of his misgivings.

“That’s never happened before,” he notes. Despite the fact he looks worse for wear, you can decipher the sincerity behind his words.

This was not part of the plan, not a plot point in the usual story. Both of you were far more accustomed to clean cuts. One-night stands with no promises; quiet come-and-go’s.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he says, fingers curling in the sheets. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you just know he’s contemplating his next course of action. Loaning you some of his spare clothes would be the way to go. He could also—

Seungcheol’s voice drops like a weight. “You could… stay a little longer.”

Until what, exactly, you’d love to know. Is he planning a same-day delivery for a replacement dress? Does he intend to hold you hostage until he’s a little more willing to send you off in a shirt he can bear to lose?

You should be pissed. You should scold him, should rummage through his cabinet yourself and be on your merry way. The name of the game.

But the way he’s looking at you— wrecked and wanting, like he might split apart if you walk out his door— makes it impossible to do anything but crawl back into his bed.

He’s still embarrassed. You can tell from the way he tenses when you kiss him, the way his fingers barely ghost over your hip. Seungcheol tastes like cola, like something distinctly him, and like The Biggest Mistake You’re Ever Going To Make.

To hell with it.

“Try not to wreck the only clothes I have left,” you say against his mouth, “Seungcheol.”

You feel his smile instead of seeing it. The way his lips curl around yours, pleased at your choice.

He tugs at the waistband of your underwear, his touch a lot more gentle than last night. As he pulls it off, he mumbles, “No promises.”

#seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff #scoups x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #svt fluff #svt smut #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #(💎) page: svt #(🥡) notebook #why do i lowkey yearn for a part two .#[like GIRL I WROTE IT WDYM]

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purple-plum-petals · 5 months ago

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Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?

⊱ Connection ⊰ || Mr. Gap X Reader

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Character(s): Mr. Gap (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Return End), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms (Reader briefly uses physical pain to distract themselves from their emotional discomfort; they also sleep to avoid their emotions), Creature/Monster X Human Relationship (Mr. Gap doesn’t fully comprehend or understand the concept of love the way that humans do, but that’s a barrier for, like… the majority of the cast haha). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Slight Angst, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,685 Request: “Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?” Author’s Note: Yipee, my first Homicipher request! Thank you for sending one in! I find Mr. Gap’s character quite entertaining – I loved the running gag of him asking the MC for different parts of their body and being like “for real?” whenever you said no. I found his desire to brag to be quite endearing, too, strangely enough. A lot of the moments that had me chuckling involved Mr. Gap, so I’m somewhat fond of his character as a result. I haven’t written any horror-meets-romance stories since my Creepypasta days, so I apologize if this is a little rough or OOC. I’m still trying to finish the game and digest all the lore haha.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡

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Living within the other world had become your new normal at this point, even if you spent most of your days curled under the covers of whatever bed you could find. You slept whenever you had the chance. It wasn’t necessarily because you were tired, but rather a desire to keep your mind from wandering too much. You still found the occasional earthquakes and frequently shifting dimly-lit hallways confusing to traverse at best or frustrating to deal with at worst, but you hoped you would slowly grow to get used to them with more time.

You run your hands down your face as you lay on the strangely pristine white bed, staring down at the blue bag that rested by your feet on the floor. For whatever reason, there was a strange feeling of loneliness that was deep-seated in your chest. It was a weight pulling you down, and it was one that had lingered for quite some time now.

When you returned to the other world, you realized that you would most likely never be able to see Mr. Silvair or Mr. Crawling again. Despite telling yourself it was fine, that life was all about encounters and departures, that horrendous emptiness in your heart hadn’t diminished yet.

You remember when Mr. Gap brought you back to the other world in exchange for a heart – your mind is conflicted when you think about the organ you had given him, a heart that wasn’t yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to think about it for longer than you need to.

You try to remember his hand reaching out from the dark void of the bag after arriving in the strange world once more. You remember the way his cold palm felt against your scalp, lightly patting your hair in a way you thought was meant to be comforting… only for him to state he wanted your head with that jokester-esque grin of his.

You chuckle quietly to yourself at the memory of the expression that crossed his face whenever you told him that, no, he’s not allowed to take your fingers or whatever else seems to pique his interest at the moment. Then, your mind remembers the look on his face when you asked if he was worried about you. Mr. Gap didn’t seem as though he was capable of experiencing emotions the way that most humans were, but, well… it was someone to talk to, at least, even if you run the risk of him asking for an organ or body part or hair. What did he even do with that stuff, anyway?

Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes fall to the bag on the floor. He really only appeared whenever he wanted, but maybe you could see if he was in the mood to at least startle you as he so often enjoyed doing. With a deep breath, you reach down and grab the bag by its black straps, feeling the somewhat rough fabric against your palms. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, per se, but it was a reminder that at least you could still feel.

You open the carrier, and the only thing that greets you is that inky blackness. You briefly wonder if it was an infinite darkness held within the unassuming gym bag, and what would happen if you just threw random things inside for the fun of it. However, as you stare into the void, a familiar face pops into view, effectively startling you out of your trance.

Mr. Gap smiles even wider at your reaction, seemingly proud of himself for still managing to startle you. You’d think that you would be more immune to jumpscares after spending so much time in the other world, but apparently not.

“Scared you.” Mr. Gap speaks proudly, the language you had slowly been absorbing over your journey becoming easier and easier to decipher and remember. That was good at least, you thought. It would be far too difficult to live in a place where you couldn’t even understand what everyone was saying.

You roll your eyes at him, speaking under your breath but loud enough so he could hear your muttering, “You’re rude, you know that?”

He stares up at you with an unimpressed expression, waiting for you to speak again. Eventually, you tell him with a frown, speaking to him in a language he understood, “You mean.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, yet he seemingly did not take any offense to your comment. Then, his gaze returns to your face, and you two simply stare at each other in a prolonged silence. Well, now what? How exactly do you explain to a creature that you were lonely when they probably couldn’t even empathize with what you were experiencing? Did you even know the word for lonely in their language, if there was one?

“I, umm…” You pause, taking a moment to try and figure out the words to say, averting your gaze to a crack in the concrete flooring of the room you had made into your makeshift home. Mr. Gap is surprisingly patient, staring up at you while your hands begin to fidget with the textured straps of the bag. You look back down at him and say, your voice is surprisingly soft, “I upset. Want talk.”

Then, almost as if on cue, he smiles and reaches a hand out of the bag, making a grabbing motion as he asks, “Give heart?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure what else you were expecting, and now you felt like an idiot for expecting literally anything else to come out of his mouth. You frown deeply and quickly zip up the bag, disregarding the shocked expression on his face at the action, before tossing it on the floor without a second thought. You let out a groan, clawing your hands down your face while trying to ignore the stinging sensation your nails left in their wake across your skin.

At least the pain raking across your flesh was a distraction from the ache in your chest.

You decide, once more, to take a nap. Whenever your mind was racing or the thoughts became too much to bear, you slept. Honestly, there wasn’t much else you could do here. After all, you weren’t in the mood to go around swinging at anything and everything with your crowbar, especially since you had vowed to only use it in self-defense. This world was your home now, and you didn’t want to make enemies who would, in return, only make your existence more miserable.

You close your eyes and attempt to drift off into the world of dreams, a place that wasn’t this world nor the one you came from, yet your attention is grabbed by the feeling of something shifting under the covers. Your eyes fly open faster than light as your fist grabs the thick comforter, lifting it quickly while your other hand went to grab the crowbar you kept by your bedside.

However, Mr. Gap’s face comes into view, and your hand pauses as soon as your fingers graze across the rusted metal of your weapon. You frown deeply and tell him with a sternness in your tone, “I told you to stop doing that – I’m going to accidentally kill you one of these days.”

“Why upset?” He asks you suddenly, and it’s a question that has your mind stopped in its tracks. You hadn’t been expecting him to come back so soon, let alone ask you a question like that. For a moment, you wonder if he was worried about you, only for the memory of the last time you asked him that question to pop into your head.

You lay there, staring at the darkness under the covers, debating on whether or not you should tell him your true feelings. After some moment of contemplation, you decide to try and speak with him about what you have been experiencing. After all, the worst thing that would probably happen is him asking for your heart again or something.

“I…” You start, pausing for a moment to swallow, your tongue strangely heavy in your mouth, “No home. I lonely.”

Mr. Gap’s brows furrow and he states plainly, “This home.”

Just as you thought, he didn’t understand. If anything, your statement only seemed to confuse him further. His expression was also different, one you hadn’t quite seen on him before. You had seen him shocked, smug, and displeased, but the look on his face appeared almost… frustrated?

You begin to try and snake your way out from under the covers, feeling like going on a walk now instead of trying to take a nap. However, the room suddenly goes dark as Mr. Gap pulls you back under the sheets, covering your entire body in the surprisingly soft duvet. For a moment, you feel panic swell in your veins and you wonder if something you had said upset him to the point of wanting to kill you. However, no pain ever came. You just heard his voice state once more, “This home.”

“No, I know it’s my home now, I just…” You speak, your mind going through word after word, attempting to translate what you want to tell him in his language. It was a little unnerving, being unable to see anything in the darkness that now enveloped your body. You pushed that anxiety aside, though, telling Mr. Gap, “I… miss touch. Miss connection. This world different – lonely.”

There’s once again no reply, and soon the feeling of another under the sheets disappears. You let out a long sigh as you remove yourself from under the covers, Mr. Gap no longer under the blanket with you. You take a moment to compose yourself before standing up from the bed and grabbing your reliable crowbar – it was walking time.

You walked and walked in circles until your legs felt ready to collapse, returning to your makeshift base after what seemed like hours. You fell face-first onto the bed, your crowbar slipping from your hand to the concrete floor with a loud clatter; you probably would have cringed at the noise if not for the exhaustion in your bones. There’s a long stretch of silence, and you feel sleep start to creep into your mind, when a simple “Hello” snaps you out of your stupor.

You turn your head from where it was nuzzled into a pillow to look down at the bag you had tossed to the floor earlier, seeing Mr. Gap peeking up at you from inside. You wonder if you should say anything back before eventually relenting, echoing to him the same greeting.

There’s a shuffling noise, the sound of paper being crinkled before you watch as he pulls out what appears to be a magazine, holding it out for you to take. You sit up in the bed and look down at him with a blank expression, saying with your lips pulled into a flat line, “No head. No finger. No heart–”

“Not want anything.” He replies, effectively cutting you off as he holds out the magazine closer to you. It seems as though he can read the expression of pure disbelief on your face before he clarifies, “Take paper. You have.”

Despite some reservations, you eventually do reach out and take the small book from his grasp, whispering your thanks. It’s a relatively new magazine, surprisingly, and only the edges of the glossy paper seemed crinkled. You flip through the pages, wondering what information you were supposed to be deriving from the book. After all, it didn’t seem like anything special–...

Then, a picture of two people hugging appeared. Two humans, holding each other in a tight embrace with bright and happy smiles on their faces. One was kissing the other’s cheek, and the mere sight alone caused your breath to hitch. Oh, it seemed like ages since the last time you felt the level of comfort with another like the people in the picture, and there was a part of yourself that regretted coming back. It wasn’t like you belonged in your world anymore, either… you really were a monster with nowhere to call home, weren’t you?

“Why upset?” Mr. Gap asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. You look down at him and wonder how he knew you were hurting. Then, you heard the sound of something hitting the pages of the magazine in your hand. Your gaze returns to the book below you, noticing the water droplets that had fallen down your cheeks and onto the magazine, causing the ink on the paper to bleed slightly. You quickly wipe your face yet, before you can do anything else, two arms wrap around your waist and your body is once again shrouded in the darkness under the covers as Mr. Gap pulls you under.

His body is cold to the touch, you note, yet it’s not an unpleasant sensation. Before you have the chance to speak, you hear Mr. Gap tapping the page of the magazine in your hand, asking you quietly, “You want that? Touch?”

“Do I… want a hug?” You ask him, wishing you had the ability to see in the dark. You hum and lay your head back, enjoying the softness of the pillow underneath your skull, “I want good touch.”

You close your eyes and wait, expecting Mr. Gap to ask for something in return or simply disappear… but he doesn’t, and you find your eyes flying open when you feel his arms wrap around your torso. His touch was experimental, uncertain as his palms rested against your lower back. His head is resting on your stomach and although you cannot see him, you know he is staring at your face through the darkness.

You suddenly find yourself becoming choked up, the tears forming in your eyes as your arms instinctively wrap around him as well, holding him close to your body like one would hold a stuffed toy. Mr. Gap makes a strangled noise, yet you don’t let up on your hold. You sit up on the bed, dragging him along with you, before nuzzling your face into what you assumed was his neck.

He’s completely frozen, his hold on you never once faltering yet never once tightening, either. A part of you wonders if you broke him or something, especially considering he had never really been the physically affectionate type. You both sit like this under the covers for a long time, and you eventually feel his body and muscles relax under your touch.

While the ache in your chest wasn’t gone, it had definitely diminished as you both held onto each other with a tinge of desperation in both of your actions. You let out a sigh, and you feel Mr. Gap shiver as your warm breath fans against his cold skin. The dried tear stains on your cheeks made your skin feel tight, but you smiled nevertheless as you whispered to him, “Thank you. I grateful – happy.”

Your hand reaches up, cupping his cheek in your palm as you slowly guide his face to yours. Oh, how you wish you could have seen his expression as you placed a kiss on his cheek, your slightly chapped lips pressing against his marred flesh. You feel him jolt, and you wonder if he’ll disappear right then and there. He doesn’t though, and instead, you feel his hands remove themselves from your hips to hold your face in his grasp.

Instinctively, you close your eyes, and you feel the slight tremble in his fingers as he leans closer. You smile softly, finding his nervous demeanor to be quite cute considering how smug he tended to be. Then, you felt it, his lips against your cheek.

Mr. Gap’s lips were in even worse shape than yours, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as he placed shockingly gentle kisses against the apple of your cheek. You giggle at the sweet action, the noise of your laughter egging him on as his kisses become more confident and more frequent. You do the same, placing feather-light kisses against his skin, whispering to him as you pepper his face in smooches, “Happy, happy, happy...”

#🌸 . plum writes #💌 . anon #homicipher #文字化化 #homicipher x reader #mr gap #mr gap x reader #homicipher x you #mr gap x you #homicipher imagines #homicipher drabbles #imagines #drabble #one shot #angst #fluff #x reader #reader insert

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myjjongie · 2 months ago

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✶ THE TASTE OF MINT ── l. heeseung

IN WHICH: you have a big collection of lip balms, but never expected heeseung to make a mission out of it. the mission in question? finding which lip balm he likes the most on you.

PAIRING: bf!heeseung x gf!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lower case intended !!, one shot, established relationship, kissing, they make out lowkey, fluff, skinship WORD COUNT: 1.3k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: we are gonna ignore the fact that two of my recent oneshots are both kissing related. they are MAJOR coincidences LMAO. also where are all my mint lip balm enjoyers at ????

heeseung always thought it was absurd that you had an abundant amount of lip balms stashed away in your bathroom drawer. not to mention heeseung found the growing collection to be pointless.

the idea of collecting something that you only needed one of didn’t make sense to him. he always thought that but never said anything since truthfully he found the growing collection adorable. despite his opinion on it, he enjoyed your smile more than he disliked your minor hobby.

that small dislike faded when he kissed your lips one day. what heeseung found astonished him. there was the unexpected burst of flavor from your lips. he remembered the taste of the flavor being pineapple. almost as if he was drinking a pina colada. since that day heeseung made a secret mission out of every kiss he took. hoping one specific kiss would lead him to his favorite lip balm on you.

unbeknownst to heeseung, today would be that day.

per usual you were getting ready for an outing with heeseung. you stood in front of the bathroom sink finishing off your hair. all that was left was applying lip balm. you opened the infamous drawer, as heeseung would call it at times. rummaging around you frowned at some of the ones you picked out. you picked out vanilla, it was a classic flavor but you weren’t in the mood for it. rummaging around again you found a cotton candy flavor, then honey, then a strange assortment of fruit flavors. with a sigh you ran your fingers through your hair. frustration soon building at the overwhelming options.

“are you ready yet babe?” your head turned at heeseung’s voice. an even deeper sigh left your lips at your boyfriend waiting patiently for you in the other room.

“yeah almost give me 5 more minutes!” you shouted out to him.

“this is ridiculous… all these lip balms yet i can’t pick out a single one i want to wear…” you cursed out under your breath at the new time crunch.

soon you went back to digging in the drawer. hoping to find one you’d actually wear. once hitting the bottom you did a little more moving around and grabbed a random lip balm not even bothering to look. hopefully the random pick would surprise you enough to wear it. pulling your hand out from the stash of tubes you open your hand to read the label. it was a mint flavored lip balm.

before your collection grew out of control, mint was always your go to. the feeling of the soothing chill on your lips felt good everytime you applied it. that memory alone made you excited to put it on.

“no way i forgot about this.” your voice was mixed with a bit of surprise and shock. you couldn’t believe you forgot about your original favorite flavor.

without anything else to think about, you applied the lip balm. there it was, that nice chill feeling that danced along your lips. finally feeling satisfied with your choice you closed the lip balm. settling the tube down on the counter, you got ready to walk away from the mirror. turning around you were startled by a figure. a scream escaped your lips as you realized the figure was heeseung. his silent approach startled you more than you anticipated.

“heeseung you scared me!”

“sorry. i just came over to check on you. you took longer than 5 minutes sweetie.” heeseung’s voice sounded worried as he focused on your startled form.

placing your hand on your chest you eased yourself from the sudden scare.

“it’s okay hee. im ready though so we can leave now.” you let off a smile to your boyfriend to help ease him. you could see a growing worried look stitched into his brows.

before stepping outside of the bathroom heeseung stopped you. his hand gently grazing your cheek. instinctively melting into his touch you couldn’t help but look up at him. your eyes studied his face, the worried look now dissipated. you realized as well his gaze wasn’t meeting yours. it was fixed a bit lower. you already had an idea of where his eyes were staring so longingly, it was at your lips.

as much as heeseung tried hiding it. you figured out what he was doing. noticing every time you applied lip balm he was magically there ready to give you a kiss. it didn’t take long to piece heeseung’s actions together. all those short kisses was him trying to find a lip balm he enjoyed on you. you never disclosed the new found information to heeseung. since watching him make a mission out of it was too cute. you then remembered it had been a while since you wore a mint flavor. so this one could interest him or maybe it wouldn’t at all.

heeseung couldn’t help taking his thumb to gently rub it across your bottom lip. he smirked slightly at the all familiar feeling of the slight waxy consistency, which now stuck to his thumb.

“you know your lips look extra nice right now. out of all the brands you use i don’t think i’ve seen you use this one yet?” heeseung was still focused on your lips barely paying attention to you answer him.

“oh i found a lip balm i haven’t used in a while. what do you think?”

“it looks really good.” heeseung responded absentmindedly leaning down to give you a quick kiss. his thumb now resting beneath your chin gently tilting your face up.

right away heeseung felt that cooling sensation that coated your lips the moment you put the lip balm on. he found enjoyment in the feeling, the way the flavor left off a refreshing taste to his lips. after a few seconds he parted away from the kiss. his thumb still tucked beneath your chin. you noticed the way he stood there. you asked yourself if he was wondering what the flavor was. it was a hard one to place since mint was a random flavor on its own.

“mint.” heeseung murmured underneath his breath. then once again his lips were met with yours. his lips grazed against yours gently but more earnestly. this time the kiss felt more heated, more intimate as if he wanted to take you whole.

a soft whimper escaped from you as heeseung’s teeth grazed your bottom lip. the feeling sent shivers down your spine. the sudden urgency from him caught you off guard. your hands placed onto his chest softly tapping at him to break away wanting to catch your breath. unfortunately to your dismay heeseung’s hand now snaked to the back of your neck keeping you steady. the new hold helped him kiss you deeper and more desperately. despite the itching feeling to catch your breath. you couldn't help but melt into the kiss. his lips moving about with need making your knees weaken. the soft sounds of your kissing echoed within the bathroom. your fingers felt like they were on fire from how tight you held onto his shoulders for support.

the kiss to heeseung was the same as any other kiss you both had. he didn’t understand why he felt so needy for your lips this time around. maybe it was the chilling effect of the mint that made the taste of your lips feel intoxicating to him. heeseung wasn’t able to put a finger on it, but he knew he wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon.

after what felt like forever, heeseung finally pulled back from your lips. though his hand still lingered on your neck, the smirk on his face deepened as he took in your dazed expression. looking into the reflection behind you, he couldn’t help but notice how your flushed face was mirroring his own.

heeseung smirked softly, his hand finding its way back to your chin. “yeah mint is definitely my favorite.”

without further hesitation he leaned in for another kiss.

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek

©myjjongie 2025

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lightaflaem · 6 months ago

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𝐩𝐨𝐯: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭.

pairing: tattoo artist!suna x f!reader

genre: semi-angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive

word count: 5.1k

content warnings: profanities, suggestive themes, mentions of needles, sticks, poking, sharp objects, blood, mentions of abuse, scars, violence, trauma, addiction

summary: after countless attempts to convince your tattoo artist college friend, suna rintaro, to do your body art, you couldn’t understand why he keeps on rejecting you. not until he told and showed you the real reason why.

“Is this the chair where your clients sit to get their tattoos done?” you asked, pointing at the leather chair in front of you.

“Yeah, where else do you think I got it done?” Suna answered, not removing his eyes from the patterned tape he’s been wrapping on the grip on the gun.

“So, when are you going to do mine?” you hopped on the leather material, arm resting on the extended side as you clean your antecubital area with your other free hand. It’s obviously not set for your height as you tried making yourself comfortable on the depthness of the chair.

“Very funny, Y/N. Now get off that chair and help me set these up. There's small sized gloves under the cabinet beside that chair, wear those before touching anything.” he ordered, not giving a single fuck about your question. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and started searching for the gloves in the compartment.

“Why won’t you do my tatts?”

“‘Cause you're my friend.”

“Seriously, Rintaro? You have favoritism.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t have favoritism and I don’t do tatts for my friends because I already know them. My brain becomes a mush when it comes to thinking of designs when I already know the person.”

Your jaw dropped at his answer. You don’t buy it. Seriously, what the fuck is he playing with? Irked, you intentionally wore the pair of latex with much more force, making it slap against your wrist hard enough to leave marks. You placed a sterile mat on the stainless surface of the table, aligning the vaseline-coated small cups horizontally and started loading it up with black and red inks.

“You’d make a great apprentice.” he commented as he watched you do the preparations the same way he does it before every session. Each and every step was done with fragility, just like how you retained his routine by watching him do the same thing for the past few years of being with him.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get a red tattoo,” you spoke as you continued filling the cups. “It’s sexy and I think I’ll look hot in it.”

“But you always look hot, with or without that red ink.” Suna said casually, making your heartbeat accelerate but you didn’t let it get into you because he probably said it to his clients most of the time.

“I know right. That’s why when my college friend became a tattoo artist, the force of getting it done doubled up. Specifically by him.” you know that you didn’t fail to emphasize how badly you wanted to get your body art done by him but maybe for him, he saw it as nothing but a mere compliment for his works.

Who would have thought that the quiet kid from one of your elective classes way back in college a few years ago who subsequently also became your close friend because of a mutual friend, the Miya twins, who were your classmates since you’re in elementary school, will become a famous tattoo artist specializing in line arts, minimalism, and patchworks.

Suna also probably never saw that his future will be like this. From just surviving everyday to a big time personality of inks and needles. With the freedom and peace he gained from following his calling, he also took a leap of faith to change his physical appearance from cropping his hair shorter, both arms, chest, and neck full of patchwork of random tattoos, and his signature snake bites that captivated the hearts of his crowd.

He never liked fame, though. He always hides whenever he’s got the chance to escape from paparazzi and respectfully declines the clients he doesn't want to work with and cannot work with. He's hard to get. That makes him more fascinating in the eyes of others. It’s like he’s hidden behind those inks and it will take thousands of needles to uncover. He’s surely one of a kind.

His skill in generating different designs specifically for each client is no joke. A lot of local and international artists and internet personalities are hitting up his instagram direct messages, asking for his details of booking. You vividly remember one of his interviews wherein he was asked if he ever recycled a design for different clients and what makes him unique from other tattoo artists. He answered“Each client has their own blueprint depending on their cup of tea. That’s what makes me unique from other artists. I created my own scheme and let it align on my client’s skin like it’s running out of breath and ink’s the only thing it needed to satisfy its hunger.”

He’s distinct. He’s consistent. He’s a genius.

But why the hell wouldn't he do your tattoo?

“You're an ink virgin, right? Why do you want to get your tattoo done by me so much?” With much curiosity, Suna leaned against the chair, arms crossing against his chest as his eyes squeezed, waiting to scrutinize your answer.

“Why not? It’s because it’s you.” you simply answered back, finally capping the bottle of ink. In your peripheral vision, you saw how Suna’s eyes dilated but still kept his unpleasant posture. “But if you don’t want to ink my body then it’s fine with me. I’ve been pestering you about it since you started and it’s been a few years. I’m not getting any younger, that's why I wanted to at least get my first tattoo before I turn 27.”

Taken aback by your statement, Suna stayed quiet for a few seconds. Finished with your extra lending hands with his set up, you threw the pair of gloves into the yellow trash bag and finally faced the 6 '1 guy. Suna’s lips were pursed before he licked the lower part, tasting the cold metal of his lip piercing.

“Where do you want to get your first tatts?” he questioned as his gaze started lingering on your bare skin.

“I don’t know, do you have a preferred part?” you threw back, not having a single clue on where you wanted to get your first one.

Removing himself from the chair, he took a step forward, slowly making his way towards you. You weren’t sure why but your feet felt like it was glued on the ground. The vision started to get blurry, almost feeling dizzy but you found your vision focusing more on Suna, who’s already in front of you with a small curve of smile written on his face.

“If you ask me where,” he lifted his hand, letting his delicate fingers glide from your shoulder up to your collarbone that sent shivers to your spine. “I prefer it to be somewhere where others can’t see it. Somewhere where I’m the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for me.” he smirked and pulled himself away from you. “Kidding. Your body, your rules.”

His touch left your skin yet you could still feel his cold fingertips against yours. You felt your breathing stopped as you held it the whole moment he was in front of you and whispered those words to you. Damn you, Suna. He surely knew how to shake your whole existence in a few words.

“I’ll be going away for three days. I’ll go to Tokyo to attend a tattoo convention.” he spoke, not letting his gaze wander to anywhere except you. “If you happen to finally be decisive about the placement before I get back, I’ll do your tatts. In exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.”

You grinned, finally hitting the jackpot. Bingo.

“Deal. I’ll see you in three days.”

Suna let out a small chuckle when he saw how happy your eyes were. Silly, he thought. Who knew that a single tattoo could mean the world to a 25-year-old adult like you?

“Oh before I forget,” he suddenly remembered, turning to you once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll update for the next three days.”

“Holy shit, Rintaro finally agreed to do yer tatts?!” Atsumu exclaimed, almost flipping the table.

“Shut your mouth, you’re spitting the best burger in Hyogo all over the place!” His twin brother, Osamu snarked at him.

Despite graduating from college and living your lives separately, one becoming a professional volleyball player for Japan, the other opening his own onigiri business, and you having your own clothing line, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the Miya twins literally have a special place in your heart. So here you are, sitting across them in a fast food chain with burgers and fries stuffed in your mouth as you continued catching up with each other’s lives after a few months of not seeing each other.

The twins know how much you wanted to get your first tattoo from Rintaro. Giving all their best shots and trying everything within their might, they still cannot lure their old mate into the trap. They were always shut down by Suna, especially Atsumu since he’s the one who’s been doing all of the talking and bargaining because apparently, he’s got a big mouth according to their fox-eyed friend.

They even went as far as recruiting the innocent Sakusa Kiyoomi, also one of their tattoo artist friends who recently opened his shop to blackmail Suna into inking your body; however, the latter just scoffed at their failed idea and told them to try harder again next time. With that, Atsumu shouldered Sakusa’s business permit expenses as a “payment” for pestering him.

“I mean, I’m also surprised, ‘yah know? It took me years to persuade him and now I just have to decide for the placement. But I would love to get it in red ink, though.” you shared your thoughts as you sipped from your diet cola.

“Did you already have a placement in your mind? Maybe your shoulders?” Osamu pointed at your exposed skin from wearing a tank top.

You just shrugged because honestly, you haven’t given it much thought yet. “I have an idea. But Rin told me that he prefers to do it somewhere exclusive only for him.”

Atsumu bursted out, laughing his whole ass off that earned a few stares from the people around you. You and Osamu were puzzled, giving him a tyrannical look.

“Fucking hell, man. I am so proud,” he said between his laughs. “Rinrin has grown into a man! He’s got balls, Y/N! He finally got the dick, Samu!”

The rest of the night went well as you guys hit karaoke and arcade after dinner just like the old days. If it wasn’t for Atsumu’s official schedule the following day, the three of you plan to invite Suna for a drink because he’s finally returning back tonight from his 3-day tattoo convention in Tokyo.

He kept his word on updating you. The very first thing that you saw when you opened your eyes on his first day in Tokyo was a ‘good morning’ text, followed by a mirror picture of him wearing a featured shirt from your summer collection. You blushed at the fact that he’s wearing your own creation even though he’s very supportive of it since the very start. He looked really good in your design.You told him that he doesn’t need to update you that much but his response was ‘Na uh. I’ll still update you so hurry up and think about where you wanted to get it, Ma’am.’. You knew that it was just a polite term yet, it’s enough to make your knees feel weak. But you were quick enough to shake the thoughts off, thinking that it’s just a friendly term to address his future client.

As the darkness engulfed the sky, the twins dropped you off in front of your apartment and bid them goodbye. It’s already 9 in the evening and you wonder if Suna’s already back in Hyogo because your message was left delivered and you haven’t received a single text from him since this afternoon.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed, flashing Suna’s contact photo on the screen.

Rintaro is calling…

“Yo.” you answered, unlocking the door of your unit.

“Ma’am? Did you just get home?” his raspy voice boomed on the other line of the phone. You never knew how much you longed for his presence, not until you heard his voice again for the first time in 3 days.

“Yup. We went to karaoke and arcade after dinner. We’re supposed to invite you for drinks but Tsumu’s got an official sched tomorrow.” you paused, kicking your shoe on the rack. “How about you? Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. Just got here and the first thing I did was to call you after fully charging my phone. It’s been dead since afternoon because I lost my charger. M’sorry for not messaging you.” you don’t know if you’re just a little bit tired from earlier but you could sense the hidden craving behind his voice.

“It’s okay, Rin. It’s no big deal,” you assured, as it was really not a big deal for you. “So, about the offer.”

You heard him clicking his tongue, followed by a soft chuckle. “Have you thought where you wanted to get your first ones, Ma’am?”

“Mhm. You wanna know where?”

“Surprise me.”

It made you giggle like a highschool kid talking to her crush for the first time. Suna is really good with his words. On the other line, Suna was leaning his head against his black bed frame, unintentionally scratching his bare chest as he’s not used to wearing a top inside his house and saw it. He took a deep breath before biting his lower lip to surpass the fact that he’s thrilled with the thought of him finally marking your skin.

“Where do you want to get it done? It can be in my studio but I can also do home service, exclusive only for you.”

“I want to get it done in the studio. I wanted to experience sitting in your leather chair as a client, Sir.”

Damn. Something ignited inside Suna when he heard you calling Sir, right back when he started calling you Ma’am. It’s like a switch being flipped on. Composing his mind and shaking any thoughts, he nodded as if you’re seeing him right now.

“Alright then. We’ll start tomorrow at nine in the morning. Make sure to get enough sleep, eat breakfast and drink water. I’ll brief you tomorrow once we’re there, Ma’am. Remember that in exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” he reminded, knowing that you don’t like going to bed early.

“Wow, your customer service is top tier.” you commended as your mind started intensifying with the thought of finally doing it tomorrow.

“Exclusive only for you, Ma’am.” he reminded once again, trying to hint you up.

“Okay, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you. Good night, Y/N.”

Fuck. It’s not the first time Suna has said that to you but your insides are rumbling. You felt your blood rushing as your vital organ increased the pumping because anytime now, you could feel suffocated from the excitement. Calm down. Calm down.

“Good night, Rin.”

With that, he let you hang up the call. Later that night, you tried your best to get a good night's sleep yet in your fantasy, you still feel like you’re sleep calling with Suna. You couldn’t take your mind off with his words earlier. He’s going to tell and show you something? Still trying to squeeze every cell of your brain, you cannot pulp any idea on what it’s going to be.

You just hope it’s nothing serious because it’s actually scary, the thought of him being dead serious on something. You shrugged off any negative thoughts and wished that it's nothing because you wouldn’t be able to grasp if it’s going to significantly impact your life in a pessimistic way. You might lose your shit because you know that you’re clearly, madly, deeply attached to Suna Rintaro.

“So this is how it feels like to sit right here.” you spoke with awe as you comfortably aligned yourself with the chair’s depth. It was adjusted perfectly for your height.

Suna grinned, setting up the materials on the stainless table beside you. You offered to help but he quickly declined it, reasoning that you’re here as a client today, not as his self-labeled apprentice.

Despite being here lots of time already, it felt like this was the first time you’ve seen his studio. The details you didn’t notice before suddenly popped in your vision, such as the fern green wallpaper and plants that he’s been watering regularly. On the outside, it looks like Suna’s more of a monochrome guy but in reality, he adores green so much because according to him, it brings the dull color into life. For him, it feels like life.

You also noticed the usual well-lit led ceiling lights wrapped around the four corners of his studio are now dimly-lit as well as the aroma of lavender mint from his scented candles that he ignited for the first time since he got it lingering probably to cover up the smell of blood, dead skin, and ink. Oh, and there’s also an inspired portrait of his favorite characters from his favorite movies drawn in his own artstyle framed and hung on the walls. His usual arctic monkeys and heavy metal playlist was replaced with some 88rising, r&b, and keshi which are you favorite artists and genre at the moment,

You never took your time to appreciate Suna’s studio this much until now.

“Okay Ma’am, show me where you wanted it to be placed.” he asked, almost ordering you. Taking a deep inhale, you were surely nervous as heck right now but you already made your mind. Somewhere where he’s the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for him, huh?

You slowly lifted your white shirt, revealing your red lace bralette that perfectly hugged your breasts. You specifically chose this outfit for this occasion. Swallowing a lump, you pointed at your waist up to the side of your right boob, passing it and nearly up to your armpit. “Here. I wanted to get it here.”

Suna was quiet the whole time yet his widened foxy eyes tell you otherwise. He’s speechless. His eyes were fixated on you, admiring the view which he saw for the first time. He knows that you’re sexy and elegant, but he didn’t expect that you’re this sexy. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful art he’s ever seen in his whole life. He fought the urge to hold you in your waist because he wanted to feel your skin against his.

“Tough spot. Damn Ma’am, you’re courageous.” he commented on your preference. You felt your cheeks heating up as embarrassment started creeping in because Suna hasn’t removed his gaze yet on your body. “Can I…touch it? I’ll just…assess it.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together as Suna’s gloved hand made its way to your body. He traced your torso up to your ribcage and he couldn’t help but to squeeze a small smile in between.

“Will it hurt?” you hesitantly asked.

“It will. But I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you almost choked on his answer because it gave you other ideas. “Now make yourself comfortable. Tell me if it hurts, we’ll take a break. I’ll do my best to make it painless but I cannot guarantee.”

You fixed your position on the inclined chair, making yourself at home on your left side but your torso was slightly flattened down, facing him to get a better access to the area, especially your sides up to your armpit. Suna sat down in the swivel stool and faced you from your left, maintaining his demeanor as he grabbed the stencil he prepared. You intentionally didn’t ask about the design he planned because you also wanted to surprise yourself with Suna's creativity. You wanted to astonish yourself and it pretty much tells how big your trust is when it comes to Suna.

Once he’s done with shaving the excess hair, the paper hits your side, tickling your skin as Suna’s gloved hand starts flattening it against your body. It was followed by the cold sensation of the adhesive washing the paper. His right pinky accidentally brushed against your boob, making you scream internally. In no time, he’s already removing the piece of paper, indicating that the stencil’s already in place.

Suna licked his lower lip and you noticed how he wore his usual snake bites differently today by swapping the horseshoe jewelry into a plain one. He pushed himself forward but still maintained the distance between the two of you. Reaching out for the tattoo gun, you’ve already had an idea how it sounded but when he tested it and made a whirring sound that buzzed on your ears, you found yourself clutching the hem of Suna’s shirt due to the tense building up inside your stomach.

“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, staring down at you. The whole point of view sent you to spiral as you never imagined yourself being under Suna.

“Yeah, sorry. I hope you don’t mind this.” you pointed at your hands curled into his shirt which earned him a few laughs. Suna thought that it was so fucking cute when look so small to him.

“You’re free to hold me wherever.” he smiled, caressing your exposed shoulder as a sign of assurance. “Remember that if it hurts too much, just tap out and we can take a break, Ma’am.”

Bobbing your head, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the sound of the gun reverberated once again. Suna started poking the needle against your skin. The first five minutes were much more uncomfortable rather than painful - almost feeling like a slow rug burn. However, as he moved upwards and started hitting the bones of your side ribs, it started feeling hell that you couldn’t help but small whimpers escaped from your mouth. It stings like crazy.

“Are you okay? We can take a break. Do you want some water?” Suna offered concern as he saw your forehead creased into an agonizing expression.

“N-no, just continue. I’ll eventually get used to it.” you declared, not wanting to raise your white flag.

Suna nodded and started working on it again. You could feel like he’s outlining something in more of a swivel way. You could also feel like there’s a lot of lines and shading going on. The next 30 minutes were spent with the two of you talking about college, reminiscing the memories you shared together as well as with the Miya twins. Another 30 minutes and he’s already wrapping up by taking one last wipe before applying the tattoo jelly on the area.

“I thought that it will be painful as fuck,” you said truthfully. “You wrecked my expectations, Rin.”

“Well, it’s an honor to be complimented by you. I told you, I’ll be gentle.” he winked, removing his gloves on his hands. “Congratulations, Y/N. You’re no longer a tattoo virgin.”

Laughters echoed in the room as he clapped at your achievement. He grabbed the mirror that was lying beside your chair and signaled you to sit up. Obeying him, you lifted yourself as you felt your skin being stretched.

“I hope you like my design, Y/N.” flipping the mirror, you saw your inked skin for the first time.

Your mouth parted, eyes filled with wonderstruck.

There’s a lot of fine lines from the upper part of your side, down to your ribs, and finally your waist. The lines were broken yet some of them were connected with each other. In the middle, there’s multiple flowers drawn in outline, looking like they have bloomed together. You couldn’t elucidate the design in words yet your brain could tell how it looks and your heart could tell how it feels like to be inked distinctively.

You finally understood why they call Suna a genius. Because he’s the only one who has the ability to make you feel like you're abstract and he’s the only one who can understand you.

“Do you like it?” he asked, a little bit nervous as you stayed silent.

“Like?” you questioned. “I fucking love it, Rintarou. I love it so much that it made me speechless… Thank you. Wow…Seriously, thank you.”

You’re not kidding. You’re not exaggerating. You were at a loss for words because only the silence of appreciation could speak for right now on how you feel about the design.

Pleased, a genuine smile carved on Suna’s lips as he watched you beaming with joy on your first body art done by none other than him.

“Now in exchange, I want you to pop my shirt.” he cleared his throat, bringing the mirror down as he signaled you.. Your face was puzzled. Pop…his shirt? “Come here, Y/N. Take off my shirt.”

You were hesitant at first but you gradually moved towards him and lifted his shirt out of his body. You have never seen him shirtless before because as far as you know, it makes him uncomfortable to show some skin to others before that’s why you never saw him wearing sleeveless before. And now he’s asking you to pop his shirt for what reason?

Pulling the fabric above, Suna’s exposed skin was hit with the cool air. You gasped when you saw multiple scars across the chest and lower body. Some of them formed multiple layers above each other, making the skin rise from its base. He doesn’t have any tattoo in his lower body but he has one in his chest, near his heart. And it was…shit. Could it be…?

“You see, Y/N, I never really talked about this before but my dad used to uh, beat me up with a socket wrench when I was a child,” he spoke, voice filled with coldness. “He’s an addict and whenever he doesn’t have the money to support his damn addiction, he’ll find another way to release his stress and that is to beat me up whenever he’s got the fucking chance.”

You felt like all the nerves in your body were paralyzed as your eyes slowly widened, sinking his words inside your head. He’s dad is what? Beating him? With a socket wrench? Fuck.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to reach college, ya know? That’s why when I was given the privilege to still continue my education, I didn’t let it go to waste as I thought that it was the only way to escape from the madness of my life.” his fingers brushed against his scars. It was healed, probably years ago yet you could visibly see the paint being painted on his face as he felt the trace of his yesterday.

“And suddenly, all of this turned all the way around when I became friends with the twins and you.” he lifted his gaze, maintaining his eye contact with you. Something ignited inside Suna when he met your orbs. He felt like colors bursted in his eyes. “When my dad finally got the help he needed and I made peace with whatever demons I have, that’s when I felt like I had another chance with life. That’s why when I started taking interest in inking, I took it very seriously because for the first time, I saw that I finally saw that I got the chance to stand in life. To live, not just to survive.”

The sincere confession made a short pang inside your heart. All this time, he was hurting. All the damn time, he’s living his life in hell. And being friends with him, just being by his side, made him realize that he can finally free himself from the uncanny of his life.

“The reason why I keep on rejecting your request is because I am not ready yet. Y/N, I spent my whole career crafting the most unique design I could ever create for you. Just for you. I wanted to make it the best among the rest. Also, as cheesy as it may sound, I wanted to be the man worthy of inking your very first tattoo.”

You felt like your heart’s going feral inside your ribcage. Suna stood up in front of you, bare bodies touching each other. You could feel his minty hot breath tickling your nose despite the coldness of the room. Slowly, he grabbed both of your hands and intertwined your fingers together before bringing it in front of you to plant a soft kiss on it.

“I’m sorry that it took me this much time to be worthy of everything. Thank you for not giving up on me. You may notice the lines in your tattoos, it represents the thought of despite being broken, you could still find your way back and bloom within it. Y/N, you gave me that reason to bloom again at my own pace.”

He dragged your hands in his chest, making you feel the only tattoo he has on his upper body. “Y/N, this is your initials. This was my very first tattoo and I intentionally got it in my heart so that whenever I hold my heart, I’ll always remember that you’re here.”

Suna’s eyes glimmered, mirroring yours as you could feel him getting more emotional any second. Giving up, you stood on your toes, enclosing the centimeters given between the two of you by latching your lips to his. Without giving it a second thought, Suna pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It was a hot, wet kiss that the two of you shared as tears started tearing down in your cheeks. When Suna tasted the salty liquid, he finally let his guard down and cried himself between the sloppy kiss.

Pulling away, both of you were panting as your cheeks were stained with the liquid that you shared. You let out a chuckle and pulled him into a tight hug which he gladly returned.

“You’re never late, Suna. You will always be the tattoo artist that captivated my heart, no matter what and no matter how long it takes. I’ll always wait for your creations, and I’ll kiss every one of your flaws until you realize you’re love.”

bonus

y/n's "exclusive" tattoo made it to suna's instagram :]

812 notes · View notes

yeonzzzn · 10 months ago

Text

✨all my little stars: park jongseong

epilogue for no limits duology | the limits series

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 3.2k

synopsis: jay’s world spins faster after finding out of your pregnancy and making the preparations for the life you both created with a mixture of the normal chaos and the unexpected.

genre: established relationship, blonde!jay, uncle!jay, fluffy, suggestive.

warnings: swearing, the boys being down bad (as usual), mentions of sex, pregnancy mentions, that’s probably it ♡

★ this is an epilogue of the spin-off to the main series, please read off limits / parts 1-2 to this spin-off before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ★

•·.·no limits spotify playlist'·.·•

“C-can you repeat that?” Jay’s throat went dry and his hands were shaking and his knees weak.

The doctor smiles at him, “I said, congrats Dad, you’re having twins.”

Twins? Jay couldn’t believe it. If it weren’t for the handrails he held a grip on the bed you laid in, he would have completely fallen to the floor at the news.

The surprising thing is, you weren’t even shocked. You saw it coming with how big your baby bump was. Mostly with Jay’s sister also being pregnant, her bump was of normal size. At first, you thought maybe your baby was growing a lot bigger than you’d thought, but as the days went on…it became obvious you were carrying more than one life.

Jay on the other hand looked like he was fixing to have a heart attack. You were genuinely worried for your fiancé until he looked over at you and his lips curled into a smile.

“Twins,” he chuckles and smiles wider, “Baby, we’re having twins,” Jay took your hands in his, placing kisses on their tops then placing a kiss on your forehead, resting his head against yours and rubbing the pads of his thumbs in your palms, “I couldn’t be happier.”

But oh man did the boys not let Jay live this down.

Jay’s sister took you and her out for some much-needed girl time for dinner and shopping, while Jay stayed behind at the apartment.

“BROTHER NO FUCKING WAY!! TWINS?!?” Heeseung laughed, slapping the back of his friend, “We get rid of Jake and __ just for them to be replaced.”

Jay dropped his head into his palms, “I’m so happy over it that I'm exhausted. But it was also such a shock.”

Heeseung was now running his hand up and down his back, “All jokes aside, I am happy for you man, this is great news.”

Jake nodded, standing from the solo recliner and ruffling Jay’s hair, “Just think our little Hwa will have not just two, but THREE family members to grow up with.”

Jay chuckled and sat back on the couch, his smile going from ear to ear. He was genuinely so happy. Twins?? He still couldn’t believe it. And the timing of his sister and you being pregnant at the same time was even more perfect. His children will get to grow up with hers, and neither of the four would be alone.

Jay let out a yawn, “Jesus. Jake, is this how you felt about the first check-up you and my sister went to for Hwa?”

Jake let out a soft groan and also leaned back, “Yes. I was shaking so badly and my ears were ringing. But it’s such a happy feeling at the same time.”

Jay nodded, taking a good long look at his best friend/brother-in-law, his eyes widening as he stood quickly to his feet, causing every male to stare up at up.

“You good?” Sunghoon asked, “Did having twins get to ya or something?”

Jay shakes his head, “No. I just realized I need to move YN in, like now.”

It was the one thing both you and Jay kept putting off. Specifically because of your parents, or well, father. If your father didn’t like Jay when they first met, he sure as hell didn’t like him now. From what you have told Jay, he already isn’t happy about the engagement or the pregnancy or moving out. But it is what it is. Jay didn’t care, he had you and that’s all that mattered to him.

Sunghoon whistles, “Guess this place will be crowded until Jake and __ officially move out.”

Jake smirked, “And guess who all is going to help move YN in and us out because the two females are pregnant?”

Jay also smirked and glanced down at Heeseung and Sunghoon.

The two males looked at each other, communicating silently.

“Nah,” Jake said, his Aussie accent coming out thick, “You two aren’t getting out of this!”

And they didn’t. You and __ sat on the couch with smiles on both your faces as you watched your men do all the work. Even Hwa was clapping and cheering the men on. It was adorable.

Before you knew it, you broke the lease for your apartment, had everything cleaned out, and officially moved in with Jay. It was meant to be this way, and long overdue.

The first night with Jake, __, and Hwa gone was too quiet. Jay rolled over onto his back and exhaled out.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” you asked, not moving from the position you were lying in but shifting just enough to look at his face.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, tilting his face towards you. You shake your head, waiting for his response to your question, “It’s just…quiet.”

You smile at him, reaching your hand over and running your fingers through his blonde hair, “You’ll just have to get used to it, it’ll be okay.”

Jay closed his eyes as you continued to run your fingers in his hair, and sighed at the loss of your touch and seeing you roll back over. Jay moved to his side and pressed his chest to your back, hand slipping under your night shirt and rubbing at your pregnant tummy, his lips making home against your neck.

“We can always make some noise of our own,” he whispers against your neck, now sliding his hand down to the waistband of your shorts, “You’re so sexy pregnant.”

You chuckle at the feeling of his cock twitching against your back, leaning into him and tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, “Do you want to make some noise?”

He laughs against your skin, slowly pulling down your shorts and panties, “Always.”

—

Time seemed to have flown by too quickly. Every day it's getting harder and harder to do normal daily activities and the males of the apartment forcing you to basically be a couch potato. When Jay wasn’t home to help take care of you, Heeseung or Sunghoon was always around to help out in any way they could. You always felt terrible, but they didn’t mind. They did this for __ when she was pregnant with Hwa.

But at the same time, you couldn’t complain. It gave you time to plan your and Jay’s wedding. The best thing is that you didn’t have to worry about catering for food or flowers since you and Jay both own a restaurant and flower shop. Saves a lot of money.

Months passed and __ finally was rushed to the hospital to birth to her and Jake’s second child. And to Jake’s lucky stars, they had a baby boy: Ha-Yoon Sim.

Jay slapped the back of his best friend’s back, “You got so lucky having a boy.”

Jake gripped the bed rails of his wife's bed, sweat rolling down his face as he stared at her with their baby boy, “You’re telling me.”

You stood on the other side of her bed, running your finger on his cheek, a small yawn escaping his lips, “Gosh, he’s a spitting image of Jake,” you giggled to her.

She lifts Ha-Yoon up, rubbing her cheek against his forehead, “Both of my kids look way too much like their father.”

Jake tilts his head, “You say that like it’s a bad thing?”

Jay takes a good look at his nephew and laughs, “Still has the Park nose too.”

Sunghoon shakes his head with a wide smile, “I don’t think either of you will ever get away from the Park's nose.”

“Ma,” Hwa softly said, clinging her hands to Heeseung’s shirt as he held her in his arms. Her eyes carefully watched her mother and baby brother.

“Wanna see your new brother?” Heeseung asked, brushing his nose against her cheek and making her giggle.

“Hee,” she giggles more, now brushing her nose against his cheek.

“Bring her over,” Jake reached his arms out for his daughter, Heeseung transferring her over. Jake leans Hwa over the rail, her eyes staring down at her brother, “This is Ha-Yoon,” Jake kisses her cheek, “This is your little brother.” Hwa’s lips tried to speak the word brother, she looked over at Jake with a confused look, “Brother,” He said again with a smile.

“Frother,” she tried, and Jake just nodded and smiled more.

Jay was now at your side, shifting you over a bit to lean over and hug his sister, “Our little family keeps on growing. I’m proud of you, stinks.”

With a free arm, she hugged him back, tears swelling her eyes, “I know. I love you so much, big brother.”

Jay kissed his sister's forehead and ruffled her hair, “I’m going to teach Ha-Yoon how to play the guitar and to cook, be prepared for that.”

She rolled her eyes but kept her smile, “Of course you will.”

Watching your family smile and laugh had you placing your hands on your tummy, being excited to meet your twins and grow this family even more.

Jake glanced up at you, seeing how you trace and look at your pregnant belly and he couldn’t help but smile even more, “You’ll be due in two months, ya?”

You look up at him and nod, “That or sooner.” Jay was now wrapping his arm around your waist and placing a hand in the middle of your belly and kissing your temple.

Jake shifted his eyes to Jay and then back to you, “I can’t wait to meet my nieces.”

Jay whipped his head to his best friend, tilting it to the side and glaring at him, “You want me to fold, don’t you?”

His sister scoffs, “You’re so girl dad, big brother.”

Jay looked between his sister and Jake, “You both are manifesting girls aren’t you?!”

Heeseung pulled up a chair and leaned his elbows onto the bed, “Jay, just accept you’re having twin girls.”

Sunghoon added, “Both Jake and yourself have shitty luck, you’re going to have girls.”

“There’s still time!” Jay said with a sigh, leaning his head against yours. Jay wouldn’t mind girls, he’ll love his children regardless of gender. He just knew it would be over for him. If he thought it was bad when Hwa was born…it would be worse when you give birth.

And finally, that fateful day arrived.

Jay held your hand, squeezing it tightly as you pushed. Sweat rolled down the sides of your face, holding your breath with each push.

“That’s it, keep pushing, YN,” Jay said, wiping the sweat off your face, “Keep taking deep breaths, my love. You’re so strong.”

You flung your head back onto the pillow, gritting your teeth and using every ounce of strength you had to push out the bundles of life.

“Good, good,” the doctor said, “Baby number one is almost there.”

Jay rested his head on yours, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on your hand as you squeezed back tighter. You didn’t take another breath until crying filled the hospital room.

“One baby out, keep up the pace, YN,” the doctor said, her smile wide as she looked up to you and Jay, “One baby to go.”

Jay pressed a kiss to your brow, “Almost there my rose petal, keep fighting.”

You took a few deep breaths and nodded, pushing with all your might, a pained groan leaving your lips as your second baby finally made its way into the outside world.

“Congratulations parents, you did it!” the doctor said, taking your second child to be bathed and cleaned up.

Jay chuckled, his smile big, forehead still resting against yours, “It was all her, I’m just here for support.”

“Your support still did something,” one of the nurses said, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Want to come meet your daughters?”

Daughters. Everyone was right. He was done for.

Jay swallowed and nervously nodded, “Yes, please.”

The nurse smiled and led him over to the table where his daughters lay side by side, their sobs stopping the minute Jay reached the table, their brown eyes staring back at him.

His whole body shook, hands trembling and knees weak. He gripped the table, trying to steady himself from falling over. His girls…these are his girls. Two lives he helped create. Two lives that are now his entire world and more. His knees buckled, the nurse taking to his left and helping him regain his balance.

“Everything okay?” you asked out of breath, concern filling you as you watched your boyfriend nearly fall over.

Jay nodded, tears swelling his eyes as he gently traced his fingers down his twin's faces, “They are so perfect.”

“Want to hold them?” the nurse asked, “I can help.”

Jay nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girls.

He picked one up, reaching his other arm out to take the second from the nurse, holding them closely to his chest and walking over to you, “Baby,” he sniffled but held his smile, “They are so beautiful.”

You sat up the best you could, reaching your hands out, “Gimme, please.”

Jay placed one of your daughters in your arms, “This is Aera,” he smiled, then held up your second daughter to his face, kissing her forehead, “And this is Hana,” then placed her in your other arm.

“Aera and Hana Park,” you smile, tears swelling your eyes and slowly falling, “They are perfect.” The minute Jay held his daughters' gaze he knew their names for them were perfect.

He watched as you cuddled Aera and Hana to your chest, placing kisses on their small faces.

And that was all it took for him to crumble. Tears streamed down his face as his imaginable barrier of protection was placed over the three of you. Jay leaned over the bed, wrapping the three of you in his arms, and cried into your hair, “My girls,” he took a shaky breath, and placed a kiss on your temple, “My sweet girls, I love you all so fucking much,” He leaned back but kept his arms tight around you three and connected his lips to yours, breathing you in to stabilize him, “My rose petal and little stars.”

There was a knock on the hospital room door, and a nurse opening it, “Are you the family?” she asked. Jay perked up, thinking his parents, sister, niece and nephew, and best friends arrived, only for his smile to fade at hearing a voice he didn’t want to.

“Yes,” the man said, “I am the father of the one who gave birth.”

The one who gave birth huh? Can’t even call her your daughter.

The nurse let your father and mother in the room, Jay quickly stood upright and walked to the edge of the bed, his protective nature coming out.

Your father stopped a good distance away from Jay, your mother standing right behind him.

Jay gritted his teeth, “If you’re here to play some kind of sick fucking game, get the fuck out!”

You didn’t even stop him for his outburst. It was well deserved. Mostly after the fit your father threw once you broke the lease to your old apartment and the way he got upset over finding out you was pregnant. You held your daughters closer.

Your father sighed and looked to the floor, “I didn’t come to start any fights.”

Jay clenched his fists, “Then why are you here?”

He glanced up at Jay and took a few steps forward, placing his hands on his shoulders. It took everything in Jay to not push him off.

“I want to be in my grandchildren’s lives, after thinking long and hard, I knew if I continued down this path I would have not only lost my daughter, but my grandchildren.”

Jay looked back at you, your eyes wide as you stared at your father, waiting for you to respond. But you never did.

He looked at your father, “I think she needs time,” and your father nodded.

“Anything she needs, I will do,” he squeezed Jay’s shoulders and then gave them a slight tap, “Welcome to the family, son.”

Your parents walked to the door, giving you one last look then walked out.

You didn’t realize how long you held your breath until Jay was back at your side and pushing your hair from your face, “YN, breathe.”

You looked up at him, “Why did it take birthing my children for him to decide to change?”

Jay continued running his hands through your hair, “Sometimes it takes something great coming into the world to change everything,” he looked down at his daughters, “The minute I looked at our girls, everything changed for me. My life has a greater purpose. I’m sure he felt the same.”

You just nodded looking down at your girls. You weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive your father, but the fact he showed up was a start.

Another knock happened on the door, the nurse giving you and Jay a concerned look as she went to the door, barely sliding it open and peeking out, “Are you family?”

“Hell yeah, we are! I’m ready to meet my nieces!”

Jay exhausted out a sigh at the word choice his sister decided to make.

The nurse stepped to the side, his sister rushing in with Jake carrying Hwa in one arm, and Ha-Yoon in his car seat carrier in Jake’s other hand. Heeseung and Sunghoon trail in after along with Jay’s parents.

“No one even told you guys I had girls,” Jay teased, reaching out to hug his sister.

“No one had to,” she teased back, squeezing him tightly, “We already knew.”

She practically shoved Jay out of the way to run to your bedside, “YNNIE!!” she cheered, leaning at your side to get a look at your girls, “Oh my god they look exactly like my brother!! They have the Park noses too!!”

Hwa stretched her arms out, “Jay!” her sweet voice coos, Jay taking his niece in his arms and then reaching out to hug Jake.

“Can’t get away from the Park nose,” Jake said with a smile, hugging Jay tightly, “Congratulations, brother.”

“Thanks, man, it means so much.”

Heeseung and Sunghoon were next to hug Jay, then his parents, each of them smiling wide and giving their congratulations.

“Babies!” Hwa said, pointing at you and her cousins.

“That’s right!” Jay said with excitement, “You want to meet your cousins?”

She smiled and nodded, “Cousins!”

You smiled at little Hwa when Jay sat her on the bed at your side, holding her shoulders, “Hi Hwa,” you said softly, “This is Aera and Hana.”

Hwa smiles and lifts to her knees, little hands placed against yours that hold the girls, “Family!”

“That’s right, sweet girl,” her mother sniffled, “We are a big family.”

Everyone crowded around your bedside, each taking turns holding both of your girls.

You looked between each of them, tears falling down your face. Family. This is your family.

Jay pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Nothing can get better than this.”

You nodded, pulling him into a tight hug. Nothing could beat this.

‧₊˚✧THE END✧˚₊‧

— perm tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle

@jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia

@wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove

@fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun

@cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs

@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee

@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee

#jay bae #jay park #park jay #park jongseong #jongseong park #jay x reader #reader x jay #reader x park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #yeonzzzn writing #no limits duology

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polarisjisung · 1 year ago

Text

BITTERSWEET

synopsis: it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

wc: 2.7k

pairings: jaemin × fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, uses of petnames, reader ogles at jaemin for a little while, jaemin gives mixed signals but also not really?

notes: I was supposed to post this last week but the formatting was so off anyways happy renjun day, here's a jaemin fic?

part two

even when he was battered, bruised and most probably broken, na jaemin stared up at you with those shiny eyes, almost iridescent under the moonlight.

you havent seen him in weeks.

you'd like to kick and scream and shout at him for ghosting you all this time, the possibilities of everything that could've happened to him, worrying you endlessly up until now.

you hate him for just showing up like this, out of the blue, you think, but his composure suggests that this isn't as big of a deal as you make it out to be—whether it was weeks or maybe even months later, na jaemin would always circle back to you

like always, there he is stood at your doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night, dripping blood all over the welcome mat that lays on your front porch, his usual carefree self

you know you'll be getting a long scolding from your mother about the kind of company you surround yourself with the next morning, before being forced to rub the stains out of said mat, but in this moment, you couldn't seem to care less

perhaps it's because you swear you've never seen anything prettier, even with cuts littered across his skin, and a swollen eye that would certainly discolour the next morning, he looks ethereal.

for a moment, your jaw hangs low and jaemin holds back a chuckle at the sight, though you wish he hadn't, before you slip to the side and let him in, shutting out the cold as he flings the door to a close behind him, finally turning to face you

there's an unfamiliar sweetness to his scent tonight, his clothes oozing with the smell of cologne and what any sane person could recognise as perfume— women's perfume.

suddenly you find it difficult to keep looking at his stupidly pretty face, almost feeling sick

jaemin however, had always basked in the warm feeling of admiration that came with your look, though it mostly fell straight through his heart and inflated his sky high ego instead, jaemin wonders how despite his cocky nature you seemed to welcome him all the same

admittedly tonight your eyes hold a deeper gloominess to them, bloodshot, because you're tired, he tries to convince himself, but he knows a lot of that redness comes from the purple painted splodges against his skin, the bruises that burn deep inside his being— a burning that seems negligible at the sight of you

"cute slippers" he whispers, the sight of your fluffy pink hello kitty slippers causing the heat to rush to your cheeks

the embarrassment fades just as quickly as it seemed to have taken over your entirety— jaemin had seen a lot worse of you "almost as cute as you" he adds

you brush over the topic like it means nothing, frankly it doesn't, like most things with jaemin

"judging by the state of you" you sigh, two hands on your hips as you look him up and down disappointedly, "you didn't win this fight" and jaemin reels back, far too animated for you to assume he's actually in any pain considering the offended expression he wears, but you know him far too well to fall for his, admittedly convincing, acts

"I won, actually" he says weaving his arms through the gaps between yours to pull you closer, letting then hang at your waist

"sure you did" you nod sarcastically but he only rolls his eyes, following you into the kitchen

he knows what it means when you hold out two mugs, specifically the ones you had hand painted on your trip to the park when you were 5, adorned with the same floral pattern in different colours, and a cheesy quote continued across the two cups— his eyes light up

"hot chocolate?"

and jaemin hates hot chocolate, until its made by you, the sweet, almost childish drink something he could only savour in the dim lighting of your living room

maybe it was because of that specific brand of crazy expensive hot chocolate you used, that tasted a little dark and sometimes too strong for your liking, or maybe, most probably it was the taste of nostalgia that would linger on his lips each and every time

all jaemin knows is he would find himself laughing at the moustache of marshmallow fluff that would undoubtedly form over your upper lip as you carefully dabbed against his wounds with the antiseptic you kept on hand, one reserved solely for him since he was allergic to the regular stuff

he nods, attempting to grin before pulling his lip between his teeth at the sharp pain that strikes across it—hissing.

you laugh, despite the dull ache that takes over your chest seeing him like this

flicking your head over to the sofa is all you can do, worried your voice would give way if you gave the instructions verbatim but jaemin seems to get the memo.

as he takes a seat on your mother's favourite buttoned yellow velvet loveseat— you choose not to read to far into his choice of sofa

you're fishing through the drawers of your freezer to find some ice to help his wounds but all you can find is a bag of dino nuggets and a bag of peas— you decide the dino nuggets have a larger surface area and would probably be a little more help as you emerge through the kitchen door, hoping you made the right choice

jaemin finds the faint look of contemplation on your face far too adorable to hide the smile that reaches his now coloured cheeks, one darker than the other owing to the bruise that blossoms over it

"here" you offer it out to him wrapped in a towel, having learnt from your mistakes the last time you'd accidentally given him freezer burn

"gonna make me do it all by myself doll?" you shoot a questioning look his way "I'm all ache-y"

contrast to his tough demeanor, jaemin looks up at you with a pout and a look of feigned innocence

"yeah? well you should've thought about that before landing yourself in this situation"

you're ready to turn a full 180 on your heels and walk away, until jaemin's fingers wrap around your wrist, bruised knuckles begging for some sympathy

"please?"

ultimately you give in. you knew you would the second he looked at you with those shiny big eyes. you didn't know how to say no, not to him

"fine."

"that's my girl" he beams up at you, you know better than to let his words replay in your mind, his girl, why did that sound so damn good?

as your press the towel to his cheek, the cool feeling against his burning hot skin makes him wince, though you're not sure who's in more pain considering the way you your heart threatens to leap out of your chest

"how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful huh jaemin" you sigh, rubbing circles against his warm skin in an attempt to comfort him, angry eyes latched onto the rough blood stained patches

"don't call me that" his voice drops an octave somehow louder than before despite coming in whispers

"what else shall I call you? is that not your name jaemin?"

his eyes almost flash over completely black as he huffs, "not to you it isn't" and you notice the slither of seriousness that remains unmasked beneath his playful tone— you wonder why jaemin makes no effort to hide the solemnity of his words

but that's who he had always been, hot and cold, difficult to read, even more so to understand, he was confusing at best and so like most things with jaemin, you'd decided putting much thought to it wasn't your best idea, you would only be breaking your own heart.

"oh I didn't know it was different for me" you place a band aid against his wound, reaching to treat the next, your tongue poking out from between your lips causing jaemin to suddenly smile, eyes unwavering from the soft pink skin of your lip

between nights spent in his lousy apartment, cooped up in the illusive comfort of his arms and days spent with tear stained cheeks at the thought of being some disposable little thing in his life, you can't help but find yourself unsure of your place in his life

the acidity rising in your throat should be enough of a reality check for you to know the answer to your question, but self awareness had never been your strong suit.

at times he made you feel like the only girl in the world, most times he made no effort to acknowledge your existence, because jaemin was a man of two extremes

when he cared, or at least seemed to, he did so with his whole heart, and when he didn't— well you couldn't have felt any more worthless

right now his speech is sweet, like his voice is honey and his words are sugar-coated, you're intoxicated by the way his deep cologne overwhelms your senses, making your best attempt to filter out the cheap feminine scent that seems to have blended itself into his

"you know it is doll, everything is different with you" his voice reduces further into deeper whispers, words that hit your mind and soul all at once, heartbeat sounding somewhere in the background as the words echo in your mind

you shake your head.

jaemin had always been adventurous with his words, he was bold to say the least, meaning you knew to take his words with a pinch of salt, or two— however many were necessary really.

honestly speaking, you know you'd believe anything that came out of his mouth— na jaemin could wake up one day and decide the sky was pink and the earth was flat and you'd take it as bible.

you suppose it's just integrated into your genetic coding or something, to be at his beck and call, to let the walls you build around yourself fall down every time, you would protect yourself from the whole world, but the harsh truth was, you couldn't protect yourself from him ,though you didn't mind all that much.

drunk on what little love he gave you, you find a sudden dizziness overwhelm you— the good kind that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside even if just for a moment.

"one of these days I'll leave you at the door to rot" your eyes roll at his words in an attempt to return to the playful mood, and jaemin knows you would never, but the brief mention of the possibility still makes him gulp, sound resonating in his ears

"never" he whispers, suddenly his eyes are glossy and his grip on the warm mug begins to loosen, the thought of losing you never having been one to cross his mind until now, you however, seem as unbothered as before

similar to most things in life, jaemin took you for granted.

but that was the thing, you were unlike anyone, anything, any part of his life— you were special.

jaemin knew you meant a lot to him, it wasn't a secret he tried to hide, not that he was particularly good at expressing it either, but the way your hair falls over your face as you concentrate on patching up his injuries and your skin glows under the dim light has jaemin wondering just how much you mean to him.

jaemin decides you mean the most to him, more than anyone else.

as a man of habit, he wonders what that would mean for these habits of his that you hated oh so much. very little, most probably. he had you amongst a thousand other wrapped around his finger, cast under his spell, deeply infatuated with him but somehow playing with you felt the most special.

that was the problem, you were special to him and as much as he enjoyed playing with fire, jaemin had never thought he'd find himself getting burnt.

you don't realise the silence that befalls the room, nothing but the soft buzz of the fridge or the flicker of the soon to fuse kitchen light mixed with your soft breaths— he had noticed they grew louder as you became more exhausted, guilt beginning to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach, knowing he was keeping you awake

he was always a little selfish when it came to you, he knew that

your eyes land on jaemin, his flooding with something you can only hope is a feeling of warmth— anything but his usual sudden switch up before he'd announce he was leaving, only for you to see him the next time he got himself like this, a couple nights into the next week most probably, a routine you can't say you had appreciated, nor condoned

most things with jaemin were like this, short lived, and bittersweet, although the bitter part seemed more overpowering at times

you can't help but hold onto the little slither of hope that tonight will be different

"hey doll" his free hand cups your cheek, forcing your noticeably distant eyes into his—but instead of the icy cold stare you expect, you're met with fire, his eyes burning with promise

"hmm?" your eyes lock, "what's up?"

"never stop nagging at me, please" he sucks in a harsh breath, hoping you'll say something to stop him from completely losing control of his words and spilling every thought he's ever held back when it came to you, a lot really

but you only take a sip of the warm drink in your mug, the tones of dark cocoa and the traces of coffee so distinct.

the white foam spreading across your lip as you now decide to tend to the gash beneath his eyebrow, though jaemin sees it as an excuse to take ahold of your face between his fingers, thumb tracing over your upper lip

"cute" your wide eyes make him chuckle, noticing a small speck of white still resting on your lip

"would you look at that, I missed a spot" you find yourself being pulled further into his lap, legs messily sprawled across the couch along with his, you don't mind however, his pink glossy lips the only thing on your mind

you'd like to let him ruin you, make you his puppet, blind you with his warmth and make you his and only his. even if you were his little plaything, it didn't matter, nothing mattered as long as you were his.

"and what are you going to do about it nana, hmm?"

you let your nose rest gently against his, soft vanilla scent mixing with the deep musky cologne jaemin wore, you wonder how it manages to last throughout the day considering your perfumes lasted all of 5 minutes, at best

"whatever you'd like doll, just say the word and I'll do it"

"you promise?"

jaemin nods, "I promise" and he holds you tight, because like all things good in life, jaemin knows one day, he'll lose you too

as you pout your lips at his, a knowing smile in his eyes , the first aid box is long forgotten behind you and your lips fall atop each other, like they'd always meant to.

you can't help but wonder how long jaemin will stick to this promise of his, forever you hope, though you know better.

especially when his hot cocoa flavoured kisses, like the true essence of jaemin, were so damn bittersweet.

654 notes · View notes

neouture · 2 years ago

Text

Senses

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Words: 4,146

Genre: Smut (18+), angst if you squint

Includes: Fem!Reader, established relationship. Haechan is jealous and somewhat possesive bc of a silly little hug drunk Renjun gave you. Arguing, silent treatment, make up sex. Smut warnings under the cut !

Author's note: Possesive Haechan lives in my mind rent free. This story might not be for everyone because it includes very specific kinks that not everyone is into, but I had a lot of fun with this. If you like it, please leave a comment/ask. I also now have a ko-fi account, the link it's in my pinned post, in case anyone is interested in leaving a tip ! That's totally up to you tho, my stories are free for everyone. It's just another way to support (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I'm reposting this bc I posted it yesterday but it wasn't showing up in the tags so hopefully they work now!

Smut warnings: I feel like this is the time to reveal I have an impregnation kink so bear with it. Dirty talk, teasing, you're somewhat turned on by Haechan's possesiveness in all honesty. Oral sex (f. receiving), mentions and fantasies of impregnation, impregnation kink, unprotected sex (stay safe ! ), creampie.

If looks could kill, Renjun would've had a fatal ending.

Way more fatal than the fate you are transiting right now, sitting in the passenger seat while Haechan's gaze shoots darts into the road as if it’s a target, surrounded by an overwhelming silence that not even the street sounds and the city’s bustling can ease.

If looks could kill, Renjun would’ve collapsed next to you the second he decided to wrap one of his arms around you in a warm, brotherly hug. One that, seemingly so innocent, was misinterpreted by your boyfriend from afar.

“Haechan,” you sigh, but it’s useless yet again. No matter how many times you’ve said his name on the way back home, it seems as though you're speaking to a wall. A stubborn wall that doesn't listen, in which your words bounce back and are interiorized with shame and embarrassment when you realize that all you’re left with is the palpable tension inside his car.

You can see said tension in the prominent veins of his arms, his clenched jaw and the way he is just staring at the horizon, not daring to look at you. You can feel it every time you call out his name and his body stiffens a little. You can hear it in his heavy heartbeats and rapid breathing. You can smell it on your clothes, impregnated with alcohol and cigarette smoke.

But you can’t taste it. You can’t taste the tension when your mouth is dry, and your throat is aching with words gathered at the lump in your throat, threatening to spill out at any moment in an attempt to know what's going on in his mind.

“Look he didn’t mean it that way,” you murmur, trying to ignore the stinging tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “He just- he just put his arm around me. It wasn’t- it didn’t mean anything”.

“Of course it didn’t,” it’s the only response you get, right when his car takes the street of the complex you two live in.

Whether it's because of the sound of his voice, or the fact that you're really close to knowing your true fate tonight, you feel somewhat relieved.

“He was tipsy,” you continue, resting your head against the cold, glass window.

“You weren’t,” Haechan cuts you short right when he enters the underground parking lot. The car becomes illuminated by a dim, warm light, just enough to catch a better glimpse of your boyfriend, but he still doesn’t look at you. “And you still let him put his hands on you”.

“Come on, Haechan!” you groan, frustrated.

His jealousy always gets the best out of you, but somehow it also manages for the worst of you to show through. It's a complicated situation you always find yourself in, when something like such happens. You don't really like that side of him, the jealous and possessive one, the one that feels entitled to you as a person. But at the same time, you really can't begin to hate it either.

It’s enticing.

“Get out,” he says while unbuckling his seat belt. He does so with a swift movement, only to turn around the car just to open the door for you.

He is upset, and pissed, and really angry, but he can’t get himself to stop being a gentleman to you. What happened tonight it's not your fault, anyways, but he secretly wishes you'd pushed Renjun away.

In a way, Haechan thinks it’s your fault. Even when it isn’t.

But you still follow his orders to a t, getting out of the vehicle while he holds the door for you, closing it right behind you with a loud sound that makes you feel startled for a bit.

You know Haechan would never hurt you, but this side of him it's such a scary contrast to his usual personality. It’s somewhat unsettling, to say the least, but it is never frightening.

“You’re going to give me the silent treatment?”

After a minute or two, the lack of response gives you a one. You follow him defeated through the elevator doors that take you to the lobby complex, and lose all hope in getting him to talk.

Plus, it’s getting late, and you’re tired, so if Haechan doesn’t want to talk now, you’re not going to push him further anymore —it’s probably best to deal with all this tomorrow morning, after a good night of sleep.

You stop trying to get his attention when the doors of the lobby's elevator close, and just opt to stand right beside him in silence —you've said so much already, from the minute he dragged you out of the bar you and your friends were attending to celebrate Jaemin's birthday, to the final moments in his car; if he didn’t say anything then, he is probably not going to say anything now.

So you accept the silent treatment, walking alongside with him to your apartment door. He pulls out his keys, opens it for you and gets inside without even sending a look your way. You close the door behind you and watch as he throws his jacket to the living room couch, standing awkwardly while he figures out exactly what to say.

“Why did you-”.

“I’m tired,” you cut him short, passing by him through the living room and into your bedroom. “I’m going to bed”.

Like him, you pass by without sparing him a glance. Without even acknowledging his presence there, like you’re just announcing another part of your routine to no one in particular.

“You’re not,” it’s when you feel his hand wrapping around your wrist, and stopping you from leaving the scene, that you turn around to face him —you can still see the tension, in his knitted eyebrows and that gaze of regret he holds. “Let’s talk”.

“I wanted to talk,” you murmur, getting yourself out of his grip. “I spent all the ride back home trying to talk, but you weren’t even looking at me”.

“I was just trying to find the right ti-”.

“What even is the right time?” there’s annoyance in your voice, and a part of you wishes your emotions hadn't escalated too quickly. But if there's one thing that pisses you off, is how things are always done the way he wants them, when he wants them. “When you feel like talking?”

“Listen to me-”.

“No, Haechan, you listen to me,” you sigh, leaving your purse on the couch, right next to his jacket. “Renjun just put his arm around me, he wasn’t- it wasn’t even an actual hug. And yeah- he was tipsy, but he just- he wasn’t hitting on me or anything, God!”

The more you speak, the more stressed you become. Now that the words are falling from your lips, and you’re revisiting the facts, you realize how unprovoked Haechan’s anger truly is.

“You say he's one of your best friends, but you can't even trust him,” your hands travel all the way to your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. The despair is making your body feel warm, and you can even feel a thin layer of sweat gathering on your forehead and nape. “You say you love me, but you can’t even trust me”.

“I trust him,” Haechan murmurs, “and I trust you”.

“Then what is your problem?”

“I am the fucking problem,” the black-haired groans, imitating your previous actions by pushing his hair away from his face. It’s not usual for him to raise his voice, let alone sound this frustrated —the unexpected loud tone makes you swallow thickly. “I know it’s not your fault but I can’t help it”.

“It is not my fault,” you repeat in a whisper, trying to give some echo to his own words. “If it’s not my fault, then why are you acting like it is?”

Haechan goes quiet. Not because he wants to give you the silent treatment again, but because he doesn't know what to say.

Is there anything to say, anyway? You're right, and he feels like an asshole.

“Because,” he begins, all worked up because he believes the answer is rather obvious. Isn’t it? He’s acting like this because you’re his. Because no other man has the right to touch you, or even look your way. You’re his, and he doesn’t like to share. “Because you’re only mine”.

The sudden response makes your heart skip a beat or two. Is it wrong to feel something just by seeing him this angry? Is it wrong to feel proud of hearing him say something so possessive like that?

You feel conflicted —you’re enjoying this when you’re not supposed to.

“Yours?” you ask, with an eyebrow slightly cocked.

“Yes, mine,” you're not quite sure when it happened, but your bodies are now facing each other. You can smell the tension in his cologne, along with the remains of cigarette smoke and the alcoholic beverage Renjun threw Haechan’s way at the club.

“You’re so entitled,” you let out a soft scoff, one that does nothing to ease Haechan's sharp gestures. “Yes, you’re my boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean I belong to you”.

It's, perhaps, the frustration talking. You know what he means, but it's your anger the one to make the first move.

However, you're not expecting him to laugh.

You expected him to counter attack, to get even angrier.

You expected him to raise his voice, or be silent at all.

But you weren't expecting to see the corners of his lips rising in a half smile, one as mischievous at the comment you just made.

“What?”

“Do I need to remind you how mouthy you get when I'm fucking you?”

You stare at him for what feels like ages, not daring to blink or break eye contact. He is also staring at you, but far from looking angry or frustrated, he looks amused. It's like the roles have been reversed, and it's you now who doesn't know what to say.

“What- does that have to do with this?”

“You say you don’t belong to me,” Haechan sighs, the tip of his tongue poking just slightly through his cheek. “But you never seemed reluctant about me owning you when we're in our bed”.

You can feel your cheeks getting warmer, and a weird tension in your lower abdomen you’ve grown to be familiar with over the past years. It’s probably not the greatest time to get aroused, but you can’t control yourself when it comes to him.

Just like he can’t control himself when it’s about you.

“That’s- it’s different,” you weakly attack.

“Is it?”

Haechan can tell you're getting nervous. By the way your shoulders are moving at a faster rate, and you seem to be struggling to look at him, he knows he has hit a nail. Perhaps this is a way to make a point —the one he has been wanting to make all night long.

“How so?”

The words get caught up in your throat again, and the fact that you don't have an actual response makes you feel uneasy.

“If it's any different, then that means you're a liar,” he says, guiding one of his hands to your chin whilst lifting it up. You can hear the tension in the nuances of his voice, those who seem mocking and provocative. Those looking to make you lose a game you didn't even know you were playing, “so when are you lying?”.

His hand strokes the sides of your face, and then places a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is enough to make you gulp, but it’s a nice contrast to his harsh and filthy words.

“Are you lying to me when you say you belong to me, and that you’re mine?” Haechan asks, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “Or are you lying to me right now, just to rile me up and get what you want?”.

That wasn't precisely a conscious plan, but now that he says so it seems that all your efforts to get him all worked up were to end up just like this.

“I just- Haechan”.

“What?” he asks you. The hand that was caressing your cheek is now placed at your waist, pulling him closer to his body.

You can feel the tension when his bulge brushes against your abdomen, hard and throbbing, pressing against you. It’s too tempting to stop, too inviting to know what he has to say without using no words.

So you allow him to touch you, to press his body against yours to make you feel how much he needs you. There is really no point in resisting, because you’ve wanted this all night long.

“Pervert,” you whisper, panting when you feel his rough grip on your ass. “I bet you were thinking about this on the way back home”.

“And you weren’t?” Haechan scoffs, quietly. “I could see your thighs squeezing together every time you looked at me”.

Embarrassingly enough, he is not that far from the truth.

“I can’t help it,” you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to be closer to him. “I’m sorry”.

“Save your apologies for later,” his lips are dangerously close to yours, and you squirm between his arms when you feel his breath caressing your chin and jaw. “You’re going to need them for being such a liar”.

And, finally, you can taste the tension —it tastes like alcohol, cherries, and rage. Like mint and something else.

“Fuck,” you whisper in between kisses when you feel his teeth sinking on your lower lip, “Haechan”.

It doesn’t take him long to guide you to the bedroom, managing to walk the small, dark hallway with his hands all over your body and his eyes closed.

“Haechan,” you voice once again when he lays you down in the mattress, his skillful hands looking for the hems of your jeans and underwear to pull them off in one go. Truth be told, you’ve never seen him this desperate; his lips are all over your thighs and legs, kissing them sloppy while he caresses the sides of them. He’s sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh, marking you every now and then in places he knows he’s the only one entitled to see.

Everything is happening too fast, but you don’t want him to slow down —you’re just as desperate as he is.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Haechan groans when he catches a glimpse of your sticky folds, all glistening with your arousal, “shit”.

He doesn’t hesitate before hooking both of his arms under and around your thighs, keeping you still in place while his lips approach your throbbing cunt.

“You think Renjun could get you this wet?” Haechan hums against your thigh, his intimidating gaze looking up at you while you struggle to support your upper body weight with your arms. For an unknown reason, you feel your body melting and going numb at such comments.

“N-no,” you shake your head.

“Do you think your body would react to him like it does with me?” The soft and teasing kisses are killing you; his lips are licking and sucking everywhere but where you want them.

“No, Haechan!” The cries in your voice makes him grind his hips against the mattress, hoping to get even the slightest friction.

He wishes he could keep on teasing you, drive you insane just like you did to him back there at the club. But, truth be told, he can't spend another minute without feeling you, in all the sense of the word.

“Apologize, then,” Haechan says, brushing the tip of his nose against your throbbing clit. That single touch is enough to earn a whimper from you, and it is also enough to make you lose all logic and rationality within you —not that you have any whenever you're underneath him in your bed to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, clenching around thin air every time the word falls from your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry Haechan. I’m sorry”.

“Sorry for what?” the dark-haired asks again, acting oblivious to the situation. “What are you apologizing for?”

Whether it's mercy or pure neediness, his tongue unexpectedly laps at your wetness. He licks your slit and toys with your clit, just enough to provide you with some pleasure but without distracting you from your task.

“For- shit, for letting him touch me,” you sigh, kicking your head back. You’re not quite sure what exactly you’re sorry for, but you’re willing to say anything just to feel him. “For letting him- put his arm around me, fuck”.

Haechan smiles against your pussy. A genuine smile, one that can only indicate he’s feeling proud.

“See how easy it is?” he coos, continuing his ministrations on your clit, “you tell me what I want to hear, and I give you anything you want”.

Despite Haechan’s early accusations of you being a liar, you mean everything you say when you’re in bed. In fact, you're only brutally honest when he's deep inside you. When you've lost all your senses and sanity, and when all you are left with is pure bliss.

“I’m sorry,” you keep on chanting, latching your fingers against his dark locks in an attempt to bring him closer to you.

You know you're seconds away from coming, and he knows this too, so he allows you to manhandle him against you as much as you want. He hisses when you grip his hair particularly harsher, but he doesn’t stop; instead, he licks you ardently, looking forward to your orgasm.

“Show me how sorry you are, then,” he murmurs against you, his nose and chin shining with your own wetness. “Come”.

It’s the sight of him between your legs, along with his crude words and pretty eyes that pushes you to the edge. Your hands clasp the bed sheets beneath you, and your thighs threaten to close around him but he is quick to keep them apart with his hands.

“You’re getting shy now?” he teases you while you overcome your high, writhing underneath his hold. “Keep them open for me pretty, I want to lick you clean”.

Much against your body’s will, Haechan manages to keep you in place while he helps you through your orgasm, causing waves of overstimulation to wreak havoc inside you from your head to the tip of your toes.

“Haechan!,” you gasp when you feel him pulling away from your body, the sudden loss of contact making you feel somewhat relieved after the pinches of pain caused by the overstimulation.

His lips are bright peachy and swollen, all covered in your own orgasm.

“Too much?” Haechan asks, unbuckling his belt while getting rid of his clothes. You imitate him and do the same, discarding your blouse and bra somewhere along the room.

“No,” you shake your head, inviting him between your legs.

He positions himself in the middle, and the sight makes you clench around thin air yet again. His cock is hard and reddened, throbbing almost visibly in front of your eyes.

“You still think you can take me?” he asks yet again, trying to make sure you’re not sore from how aggressive his early ministrations were.

“I’ve been wanting you all night long, Haechan,” you murmur, wrapping your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t care about anything, I just want you to fuck me”.

He kisses your forehead, and then your chin. The tip of his cock is pressing against your clit and, at times, against your entrance, but he is still nowhere near being inside you.

“See,” Haechan whispers with his lips against your jaw. “I know you’ve apologized, but I still need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine”.

His words make you let out a quiet scoff.

“How come, exactly?”

“What if I came inside you?” Even the idea makes you gasp —half a gasp, that ends up sounding more like a moan, “hm?”

For this, he needs to feel you. So he loses no time pushing himself inside you until he bottoms out. You dig your fingernails into his biceps when you feel the tip of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and it’s only then when he continues to tell you, perhaps, his filthiest fantasy.

“What if I got you pregnant?” It’s crazy, the rational part of you acknowledges. But the aroused one, the one that lacks logic, only gets even more turned on at his words. “That way, everyone will know what we do when we’re alone”.

“Shit,” you cry, clenching around his cock.

He smiles when he feels it.

“You’d like that, don’t you?” After a couple of slow, delicate thrusts, he begins to acquire a faster pace when you get used to having him inside you. “You're squeezing my cock so hard”.

“You want to- get me pregnant?”

Even the words falling from your lips make you clench around him yet again, and it takes him a lot of effort not to come just by those gestures alone.

“That way everyone would know you’re mine,” Haechan sighs, pistoning deeper inside you. “Everyone would know that I’m the one who fucks you good, the one you allow to come inside that pretty pussy of yours”.

You whimper at his words, nibbling on your lower lip while trying to contain every lewd sound that threatens to escape your lips.

“I bet you’d- look so pretty like that,” the more aroused he gets, the less he cares about what he says —it seems as though he’s not having any inhibitions, and you love it. “Fuck”.

It's a wild fantasy, but you two seem to share it. You’d be lying if you say that the mere thought of carrying his child is not appealing to you, because it is.

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling him losing all pace and rhythm of his hips. “Why don’t you get me pregnant, then?”

The dirty talk does wonders to him, because the minute you start voicing his thoughts it’s the minute his movements become sloppier, rushed, and faster. He wants to come, he desperately needs it.

But he wants you to come first.

“I will,” he groans through gritted teeth. “If that’s what you want, then I will”.

Your heart feels fuzzy, and the tension on your lower abdomen starts increasing with each thrust. It’s not going to be long before you come around him, for the second time in a row, and as much as you’d like to savor this moment, you’re too desperate to take your time.

“Fuck,” Haechan curses under his breath, feeling his arms going numb —the pleasure is too overwhelming for him to maintain a steady pace, but he makes an effort. “Make me come, baby. Squeeze my cock until I come inside you”.

The dirty talk, combined with his gaze and the future promise of offering you that something only he can give it to you, makes you reach your orgasm again.

“Coming,” you cry quietly, wrapping your legs even tighter around his hips. You arch your back against him, and he hugs you tightly in place while he continues fucking your pussy, just as much as your grip allows him too.

“That’s it,” he praises, leaving wet kisses on your forehead and cheeks while you overcome your high. “Are you going to let me come inside you tonight? Fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes!” it’s all you manage to say in the midst of such a devastating arousal. “Yes, yes, Haechan”.

He buries his face on the crook of your neck, and keeps on fucking your swollen pussy until he achieves his orgasm too.

A hot, sticky feeling is quick to flood your tummy, as well as your inner thighs. He continues fucking you slowly and gently, even after coming, to prevent his arousal to leak out of you.

“Shit,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck so that he plops down on top of your body, “I can feel you”.

He hugs you into his embrace, while still inside you, and attempts to stabilize himself before leaving the bed to provide you with some wet towels and water. Truth be told, he wishes to stay like this forever, with your naked body underneath him, and his leaking cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “I know it’s-”

“Hey,” you cut him short, cooing softly. “We can talk about it tomorrow morning”.

He gets the sense that you're comfortable right now, despite the early fight, so he follows your plea compliantly.

“I’m an asshole,” Haechan jokes.

“Sometimes,” you scoff softly, finding his hazy gaze in the midst of the dim lights. “I’m glad you can acknowledge it”.

“And I’m glad you still keep up with it”.

#nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan smut #kpop smut #donghyuck smut #nct127 smut #nct smut

1K notes · View notes

sharkorok · 2 years ago

Text

all eyes on you (enhypen)

or the moments that make everyone think you’re dating

cw/genre: idol!reader, reader doesnt have specified gender but implied to be a female, fluff, so cute bye, secret relationships, humor, u have delulu fans

requested: naurrr

a/n: ehe thx for 100 followers :) I hope my writing makes u happy because knowing people read my works makes me super duper happy! luv uuuu

•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-at an awards show your outfits were matching, like very obviously matching

-matching bracelets, you had one on your left wrist and he had one on the right, the colors matched each other, same style and aesthetic…

-he gets v nervous but also you were in some dating rumors with another idol so…he wouldn’t be mad if he was next tbh….BUT THEN UR GROUP WAS ASSIGNED NEXT TO HIM??

-dawg was sweating the whole time trying not to admire you and how cute you two looked

-but no every one of those “enhypen mma reaction” or “heeseung reaction focus” showed him very clearly staring at you 😭, twt had a field day with you two

-he can’t help it, you looked so good and how can he keep his eyes off his lovely s/o when they’re all dressed up + matching?? seriously his management was insane for putting him so close to you

-and when all groups were leaving he was seen literally sprinting to be closer to you

-ya dispatch didn’t even need to confirm anything after that awards show

the others r below!

jay

-during a live he got his guitar out and started playing all your favorite songs

-and this was literally a day after you named your favorite songs

-then to make it worse he was like “yeah these are y/n’s favorite songs don’t they have good music taste?” and then he kept talking about you and staff was sweating while watching istg

-the way he talked about you tho,,he either had a massive crush on you or you two were dating

-the ship edits the next day were insane honestly some of your fans need to get into the editing business because you genuinely believed a photo of him holding your waist was taken at inkigayo

-he doesn’t even try to hide how much he likes you istg, he goes out of his way to talk to you at awards shows and always films challenges with you, he gives the shippers so much content

-then another time jay cooked your favorite food in a vlog and specifically said it was your favorite food, name dropping and everything

-literally no one is surprised that you two are confirmed dating after a while.

jake

-accidentally went on live while talking about you

-he fully believed he closed out of the app when he was talking to jay and saying stuff like, “I’m really excited to see her at the performance, I hope we have time to hang out…” and then he hears notifications and sees that he was streaming and he nearly faints

-plays it off like he fully intended for everyone to hear that and continues like he planned on going live

-he’s also trying to hide the way his eyes flickered up to your rapid texts being like, “JAKE WHY ARE WE TRENDING ON TWITTER??”

-jay is behind the camera just trying not to laugh becuz how do you even recover from this one, literally all the comments are talking about you and him

-“y/n…? yeah ahahah I know her uh huh mhm anyways moving on” and his horrible deflecting skills are making it even more obvious

-and when you go on live?? oh u bet the comments are “did you see jake’s recent live?? are u cheating on us y/n?”

-u desperately distract by spoiling your comeback but there’s already 14k Tik toks analyzing every interaction you had with Jake and why you two are cosmically intertwined

sunghoon

-describes you to a T when asked about his ideal type

-he meant to just mention the broad details but he gets excited talking about u ok :(

-“yeah a good heart and around (your exact height), with (the hex code of your eye color) eyes, born on (your birthday), hobbies include (every single one of your hobbies) and also…(literally all the information under your kprofiles page)”

-ur fans catch on and are like “isn’t this literally y/n” and he’s like “omg nooo coincidence”

-it is NOT a coincidence bro he was fully thinking of you and only you during that interview

-anyways you don’t help the situation by describing him too when asked about your ideal type, but ur at least a tad less obvious 😭

-“yea I love guys who ice skate and stuff”

-u two definitely get scolded by management

sunoo

-sometimes he forgets to care about keeping things secret (like that lipton tea thing he did)

-so he’s showing fans his camera roll and he shows selfies you never posted before…in his camera roll…never before seen by anyone but him and you to the camera and is like

-“y/n’s visual is so perfect, right?”

-and yeah duh ur stunning and gorgeous but fans are distracted by your beauty for a second before being like “hm…how did he get those selfies and why r they in his camera roll”

-ur fans r thankful for the content tho so he kinda did everyone a favor

-but it’s a LITTLE suspicious…but neither of you address anything so it just festers a little

-until you two do a tik tok challenge together and he captions it with a heart emoji like oh my god 😭

-you’re not innocent either when you said “sunoo’s visual is so amazing” like both of you get some media training I beg

-everyone loves how obviously whipped you two are for each other tho :,)

jungwon

-accidentally exposes your polaroid in his phone case

-thankfully he has photos of his members and maeum but why were you there??

-he completely ignores it tbh he shows the photos to the camera and is like “these r the polaroids in my phone case. anyways.” n he’s playing it cool but internally he’s PANICKING

-“hopefully they didn’t see the heart I drew on the Polaroid,” he thinks foolishly

-we did.

-so you try to do some damage control on your own live when asked about why he has ur photo in his phone and ur like “oh we’re really close friends!!”

-n honestly that’s a good and healthy response because everyone has the right to their platonic relationships

-but jungwon’s heart he drew on your Polaroid was just a little bit tooooo suspicious…anyways this leads to fans over-analyzing every single interaction to the point you two weren’t allowed to be seen in a ten foot proximity at events for a while

-but at least it reminded jungwon to be more careful lolol

niki

-accidentally rizzes you up on live television

-you’re an mc for smth and you’re interviewing enhypen and you’re like, “oooh, some burning questions, what is your ideal type?”

-and Niki, with no hesitation fully goes, “you lol” and you see ur career flash before your eyes

-ur co mc is nervously laughing and niki realizes like oh wait we’re being broadcasted so he’s like “oh just kidding haha!!!” even though you two are making awkward eye contact while you’re mentally scolding him

-he’s so used to teasing and flirting with you in private so it’s a little hard to shake off in public

-anyways fans notice he’s looking at you a little too lovingly and being a little too genuine when he responded so it’s not long before you see ship edits on Twitter and tik tok

-doesn’t help when you answer the ideal type question with “someone who is playful and funny” thinking it was broad enough but ‘twas not <3

-he doesn’t really care too much but thought it was funny, even if he had to take a media training class again afterwards >:T

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions

3K notes · View notes

deedeeznoofs · 10 months ago

Note

Can we please get some hcs of Sukuna and reader in the fairytale AU 🥹🥹

Absolutely amazing writing I loved every single thing of it!💖💖

Cottage Life

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, Fem!Reader

➺ Word Count: 2.4k

➺ Genre: Fluff

➺ Content: Established Relationship, True Form!Sukuna, Princess!Reader, Swearing, Mentions of Murder

➺ A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you for the kind words and the request, I’d love to do this. I’m so glad that people enjoyed my Sukuna Fairy Tale AU so I’m 100% going to explore the idea more. On another note, this is also my first ever request🥹 I’m giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of people enjoying my writing enough to want to request specific things for me to create so I just want to take the time to say if you have an idea for me to write anything specific please do not hesitate to ask! Thank you all very very much. :)

➺ Synopsis: Small glimpses into your daily life with Sukuna in the deep woods. While not fully necessary to understand these little snippets, reading the beginning of your story with Sukuna would certainly enhance the experience. <3

ꨄ Pre-Relationship: Secret Meetings ꨄ

➼ When you first began meeting with him regularly he was pretty mean to you and ignored you most of the time when you tried to talk to him. Despite this, he always kept you by his side anyways and didn’t deter you from meeting him.

➼ One time you straight up asked him why and he said it was because you brought food to him. While you accepted that answer, you knew inside that wasn’t really the case because he would still keep you around even after you both ate.

➼ After warming up to you one of the things that you two bonded over was the nature in the forest. Sukuna would explain the wildlife to you since you were unfamiliar for a long time and he was to your surprise, a really good teacher.

➼ He was able to answer any questions you had and went over every detail that he knew about the woods and was able to keep things interesting.

➼ When you both spent that night under the stars he was serious when he tried flirting with you but quickly realized what he did so he tried to play it off as a joke (he couldn’t be caught being too soft, after all).

➼ Since he’s so much stronger and bigger than you (and literally everyone lol) he makes sure to be extra cautious and gentle around you because despite what he seems like, he doesn’t want to genuinely scare people, especially you.

➼ Speaking of, he has no idea why you aren’t scared of him and doesn’t understand why you act like the way he looks is no big deal. He doesn’t complain though and never mentions it to you.

➼ One of the reasons you’re not scared of him is because he has saved your life more times than you could count, and why would you be scared of someone who continually keeps you alive, most of the time at his own expense?

➼ “No, don't eat those berries, they’re poisonous…wha-what do you mean you already had five?!”

➼ He had to do some poison control that day… and it wasn’t very fun.

➼ Every time he saves your life he always tells you that he’ll just leave you next time but you know that’s not true at all.

➼ You would also always get injured for stupid reasons so he’d take care of your wounds like he did when you both first officially met (he’d laugh first though)

➼ One of the days you visited you realized you had a talent for making flower crowns so you would spend a lot of time with him doing it while you both talked and walked around the woods.

➼ You mostly gave yours to him as a gift

➼ He would grumble and act like he hated it but he would keep them on anyway and he kept all of them. After a while it grew into a small collection that he secretly cherishes.

➼ Sukuna secretly (though, it wasn’t a secret to you) loved these meetings, and your visits were the highlight of his day every time.

ꨄ Early Relationship: Locked Away ꨄ

➼ Sukuna was confused at first when you stopped visiting him after sleeping with him.

➼ He thought he did something wrong and you didn’t have a good time, or that he hurt you in some way.

➼ He tried to put on the tough guy act at first and tried to convince himself that he didn’t like you all that much anyways.

➼ Obviously, it wasn’t true and he’s a big softy on the inside so he gave into his temptations to see you.

➼ When he saw the guards by your bedroom window, he realized what happened, and remembered that you always had to sneak out to see him.

➼ Once he realized what actually happened he chastised himself for being so pouty and feeling sorry for himself instead of going to see you sooner.

➼ To make up for this he goes to look at you every day as you stand by your window.

➼ Eventually, you noticed him and you both would spend the whole day just sitting with each other from afar.

➼ Sometimes he would see you cry when he visited and his heart would break because he couldn’t wipe your tears away.

➼ He has resisted the urge to attempt to fight the guards by your window more than he can count.

➼ Only reason he didn’t was his fear of making things worse for you if he did.

➼ On the day of your wedding, he noticed that you weren’t by your window like usual.

➼ He learned his lesson about giving up on you too soon, so he decided instead of leaving you be, that he would go around the castle and look for you to see if you were okay.

➼ Too invested in finding you, he didn’t realize that he stood a tad too close to some of the guards of your castle, leading to him getting caught by them.

➼ That turned out to be a happy accident however, as they led him directly to you and gave you both the chance to run away together.

➼ He was secretly proud of you stabbing someone so easily, but he’ll never tell you that directly.

ꨄ Long-Term Relationship: Cottage Life ꨄ

➼ When you both first found the cottage in the woods, it was in very rough shape.

➼ It was dirty, barely had a roof, and there were broken windows everywhere. It was obvious that no one had lived there for some time.

➼ Well… one man’s trash is another one’s treasure, and you both worked day and night to fix the cottage after first finding it.

➼ You weren’t used to any physical discomfort at all, so it took a while for you to get used to these types of conditions. However, Sukuna always made sure to help you feel better.

➼ For example, one time it rained and you two got super wet inside your home due to the roof not being 100% secure.

➼ It was tough for you. Not only were the two of you wet, but the inside of the home you both spent tons of time fixing up was flooded now as well.

➼ Thankfully, Sukuna always found a way to turn unfortunate situations upside down.

➼ “Come on, let’s go play in the mud, you didn’t eat enough dirt as a kid”

➼ You both immediately felt better once you played in the rain together… especially when Sukuna would be ever the romantic and lift you up to kiss you as water droplets fell on both of you.

➼ After months of sweat and tears, the cottage was finally fixed and cleaned.

➼ It quickly became the love of your life, second only to Sukuna, and you both quickly settled into your humble abode.

➼ You would always wake up first which would give you a few moments where you could stare at Sukuna’s sleeping face

➼ This was your favorite thing to do every morning, because you loved his calm expression more than anything.

➼ Sometimes he catches you and as he opens his eyes he would sarcastically go “Don’t stare. It’s weird” and laugh at your blushing face.

➼ When this happens you would just lightly hit his chest and jokingly tell him to fuck off.

➼ You would always give him a nice long kiss first thing every morning though.

➼ Despite you no longer being a Princess, he always makes sure to pamper you like one anyways.

➼ For example, whenever you have a craving for something that can’t be found in the wild he would make sure to get it at any costs.

➼ This includes traveling hours to the closest villages and sneaking in to take their stuff.

➼ You always get mad at him for doing this because it could put him in serious danger, but he laughs and tells you it’s fine and that in all his time living near humans he was only caught once and it was because of you.

➼ To this, you roll your eyes but you thank him anyways for caring so much about you that he’d work so hard to satisfy such a small craving.

➼ Whenever you’re busy doing something, he makes it a point to catch you off guard and hug you from behind with his four arms.

➼ You’re never actually caught off guard and can sense him from miles away (he has very loud footsteps), but you pretend anyway to get him to keep doing it.

➼ Most days you both spend your time walking around and exploring the nature around you both. However, on particularly lazy days, you two spend most of the day just cuddling together.

➼ One thing that stays the same is that every night both of you look at the stars like the first night you two spent together.

➼ Unlike that first night though, Sukuna would always make it a point to go down on you while outside.

➼ Also unlike that first night, there was no pressure to rush home so you two would fall asleep outside under the stars.

➼ One time though, you woke up screaming when you found a giant bug crawling on you. Sukuna took the bug away but would always make fun of you for it whenever you both decided to sleep outside.

➼ Sukuna would tell you he loved you in the most random of times: Walking around, eating dinner, anywhere really. He would just look you in the eyes and quietly say “I love you”.

➼ This is always paired with small kisses all over your face that make you giggle because of how ticklish they are.

➼ He was able to make you some pretty good dresses with the most random of cloth that he found around the woods. They weren’t the most formal, but they were certainly the best dresses you’ve ever had, being handmade by someone you loved.

➼ You once again tell him he doesn’t have to do all this but he makes you stuff anyway.

➼ “Who said it was about you? This shit is fun as hell!” which made you laugh.

➼ Living together, you had to learn to do a lot of things related to maintaining a home like cleaning since you weren’t used to doing this stuff yourself.

➼ Sukuna told you that it’s fine and that he’d do it but you insisted that you should learn how to do things on your own now that you’re independent.

➼ Being the good teacher that he is, Sukuna would go on to teach you basic chores.

➼ He would still tease you sometimes while teaching you though. Such as one time when you accidentally burned yourself by the fire trying to make dinner and he laughed when you kept flailing your hand everywhere.

➼ He didn’t bully you for too long though, he was still worried of course. So, he made sure to heal the burns and help kiss them better.

➼ You’re still able to make those flower crowns like before, so you guys would make flower crowns for each other all the time, and this time Sukuna didn’t hide how proud he was of them.

➼ Everytime he gave you yours he’d give you a small kiss on the forehead before placing the crown on your head.

➼ You would try to do the same and would go on your tippy toes trying to reach him, but he’s hella tall so it doesn’t work.

➼ “Jesus, you are 9 ft tall”

➼ “Is that what they tell people? That’s not true at all” He would smile, crossing his arms as you attempted to jump up to place the crown on him.

➼ “Well whatever you are I can’t reach you”

➼ He eventually lifts you up by your hips and lets you place the crown on him and give him his little forehead kiss.

➼ Whenever you two are together, he always has his hands on you (he has four of course, and he needs to put them to good use). Whether it’s placing your hand on his, or having an arm around your waist, one hand always had to be on you.

➼ You both have every meal together, from breakfast to dinner. They’re mostly quiet and you both just take the time to bask in each other’s presence.

➼ From this, you learned just how much Sukuna LOVES to eat.

➼ You noticed this already before of course, since your relationship started with you bringing him food, but you really notice it once you begin eating together

➼ Sometimes when he’s eating his food too quickly you tell him to take it easy in order to not upset his stomach

➼ In response, he’d point to his smiling stomach mouth and go “Does he look upset to you?”

➼ You’d just laugh at this point lol and leave him be with one last comment about how he seriously shouldn’t eat so fast

➼ He listens for a bit and takes smaller bites, but he goes right back into it after a few minutes.

➼ You weren’t great at cooking at first, but Sukuna didn’t really care and ate your food anyways

➼ “Don’t worry I eat anything, this is trash though” he’d say with food in his mouth, only half joking.

➼ Once you got better at the skill, he always insisted for you to cook or for the two of you to cook together since it tasted better when you did it (when you knew what you were doing, of course).

➼ In the back of his head, he always remembers the time you were taken away from him.

➼ He’s always worried about you being in danger again, but whenever he sees you asleep next to him he can’t help but think of anything but what he ever did to deserve you

➼ Of course, from the moment you wake up to see his sleeping face, you can’t help but think the same thing about him.

➼ Your life is a lot different now. Not only do you no longer have the title of Princess, but you’ve traded in your castle for a tiny cottage, and a crown for dirt-covered feet. Yet, you wouldn’t change it for the world… because for every painful burn and disgusting bug on you, is his smile, and that smile is worth more than any title.

A/N: Enjoyed seeing Fairy Tale!Sukuna? Just a reminder that if you haven’t read it yet, please feel free to read the story that these headcanons are based on!

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violetsiren90 · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut (eventual fluff 😂); BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom; MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace lol; Hobi in the studio 👀 (The full oneshot will come with more specific warnings - a looooong list lol)

Mood board here! ⛓🖤

Release date: Christmas? 🎄

Author's note: Hey, y'all! I am catapulting out of my comfort zone with this one and, honestly, having the time of my life. I've been in my Hobi era lately and when the concept of dom!Hobi possessed my mind I knew I'd have to write it out or else. 😅😂 I hope to pop this under your trees around Christmas! Hope you enjoy the teaser, and as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Also, a big thank you to @orchidyoonkook for beta reading this - you are the real MVP! 💕

If you want to be alerted via the tag list for this when it drops, let me know!

_______________________________________________

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

"Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair.

"Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes.

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

"Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

"He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me."

At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath.

Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down. It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

"Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

"I told him...I said..."

"What?"

"Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. Shit.

"Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

"Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

You don't answer him. You can't. Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his grey sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

"Is it?"

You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

"Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bare.

"You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

"...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

"Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

"Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?"

"When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom -

"When you're a filthy pathetic little slut."

A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together (to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure), and that's when he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes fluttering frantically open.

"Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?" Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long, something that longs to feed.

You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

"I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want - your friend. Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

"Yes - yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body. You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.

"A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his words.

You blink, your mind running up against the sudden saccharine pet name (which he has admittedly called you before) as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

"Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

"Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever - okay? You say that. Foxglove."

You nod.

"Say it for me," he whispers, you shiver again. Fuck.

"Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

"Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

You scramble to find your voice.

"Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

"I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

"See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

"Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

"No, Hobi," you whisper. And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

"That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and completely exhilarating. When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want. You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

"You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

"Make me."

#fic teaser #hoseok fic #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hobi x reader #hobi smut #hobi x y/n #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope x y/n #jhope imagine #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #fic: make me

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hoonigiris · 8 months ago

Text

— things we never said

s. jaeyun x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k genre: angst (i think) content: exes!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, aespa's ningning and winter cameos for naming purposes only. normal people inspired. misc. notes: thank you to the jake fuckers (@gluion @mosviqu) for being my motivation to 1) write this drabble and more importantly 2) Finish this drabble. kept you in my thoughts when i wrote this xoxo. also a specific thank you to @sungbeam for being the first person to read it in full. and lastly, a special thank you to paul mescal for being just the perfect amount of pathetic i needed in bbc's miniseries normal people.

synopsis: in which it's heeseung's wedding, jake's had too much to drink, and really, he just misses you. perhaps what happens after are the things he should never say.

jake’s shoes squeeze too tight around his toes.

realistically, through the haze of the alcohol, he knows he should be worried about other things. maybe any other thing, like how he needs to figure out how to get this champagne stain out of his shirt before his company dinner on friday, or how the bass of the dj's last set is still ringing in his ears, or how he's pretty sure this little escapade would probably qualify as date-ditching, considering the way yizhuo has been texting him 'where r u??' for the past twenty minutes.

jake's head buzzes, the aftertaste of his last beer resting firm on his tongue. in retrospect, perhaps the fourth glass he filled right before they cut the cake was one too many, but it’s too late to regret it now. the glass is sitting empty on the table, and instead of being out on the dance floor with the rest of his friends, jake is here—under the gazebo, heart in throat, phone in hand. his thumb hovers over the contact, still saved, and stares for a long time.

he shouldn’t. he knows he shouldn’t.

(not that it really matters. knowing better and doing better are two things jake has never been very good at keeping the same.)

he hits call.

the dial rings and rings and rings. jake can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, he just keeps listening to the endless tinny trilling. and then—

“hello?”

“hi.” his voice catches. “it’s me.”

you pause, the silence crackling over the speaker. “what’s up?”

jake’s throat goes tight, tongue heavy as he tries to fumble his way around his words. your voice is just like he remembers, intimately close even from the speaker. he wonders what he can say, to make up for the months of not speaking to each other. how are you? how’s work? do you still set 5 alarms in the morning before you have to wake up so you can enjoy the feeling of going back to sleep?

“it’s heeseung’s wedding today,” he says eventually. you didn’t show up.

there’s a beat of silence, before:

“i know,” you reply gently, the silent accusation he doesn’t mean to throw landing softly between the two of you. “i already called him this morning to say congratulations. there’s a wedding gift that should be shipped soon, actually,” you continue, as if it makes your absence any better. “i think he’ll like it, you know. he’s been talking about getting that coffee grinder on his wedding registry before that registry even existed—”

“y/n.”

the line goes completely quiet, like you’re bracing yourself for what he could say next. normally he would leave it be, set down the phone and apologize and go back to the venue to celebrate with the rest of his friends. but right now, jake is drunk, and his head hurts, and all the sounds ring around him and merge together into a single sound, pressed tight against his ear. his chest feels rubbed raw, the burning question flickering and coming out all in a rush. “did you not come because of me?”

“jake,” you chide, almost immediately. he missed the way you say his name, even like this. “you know that’s not it.”

he laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck, feeling scolded. just like old times. “isn’t it?”

there’s a disapproving noise on the other end, like you take offense in him even having doubts. “you know i wish i could have been there.”

jake hesitates, just a little. it’s a stupid thought, and it would be even stupider to say, but he supposes he should keep the streak going, since he’s already started tonight. “you could still come.”

you let out a small laugh, entertaining the thought. “yeah?”

jake nods, as if you can hear it. maybe you can. maybe you didn’t have to, to know. “yeah, the night is still young. i’m sure everyone would be happy to see you again—you could come right now, if you really wanted to.”

“and do what, exactly?” you tease.

he shrugs, smiling. “give a belated toast? we all gave one, you know.”

“oh, and heeseung agreed to that?”

“as if he could stop us,” jake counters. “we had to make sure the bride knew what she was marrying! one embarrassing story from each of us!”

“and pray tell,” you say, bemused, “what story did you share with the audience? no wait—let me guess.” you hum, as if tapping your chin for the exaggerated effect. “the time he tried to flirt with that senior in the library and fell on his ass because he missed the chair? or the time when—oh! what about when he got drunk and wanted to get matching tattoos with everyone and then started crying the second it started cause it hurt so bad?”

“no, actually,” jake laughs. “sunghoon and jay already took those. mine was about when he accidentally hit on riki’s mom the entire night and found out the morning after.”

“you better have turned those stories into anecdotes about how happy their marriage is going to be,” you warn wryly.

jake waves you off. “sunoo and jungwon got the sentimental part. we were in charge of making sure minjeong knew what she was getting herself into.”

you sigh exasperatedly, something rustling on your end. maybe the papers you were reorganizing on your desk, or the tinfoil on the table as you tried to heat up a late night snack. “so much for adulthood—all you boys are the same.”

the same. as if he wasn’t here and you weren’t there, so, so far away.

“you could still come.” jake repeats. it’s a sobering effect. at least, he’d like to think so, but he’s still trying his hardest for his tongue to not stumble over some words, and he can’t look at the fairy lights adorning the top of the gazebo for too long before his head starts to pound again.

“you could tell your favorite memory of heeseung to make up for ours,” he continues, “write down your congratulations on the wedding book yourself. they’re even playing your favorite song right now, you could come and show everyone how it’s done.” jake fumbles with the ring on his index finger, twisting it with his thumb. the heel of his shoe scuffs once into the wood below his feet. it’s all too tight. “come—have fun. we could even pretend not to know each other.”

the line goes quiet. a breath drawn. and then, softly, “i would never pretend to not know you, jake.”

he blinks, swallowing hard. it would be funny, if it weren’t so sad, the way jake was the one who called you, yet he’s the one without anything to say. rather, the things he wants to say, he can’t. you would have cried at the vows, he thinks. the exchanging of promises at the altar, rings slipped onto each other’s fingers. you were always soft for those kinds of things.

(everyone looked at heeseung and minjeong when they said their vows. the words creep up his throat; he pushes them back down. i thought of you instead.)

jake is sure everyone knows, to some degree, at least. it’s why heeseung looked at him a little strange when he saw his date at the entrance, why everyone seemed to avoid mentioning your name like the plague around him. it’s not for lack of trying—moving past you. it’s why he brought yizhuo along in the first place, why he’s been doing everything he can to distract himself, why he’s been trying his best to not think of you again.

but tonight was different. tonight, where all his friends are gathered to celebrate, and the alcohol in his system warms his skin as the evening air grows chilly, and everyone he loves is here within reach except for you, jake finds that he’s still admitting it to himself, even months after.

(i miss you. more words he can’t say to you anymore. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you.)

“sorry,” he says eventually. jake isn’t really sure what for. maybe all of it.

“i…” you start out, but it trails off into silence. maybe it would have been an apology to match, but he thinks you knew it wouldn’t have sounded right either. there wasn’t really anything left to say. jake is here, and you’re there, and that distance isn’t really something either of you can fill anymore.

across the garden, jake can hear his name echoing across the venue. he’s pretty sure it’s sunoo, telling him to get his ass on the dance floor to get down to the dj’s newest rendition of apple bottom jeans, but it all sort of meshes together between the bushes and the trees.

“you should go,” you say lightly. “dance off the rest of the alcohol so you don’t wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow.”

you knew. jake burns a little out of embarrassment, feeling a bit like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. he doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that you could tell he was drunk from the beginning, or the fact that this meant you knew the first person he thought to drunk-dial was you.

“oh, don’t act surprised.” it’s a light-hearted jibe, but jake’s heart crawls up his throat and sits there, thick. “your pronunciation always gets sloppy when you’ve had too many drinks.”

of course you knew. you always did, like he never needed to say anything at all.

“you got me,” he responds, hoarse.

“what did you get this time? whiskey? margaritas? no way you got this drunk off hard seltzers—”

“beer.” sunoo calls his name again, closer, more insistent. “one too many.”

you laugh, and he wants to drown in it a little more, until he remembers it enough to not miss you anymore. “the great jake sim, taken down by an IPA.”

maybe he should thank it, if it got you to speak to him again. the skin sitting underneath his ring burns red. he needs to take off his tie. his shoes are still too tight around his toes. “i wish you were here.” maybe there were some things he needed to say, after all.

you smile, fond. he can’t see it, but there are some things about you he just knows, too. “bye, jake.”

but in the end, this is all there is to it: a him, and a you, and two versions of each other that you both can’t come back to. not anymore.

and that’s something that never needs to be said.

jake looks at the center of the altar, and he thinks he sees a glimpse of something else—the afterimage of love, a vision of two people left stranded from time. it disappears as quickly as it came. his breath hitches. there’s nothing left but this.

“bye, y/n.”

#enhypen x reader #jake x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #jaeyun x reader #jake scenarios #enhypen angst

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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 2 months ago

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the problem with the whole "you want [insert certain trope/archetype] but you can't even handle [insert certain character/ship pertaining to said trope]" is that it makes such a sweeping assumption.

like do y'all really think that the same people who want complex female characters are the ones who hate katara or mabel?

maybe some of them are. but i also know for a fact that a lot of people who hate these characters have absolutely no interest in seeing good female representation, and that a lot of people who want complex female characters absolutely love katara and mabel.

i promise you, the venn diagram of people who like a certain trope and people who hate certain characters does NOT overlap as much as you think.

not to mention, people can like a trope and still dislike a character/ship who fits into that trope. there may be legitimate reasons for why they dislike the character.

yeah, i like complex female characters but the reason i don't like catra is because her complexity is swept under the rug in the last season.

i like toxic fictional ships but i don't like c//a because the toxicity is heavily romanticized.

also, i think people are just starting to make up things just to support their argument. the other day, i saw a post about sto/litz where the op was like “y'all want complex mlm relationships with miscommunication where both characters are wrong but trying their best, but you can't handle sto/litz!”

and first of all, i wanted to laugh because of how oddly specific that post was. like i've never seen someone say they wanted this exact trope, word for word. that just sounds dumb.

and secondly, i don't think anyone ever will say anything even close to that. first of all, miscommunication is one of the most hated tropes in fiction. no one wants to see yet another miscommunication trope (although i doubt that's what even happens with sto/litz).

and secondly, there's a very clear reason why people hate this ship, and you know it. stop acting like people are just being hypocrites. sto/litz is not a "complex mlm relationship", it's just glorified SA and abuse. call it what it is.

anyway, this whole genre of posts pisses me off because they're trying to make a point that i sometimes agree with, but they try to do it by making it seem like everyone is a hypocrite who doesn't want the trope they asked for.

#fandom critical #fandom stupidity #media critical #rant

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reiding-writing · 1 year ago

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macarons and misunderstandings [ s.r ]

Summary:

You coax Spencer into joining you in a bakery café that your friend recommended you to visit whilst on a case in NYC, and although it starts as two friends getting lunch together, it doesn’t end that way.

WARNINGS: minor swearing, wholesome miscommunication

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just the most sickeningly sweet wholesome fluff

wc: 3.4k

masterlist!!

a/n: rest assured, i will be returning to my comfort zone of hurt/comfort for my next fic bc i cannot write wholesome stuff for the life of me 😭

“Alright, take a break everyone, we’ll pick this back up after everyone’s had the chance to eat,” Hotch’s voice rings across the NYPD conference room alongside the closing of the file he was reading from, and he tucks the manilla folder under his arm as he stands. “I want you all back here by 1:30,”

There’s a small chain of nods and ‘yes sir’s before the team is rising from the table and grabbing their belongings to vacate the police station to go and get some lunch, and you manage to catch Spencer right before he leaves. “Hey Spence-”

“Hm? Yeah?” He does a full U-turn with his body, almost walking straight into you in the process if not for his hand still holding the door open to give him a point of balance, and you have to stifle a small smile that tries to break its way onto your face.

“You got any plans for lunch or can I effectively kidnap you for an hour?”

Spencer gives you slightly furrowed expression although doesn’t seem opposed to the idea. “I’m not sure that was the best way to word that but no I haven’t,”

“Yeah probably not-“ You let out a small breath that could almost constitute as a laugh. "Anyway, apparently there’s a really good french bakery like two blocks away from here, we should go check it out before Hotch changes his mind and decides we’re confined to the station,”

“Right… yeah uh-.” Spencer laughed softly, encouraging you out of the door ahead of him before following behind you. “A bakery sounds really nice actually,”

"My friend told me about it when she was down here for fashion week, she said it has some of the best pastries she’s ever tried," You emphasise the word ‘best’ with your hands, and Spencer’s eyes followed them as he got caught up in your enthusiasm.

One of your favourite things about your oddly-developed friendship with Spencer was that you could do things like take a trip to a bakery together without a single hint of awkwardness.

Long since had the silences between you held any unfamiliar tension or apprehension when it came to getting to know each other those five years ago.

It was comfortable. Secure. And you weren’t entirely sure it was just a ‘friendship’.

“Did she happen to mention what type of pastries they have?” Spencer asked you, his eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity.

"She specifically mentioned the almond croissants, although i’m also eager to try their lemon crêpes because they sound absolutely amazing," You continue to exaggerate what you’re saying with your hands as you push open the door of the Police Station, exiting into the cool autumnal breeze of the New York City streets.

Spencer followed closely behind you, nodding along to what you were saying as he placed his hands the pockets of his tattered trench coat. Although, he wasn’t entirely listening to the words leaving your mouth, too focused on how the autumn breeze blew your hair softly and how the partially concealed rays of sun made your eyes look like they they held all of the stars in the milky way.

"Ooh, and macarons-" You turn towards Spencer as your excitement about what pastries to get overtakes any lingering thoughts of the case you’re working on, gripping onto his sleeve with your left hand.

You were excited about the pastries; He was excited about the warmth of your hand through his sleeve.

“Macarons do sound good. You know what would go really well with them?” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, smiling like you’d ripped the sun from the sky and given it to him as a present. “Hot chocolate.”

"Oh you are so right-" You give an immediate sharp nod at Spencer’s suggestion, sliding down his arm to rest on the inside of his elbow, fingers pressed gently into the slight curve created from where his hands rested inside his pockets.

To the unassuming eye, the two of you most probably looked like a couple out on a date, your arms linked and Spencer looking at you like you were the only person in existence.

Spencer was very aware that the way you touched him made it look like you were in a relationship.

And it made him feel a little giddy.

He had to force himself back to reality. He wasn’t in a relationship with you. All he was doing was going out with you as a friend to grab some pastries for lunch. That’s it.

"Okay so we have definite yeses to macarons and hot chocolate, I feel like we’ve gotta get at least one almond croissant considering how much my friend was raving about them, anything else?"

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a crêpe before. Maybe we should try one of those?”

Spencer had a sudden urge to kiss you, and he didn’t really know why. Maybe it was gentle heat of your fingers against his arm. Maybe it was the light pink flush on your cheeks from the cold breeze. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been subconsciously pining after you for years to the point where he could barely think of anything else.

"Yes. Definitely. 100%." You give the inside of his elbow a small squeeze at the prospect of introducing him to the delicacy that is french crêpes. "I cannot let you live a life without crêpes in it."

Spencer nodded along arbitrarily, not listening to a single word that you just said as he internally imagined how it would feel to have your hands in his hair and your lips on his skin.

Why wasn’t he in a relationship with you? You were just… perfect, and he was really into you.

He felt like there had to be a reason why you weren’t together, but that train of thought made Spencer fluster to the point he was afraid you’d be able to see it if he thought about it any longer.

"Aha," You make an exclamation of victory as the bakery comes into view, pushing the door open with a soft bell chime and tugging Spencer inside with you with a gentle but excited insistence.

The bakery looked amazing, although much closer to a café. It had a small quaint European feel to it despite it being on a main Street in New York City, and surprisingly, it wasn’t that busy either. It was the exact type of bakery that Spencer had hoped it would be.

You scour the chalkboard menu for a second to make sure they actually had everything you wanted before going up to order, and Spencer noticed as your hand slid downwards to the inside of his wrist so that you could lean forward to see the chalk whilst still keeping yourself anchored to him.

He was definitely blushing now, his heart taunting him as it pounded against his chest.

Spencer wanted to ask you to kiss him, or at least hold his hand, but the thought of bringing attention to the unspoken connection the two of you had may ruin it stopped him from saying anything, not wanting to risk losing what he currently had in the very minor instance of gaining something more.

"You’re alright with sharing a croissant and a crêpe right? I figure it might be too much otherwise-"

Spencer nodded with a smile. “I don’t mind sharing a croissant and a crêpe with you.”

You give him a beamed smile and a nod as you leave his side to go and order, shutting down his offer to pay before he could even suggest it.

He subconsciously ran his fingers over his wrist as he waited for you, trying to compensate from the loss of your touch and the gentle warmth that accompanied it as he watched you engage in polite small talk with the cashier.

You looked so sweet. So perfect.

"let’s sit outside yeah? it’s a nice day," You retreat back towards him with a tray balanced in your hands, two mugs of hot chocolate joined with four coloured macarons and a single croissant and crêpe, carefully distributed to balance the weight as you carry it.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer nods at you softly, a wistful expression still on his face as he takes you by the elbow in order to help you carry the tray safely.

The reinstating of your previous contact brought a small flush back over his cheeks, and even through his hands were only brushing against the fabric of your shirt, it still felt oddly intimate.

The two of you walk over to a vacant table, set under a large parasol that casted the table in a comfortable shade.

Spencer took a seat across from you as you both sat down, separated by a small table in between the two of you.

Funny how a little table could do that.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Oh my god we are definitely coming back here next time we have a case down here-" You give a satisfied sigh as you wipe your fingers on a serviette, placing it inside your empty mug and pulling out your phone to check the time.

1:17.

You should get back to the station.

The thought of having to go back dampened your mood a little, and not just because it meant you now had to spend the rest of the day bent over a desk to curate a profile.

You really enjoyed spending time with Spencer like this, whether it be accompanying him to a new museum exhibit or driving him to buy his groceries so he wouldn’t have to sit behind the wheel.

It was a small highlight of your time not spent working, and you always found yourself disheartened when it was time to leave.

“We should definitely come back.” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, catching the mild change in your expression. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah- yeah i’m good,” You give him a nod and a reassuring smile as you stand from you seat with him following not long after you. “Just not exactly looking forward to going back to work,”

“Yeah I understand what you mean,” Spencer gives a small laugh, stuffing his hands back into his pockets again.

"We should do this more often you know,” You tilt your head slightly at him, the words leaving your mouth without any thought behind them. "I uh- enjoy spending time with you like this,"

“I enjoy spending time with you too,” Spencer smiled gently.

He looked at you, feeling a slight bit of courage at your confession of enjoying spending time with him one on one.

Come on Spencer, just ask them out already.

"I’m glad," You give Spencer a half-laugh, turning away from him slightly to hide the flushed nature of your cheeks from your embarrassment.

Spencer’s eyes studied you, and he felt like now might be the time. You two were still technically off work, you loved spending time together, and you’d just spent the last half an hour listening to him rant about the new book he was reading whilst the two of you drank hot chocolate and shared french pastries with each other.

You weren’t just friends. You were more than that.

At least he hoped so.

“Can I take you out… on a date?” Spencer’s voice was soft, but it carried confidence.

"A- date?" You stop walking in the middle of the street, your body re-directing any cognitive functioning to focus on computing Spencer’s question.

Spencer stopped as you did, eyes entirely trained on your expression. He couldn’t help but look at how beautiful you were right now. Your face painted with a blush and a mild look of confusion characterised through the slight furrow in your eyebrows.

“Y- yeah… do you want to go on a date with me?”

Of course it was okay if you didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt Spencer. He’d handle the rejection. Right?

"I- Yeah-" You nod quickly, a little too enthusiastically if you were to think about it logically. “Yes,”

"I’d love to go on a date with you-" You’re words are rushed and slightly muddled together as you hastily agree to his proposition, but they get the point across.

Spencer’s face lit up with a blush as you said yes.

That’s wonderful news.

A small grin spread across his face. “I’m glad…” The words slipped out without Spencer realising it, joined by a notable fluster.

He was glad.

He was absolutely thrilled about the fact you want to go on a date with him.

Spencer was so incredibly grateful that you said yes.

“Wouldn’t- I mean- We just like went out together and got food and talked and stuff- was that… a date?-“ You gesture your hand back to the bakery café the two of you had just left.

You weren’t exactly wrong, and he understood your confusion.

“I suppose it follows the motions of a date,” Spencer looked at you, overtaken by how perfectly ethereal you looked with the breeze fluttering against your shirt and a blush covering your cheeks.

“But an actual date would be much more romantic.” His words were confident, even if he was embarrassed that he was admitting to you just how much of a romantic he was underneath his façade of being uninterested in finding someone.

"So it wasn’t a date?” You raise an eyebrow slightly, fiddling with your sleeves. “Because I want to kiss you but if it wasn’t a date then I can’t because you can’t kiss someone without going on a date with them first because it breaks date etiquette-”

Spencer’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble without taking a single breath. You wanted to kiss him?

You wanted to kiss him.

Spencer was trying to keep his emotions in check as he stared at you. Your words made him tingle with excitement. “Um… you can- still kiss me if you want…?”

You shake your head with determination. “You can’t kiss someone before you’ve been on a date with them,”

Spencer looked so utterly confused.

So, you didn’t want to kiss him?

He wanted to kiss you.

“Why not? Your logic makes no sense. Why can’t kiss me?” Spencer was so utterly confused, his eyebrows knitted in a way that made you want to plant your lips between them as he tried to understand what your issue was.

"My logic makes complete sense-" You cross your arms over your chest as you gesture for the two of you to keep walking with a nod of your head.

"Everybody knows that you never kiss somebody until the end of the first date, it curses your whole future relationship otherwise,"

Spencer couldn’t help but stare at you blankly.

What he heard you say was wrong. Really wrong.

You should kiss someone whenever you want to kiss someone. Especially if they’re your crush.

But you were adamant you couldn’t kiss Spencer because of this stupid arbitrary rule.

"Well, if you’d have agreed to my judgement that our bakery stop was a date then you’d be getting a kiss," You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, lips pressed into a straight line. "But you don’t, therefore I can’t kiss you,"

Spencer stared at you in disbelief as you spoke, before his eyes widened.

He knew what you wanted to hear, and so he gave in.

It was the only way he’d get a kiss.

“Okay okay- It was a date at the bakery I was wrong-”

He hated how desperate he sounded, but you were so beautiful, you were stunning, you were the most gorgeous person he ever met.

Spencer wanted to be with you. And you were giving him an in to finally press his lips against your perfect face.

"Are you sure?" You furrow your eyebrows at him in mock accusation, agains stopping in your tracks to stand in front of him with your eyes fixed on his face.

Spencer sighed. “I… yes. It was a date. I was just being silly…” Spencer took your hand for a moment as he spoke to you, interlacing his fingers in yours and feeling the warmth of your hands against his frigidly cold ones.

He wanted you to know that he felt a lot differently towards you compared to how he’d felt about anyone else.

You were special.

And he wanted you.

"Right you are pretty boy," You give his hand a small squeeze as you use your other to cup his face, pulling it towards you with a gentle insistence so that you could press a chaste kiss to those perfect pink lips that had just been begging you to silence them. "You were being silly,"

Spencer’s face lit up with another blush as you called him pretty boy.

Of course you thought Spencer was pretty. Not handsome or beautiful.

Pretty.

He let himself be pulled in closer as you spoke to him teasingly, telling him that he was being silly.

And then… your lips. Pressed against his with a soft pressure that he gladly returned.

That was all it took for Spencer to feel like the luckiest man on earth.

"Here’s to a successful first date," You chuckle softly as your lips part, your noses brushing as you lean back to admire the rosy tint to his cheeks and the beaming smile that accompanied it.

Spencer felt so happy. So overwhelmingly, sickeningly happy.

And so, he did a thing that he never thought he had the courage to do. He pulled you into his arms, leaning in to kiss you with so much fervour that you were relying on the strength of his hands on your waist for stability.

Spencer didn’t know when he’d get the opportunity to do this again. So he was 100% going to make the most of it.

You can’t help the smile that erupts on your face as he pulls you in again, your hands cradling his cheeks and your head tilted ever so slightly to the left as you rested your weight into his hands.

If you’d recorded this moment and told him it was a scene from a cheesy romance movie he would’ve believed you.

As the two of you reluctantly pull away due to the unfortunate human necessity of breathing, you catch a glance at the watch face on the inside of your wrist.

1:29.

“Shit- We really need to get back to the station.” Your hands fall from his face to grab one of his own, pulling him down the streets as you hurry back to the police station, mildly out of breath and still completely flustered.

“So-“ Spencer pulled a small resistance against your hands as the two of you stopped outside of the door.

“We’re going on a second date once we get home right?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

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lovetaroandtaemin · 2 months ago

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NSFW Alphabet: Park Seonghwa

MINORS DNI!!!!!

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: N/A

Rating: Explicit

Type: Headcanon list

Warnings: Creampies, breeding kink, dom/sub themes, use of titles ("daddy," "mommy," "sir"), lingerie, mentions of choking. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: I know it's been a long time since my last NSFW alphabet, but none of the full fics I currently have in progress are finished. Since I really wanted to post something this week, I figured this would be a good way to get something out. If there's a specific idol you'd like to see me do a list like this for, feel free to send a request via asks or dms!

Taglist: @xomakara, @heechwe, @shadowkoo, @gyubakeries

List is under the cut.

A - Aftercare

(What they're like after sex)

I think that Seonghwa would be incredibly gentle and do anything and everything that you needed to feel ok after intense sex. He does whatever he can to make you feel safe, comfortable, and loved, and the time spent holding you close when everything is said and done makes him feel the same.

B - Boobs or Ass

(Are they a boobs man or an ass man?)

I fully believe that he would be a boobs man. I don’t know how to explain why, it’s just a vibe that I get from him.

C - Cum

(Anything to do with cum)

I just know that this man LOVES to finish inside you. The breeding kink is strong, of course, but that’s not the only reason why. Still being connected to you when he reaches his high makes him feel closer to you, in a way.

D - Dirty Secret

(Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He tells you that he doesn’t have a preferred title, but I have a very strong feeling that he actually prefers being called “daddy” in bed. Sure, he also likes “mommy” and “sir,” but the desperation that hits him whenever you call him “daddy” is unmatched.

E - Experience

(How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

I don’t think that he would hook up with a lot of people, so maybe not a whole lot of experience in that regard. But, I think that he would have had a lot of sex in previous relationships, so he definitely knows what he’s doing when it comes to bedroom activities.

F - Favorite Position

(What's their favorite sex position?)

I think that he would enjoy missionary because he loves making eye contact during sex. It just makes the whole thing feel so much more intimate.

G - Goofy

(Are they more serious in the moment, or are they more silly, etc)

Definitely on the more serious side for the most part, but there are definitely occasional silly moments.

H - Hair

(How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Neatly trimmed. He doesn’t like letting hair get out of control.

I - Intimacy

(How are they in the moment, romantic aspect)

So so so so so romantic in bed. In his mind, sex is an expression of love, so there’s no reason for him to be anything but romantic. You never feel unloved during sex with Seonghwa.

J - Jack Off

(Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t like to do it unless he’s really desperate. Even then, it’s usually only when he’s away from you, like when he’s on tour. I think he’d greatly prefer sex with a partner to masturbation.

K - Kink

(One or more of their kinks)

Ok so I know I mentioned this in my “Ateez: Dom or Sub and Their Top Kinks” post, but I really think that he would have a thing for lingerie. Something about seeing the person that he loves all dressed up for him drives him wild.

L - Location

(Favorite place to have sex)

Definitely your bed. It’s comfortable, there’s more than enough room for both of you, and he likes not having to worry about getting caught like he did in the more adventurous places that the two of you have chosen for getting busy.

M - Motivation

(What turns them on?)

This man loves being wanted. There are very few things that turn him on more than you being needy for him. Something about you wanting him as badly as he wants you just drives him crazy.

N - No

(Something they won't do)

There’s no way in hell he would ever choke you. He doesn’t judge the people that are into it, but it’s just a tiny bit too intense for him to be comfortable doing it.

O - Oral

(Preference in giving or recieving, skill, etc.)

I think his preference in giving or receiving would depend on the mood he’s in. Sometimes, he just needs to feel your mouth around him, but there are also times that all he wants is to watch you come undone on his tongue. When it comes to skill, I definitely think he’d be good at it.

P - Pace

(Are they fast and rough, slow and sensual, etc.)

For the most part, I think that he would want to take things slow. With that being said, I also think that there are moments where he loses control a little bit and goes a little bit rougher. Never too much, just enough that you know he’s really desperate.

Q - Quickie

(Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

I really don’t think that he’d like quickies all that much, but there are definitely moments that he just needs to feel you, time constraints be damned.

R - Risk

(Is he down to experiment, does he take risks, etc.)

Most of the time, I don’t think he’d really be willing to take risks. I think that there are some situations where he’d be down to experiment, but overall, the concern that whatever it is that he’s curious about would be too much for you tends to win over the desire to try something new.

S - Stamina

(How many rounds can he go for, how long does he last)

I really don’t think that he’d want to do more than one round unless he was really in the mood. However, I do think that he’d be able to last for a bit, and you’re never unsatisfied.

T - Toys

(Do they own toys, do they use them, on a partner or on themselves)

Loves using toys, both on you and on himself. He loves the little extra boost that they give him in the bedroom, and he loves having assistance when it comes to making you fall apart for him.

U - Unfair

(How much they like to tease)

I think that he’d really enjoy teasing, but only in specific situations. Like, I don’t think he’d like public teasing, but when you two are just at home, he loves getting you worked up.

V - Volume

(How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I think he’d make a lot of noise, but it wouldn’t necessarily be loud, if that makes sense. Mostly moans and whines, occasionally growls if he really gets into it.

W - Wild Card

(Random headcanon)

Really wants to try being the submissive party sometimes, but has no idea how to bring it up.

X - X-Ray

(Let's see what's going on in those pants)

In my opinion, Seonghwa has the sort of vibe that you wouldn’t expect him to be huge, but he would be. Never too much, but big enough that you pretty much always need time to adjust when he fucks you.

Y - Yearning

(How high is their sex drive?)

I think that his sex drive would probably fluctuate quite a bit, but for the most part, I think it’d be on the higher side.

Z - Zzzzz

(How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

This man gets so so so sleepy after sex, but he refuses to go to sleep until he’s sure that you’re happy and ok with the things that the two of you did. Once you’ve reassured him that you’re ok, he’s out like a light pretty much immediately.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog! If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist is here. If you wanna see what I have in progress, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged in future works, my taglist form is here. If none of the stuff in my masterlist or upcoming works list catches your attention, or there's something else you wanna see (like another NSFW alphabet with a specific idol!), feel free to send a request via asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading this!

#illusionnet #keopihausnet #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard hours

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h4nj1sunggg · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 - ( h. jisung. )

pairing: han jisung x criminalfem!reader. [ mention of other characters and the rest of the skz members ]

genre: fluff, angst, strangers to ?

words: 3.9k

summary: In a world where a mysterious illness has turned animals into aggressive, uncontrollable creatures, the global elite plans a ruthless solution: the complete eradication of all wildlife with a lethal gas. You think it’s all wrong and want to save them by infiltrating a gathering of politicians to gather all the information - not realising how dangerous is.

triggers: sensitive theme of killing animals, be aware of that. y/n has heterochromia (green-blue eyes), she's strongly an animal lover. hanji is not an idol but he's famous in a sort of way?, y/n feels like 'the one'

ᯓᡣ𐭩　 ( masterlist ) .

author note: if you see any similarities with the tv series Zoo, no you didn't!! /j I took inspiration from it. :3 work unfinished!

The room buzzed with low murmurs as Dr. Elara Fenwick stepped to the podium, her stern expression silencing the chatter. The faint hum of machinery in the sleek conference hall underscored the weight of what was about to be said. She adjusted her glasses and began, her voice measured but heavy with concern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what we are witnessing is unprecedented in the natural world—a cascade of symptoms and behaviors that defy previous understandings of biology and virology. We are calling it the 'Thanatos Syndrome'.

It began as isolated cases: a pack of wolves in the northern wilderness turning on one another. A pod of dolphins attacking boats unprovoked. At first, it seemed random—outliers in a chaotic system. But the data now paint a far darker picture. This is not regional. This is not species-specific. This is a global phenomenon.”

She clicked a button on her remote, and the projection screen behind her flickered to life. A rotating 3D image of a virus appeared, its spiky surface glowing ominously.

“The pathogen, classified as ZV-129, is a biogenetic anomaly unlike anything we’ve encountered. It does more than infect—it rewrites, mutate the animals. Our analysis shows that the virus is capable of triggering latent ghost genes within the DNA of infected organisms. These genes, long dormant and largely unstudied, appear to be evolutionary relics—programming designed to amplify aggression and survival instincts. But that’s not all,” she continued, clicking to the next slide.

It displayed a strand of DNA with three interwoven segments highlighted. “We’ve also identified triple-helix DNA structures emerging in infected subjects. This alteration strengthens physical resilience, enhances sensory acuity, and increases aggression to indomitable levels. However, it also destabilizes cellular functions, leading to eventual breakdown and death.”

The image changed again, this time showing a glowing pair of eyes—predatory and unblinking.

“And then there is what we’ve dubbed the indomitable pupil phenomenon. Infected animals’ eyes show an unusual luminosity under infrared light, and they exhibit a psychological shift that makes them immune to fear or pain. These creatures are operating at peak physical and psychological efficiency, but only for a limited time before their bodies burn out. Yet, during that window, they are near unstoppable.”

The room was silent, save for the occasional uneasy shuffling. Dr. Fenwick’s voice grew sharper.

“This is not a localized crisis. It is a rewriting of nature’s rules. ZV-129 is turning the animal kingdom into a battlefield—and humanity is on the front lines. A single infected predator can devastate entire ecosystems. Even herbivores have displayed aggressive behavior, attacking humans and other species indiscriminately.”

She paused, her gaze steely as she surveyed the room.

“Some among us propose eradication—a preemptive strike to exterminate entire species before the virus spreads further. Others, myself included, believe there is another way. If we can isolate the ghost gene triggers, dismantle the triple DNA sequence, and understand the mechanisms behind the indomitable pupil phenomenon, we may find a way to reverse the damage.”

Her voice softened, tinged with desperation.

“The clock is ticking. What we decide here, today, will shape the future of life on Earth. Let us not be remembered as the generation that surrendered to fear and sacrificed the natural world. Let us be the generation that fought for coexistence.”

"We gotta kill 'em all." A whisper, a light voice from the very back of the room where the general Marx Oz is standing, next to the president.

The first time that you went out in the woods that is behind your house you were 10 years old, a wolf surprised you in a very unique way - he wasn't afraid of you like the others.

You stood frozen, your breath misting in the cool evening air as the wolf emerged from the shadows of the trees. His fur was a silvery gray, almost shimmering under the faint light filtering through the canopy above. His golden eyes locked onto yours, unblinking, calculating.

Unlike the deer that bolted at the slightest crack of a twig or the foxes that slinked away before you could catch more than a glimpse of their tails, this wolf held his ground. He even stepped closer.

Your pulse quickened, but not with fear—at least, not entirely. There was something about the way he looked at you, as though he were trying to read you, to understand you.

“Hey there,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. You didn’t move, afraid any sudden motion might break whatever strange connection had formed between you.

The wolf tilted his head, his ears twitching. For a moment, you could swear his gaze flicked from your left eye to your right—as if he’d noticed your mismatched colors. A soft growl rumbled from his chest, not threatening but inquisitive, like a question you couldn’t comprehend.

You crouched down slowly, keeping your movements deliberate. The wolf didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he took another step forward, his paws crunching softly against the leaves.

“You’re different,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

And he was. There was an intelligence in his eyes that didn’t belong to an ordinary animal. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t look away. He was mesmerizing, dangerous, and yet… calming in a way you couldn’t explain.

When he was close enough for you to hear his breathing, he stopped. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, two beings connected by an unspoken understanding. Then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, the wolf turned and darted back into the forest, his form melting into the darkness.

You stayed there for a long moment, your heart racing. Something about that encounter felt profound, like the beginning of something you couldn’t yet name.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over in your mind. The way the wolf had looked at you—directly into your eyes, not like prey, not like a threat, but like something else entirely.

The next day, you ventured into the woods again. And the day after that. It became a ritual. You never saw the wolf again, but the woods felt alive in a way they hadn’t before. As if he were still watching, hidden just beyond the trees.

Until one evening, you heard the growl again—low and unmistakable.

This time, it wasn’t just one.

From that moment, you realised something you hadn’t before: animals were better than any human being you’d ever known. Their honesty, their instincts, the way they didn’t pretend or manipulate—they lived in harmony with a world that humans seemed determined to destroy.

The wolf’s golden eyes stayed with you long after that first encounter. You thought about how he hadn’t feared you, hadn’t attacked, but had simply seen you. It made you wonder how many animals looked at humans and only saw a threat.

That’s when your focus shifted. School had always been something you just trudged through, never finding a subject you cared enough about to dive into. But now, your purpose was clear. You threw yourself into biology, devouring textbooks and documentaries about wildlife, ecosystems, and, eventually, veterinary science.

You started spending more time with animals than people. At first, it was just volunteering at the local shelter, patching up stray dogs and comforting frightened cats. But even there, among creatures who’d been hurt and abandoned, you found a kind of trust and loyalty you’d rarely experienced with people.

As the years passed, you grew more skilled and more determined. You knew that being a veterinarian wasn’t just about treating injured pets; it was about being an advocate for the voiceless, for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

Still, the wolf haunted your thoughts. He’d become a symbol for you—a reminder of the natural world’s quiet resilience and its fragility in the face of human arrogance.

You wondered if he’d survived the outbreak of Thanatos Syndrome that the news had started whispering about. The sickness was spreading faster now, infecting wildlife and creeping closer to human settlements. Every time you saw another story about attacks or mass cullings, your heart sank. You couldn’t shake the image of the wolf, or the way he’d looked at you that day.

“You’re different,” you’d said to him. But maybe you were different too.

The moment the idea struck you, it was as if your entire life had been leading up to it. If no one else was going to protect these creatures, then you would. It wasn’t just about being a vet anymore. It was about fighting for the balance of a world teetering on the edge of collapse.

And if that meant stepping into danger to save animals from both the sickness and the people who wanted to destroy them, then so be it.

The first time you read about Thanatos Syndrome, the name alone sent a chill down your spine. Thanatos—the Greek god of death. Fitting, considering what the sickness had already done to the animal kingdom.

It started with a curiosity, a desperate need to understand. The reports you’d seen on the news were sensationalized: “Animals Gone Mad!” “Killer Wildlife Spreads Chaos!” But behind the panic and headlines, you sensed there was more—something deeper and more complex.

Your initial research began in veterinary school, pouring over pathology journals and viral studies in your rare moments of free time. As your peers studied routine cases like canine distemper or equine colic, you delved into obscure virology papers, tracing the threads of how the illness had first emerged.

Thanatos Syndrome wasn’t just a sickness—it was an unraveling, a real mutation.

Through access to online databases and connections you’d built with a few forward-thinking professors, you pieced together the puzzle piece by piece. The virus targeted neurological pathways with surgical precision, amplifying aggression while suppressing fear and pain responses. This wasn’t accidental—it was engineered by nature in a way that suggested a purpose.

Animals realised that they are not a prey to the human being anymore, but they are the predators. From the ants to the lions.

The most haunting discovery was what you and others called the indomitable pupil phenomenon. Infected animals exhibited a strange luminescence in their eyes under specific wavelengths of light. You hypothesized that this wasn’t just a symptom—it was the visual representation of neural overdrive. The infected weren’t just fighting—they were operating on a level beyond survival, driven by a primal, unrelenting force.

You submitted papers and proposals to your professors, some of whom were fascinated by your findings. Others dismissed your theories as alarmist, insisting that Thanatos Syndrome was simply a mutation of existing viruses. But you knew better. The data didn’t lie.

The true horror came when you began to see patterns in your own fieldwork. Animals you treated—strays, rescues, even beloved pets—started exhibiting subtle signs. A stray dog’s sudden aggression toward the people of the shelter, trying to attack them. A bird crashing into its cage repeatedly, seemingly unable to stop itself. The syndrome was creeping into urban environments, unnoticed by most but glaringly obvious to you.

Your frustration grew as the political response to the outbreak became more extreme. Governments proposed mass cullings of wildlife, ignoring the ecological disasters this would inevitably cause. They weren’t interested in understanding the virus—only in eradicating it.

You refused to accept that as the only solution.

You began studying alternative approaches, branching into genetic editing and virology. What if the ghost genes could be suppressed instead of activated? What if the viral pathways could be blocked? Every answer raised more questions, and every question deepened your determination.

Your work consumed you. Days turned into weeks, then months. You pushed your body to its limits, fueled by caffeine and a stubborn refusal to give up. Every discovery was a step closer to a solution, but also a reminder of how far you still had to go.

The world outside grew darker with each passing day. News of attacks, mass extinctions, and government crackdowns filled the airwaves. Yet, amidst the chaos, you clung to hope—a fragile, unyielding belief that there was still a way to save the animals.

And maybe, just maybe, save yourself too.

Despite all your research, all the sleepless nights spent dissecting the intricacies of Thanatos Syndrome, you were beginning to understand a brutal truth: science alone wasn’t enough. You’d submitted findings, proposals, even appeals to anyone who would listen—government officials, environmental agencies, global health organizations.

But the political machine didn’t care about data. They cared about control.

The reports were becoming harder to stomach: mass cullings, entire species wiped out in an effort to “contain” the virus. It wasn’t containment—it was genocide. And no amount of logic or scientific evidence seemed capable of swaying the powerful.

That’s when you met them: Abram, Angel, Marx, and Mitch.

It was Mitch who brought you into the fold. Another vet, he’d crossed paths with you at a conference months earlier. He’d been impressed by your passion and your willingness to push beyond the boundaries of traditional medicine.

“I heard what you said about Thanatos Syndrome,” he’d told you after one particularly heated panel discussion. “I’ve got some people you should meet.”

The group wasn’t what you’d expected. They called themselves the Gaian Vanguard, a small but determined collective of scientists, activists, and disillusioned ex-government workers who believed in fighting for the planet, even if it meant breaking the law.

Abram, the youngest, was a brilliant hacker with a knack for surveillance and information gathering. At just 24, he could slip into secure government servers like a ghost, pulling classified data that no one else could touch.

Angel, 25, was their strategist and the voice of reason. She’d once been a journalist, but after uncovering too much about the political cover-ups surrounding Thanatos Syndrome, she’d been blacklisted. Now, she used her investigative skills to expose the truth and rally support for their cause.

Marx, at 30, was the muscle. A former park ranger, he’d seen firsthand the devastation the virus had caused in the wild. He was rugged, resourceful, and fiercely protective of the team, though his gruff demeanor often clashed with the others’ idealism.

And Mitch, 29, was the team’s resident medic and fellow veterinarian. He’d seen enough suffering to last a lifetime and was determined to do more than patch up the wounded. He wanted to stop the bleeding at its source.

The first meeting was tense. You weren’t sure you belonged with them. Sure, you wanted to save the animals, to stop the senseless slaughter, but rebellion? Breaking laws? That wasn’t you.

“Look,” Abram had said, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence that belied his age. “You can keep sending reports to the people in power. Maybe one of them will read it before they sign off on the next mass culling. Or you can join us and actually do something.”

“He’s right,” Angel added, her sharp gaze piercing. “They don’t care about evidence, Y/n. They care about control. But we’ve got the truth on our side, and people are starting to listen.”

Marx, arms crossed, had just grunted. “We could use someone with your brain..”

Mitch had sigh deeply, his expression equal parts encouragement and challenge. “I can't examined every single animal that these creeps brings here to find a cure, so I need some backups. We’re not asking you to pick up a weapon. We’re asking you to use what you know—to fight for them in a way that actually matters.”

It wasn’t an easy decision. You’d spent so long believing that science was the answer, that knowledge and understanding could solve anything. But the wolf’s golden eyes flashed in your memory, and you thought about all the creatures who didn’t have the luxury of time.

“I’m in,” you’d said finally, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside you. “What’s the plan?”

Over the following weeks, you found your place within the team. Mitch became your closest ally, the two of you often working side by side on medical missions to treat infected animals or save those targeted by the government’s extermination squads. Abram taught you how to navigate encrypted systems, while Angel showed you how to craft narratives that could sway public opinion. Even Marx warmed to you eventually, though his approval came in the form of gruff nods and the occasional sarcastic remark.

The night of the event was suffocating—too many bodies packed into an opulent ballroom, too many self-satisfied grins from the people responsible for the mass slaughter of innocent creatures. The chandeliers overhead bathed the room in golden light, the clinking of champagne glasses and murmured conversation masking the rot beneath their polished exteriors.

You adjusted the sleek black dress Angel had insisted you wear, a necessary disguise to blend in with the elite. The fabric felt suffocating against your skin, but it was better than the alternative—arriving as you truly were, a threat to everything these people stood for.

Abram’s voice crackled in your earpiece. “We’re in position. You two ready?”

Across the room, Mitch, dressed in a sharp suit that didn’t quite hide the tension in his jaw, gave you a small nod. He was your partner for the night, both of you tasked with gathering intel from the inner circle while Angel and Marx handled… the more direct approach.

You forced a smile as a politician—Senator Clarke, one of the biggest advocates for mass animal extermination—approached, his eyes scanning you with barely concealed curiosity.

“You’re a new face,” he said, voice slick with false charm. “Who do you belong to?”

Your stomach churned, but you played the part. “is doctor, y/n,” you said smoothly, gesturing toward Mitch, who gave a tight-lipped smile. “Veterinarians working with government agencies to ensure ethical handling of the infected.”

The senator chuckled. “Ethical? There’s nothing ethical about this crisis, sweetheart. The only way to control it is to wipe out the threat entirely.”

Your fingers curled into fists, nails digging into your palm to keep your anger in check. Not yet. Stick to the plan.

Mitch placed a hand on your back, a subtle warning to stay calm. “That’s why we’re here, sir,” he said, ever the diplomat. “To discuss alternative solutions before drastic measures become the only option.”

Clarke seemed unimpressed, but before he could respond, the lights flickered. A hush spread through the ballroom.

Then the screams started.

Showtime.

Marx had breached the security room, cutting power to all but the emergency floodlights. Angel was already moving, a masked figure in the chaos, detonating small but effective smoke charges throughout the venue. The air filled with confusion and fear, high heels clacking against marble as guests scrambled for the exits.

You grabbed Clarke by the wrist, twisting it back with enough force to make him stumble. “You know what’s really unethical?” you hissed, dragging him toward the nearest service hallway. “Signing off on the deaths of creatures you don’t even try to understand.”

Mitch took out a guard who rushed toward you, expertly disarming him before knocking him unconscious. Abram’s voice filled your ear again. “Security’s mobilizing, you’ve got five minutes before the backup arrives.”

Clarke struggled, but Marx appeared from the shadows, a towering force of muscle and rage. “Move, or I break something,” he growled.

Angel was already in the security wing, extracting files from a government laptop. “We’ve got evidence of a classified biological project tied to Thanatos Syndrome,” she reported. “Looks like the virus isn’t just spreading naturally… they’ve been experimenting with it.”

Your blood ran cold. “They made it?”

Abram’s voice cut in. “It’s worse. They’ve been testing it on humans.”

You tightened your grip on Clarke, slamming him against the wall. “What the hell are you people doing?”

His lips curled into a smirk, despite the pain. “Trying to control nature before it controls us.”

You didn’t think—your fist connected with his jaw before he could say another word.

“Enough,” Angel’s voice cut through your fury. “We have what we need. Let’s go before we get slaughtered too.”

The team moved quickly, leaving behind a scene of wreckage and fear. The government would call it a terrorist attack. The media would spin the story. But none of that mattered—because you had the truth now.

And you were going to burn their entire operation to the ground.

The van rattled over the broken asphalt as you pressed ice against your bruised knuckles, staring out into the night. The city was alive with sirens, a chorus of emergency vehicles sweeping toward the wreckage your team had left behind. The operation had been messy, violent, and reckless—but it had worked.

“We need to lay low,” Angel muttered, voice tense as she reloaded her pistol before tucking it back into her jacket. “That was too loud.”

“We don’t lay low,” Marx grunted. “We hit harder.”

“Not tonight,” Mitch interjected. “We regroup first.”

That’s why you were heading toward the Stray Kids refuge.

Not many people knew about them. The world thought Stray Kids was just another resistance faction—one of the countless underground groups protesting against government tyranny. But those in the rebellion knew better.

They weren’t just a group. They were an ideal.

Made up of ex-military members, rogue scientists, hackers, and field operatives, Stray Kids had become the safe house for anyone fighting the political elite. And their leader? Han Jisung.

You knew of him before all of this. Everyone did. Once an idol, he had walked away from fame when the world started burning, disappearing into the underground where he and his members rebuilt themselves into something else. Something dangerous.“They’re expecting us,” Abram said, checking the messages on his modified tablet. “Felix said to use the back entrance.”

The van screeched to a stop in front of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The building was covered in graffiti, a mess of warnings, art, and messages of defiance. But one symbol stood out—a wolf painted in red, its eyes burning like fire.

Mitch glanced at you. “You good?”

You took a breath. You weren’t sure. The idea of meeting them—the idea that Jisung and his group might actually be able to help—felt unreal.

But you nodded. “Let’s go.”

Angel knocked twice on the rusted metal door before stepping back. Silence followed, then the sound of locks shifting. The door creaked open, and a figure stepped out—a sharp-eyed man with a scar running down his cheek. Bang Chan.

“Come inside,” he said simply, scanning each of you before stepping aside.

The warehouse was a carefully constructed safe house. Weapons were stacked in crates along the walls, computers and surveillance monitors flickering with incoming intelligence reports. People moved through the space like ghosts, their voices hushed but urgent.

Then, amidst the chaos, you saw him.

Jisung.

He was leaning against a desk, dressed in all black, his hair slightly tousled as he scanned through a set of blueprints. When he looked up and locked eyes with you, something unspoken passed between you.

Recognition?

Or just curiosity?

“You made a hell of a mess tonight,” Jisung finally said, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “I like it.”

Marx crossed his arms. “We got the files. We know the government is testing Thanatos Syndrome on humans.”

Jisung’s expression darkened, any trace of amusement vanishing. “Then you’re officially in deeper shit than before.”

“We need your help,” you said, stepping forward. “The politicians want to wipe out the infected, and now we know why. They’re covering their own tracks.”

Silence stretched between you. Then, Jisung sighed, rubbing a hand down his face before glancing at his members.

“What do you think, guys?” he asked.

Felix grinned. “I say we make some noise.”

Chan smirked. “I say we burn them down.”

Jisung looked back at you, and this time, his gaze was steady, unwavering.“Welcome to Stray Kids.”

It didn’t take long for Stray Kids to get to work.

Chan had a wall of intel—reports, surveillance footage, smuggled documents—that mapped out the government’s extermination plans. They weren’t just targeting infected animals. They were wiping out entire populations in "preventative measures."

“Zoos, sanctuaries, national parks,” Minho said, his tone cold and sharp. “They’re hitting them all. Any infected animals are being taken for ‘research,’ and the rest… slaughtered.”

You clenched your fists, stomach twisting with rage. “And the ones they’re taking?”

Jisung tapped on a folder, sliding it across the table toward you. “We found a transport schedule. They're being sent to underground research labs—places off the grid.”

Your eyes scanned the papers. “Lab 07—south of the city.”

“Unmarked, high-security,” Hyunjin added. “No records in public databases, which means they’re doing something nasty in there.”

“This is it,” Angel murmured. “This is what we need to expose them.”

Chan nodded. “We need to infiltrate, get footage, rescue what we can.”

“We’ll need a field team,” Marx said.

“You’ll have one,” Jisung replied. His eyes flickered toward you. “y/n? you in?” You met his gaze, surprised he was asking you directly. “I’m in,” you said, voice steady.

A slow smirk curved his lips. “Good.”

The facility loomed ahead, buried deep in a valley surrounded by electrified fences and armed guards. It looked like a research center on the surface, but the underground chambers were what mattered.

Jisung, Felix, and you moved through the shadows, using the cover of darkness to approach the loading dock. Your heart pounded as you watched through night-vision goggles—two trucks were parked outside, crates filled with something alive inside.

“They’re still here,” you whispered.

Jisung nodded. “Then we move fast.”

With Abram’s remote hacking, the security systems glitched long enough for Hyunjin and Seungmin to take out the nearest guards. Once the path was clear, you and Jisung slipped through the back entrance.

The stench of chemicals and blood hit you immediately. Animal cries echoed through the halls, a mix of fear and pain. Jisung’s jaw tightened. “We have to hurry.”

You navigated through the corridors, your heart sinking at the sight of the glass enclosures. Inside, animals trembled—wolves, big cats, even birds of prey, their bodies bearing signs of experimentation. Some had glowing eyes, others twitched unnaturally.

“This isn’t just Thanatos Syndrome,” you murmured. “They’re mutating them.”

Jisung’s fingers brushed yours as he moved closer, voice low. “We’ll get them out.”

You turned to him, searching his face. “You actually care about this.”

His expression softened slightly. “Of course, I do.” Before you could say more, alarms blared.

“Time’s up,” Felix called over comms.

Jisung grabbed your hand. “Come on.”

The two of you moved fast, working in sync as you unlocked cages. The animals were weak but still able to move, some stumbling toward the exit. Felix set up small charges to cover your escape—controlled detonations to create chaos without harming anything inside.

Gunfire erupted as guards stormed in, but Marx and Chan’s team intercepted them at the entrance. Jisung pulled you behind cover, shielding you from stray bullets before returning fire. “Remind me to never underestimate you,” you said breathlessly.

He grinned. “Smart girl.” With the team working together, you managed to clear a path. The moment the last crate was loaded onto the getaway truck, Jisung turned to you. “Let’s go.” As the explosions shook the lab behind you, the two of you ran, side by side, into the night.

Back at the safe house, the rescued animals were being treated. Mitch and the others worked tirelessly, tending to their wounds, while Chan and Angel sorted through the stolen data.

Jisung found you outside, leaning against the railing of the rooftop, watching the city lights.

“Tough night,” he said, handing you a bottle of water.

You took it with a small smile. “But worth it.” He nodded. Silence stretched between you, comfortable but charged. Then, he spoke again.

“You’re different from the others.”

You turned to him. “How so?”

He shrugged. “You don’t just want to fight. You want to fix things.”

You hesitated, then admitted, “I used to think science could fix everything.”

“And now?”

“Now, I think maybe people like you can.” Jisung’s gaze locked onto yours. For a moment, the war, the rebellion, the chaos—it all faded.

Then he grinned. “Careful, y/n. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t fighting this battle alone anymore.

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