#or should stick with other genres
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
So not naming names bc the author is an awesome person, and it’s probably just me not being familiar with romance tropes, but I’m reading this romcom marketed book with a goofy cover, premise and title, but it isn’t funny at all? I guess the protagonist thinks things are funny but the joke is always “isn’t it funny this guy is weird and doesn’t fit in?! He is so weird!” But like the guy is not particularly funny or even that weird. He is just blunt and awkward — if there wasn’t a fantasy trope going on I’d say he is just some flavor of neurodivergent or even a foreigner going through culture shock. And as a person who experienced both I relate to the dude but not the girl at all.
Are romcom novels not meant to be haha funny and have jokes? I’ve read social media posts by this author as well as some of her crackier fics and I find them hilarious and absurdist but her published novel just… isn’t? It’s more her standard coffee shop au vibe, which is fine but which I didn’t expect. Maybe my expectations for the genre are wrong? Not to mention all the mood boards on tumblr for the book are greyscale serious people, like the romance is just “these two people are hot”, not “they found romance because they shared a hilarious romp together.”
Am sad. Was hoping for more zanyness based on the premise. But who knows I’m only halfway through. Maybe it will come. It’s not a bad book just not for me.
But anyway if you have recs for books that are funny, fantastical and romantic I’d jump at a chance to read them. Goes without saying if you somehow know what book im talking about don’t tag the author or the book!)
But yeah, I guess I was expecting more zany situations and jokes that involve the other characters? Like clueless but with magical creatures.
#maybe I’m failing to understand romcoms#or should stick with other genres#there is also a lot of humor from awkwardness which is not my vibe
0 notes
Text
"Cherry Blossom" - I Met a Yeti, Andy Cizek
Genre(s): Swancore, Progressive Post-Hardcore
Length: 5:45
Tempo: 87 BPM
Key: G#/A♭ Minor
Lyrics (Genius Link)
#postnocus#lars song recs#<- song rec tag#if there is any other information yall think i should add lemme know (:#and please let me know if any songs or artists i share are generally considered problematic in some way;#i dont want to promote erm. interesting people to say the least#bc i dont deep dive into artists i listen to#i am also not very good at figuring out parent genres. so sometimes they miiiight be wrong? so i might stick with subgenres#anyways bye#Spotify
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Other shortcomings [in communicating science] are evident in television science fiction programming. Star Trek, for example, despite its charm and strong international and interspecies perspective, often ignores the most elementary scientific facts. The idea that Mr. Spock could be a cross between a human being and a life-form independently evolved on the planet Vulcan is genetically far less probable than a successful cross of a man and an artichoke… There must be dozens of alien species on various Star Trek TV series and movies. Almost all we spend any time with are minor variants of humans. This is driven by economic necessity, costing only an actor and a latex mask, but it flies in the face of the stochastic nature of the evolutionary process. If there are aliens, almost all of them I think will look devastatingly less human than Klingons and Romulans.”
- Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark
#brot posts#astro posting#god this entire book is just giving voice to so many things i think about like wtf hes even talking about the things i bitch about in scifi#albeit i feel like hes not being as lenient as he should be re: the economic limitations#as well as the technological limitations especially for TOS at the time#so like i understand there is a grounded reason as to why all the aliens are just. variants on humans#but like in an actual scifi way. its boring. its inaccurate#wheres the imagination#and im complaining about more than star trek here im also complaining about star wars#and all other scifi#and in that case when broadening it to the entire genre i will also say its not just finances and technology#but also just. lack of imagination.#so its not even really necessarily like a failure to communicate the theory of evolution to the public when creating scifi media#its just like. cost benefit analysis. weighing whether putting in the effort to make all these distinct independent species totally differe#different#is worth the time and money to design and implement#its easier in a media production sense to just stick some funky ears on a human person and call it another species#BUT YKNOW. it is still something i find annoying and something i do bitch about so im so glad Mr Sagan is also bitching about it
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dae-ho headcanons | (NSFW)
Pairing: Kang Dae-ho (player 388) x Fem!reader
Genre: headcanons, smut
Warning: uhh daehho is rlly needy, kinda sub dae ho, idk TBH he's too normal for warnings LOL,
A/N: not proof read. I tried my best:( I'm used to writing darker stories with elements of dub/noncon, manipulation, etc..so hopefully I did his good personality justice.
kang dae ho, the man couldn't keep his eyes away from you the second he caught a glance of you. his eyes following your every move inside the room that everyone had just woken up in.
kang dae ho, the man that blushes like he had just been caught doing the dirtiest thing on earth (staring at you). getting somehow redder when you giggle at his 'confidence' crumble like a failed sand castle.
kang dae ho, the man that cant believe his eyes when you stand up from yourself and your group against men that were clearly bigger than you. showing immense confidence even when you could easily be overpowered.
kang dae ho, the man that always finds his gazes linger a little longer than they should. watching you closely when you stretch, feeling himself get hard at the sight of your stomach peeking past the shirt and soft noise you make when you stretch.
kang dae ho, the man that invites you to his team after the second round. finding you all alone after your teammates left you to die to form their group and getting fatally shot during it.
kang dae ho, the man that offers his milk to you. telling you that its "no big deal" with a shrug. even if he goes a little more hungry than usual.
kang dae ho, the man that will look at you for approval of something he just did. giving himself an internal fist bump when you tell him he did great.
kang dae ho, the man that will slip his hands into his pants and get himself off while he watches your sleeping form. he just thinks you look too gorgeous while the lights of the x and o illuminate off your face and rest of your body.
kang dae ho, the man that feels so bad for imagining what your delicate body looks under your clothes .. but cant help it when you just look so hot
kang dae ho, the man that will sneak into your bed at the middle of the night and cuddle you... feeling himself get a hard on at the feeling of your soft skin under his arms
kang dae ho, the man that will slowly start rutting into you in the middle of the night. waking you up surprised but not upset.. his moans and whines filling your ears to the brim
kand dae ho, the man that will fondle your tits n make out with you like a feral dog. as if you were his first girlfriend since 8th grade.
kang dae ho, the man that will cover his whines and moans with his hands while your jerk him off under the thin covers. trying his best not to make too much noise and wake anyone up..but there was probably that heard him either way.
kang dae ho, the man that will lick his fingers after you came all over them like a starving animal. savoring every drop of it that he can pick up with his digits.
kang dae ho, the man that decided to join the shoot out with the other guards in hopes it could get you out of this mess. even if you begged him not to go.
kang dae ho, the man that felt nothing but relief and warmth when you hugged him and held him in your gentle arms when he had a panic attack and couldn't get himself to go back
kang dae ho, the man that want nothing more but to spend the rest of his life with you.
A/N: this was rlly rushed n lazily made, I'm sorry :( I was out all day so I didn't find time to finish/continue my long fic but I still wanted to make something T T I think I might just stick to writing for characters that would more likely do darker things, I felt this was too boring :// sorry...
TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf
#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game 2#squid game fanfic#fanfic#x reader#squid game smut#squid game x y/n#ᡣ𐭩 saymio#kang dae ho#kang dae ho x reader#dae ho squid game#player 388#dae ho x reader#squid game s2#smut#kang daeho#daeho x reader#player 388 x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !
⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)
𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧
You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.
“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”
Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.
The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”
You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.
He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧
“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.
“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”
“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.
“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.
He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧
“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”
“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.
“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”
Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?
“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.
Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧
The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.
Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.
Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest.
“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.
He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.
“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”
You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”
He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.”
You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.
“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”
That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.
So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.
“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”
You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.
When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.
Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”
Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone.
That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.
“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.
You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.
As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.
Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.
“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”
He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.
“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”
He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!”
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
SHE’S MINE | 00
CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series
word count ┊ 798
author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!
prev. | next
SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.
He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you.
It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right.
“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”
Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…
…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next.
“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?”
Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?”
“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…”
“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining.
The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up.
“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”
Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours.
He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”
reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
#✎ maxi’s works#ultraman#ultraman: rising#ken sato#kenji sato#ken sato x you#kenji sato x you#ultraman x reader#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#ken sato fluff#kenji sato smut#kenji sato fluff#ken sato smut#fake dating#fake marriage#fluff#smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
I think it's an interesting choice that they gave her those red shoes that stand out so loudly against the rest of her outfit. To me it could read as a bit of a Dorothy from Wizard of Oz thing, which might inform her character somewhat. A friendly rural girl that easily makes friends with different people without judgement, and is well suited for an adventure.
(It would also be symbolically fitting HoD's queer-coding, bc Dorothy is one of the original Queer Icons, and "Friends of Dorothy" specifically was a code phrase to refer to queer people).
But also, it honestly looks like she's wearing riding boots. That's not the outfit you would ride a horse in, but those aren't the shoes for light indoor activities either. They're not even particularly feminine for the time period. She's kind of wearing the equivalent of a floral dress with combat boots, so a somewhat tomboyish reading of her character doesn't seem very far-fetched!
Iirc, Lydie also made Juste and Maxim's friendship bracelets, but didn't make one for herself, which is also a potentially interesting insight into how she feels. Especially because that isn't necessarily how Maxim always saw things, if his insecurities were anything to go by. Or even how Juste might have seen things, given the different endings.
She's also younger than Juste and Maxim by a couple years, and the true ending always gave me the impression she's used to mediating arguments between them and breaking up fights, lol. Her sprite directly stands between them with her arms out like she's refereeing velociraptors. Which takes a lot of guts and/or trust to get directly between two heavily armed people who are also a wizard and a ninja respectively. And they listen to her!
An idea that won't leave my head is that Lydie is an excitable tomboy.
Think about it. Lydie, who in appearance is a frilly delicate girl, has two boys as her best friends. Two rough warrior boys, at that. How did she become part of the group? Surely she does more than just sitting demurely as they spar?
I like to think that Lydie is actually kind of reckless and likes to play danerous games. She's the kind of girl that would ruin her skirt climbing up trees or jumping on stones to cross a river. She causes a lot of headaches for her family, who want her to act proper, and this may be why she loves to spend time with her friends, who don't care if she is improper because they just like her as she is. I don't think she is that big of a rebel, because she still looks like someone who takes care of her appearance (the hair alone requires careful styling), so she might play coy with her family and be on her best behavior... until tempted by her besties.
Generally speaking, if I were to write Lydie, I think I'd move away from the "gentle" archetype and make her a ball of energy lol. The kind of person who is constantly fidgeting, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands because she just can't wait to spend more time with her favorite people in the world!
I could also take this artwork as proof that she likes nature and animals. She doesn't have the innate talents of a witch or a Devil Forgemaster, sadly lol. She just tries her best even if she gets her fingers picked at or bitten.
Also, we know that after Simon's victory, the Belmonts became heroes of the land, and a whole village was built around them. Juste, most likely, didn't grow up shunned for his bloodline. But! He was still born different. Frail, pale, and with strange magic potential. While discrimination due to magic is not as intense at this point in time as it was in centuries past, it's possible Juste was surrounded by rumors, perhaps even doubted as a worthy successor of his grandfather. You know, for that nice family legacy stuff :)
The point is, I think Lydie never cared. Along with Maxim, who gets to experience for himself how strong and driven Juste is, Lydie might have been the first person to not treat Juste like the latest Belmont with all that comes with it, but as a boy worth of befriending. Lydie got to know Juste's various quirks, like his stubborness, or his fastidiousness when it comes to fashion and decor (I bet they joked that she could learn from him lol), and decided he was funny and that's how a friendship started.
Oh, and the wiki suggests that her surname hints at her ethnicity being Transylvanian Saxon or Banat Swabian. I think it's pretty cool and it could influence her in some way.
I need to think of more quirks to give to her. But I really would like to flesh her out a bit because she has potential to be interesting :>
#My best friend once drew two stick figures of me and our mutual other bestie strangling each other in my grammar workbook#While explaining to us both how exhausting we are to deal with and we should argue less for her sanity lol#This experience informs how I interpreted their group dynamic somewhat#I think Lydie's actual writing is squarely in the “girl that mainly exists to further the relationship between two men” archetype#Which has a lot of interesting commentary in other Japanese works at this point#Because while it grew out of damsel in distress and love triangle writing it's also foundational to the bl genre#(bc it's one of the *easiest* ways to smuggle homoeroticism into a plot under the guise of something straight)#So it's at a weird intersection of women being written without agency *and* frequent female fantasy#(See CLAMP works they love this trope a lot)#Lydie is uniquely lacking in characterization not just bc HoD isn't interested in her as a love interest#but bc it's also not that interested in her as a *sacrifice*. Hence her not being martyred like most characters in her archetype#She lives in most endings and is thus absent a big reason her archetype usually exists!#Which frees her from this narrative overall! But also still leaves her kinda flat and lacking in plot agency anyways#Imo the worst thing the game does is inexplicably reward Juste with her affection for completing the interior decorating sidequest#I feel like using her as arm candy for the player in particular was much more sexist than her just being out of focus
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader
SUMMARY ~ riding riki's abs cuz he's too damn hot doing crunches.
GENRE ~ smut, pwop(?).
WORD COUNT ~ 1.302k
ᯓ★ love the banner for this ngl. not my best work:( but it was requested so here
visiting your boyfriend's apartment to be met with the sight of him shirtless, doing crunches in his room was definitely a welcome you'd want to see more often.
you'd blame ovulation, but something about seeing the beads of sweat dripping down the pattern of his abs made you feel a certain tingle in a place sinfully up between your legs.
with a cool facade, you flashed a soft smile, settling your bag down in its usual place and unwrapping the winter layers you had on. “working hard, huh, riki?” you teased, but it was mostly just a mere attempt of hiding and distracting yourself from your fluster and desires.
"mm." he responded with the short, low hum that you couldn't decipher as a yes or a no. his breath came out in rhythmic puffs, hands clasping each other as he pushed himself up and down. he wasn't exactly talkative when he was 'in the zone', but the hint of a smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at you. "you're just on time. i was getting lonely." his little complaint earned a mostly playful scoff from you. “geez, i was gone for one hour because somebody refuses to be a grown up and get their own groceries.”
having had familiarity with his bedroom, you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed beside where he was on the floor without having to look up.
he groaned as he sat up, rolling his head from side to side to ease the strain in his neck, flexing his abdominal muscles by accident as he did. "mm. i hate grocery shopping." he retorted back quickly, his eyes settling on you. his gaze was intense, filled with a bit of annoyance and something else, something that you knew from experience would lead to your clothes being tossed to the floor in a messy pile.
with his new position, came the delicious little sight of his sweaty strands of overgrown bangs sticking to his forehead, his glistening flexed muscles and the naturally prominent tent in his gray sweats.
you cleared your throat, ‘discreetly’ looking back up at his eyes.
“you’re just too childish.” you countered, ending your sentence by hypocritically sticking out your tongue in a childish manner.
he rolled his eyes at that, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he rose to his feet, taking slow and deliberate strides towards you. he towered over you, forcing you to look up in his eyes as he stepped between your legs, pinning you against the edge of the bed with his arms on either side. "mm, really." he chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising. "keep sticking your tongue out like that and i'll find a better use for it."
oh, he knew what he was doing. you swallowed thickly at the implications of his words, but scoffed sassily. but god, his abs were right there, in front of your face, glistening in a way that made you wish it was something other than his sweat.
“whatever. you’re sweaty and stinky, go take a shower.” it was a lame excuse, but at that point you’d try every bit you could to escape the situation.
riki chuckled again, amused at your attempt to keep him from sensing how his very presence was already making you want to throw your clothes off. he leaned in close, so that his nose was practically grazing yours. "that doesn't sound like the nicest thing you could say to your boyfriend who's been working so hard in the hot summer heat, now does it?" he teased back, a smirk on his lips and an obvious mischief in his eyes.
“and what do you think is the nicest thing i should say to my oh-so hardworking boyfriend?” you immediately snapped back, an edge of annoyance forming in your tone, thanks to his teasing.
he was absolutely infuriating, and all while looking so damn sexy that it drove you crazy in all the best ways.
he chuckled again, enjoying the smartassery you continued to try and push past his guard. riki pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you a response. "something... less rude." he stated simply, his hands gripping the edge of the bed now, caging you in. "like... i don't know, like…” he leaned in close to your ear, his body gently pressing itself against yours. "i think it should've been more along the lines of 'oh my handsome boyfriend, you're working so hard. let me help you relax~'"
you let out a scoff-like chuckle. he was really pushing it out of cockiness of having the upper hand and your admiring gaze here, wasn’t he? “self-indulgent much?” "damn right." he shamelessly said, his voice dropping an octave, eyes locking onto yours. "very." the smirk on his face curled into a half-smirk, his hot breath tickling your skin. his hips pushed against yours, his hands still on either side. "i want to be a little selfish right now."
you hummed, spreading your legs wider to incorporate his larger frame. with the decision to indulge in his little game, you questioned, “selfish how, hm?”
riki's smirk only widened as he settled between your legs, a hand gently taking your chin and forcing your gaze to remain locked on his. "in a lot of ways." he responded, his other hand gently gripping your thigh. "one of them being a nice reward for working so damn hard."
“i have a different proposition.” you suddenly interrupted, your tone one he couldn’t recognize. without giving him time to reply, you continued, “i have a very selfish desire, myself.”
his smirk widened again, his head inching closer like a lion nearing his prey. his eyes had a fire burning behind them, a sort of intense desire that you knew only led somewhere hot and messy. "oh yeah?" he responded, that hand that was gripping your thigh running up a bit. "and what's this 'very selfish' desire of yours?"
one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew- you were sitting on riki's muscular abdomen, hands on his chest as you coated his abs with your slick.
his hands moved to grip your hip instead, digging his nails in as guided your movements against his flexed muscles. he wore a lazy smirk on his lips, bringing one of his hands to make circular motions on your clit.
“fuck..” you cried out in pleasure, frantically riding on his abs like your life depended on it.
“you feel good baby? don’t even need my cock to get off anymore.. greedy baby.” he basically purred into your ear, continuing to rub your clit with his calloused thumb.
the pretty whimpers and gasps escaping your lips were like music to his ear, you were clearly too delirious to take offense to his teases, let alone come up with a reply. your pussy pulsated on his abs as a clear sign of approaching your orgasm, and it only encouraged him to further guide your hips and rub you.
“riki..” you mewled in utter glee, your hips jerking forth involuntarily ever so often.
“yes, baby? you close? gonna cum on my abs?” he teased, his voice ringing low and deep in your senses.
you gripped onto his chest just a little harder, the knot in your stomach breaking apart with a lewd moan. you stilled your hips as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm, your ejaculation now coating his proud muscles.
he groaned at the wet warmth of it, now gripping onto your hips in a way that made his own needs evident. “that was fucking hot..” he commented, making you return back to earth from your high and hide your face in the crook of his neck out of post-nut embarrassment.
“shut up..” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗
#enhypen#enhypen fanfic#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#enhypen fluff#enhypen riki#ni-ki#enhypen niki#riki enhypen#niki enhypen#enhypen ni-ki#ni-ki enhypen#niki x reader#riki x reader#riki smut#niki fluff#riki fluff#niki scenarios#riki scenarios#niki imagine#riki imagine#fanfic#imagine#nishimura riki#enhypen nishimura riki#nishimura riki smut#nishimura riki fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
north star ❀ s. reid x reader
in which you're up late doing an assignment, and spencer reid has a nightmare.
pairing: spencer reid x uni student!reader genre: comfort tags: post prison reid. & his trauma. & his fears. casual nudity (showering together). hurt/angst but its secondhand. which is what we call empathy... yes... reader mentioned being hurt in a nightmare. word count: 2.3k a/n: i got a request recently with a similar sort of premise to this, so while it isn't exact this is indeed for you... north star is one of my all time favourite searows songs. here's to being spencer reid's north star. and also a university student awake at 4am.
Spencer Reid had not slept in his own bed in three weeks.
The couch in the centre of his apartment had become a constant pile of blankets and pillows, a — probably permanent — indent of his body pressed into the cushions. The coffee table a littering of books he had read through, contact solution, and, when he wasn't reading, his glasses. Always.
You had gotten used to sleeping alone in an apartment somebody else was residing in after the first few days, leaving the bedroom door open so you could hear the sound of pages of a book turning, and faintly see the silhouette of your boyfriend out in the living room. It was comforting enough that it willed you to sleep, though the longing for him to be beside you never dulled.
Tonight was no different. In fact, the only slight change from your usual routine, was the fact that you were the one still awake, and he was fast asleep. Albeit, it was four in the morning, and you most certainly should not be up.
Your face was illuminated uncomfortably by the blue light of your laptop, a knee beneath your chin as you stared blankly at the half written essay in front of you. You were tired, and all you wanted was to be in bed. Unfortunately, your university had the worst deadlines imaginable, and three o'clock in the afternoon was creeping up on you and this unfinished assignment fast.
Your head lifted at the sound of blankets rustling, expecting to be met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping Spencer Reid. Instead, he was sat upright, blanket covering his silhouette, though not hiding the heaving of his chest; the rise and fall of his shoulders.
"Spence?" you called out from his desk that you were currently residing at, still slightly unsure if he was actually awake — he had sleep walked one of the earlier nights.
He didn't respond. You watched as he hunched over, and you could make out the action of his fingers burying in his hair.
Assignment be damned, you pushed the wheelie chair back and stood up, hands fidgeting with one another as you headed over to the couch.
"Spencer?" you said his name again as you hesitantly got closer, not wanting to startle him too much if he was about to start sleep walking.
His head lifted, and you felt your heart slow in relief when his eyes met yours. Short lived relief, however, for the soft glow of the lamp across the room illuminated him just enough for you to catch the glassiness in his eyes, the sticking of his hair to his forehead from sweat, and the frightened look on his face.
"Hey," you greeted, quietly, one step after the other carrying you over to him, and you crouched down in front of the couch.
"Nightmare," he muttered, simply, voice hoarse.
"Ah," you nodded in recognition, hands flexing by your side with the need to touch him. "You wanna talk about it?"
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but you didn't press any further for a response as he zoned out on the coffee table behind you for a few moments. When his gaze finally landed back on you, he stared blankly at your face, finding the words inside his brain.
"They hurt you," he managed to choke out successfully, voice heavy with whatever was lodged in his throat.
You didn't have to ask who they were, your eyes flickering in acknowledgement of what he was telling you. "They can't," you settled on saying.
"I know," was his response, eyes dropping to his lap, the blanket falling from his shoulders as his posture hunched over even more. "But they did. And I couldn't do anything about it."
You despised being speechless in front of him. The silence layering over the two of you in a dimly lit room, a heavy blanket translating your lack of words for what he was going through. He always knew what to say to you, and yet, Spencer Reid being traumatised from prison was a concept you could never seem to grasp no matter how hard you tried. Not fully, at least. What on Earth is there to say to somebody who was having nightmares like this? What comfort could you provide?
You hesitated, then reached out, clasping one of his hands within your own, bringing it to your face. Every action was cautious on his end, but you managed to splay his fingers across your cheek, palm resting against the skin. Gently, for despite everything that had changed about Spencer in prison, his gentleness for you had not.
"I'm okay," you whispered to him, and it was then that he registered what you were trying to do.
He carried more weight in his hand, committing the feeling of your warm, active skin to memory. His fingers stretched and found the pulse of your neck, for no reason other than to feel it beat against the tip of them. It was minutes of sitting in this silence, his eyes firmly shut, while yours studied his face. Every parting of his lips, every irregular breath he took in and exhaled, every slight twitch in his eyebrow. Everything.
When he finally opened his eyes, breathing a little less erratic and gaze a lot less afraid, you spoke. "Shower?"
Wordlessly he nodded his head, and allowed you to lift him to his feet, trudging after you with short steps, that you waited for patiently.
It had taken a week for Spencer to shower again upon coming home. And since then, you had needed to be there for every single one. A stark contrast to the man who isolated himself much more now — needing to be able to see you as he showered. He never explained it, but you sort of knew why.
He stripped of his shirt at the same time as you, his torso no longer the palette of purple and yellow it had been weeks ago. Which should be comforting to you. And yet, as his bruises faded, so did his already dampened spark. The excitement of coming home wearing off, as he was forced to face everything he had endured for a quarter of a year.
And you tried not to hold it against him, or even be upset about it. It is not his fault existing everyday has become an uphill battle, and it certainly isn't his fault he's horrified of seemingly normal things. But you missed him. It. The light of the man you fell in love with.
The two of you stepped into the shower, in silence, once you had rid yourselves of your clothes, and despite the cold air nipping at your bare skin, you let him stand under the water for as long as he needed to. Visibly watching him sink further into his skeleton, shoulders drooping. He reached for you, hesitantly, and you allowed him to decide where to place his hands. Eventually, one looped around your waist and pressed against the small of your back to step closer to him, the outer water droplets from the showerhead spraying uncomfortably onto your face. Your face scrunched, and your head jerked back, and his lips pulled into a frown.
"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping back, and your heart sank at the frown on his lips.
"It's okay," you answered, voice soft. "Can I wash your hair?"
"Yes," he confirmed with a nod, ducking his head down when you reached for shampoo.
Shaking, your fingers worked lathered shampoo through his hair. Your heart sank at the sight of him, for his shoulders were tensing with every stroke of your fingertips against his scalp.
"You're stuck in your head," you observed, guiding his head back under the water to rinse the soap out of his locks.
"Mm," was all he replied with.
"How can I get you out of it?"
"I can't even get myself out of it," he mumbled.
You don't know what to say. Again. There's only so much you can say to him when he's like this, and even then, most of the time he won't listen. Too overwhelmed with the flashing images of you hurt, usually, the screaming guilt in his brain.
"I'm not hurt, Spence," you decided to tell him instead.
"I know," he responded, voice pleading, though you knew he wasn't pleading with you. "But I can't get the image of you like that out of my mind."
You fell silent. Again.
"Sorry," he repeated, his apologising incessant. Though, you knew better than to tell him not to apologise anymore.
Instead, while your fingers worked conditioner through the ends of his hair, you brought up another idea. "How about we go to the roof?"
"It's four in the morning," he murmured.
"Like that's ever stopped you from doing anything ever," you huffed, and his lips twitched.
"It'll be cold," he argued, watching your shoulders deflate with his second denial of the idea. His own heart dropped. "Yeah, okay. We can go to the roof."
"We don't have to," you said, guiding his head back under the water. "Not if you don't want to."
"I just don't want you to get sick," he replied.
"Don't worry about me."
"I do."
You knew that. It was his constant worry for your wellbeing that led you to these moments.
"Come on."
Stepping out of the shower, you handed him the first towel, wrapping one around yourself afterwards. You picked up both toothbrushes and gave him one of them, leaning against the edge of the sink.
Every movement he now completed was calculated. Hesitant. He was almost completely stationary as he brushed his teeth, if not for the slight shake in his arm with each stroke. But he was staring at you, and it was the kindness in his eyes that kept your heart from falling apart in front of him.
By the time you had reached the roof, he was a little more conversational, even smiling at your attempt at a joke (though, you were pretty sure that wasn't very genuine).
"Come here," you said, holding your arms out in front of you, walking backwards. He caught up to you, clasping your hands within his own, movement akin to a rag doll as you tugged him closer.
"No," he protested when you placed his hands on your waist, clocking precisely what you were doing with him within seconds.
"Yes," you argued, encircling your arms around his neck. "Humour me for a bit."
"I thought we were looking at the stars."
"You thought wrong."
Despite himself and his disdainful grumbling, he let you sway your two bodies, a silent dance amongst the distant, quiet hum of car engines.
"I don't like dancing," he said, after a few long minutes.
"I know."
"So why did you take me up here to dance?"
The sharp sentences had become a staple in Spencer Reid's speech, though usually unintentional, and usually going unnoticed by him. They still hurt.
"Because," you began, forcing your eyes to fixate on his face, and not the scattering of stars and silhouettes of buildings you could see stretched out behind him. "You're thinking about how much you don't like dancing."
"Yes. I am."
You stilled your bodies and stared at him for a few beats, expectantly, until it rolled over in his brain, and he realised what you were doing. You had, successfully, distracted him from the nightmare.
He didn't say anything more, but his eyes had softened, and you knew from that he was thankful. Silent communication had become your shared best friend with Spencer.
"I don't know how to stop them," he mumbled, head bowing and unkempt curls covered his face, that you were quick to brush back, hands resting on either side of his jawline. "The nightmares."
"I don't know either," you answered, hating the sound of the words coming out of your mouth. You despised not having all the answers for him, like he probably would for you. "Therapy, I guess."
"I've been doing therapy. Everyday. It isn't helping."
"You've been home less than a month."
"But it isn't getting any better."
Your chest ached, meeting his gaze once again as he snapped his head up on his words. Uncomfortable desperation dressed his face, and it was as though he was crumbling right there in front of you — your hands unable to pick up the shattered pieces quick enough.
You hadn't dealt with a trauma wound this bad, this fresh, ever. You weren't equipped for that. A university assignment, that sat incomplete in a softly lit apartment, for a degree you were yet to claim, proved that. Spencer knew that. He knew you wouldn't have the answers he needed; they were answers even he didn't have.
"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "This isn't fair on you."
No, it wasn't. And you don't want to imagine how you would be in his position instead, but you were pretty sure you'd be just as bad, if not worse.
"Please don't apologise for feeling things," you decided to say instead. "You're allowed to feel things."
"I've been horrible."
"You've been human."
He fell silent at that, and when you were sure he didn't have any other incessant apologies or heartbreaking discoveries to drop on you at — what was now probably — five o'clock in the morning, you offered him your arms. Arms he took, and arms he allowed to wrap him up in an embrace you wanted to die with.
Silence communicated words you couldn't say to one another. Echoing I love you's ricocheted around in your brain, and you hoped they did in his too.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x reader comfort#spencer reid fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
﴾ wild side
pairing: gang leader!bangchan x f!reader
genre: one-shot, mafia au, smut
word count: 11,8K
warnings: minor violence ⋆ blood and weapons ⋆ reader works as a waitress in a strip club⋆ dom!chris and sub!reader ⋆ lap dancing! ⋆ oral (m.receiving) ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!
summary: one night, while you were making your way home after work, you came across something you shouldn’t have seen and even if you run away, there was no way for you to escape the man with the scar across his face
──────────────────────
Someday you think, you will give up. Everything hurt — your arms, legs and mostly your head. It pulsated with every step you took and you silently prayed that you wouldn’t end up passed out on the cold, wet ground. You huffed, completely exhausted, but as you imagined yourself scrubbed clean and snuggled in your comfy bed, it kind of helped keep you motivated.
You wondered how long it would take before you just decided not to work anymore. It wasn’t like the job is bad or anything, quite the opposite. You get handsomely paid and that wasn’t a surprise. You work as a waitress at one of the most popular strip club in the city. You slept through the day, waking up late to get ready for your night shift. Every day you had to smile and giggle at the most gross and creepy men in hopes they would tip you more. But you can’t say anything to that. You have nothing to whine about and also you really liked it there. Pretty interior, good music and shows — maybe it's just your distaste for life at the moment.
Your naked feet dance across the ground, heels in your hand and you do hate yourself for forgetting about your other shoes. You did left your apartment quite in hurry. As well as now. It wasn’t the fact that walking on the ground made you literally shiver in disgust, it was mostly because you were starting to get highly aware of your position right now.
The early hours of morning are probably the most dangerous in this city. When you decided to live here, you didn’t look much into the history of the city. However every luxury and dreamlike city comes with secrets. The streets were still dark, quiet and cold, your hair sticking to your skin slightly from the humidity. You had to press your arms around your chest a little tighter when you hear a small noise behind you. You at that moment realized how unarmed you were. Cold, shivering in your skirt and light jacket, alone — you can’t help, but feel frightened a little.
This city was known for its crime, but being also so charming it makes all the tourist, just like you, blind enough not to see the danger it truly holds. Your head whipped around to look behind you. Nothing. Though you do pick up your pace, hissing at the small stones digging into your feet. Your droopy eyes flickered over the seemingly empty streets, few lamps lighting your path. You wanted nothing more than be in your apartment already as you started to feel not so alone anymore when another unexpected noise is heard.
A clinking of a glass bottle echoes around you. It was probably just a stray animal or something, but your heart still skipped a beat. You turned back around to look before you, but your eyes stopped at the well known open, alley next to you. It was a short cut, however you only took it at day when it seemed way more safe. The way the darkness almost seemed to pull you into it made you uncomfortable. You knew that you should never take a dark alley so late, even if you heard noise on the other end of the street. Something about it just screamed danger, yet it also called out to you and you knew how much time it would safe you by going that way — so you did.
Turning around the corner you couldn’t help, but look around your surroundings. Still nothing. It still scared you just a little, because you can never know, but just standing on the same spot won’t help you either. Sighing you walked further into the dark alleyway, grumbling just a little when you walked into small puddle. You really couldn’t afford being sick, another thing that made you go just a little faster. For being the city of crime at night, the rent prices really weren’t that low. You of course asked yourself if maybe moving away would be better, but you never knew that working at a strip club would make you meet the most important people in your life right now. You were just a runaway and all of them invited you with open arms. District 9 was also a city of outcasts — just like you.
Your nails dig into your jacket, piercing your skin almost from the way the pathway before you became completely dark. The only thing helping you see was the Moon and looking up, you for a second became blinded by its beauty. Cold kissed your cheeks, nose runny and your eyes slightly glossed over. Your dreamlike state didn’t last for very long, just like your sanity as you heard a very loud sound from somewhere near you.
You immediately jumped, body freezing. Your eyes widened, maybe to see better and when you heard the same noise once again you let out a small sigh of fright. However as the sound traveled to your senses, you quickly realized it was just a sound of car’s door closing. You almost wanted to laugh at yourself. Your paranoia still lingered when you looked into the direction of the sound and you fight back a shiver as it is the same way you must take to get home. You for a second wondered if there was maybe another way, but you knew that at the end, few blocks away was your warm, cozy home.
Taking a few, slow steps forward, your cold feet dragged across the ground for a second, thinking. Your ears were on high alert, eyes unfocused as it would help you hear better. Nothing, but was it really? Your hand gripping the string of your purse traveled down to open it. Fishing through it, your movements frantic, trying to find your choice of weapon. Even if your bag was rather small it got messy really fast. Before you could panic any longer your fingers finally grazed over the plastic, pulling it out quickly, your index finger immediately finding the dip at the top of the pepper spray. You kept it for years and you prayed that you won’t have to use it any time soon. You also wondered if it was still useable, but there’s only one way to found out.
The alley became less narrow the further you went, just like you remembered. You found a safe spot next to a brick wall, away from the warehouse next to you, hand dragging across the stone. You never liked that place. It was damned to be demolition and you always came across few pieces of stones falling from the walls. It seemed like a big hazard to you, but for some reason no one wanted to take it down.
As you were almost half way through the alley a flash of light flickered on the ground. You stopped in your tracks when it fell on the ground right before you, but just before it disappeared you followed it with your eyes. It flashed right before you then it traveled to the brick wall and when you turned around you realized it was coming from the building right next to you. It came from the inside, because from what you could see, it disappeared right when it hit a wall next to one of the broken windows. You couldn’t help but frown in confusion, head tilting down to maybe see inside what seemed like the basement window.
Maybe it was just some kids messing around, but when you decided to continue your walk home something stopped you. A loud sound pierced your ears, making you let out a small gasp, grasping your chest. However your noise was small compared to the short painful scream that came right after. You froze, breathing heavily, grasping your pepper spray in death grip. Turning once again you turned to the direction of the small window and from this angle you could finally see inside.
You didn’t know why you didn’t just run away as it was not worth it, but what if somebody was in danger. You probably wouldn’t be able to sleep with the guilt if you would see something in news later. You glanced back to the direction of your home and back to the window. You are troubled and just a little bit terrified. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were never good at making decisions, so you only walked closer.
And with careful steps, trying to be as quiet as possible at this hour. You bend in the knees, falling almost when the light shined yet again, but it thankfully wasn’t in your direction. You leaned closer with your free hand on the wall, lowering yourself on your knees. You fought back the disgust when your skin touched the dirty, cold ground, centering your attention on the light instead. You again followed it, watching how it was put down on something.
Your lips parted in shock, because as soon as the light was put down, the light beam hit a person rolling on the floor in agony. Then two feet dressed in fine, polished shoes stepped into the direction of the person. Their footsteps squeaked, shuffling closer and closer to the injured man. The one standing had their back turned to you, like the one on the ground, but just as you wondered what happened to the person they rolled over onto their back. Your hand immediately fell to your mouth, silencing your gasp at the sight.
Blood was everywhere on the man’s face. His hand put pressure onto his bleeding eye, but even with that he couldn’t stop the liquid from flowing out. Your legs shook and even with your fright you could still hear the words from the man standing. “Tell me their names.” The voice is low and rough. The demand meant for the injured man is only answered in series of pleas.
You were in state of shock, completely frozen in your spot. You couldn’t even breathe at that moment, watching with wide eyes as the standing man crouched down to his level. You could only see the back of his head full of dark hair, his wide shoulders caging the trembling man who raised his hands in surrender. However it didn’t seem like that man was moved by his apologies. You should’ve ran before it was too late, but how? You didn’t know what to do. Nothing, there was nothing for you to do to help that poor man as the man before him mumbled something that made the other scream in terror.
Your mouth fell wide open as when man with wide shoulders stood up again, holding out his hand. Another person which you didn’t see till then handed him a weapon — a gun. Your eyes filled with tears, because you would probably see the most gruesome sight in your life. Your breathing picked up, heart beating so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest. You couldn’t…you couldn’t look further as the dark haired man pointed the gun at the man who shook like a leaf. And then you did a very stupid thing…
You went to move away from the window, but your hand on the wall slipped, making your foot drag forward. A gasp that came from your lips was louder than the man’s cries, but not the stones rolling down from the window, landing right next to the man’s feet. You were immediately blinded by light shining into your face and you thought you almost died out of fear itself at that moment when the man turns to you.
The first thing you noticed about him was the large scar running across his face, starting from his eyebrow and ending at his chiseled jaw. His full lips were pulled into a scowl, brown eyes glaring right into yours. You felt like at the brink of fainting, because you immediately recognized him. His face was all over the news, only a sketch, but everyone knew about the man with a scar. Bangchan was his name. The most dangerous man of the whole city, a leader of an underground gang that is known for haunting these streets at night.
His whole demeanor screamed danger and hearing his voice once again, it did activated your fight or flight instinct. “Get her.” It came out cold and unemotional. His voice made your whole body vibrate, eyes falling to the gun still in his hand, but he did not make a move to raise it to your head. Instead you only heard heavy, quick footsteps and before you finally jumped away from the window, you saw three dark figures moving in the shadows — right into the direction of the side entrance to the warehouse, just where you were.
You knew you should never run to your home when someone was chasing you, but you had better chance at making it home than running back. You rised to your feet, not even thinking twice and running out of the aisle. Your legs immediately quivered at your sudden moves, feeling your muscles scream. Stumbling slightly, you almost slipped as you round the corner, running out of the alley just as you heard the sound of heavy metal doors slamming against a wall.
From the brute force you swear it vibrated in your bones. In your runaway plan you didn’t even realize you left your heels behind, but they were not going to help you anyway. You already had hard time using your legs, bare feet feeling like they would crumble at any moment. You couldn’t ignore the footsteps behind you. You looked back frantically, one of the three man a little too close to your liking. A cry of disbelief and horror left you, eyes going back to look at the sidewalk before you. You prayed that somebody would appear and safe you, but knowing what kind of people were chasing you nobody would be able to help you anyway.
You were so close. One block and you were home. You were trying not give up, lungs burning, metallic taste in your mouth overwhelmed your senses for a second. And then when your mind cleared again, you heard nothing. You didn’t stop however, only turning your head back around. You cried out in small relief as you saw nobody behind you on the sidewalk.
You didn’t think much of it as you stumbled over your apartment building. You didn’t think about the fact that they maybe were watching you, seeing that running after you was no use. Your adrenaline rush was greater than their strength. You knew that they wouldn’t give up. That man won’t give — he will hunt you down and do whatever he wants with you, because that’s just who he is. However you only felt relief when you walked inside your home, just as the orange hue of the rising sun start to peaked out from behind the tall buildings, but you also couldn’t ignore the lingering darkenss.
────
A dream, a nightmare — that’s what you thought it was when you woke up. Your eyes were all puffy, mind still fuzzy, but also on high alert at the same time. You remember how the first thing that you did when you stumbled inside your apartment was deadbolting it and moving your wardrobe to block the door. It all happened so fast that you still even now think you really just dreamed all of it. However losing your favorite heels and also the pepper spray under your bed told you the opposite. You really are surprised that you even woke up, seeing that you overslept your alarm three times. You were in hurry to get to work in time, but you think should’ve called the police instead. However you know that it would put even more of a target on your head. You don’t know what this man is truly capable of and you can’t be certain that he hasn’t got anyone in the police, because he always gets away with everything. Also by the time the cops would get there, there would be no clue that would indicate that the most dangerous gang was even there.
Your paranoia and fear for your own safety led you to passing out the moment you fell on to your bed. You were still in your dirty, damp clothes, waking up half an hour late, but somehow you managed to find time for a shower, do your makeup and dress up. You at that moment realized how your life is just a show. You slept even more than yesterday, but somehow you are the most tired you have ever been. The second you walked into your work, a wave of guilt hit you. You really should’ve called the police as soon as you got to your apartment. However you really did give them a lot of time to clean up after their mess. maybe you shouldn't have gone to the window — you really thought you could be the hero.
You feel like a clown in your mid length sparkly dress and heels, staring at the small tv at the far left corner. The sign ‘Girls,Girls,Girls’ next to it made it quite hard to see clearly on the screen, but you could recognize the blurry sketch everywhere. However it isn’t a report like you expected, it is only a remind to call the police if you see anyone similar to this image. The police and probably even FBI are getting a little too desperate to your taste when they put a price on his head. They are only putting civilians into danger and you just know that taking down the leader of this gang would only cause more trouble. Everybody knows Bangchan as a bad man, a murder who steals and brakes things, like the lives of innocent people. From every report there is about his actions it seemed like he leaves nothing behind other than few hints. You wonder if all of those victims have anything in common, but if they did the federal government wouldn’t give too much information out. They are all liars and assholes. You remember your coworker telling you that they once barged in to the club with guns, leaving shortly after with no explanation what so ever. You moved to the city few months after that fiasco.
You wipe down a glass, unaware of your surroundings, so when an empty tray falls right on the counter before you, you jump right out of your skin. Your head whips to the girl before you who only gives you a look of confusion in return. “Girl, you good?” Cathy asks you, her dark hair falling into her eyes, but you still see her glare. You know her the longest out of anyone. She was the one other than her best friend Nina who dances at the private rooms who helped you with everything. A lot of people come and go, but you are greatful that she stayed here with you, just like the boy next to you.
You feel a hand on your shoulder, making your eyes fall onto David who wears the same look on his face. “What’s going on? You’ve been very jumpy today.” There’s a pull on his bushy eyebrows and you realize that it’s concern. He always has the tendency to joke around more than anything and you see him like this only from time to time, so it makes you even more nervous.
You blink at him in thought. “Did one of the guys give you trouble again?” The girl before you goes further and you fight the argue to just break down and tell them everything. You think about what to answer. If you told them, you would probably put them in danger and you definitely couldn’t live with that. You will just have to wait till your shift is over and call the police…
Your eyes flicker back to the tv that nobody other than staff stares at sometimes, there are simply way prettier things to look at. “Nothing happened, just tired…I guess.” It comes out leveled yet little and something told you that even with such a reassuring tone they didn’t believe you.
They didn’t ask you further after that, but both of them kept a careful eye on you for the next two hours and you almost quivered at their intense gazes. You prefer to be honest over anything, but you really can’t. You tried to distract yourself with looking at the dancers. Their moves were usually so mesmerizing and beautiful, but right now their sensual moves were not enough to distract you from overthinking.
Maybe it’s the fact that you were acting like nothing actually happened, because you didn’t talk about it nor called the police, but you swear you felt someone watching you. It weren’t the eyes of a peeping Tom like you are quite used to — these ones drilled holes into your back. Every time you would go away from the bar to collect empty glasses and take order which was quite frequent, because the club was packed full tonight, goosebumps would appear on your body. You can’t help, but imagine those dark, brown eyes looking at you from somewhere. Your own imagination will be the death of you.
In your hurry to get back to the bar and order the drinks from a table full of collage boys, a single shot of tequila was left behind. You know you shouldn’t do it as it is against the policy, but you find yourself not caring too much, swallowing the shot in one, smooth go. It immediately burns at the back of the throat and you look around swiftly to see if anyone saw you and to your delight no one even batted an eye at you.
“Y/N!” At the sound of your name, you freeze, thinking you actually got caught in your act, but you are only met with Cathy again. She walks up to you with heavy breaths, hair sticking to her forehead from the humidity. “They need you as a backup—“ With her words she nods her head to the direction of the VIP section, before making her way back to the bar with her own tray of empty glasses.
You frown, eyes snapping to that direction. You have never been in there, because it is a known fact that only specific people could get in there. It is like an individual part of the club and you think you have never met anyone from there other than Nina. Celebrities, politicians all sorts of known people go there from what you know and you definitely wouldn’t be able to slip in as your eyes fall on the tall bodyguard guarding the door. You snap back to reality, realizing you are literally standing in the middle of the room.
You walk up quickly to the dark haired girl, your expression still the same, but she somehow isn’t so phased by it. “At the private rooms?” You say slowly, trying to see if this is supposed to be some sort of joke.
Putting down the tray next to hers, you watch her for a second, but Cathy only nods, not even looking at you as she starts to make a Bloody Mary. “Yeah and someone is asking for you—“
You only give her another look of confusion, tilting your head in thought. Your eyes quickly travel to the stages, then to the private section and back then back to her again, “I’m not a dancer.” You almost scoff, not in disgust, but at the thought of your stiff-self dancing that way.
Her laugh is sharp and it kind of offends you in some way. “I know, baby.” David just happens to round the corner to help her, not without giving you an odd look. “They just asked you to help them back there, it’s packed full.”
You hum, still not sure why you, because someone like her or David would definitely be a better help. You still sometimes look at the recipe for certain drinks, like rainbow shots — very popular in the bar, those gave you a whiplash every time you would try to make them. The thought of the VIP section with private rooms being completely full didn’t seem weird to you. Here, at your usual section they aren’t any private rooms simply because the people at the private area are usually famous so if anything would’ve happened they would sure pay for it.
You go take your tray again, but a hand stops you, pushing it away from you. You give your male friend a small look when he points back to the direction of the private area. “Okay…and who is asking for me?” You say, walking to the edge of the bar, before you walk away.
“They didn’t say.” Answers you Cathy, running away with her tray now filled to the brim with drinks. You look quickly at David who just also walks away from you, serving another thirsty customer.
You don’t question their weird behavior anymore, seeing that they have their hands quite full at the moment, but you wonder why they behaved so weirdly towards you. It is weird in some way that someone asked for you specifically as you weren’t even a dancer. A lump forms at the back of your throat, while making your way towards the big man guarding the doors to your destination. The more you get closer, the more your heart beats faster. Something about this screamed trouble, but maybe you were just exaggerating.
Even from a distance the man at the door sees you and he sure is intimidating, even his stare makes you doubt if you can even go near his direction. He is so tall that it hurt to look up at him, almost forgetting why you are here in the first place when you stop before him. “Ehm…I’m Y/N, somebody was asking for me?” You say uncertain.
He looks you up and down quickly, before his eyes scan the room. When he looks back at you, he nods, stepping away from the doors which seemed miniature next to him. “Follow me.” He says, voice rough, like he smoked a whole pack of cigarettes before saying there two simple words. You mimic his nod dumbly, smacking your lips together to smudge your lipstick. You watch the man open the door for you, however just a little to let you slip in.
You immediately blink rapidly to adjust your vision to the darkness surrounding you. You are blinded by how dark the room is, stopping to stare at a light up stage filled with no dancers so far. Your eyes thankfully adjust to the change of lightning enough to let you see your surroundings. Confusion is the first thing you feel as you look around the area — literally no one is here. The room in some way looks the same as the section you work at, but it definitely lacks in life. You become nervous suddenly when you see the bodyguard turning around to walk back to you, seeing you aren’t following him.
You gasp slightly when he wraps his hand around your bicep, pushing you with him. His grip is so tight that it hurt to move, you didn’t have anything against going further into the room, but now you do. Your eyes follow the trail of empty tables to the lit stage again. The grip the man has you in made you scared, because there really isn’t a respond for him to do such that — only if he thought you were trying to escape…just like now.
A small sound of pain leaves you, pulling at his hand to at least loosen his grip. There really wasn’t a chance you could overpower him, you only looked stupid in the process, turning your body back to the entrance to push him back. Before he again pushes you closer to him, you get a glimpse of the outside…you never knew that those windows were one way mirrors. That made you sick to your stomach.
You stumble in your heels, but he basically walked for you the whole time. However you do almost fall forward when he twirls you around a surprisingly full table. You only see the back of their heads, but before you could wonder who these people are, the man holding you shoves you right before them. The brute force makes you double over, hands falling on to the table of their booth, shaking it in the process.
“There she is—“
You can’t breath — there is no way…you are officially dead. When you look up from the plastic table, you don’t look at the owner of the voice, but right at the man sitting before you. A choked sound leaves you, your heavy breaths fanning away your hair from your eyes to see the truth better. It is him. If the aura radiating from him wasn’t a dead giveaway, it would certainly be the scar running across his face. Your eyes met briefly, like yesterday and just like the last time, it activated your fight or flight instinct.
You turn around to run away, but you are only held back by the same man who took you here. How stupid of you to think you could get away. Your legs buckle, eyes starting to sting, because you can’t believe this is your life right now — well, probably the end of it. Chuckles are let out across the table and you become disgusted at such sound at such moment. “Oh, no where are you going?” Is said jokingly from your left side, your eyes falling onto a man with black, short hair and surpringly glimmering eyes.
You don’t know who he is exactly, but you just know that these men are all the eight members of Stray Kids. A funny name for such dangerous men, but it somehow suited them as they never stayed in one place, messing up lives all across the state like nothing. You can’t breath, your fear even blinded the pain from the grip on your shoulders. Even if your eyes go all around the whole table, your eyes still stop on him.
“No need to be scared now.” Says another, more deep voice and from your peripheral vision you see that it is the blonde man next to the leader. “We don’t bite.”
You stay quiet, your eyes falling on the sliver of skin peaking from his black shirt, too weak to look into his eyes or anywhere else. You do not believe that man, because how? There’s nothing that can make you feel even the slightest at ease right now. His voice was low, but reassuring in a sense, he tried, but it fell to deaf ears. You are starting to panic, thinking about how just few feet away from you are people that could possibly help you. However you can’t even breathe let alone move with that vice grip the bodyguard is holding you in and you realize that he probably was working for them the whole time. How did they manage to get in? With their reputation it must be hard for them to even get some sunlight, but somehow they are all sitting right before you in total relaxation. They do not look or sound angry with you, maybe because you are nothing, but a small fly to them anyway. It won’t take too much to take you down.
Your eyes trail higher, stopping at his yet again and with your blurry eyes you don’t see the small speck of softness at the corners of his eyes. “I swear, I won’t tell anyone what I saw, please don’t hurt me—“ You can’t believe you are actually begging for your own life.
“What did you see exactly?” Asks a man to your right. Your eyes travel to him, tears falling out of your eyes onto the table, clearing your vision for just a second, letting you get a glimpse of him. This one you recognize — long black hair, the famous freckle under his eye. Like his leader, his face has been seen several times and he definitely had no reason to hide such face. Now, his sharp features were pulled into mock thought, looking down at you in waiting.
Your lips parted and the men at the table can’t help, but smile at your expression. “Nothing…” You answer.
“No lying.”
You immediately turn to the leader. You frown slightly at his statement, not looking too long into his eyes, because it felt like he could literally turn you into stone by a single look. You realize that the long haired man was just making fun of you, twisting your fear into something they could smile at. You want to sneer at him, but that sure wouldn’t be smart and you can’t do anything other than blink between the leader and the place next to his head. “I saw something.” You confess, like they already didn’t know that. You look back at him again, giving him a look. “But I swear, I will not tell anyone.” There are few glances being shared between them, but yours was still on him. “I didn’t call the police…”
There is a pull at the corner of his plump lips, not even blinking as he looks into your eyes and you find yourself being mesmerized. “Of course not.” His tone is teasing and you again nervously exhale through your nose.
“What do you want?” You ask that question finally being spoken. “Just please don’t hurt me or my friends, they don’t know anything, no one—“
“A dance…” Your breath hitched at that, gazing at his lips and how each syllable roll out his tongue. You are completely left speechless. “Give us a dance and it will be as if nothing happened.”
Your lips are left parted in disbelief, eyes flickering over the whole table as you thought only of it as a joke, but none of them had a smile of amusement on their faces. You can’t believe that they really meant it. Something stabs you in the heart. It is way too easy, you have caught them in the act, they should end you like you expected. The fact that they are confident enough to know you won’t go and tell anyone after this is really making your blood boil. However they are right…you won’t tell anyone. You will pay for what you saw with just a dance, but you know that they will still keep an eye on you. You are not smart enough to take them down, you are just a girl.
Your breathing becomes leveled, seeing that they don’t have any intention to hurt you. You look up from the table to the leader who sighs through his nose heavily and even from here you can see his muscles in his legs jumping when he spreads his legs just a little wider. You can’t help but think how he would look at you if you would dance on his lap. You instantly feel heat spreading across your cheekbones, looking away from his bottom half to his face. This expression is different from any other and you are not so sure what it meant, but it sure made you bashfully look away.
“Oh…she’s shy—“ A cat like man teases and you shoot him a glare, only to receive a smile of pure amusement.
“How cute.” Coos another, the same one that had greeted you to the table. You momentarily turn to look at him, only seeing him looking at man in the center. “Maybe you should take her somewhere private.” Your heart beats faster, eyes widening. “We already have plenty here.” The dark haired man mentions to the stage and you didn’t even realize that the stage was already full of dancers. You want to open your mouth again and scream for help, but you know better than that.
You hear him move first, the leather of the booth squealing under him as he suddenly appears right in front of you. You gasp softly in shock, you didn’t even notice him making his way to you. You look up at him, just in eyes level with his chest. “How’s that sweetheart?” He almost sounds soft, however his eyes shined with fire looking down at you with his bottom lip caught in his mouth.
You sigh, nodding in shame. He doesn’t say anything else, waving his hand in the air, making the bodyguard let go of you. You stumble slightly, but you are quick enough to jump away from the hands trying to catch you. You do not need him touching you with those hands right now. You don’t look at him, looking down at his feet instead that turn to the direction of the private rooms. Your heart is in your throat, but something told you there’s no reason for you to be so scared. If he wanted to hurt, he would’ve done it a long time ago.
You wipe away your already dried tears, eyes falling on the stage and your eyes momentarily met with one of the dancers, Nina. She has to stay in character all the time, but she still gives you a quick reassuring look. You are only left confused, wobbling your way behind the man. Are you scared or nervous? You are really starting to wonder, piercing holes into his back that rips with every move of his arms. You keep your distance, watching him push a curtain to one of the rooms away and then turning around to let you in first. Your mouth opens again, like a fish. There is a small sneer at your lips as you glance at him and he gives you a raise of his eyebrow in return.
You hold your breath when you pass by him, but you still get a whiff of his strong cologne. He is close to you, so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. You shiver turning to look back at him, but he is already in front of you. You stand in the middle of the lightly lit room, eyes going to the booth that sat at the corner of the small room. There is a pole in the middle of it and your mouth dries out when he makes his way to that direction. Your legs start to shake at the thought of the pole between your thighs, not so sure if it was from fright or pure excitement. You can’t lie that you haven’t thought of also dancing, but you are not sure you if you could even look half as good as those girls on the stage.
Weight is lifted from your shoulders when he comes to the table to only pull out a chair for himself. He moves the chair so smoothly, twirling it in his hand to place it before you. You hate that you are somehow mesmerized by his movements and the way he goes to sit down on the chair. You don’t even register biting on your lip, but it is mostly from how nervous you are. The man pulls his pants up to his lower region to be more comfortable and your eyes fall into that direction with wide eyes.
“I like the dress.” He breaks the silence, while spreading out his legs. Two or three more buttons on his shirt are undone, maybe popping from the size of his muscular chest. You quickly snap back to present, fingers playing with the hem of your dress at his statement, watching him slowly trail his brown eyes down your body. “Not so sure about the shoes…” Your silent question about that statement is answered rather quickly as he without breaking eye contact bends over, hand going under the booth. You can’t believe you are still getting shocked after all that happened, but it sure is surprised to you when he pulls out your beloved Jimmy Choo heels. “Put them on for me, baby.”
Something hot pools in your lower tummy at the nickname, your heart already is beating so fast that you can hear it in your ears. You don’t want to thank him for such thing, but it still made you happy. Those shoes became something very special to you as they were the first ever pair of luxury heels you bought. You catch his eyes and without word you pull your legs up to untie your way cheaper heels.
They are thrown across the room, not really caring too much at the moment as you slowly make your way to him. He holds your shoes for you take and when you stand in front of them, you definitely don’t remember them being so clean. They are shining, like brand new, but there is still that one large scratch at the pointed tip. It reminds you of the scar that the man before you has in some way.
You are close to him, the closest you have been so far and the soft orange light hitting his face makes him look devilish. Taking your shoes from him, you step back slightly to put them on, not missing how his eyes fall to your cleavage when you bend over. He licks his lips, looking you up and down again and you wonder if he likes what he is seeing. “Now, dance for me.” He demands and you remember at his tone who this man really is. “No need to be so scared…you take tips right?” The smirk adoring his lips told you that his words were meant for something else and you finally scoffed at him.
He doesn’t look offended by the sound, only pushing his body down further. You follow the movement, but your head rolls to look at the cushion ceiling right after. You feel nothing, but weak, swaying your hips softly to the beat of the music to get in the mood. You could imagine someone else in the chair, but how? You can feel him, smell him even, head falling down in exhaustion from even trying.
You roll your body the same way you have seen the dancers do it, hands caressing over your hips. If you give him a good enough dance, it would be over sooner — or he on the other hand won’t get enough. The shot of tequila in your system helps you build confidence when you walk slowly to him. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even challenging you with his intense stare. You think you are starting to get into it as you act like you are falling over, just to smack your hands on each side of his chair. Your knees touch his, the material of his pants tickling your naked skin. Then you shiver — your eyes widened at your own body responding like that. He watches your inner struggle, head hanging low to catch your gaze. You are surprised that he didn’t look down, keeping his eyes only on yours and you straightened up at that.
When you go push your breasts back into your dress, because they almost spilled over, you almost gasp. Your nail hits plastic right between your breasts and thankfully the sound is masked by the music. It was your pepper spray, you completely forgot about putting it there. You know that it’s stupid, but he seems a little hazy and your attack would be unexpected. If you would spray him with it, then hit him with something and dash out the back door, you could call the police.
You move slowly around him, hand falling between your breasts the moment you stop behind him. However just as you pull it out, ready to turn around and spray it in his face, his hand stops you. You gasp at the strong grip on your wrist, watching him stand up from his seat to press you against the table. “Now what is this?” He asks you, eyes going to your pepper spray that falls to the ground with a heavy sound. Your mouth opens and closes, heavy breaths mixing with his from his close proximity. “You really thought you could take me out with that?” You didn’t even know that he knew about it the moment you had bend over.
His chest is pressed against yours, each hand being pinned down to the table by his. He towers over you slightly as he maneuvered you on the table a little bit. You are silent for a second, eyes going over his face. Even if there’s no smile you can see the amusement reflecting in his eyes. “You can’t touch me, the policy here—“ Are your words, because you couldn’t think of saying anything else. You again put yourself in the hands of death.
“I know the policy.”
“Then you know, you can’t touch—“
“The dancers and the waitresses?” He finishes for you, smiling down at you. “Baby…I know the rules, I made them after all.” You look at him bewildered, your expression fading into thin air when he puts his head into the dip between your shoulder and neck. “Now we will rewrite them for my and yours benefit.” Every word bounces off your skin, chills going down your spine.
You shutter, feeling him press his nose into the skin behind your ear. “This club is not yours.” You whisper, not too harshly like you intended too.
His hum vibrates on your skin, hearing him take a deep breath of your spicy perfume. “Have you seen the owner?” He asks you.
You pull your head away to look at him in the eyes. He sounded so genuine and you could even see it. Your mind quickly comes back to your first day here — you got the job few days after the interview and you remember that no owner shook your hand and congratulated you, it was actually Cathy. Your eyes widened, shaking your head in disbelief. “How? How can anyone not know about this?” You breathe out.
He can tell who you are referring to, because he lets his people look over the files of new people. His friends go here way frequently than him, but when Changbin chased after you yesterday, he immediately recognized you. Such a coincidence that you are actually already work for him. Watching you through the one way window, he couldn’t believe himself that he didn’t see you sooner. You are shining and seeing you talk with his best people in this business, he just had to have you. “Some do, trust me.” He says, his mind wandering to their sponsors. “Some of them just don’t have the balls to do anything about it and tell me why would anyone want to close down the best strip club in the city?” He laughs shortly, pulling you closer to him. “Do you know that cops come here? It’s funny really, they are so close yet so far…”
You are breathing heavily form his words, but you do not move away from him. You want to justify yourself that he was simply too strong, even if his hold was on the softer side. “Bang Chan…”It comes out as a plea and you don’t even know for what yourself.
“Call me, Chris.”
You are shocked by him revealing his name to you, because it almost sounded like a promise. Your mouth is left gaping when you see him lowering his lips to your neck. Your pulse is pressing against your skin and it jumps when his lips just barely graze over the thin layer of skin. It burns, so much that you feel by it in your stomach. “You won’t get away with this.” You say. You tried so hard to sound intimidating, but you just can’t think straight when he presses kisses on your neck.
“Oh, really?” Humming, he suddenly bites down your neck and you gasp wildly at such bold move.
“Please—“ You say, breathlessly, his name just at the tip of your tongue.
He stops at your word, turning back to you with glassy eyes. “Please, what?” His voice is rough and on the edge.
You think about what exactly you are pleading for. For him to continue or stop immediately? Something in between. Your desire is making you blind. This man before you is a criminal, a bad person you want to say, so why does his touch feel so good? “Please…don’t.” Your mind answers for you, your heart screaming the other.
“Don’t?” He repeats after you and you firstly think that he sounded offended, but then you feel his hand on your thigh. You almost whimper at his hot touch, eyes going down to his hand moving up your soft skin. You don’t make a move to stop him, your mind clouded by the way his hand perfectly fit in the dip of your upper thigh. You didn’t even feel your dress riding up your body, but it didn’t even matter as he still touches you through your underwear. “Then why are you soaking through?” You only sigh, feeling his fingers pressing right into your clothed clit. “I can see your pussy from here.” There goes another one of his smiles, eyes flying from your dripping center to yours.
“You are a bad person…” You say, voice too little.
His hand stops, but the same pressure on your cunt stays the same. “Says who? The police?” He raises his eyebrow, almost spitting that last word.
“You killed someone.”
He nods, becoming cold for a second. “Yes, but do you even know why?” You are silent, watching his face scrunch up in what seem like disgust. “That man was a bad person who definitely deserved something worse than death.”
You breathe out heavily. “So you think you are good person, because you killed a bad person and not a good one?”
“You said I’m a good person?” Goosebumps appear on your body, but not so much from fear anymore. Arousal drips out of you, his fingers pulling the material of your lace underwear to the side. You let him willingly, even eagerly. He gave you a moment to make a choice, but you only watch him with hazy eyes while he runs his pointer finger through your slick. “Though…I’m a gentleman.”
You snicker, you just can’t help it. “Oh, really? What about the hand in my panties?” His finger joins another for an answer, pressing harder and unexpectedly flicking your clit.
A brutal, filthy moan falls from your lip and he drinks it right up, playing with your clit between his two fingers. “Are you saying you don’t like this?” He sounds dreamy and you are on the edge of losing your mind over him. He lowers his head, resting it on your shoulder, plump lips right next to your ear. “I think you like the danger—“ You bite your lip not to let him hear the nasty sounds coming from the back of your throat. “—the thought of someone powerful taking over you, it excites you.”
You shake your head, your earring only being caught between his teeth. “You are just a man–“ You say, gritting your teeth in pleasure.
Your eyes are closed, but his are fully on you. “I’m, so excuse me for doing this—“ His finger suddenly breaches your hole and with no resistance what so ever.
You gasp out, your hand shooting to his. Only a one finger and he finds the spots inside you that you have trouble finding yourself. Your eyes open, head rolling to your other shoulder to look at him. He stills his hand for a second to straighten his back, watching you, trying to see if there is any hint that you want him to stop. However you only look at him with glossy eyes, red painted lips puffing out in small sighs. He can’t help himself, putting another finger inside you, curling them, pushing into the soft spot.
You whimper, feeling yourself dripping all over of his hand. “Please, I don’t know…” Your body knows — it’s already screaming just from his fingers and when your hips jump, your thigh touches his hard cock through his pants.
“I do.” He trusts his fingers in and out of you in steady yet too slow pace for your liking. “Just look at your body responding to me—“ You can see it yourself. Your body didn’t feel like yours anymore, hips bumping into his. “I still want that dance…a real dance.” He says, voice cracking at the end when he pulls his fingers out of you.
Gasp leaves you from shock and dissatisfaction. You stand before him, leaning on the table with rigid breaths. Lips parted, he looked at it like an invitation to shove his fingers in your mouth. You choke around his fingers for a second, eyes wide and staring into his, before your hand wraps around his to help you keep your sanity. You moan at your own taste, sucking at his fingers and slurping your juices and the taste of skin right up, eyes never leaving his and at that moment you realize you are in deep shit — there’s no way you can stop here.
He pulls his fingers away from you way too quickly, catching how his knuckles are stained red from your lipstick. You watch him walk backwards into the chair, not breaking eye contact when he falls into it, spreading his legs just like before, but now you don’t have to hide how much you enjoy seeing him do that. You hop off the table not even smoothing down your dress or putting your underwear back to its place. You can already feel your slick coating your inner thighs with each slow step, pressing them together to ease the ache between them.
You can’t beat yourself for behaving like this. That man is a whole course meal. Pretty, sparkling eyes hidden by his hair, flushed cheeks, bitten lips and also dangerous — you will dance for him and you won’t hold back. You feel possessed, mind clouded by arousal when you stop before him, right leg shooting up to balance your weight on the armrest of his chair. He groans lowly at your bold move, eyes going up your naked leg to your exposed cunt. “Look at you…” Before he could get a better look you, you put your leg down.
He is impressed by your change of character, letting you run your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. You want to moan at the muscles jumping under your touch, but then pretty nose pokes at the inside of your wrist, making short pain shoot up your body and you only now notice the small bruise on your skin. “Did he hurt you?” He asks, looking up at you.
His voice got lower, expression serious for a second. “A little bit.” You answer simply, too occupied with moving to the rhythm of the music.
The man in the chair forgets about it rather quickly as you turn around, bending over. Another, but even lower groan with hiss at the end leaves him at the view. “Yeah, that’s it bend over for me…” Curse flies out his mouth, hands gripping at the chair tightly to not just shove you into his cock right then and there. He almost drools over the swell of your ass peeking from the bottom of your dress and your panties that are dangerously melting into your cunt. He can see everything, but it isn’t enough. “I think, I have to hire you again as a dancer.”
You laugh breathlessly and then cry out when he smacks you unexpectedly across the back of your right thigh. You feel the sting and you are certain your skin will be sore tomorrow, but the pleasure that comes right after the slap is definitely worth it. “Turn around for me.” You wordlessly do as he says and you then shock yourself by just falling to your knees before him instead, however you are thankfully that you did, because the view you have is simply delicious. His hand comes to caress your face, fingers hooking under your jaw to press his thumb to your bottom lip. “Such pretty lips, think you could use them for better purpose than telling me I’m a bad person?”
“You basically said that yourself.” You fire back breathing matching his, your hands falling to his knees and you swear you see his cock jump in his pants.
“After I’m done with you, I will be the best person you have ever met.” His words are softer than expected, but the way he puts his thumb in your mouth isn’t. Your eyes momentarily close to savor the taste of his salty skin and he looks at you like he never seen anything so beautiful. “Say my name.” He gasps out, the sound hanging over the edge of being a pathetic whine.
Your eyes open, pulling out his thumb from your lips with a pop. “Chris.” You whisper, nervously playing with the waistband of his pants. How can you have such an effect on him already?
Chris lets you undone his belt and then his zipper, the crisp sound louder than the pumping music. Your mouth waters from the prominent buldge in his underwear, heart hammering against your chest. You can’t believe you are about to suck off the most dangerous man in the city — yet nothing ever felt so right to you. Your shaking fingers pull the material down, him putting his hands on yours in small reassurance. Now you only want him more.
You are again left speechless when you see the yummy, short patch of public hair and his cock slapping against his abdomen. Chris hisses at the cold air hitting his flushed, red tip, few drops of precum rolling down the length of it. Your pussy throbs painfully, pressing your thighs together at the simple view of his thickness. Maybe that is why he keeps sitting like that, to hide something like this everyday must be challenging, but now it will be your pleasure.
You don’t want to say it’s been a while since the last time you touched someone, but you want to say you have never seen someone this big. His ego sure comes from something. Your hand travels up his leg to pull out his heavy balls, not missing the opportunity to squeeze them lightly. Chris moans at your touch, head rolling back just by that. He looks so sensitive and it seems like he is. Your thumb pushes into his tip next, smearing his cum all over it, before finally wrapping your hand around him.
“Fuuuuuuck—“ Flies out his mouth, when you lean over to wrap your lips around him. You moan at his taste, rolling your tongue across his squishy yet hard cock. His hand goes to run through your hair, pushing the front strands back to see more of your pretty lipstick staining his length.
You swallow more of him, jaw hurting from the sheer thickness. Your eyes water, but you just have to look at him, moaning around him as you do so. You think have never felt this much pleasure from just pleasuring someone. The look on his face, his rising chest, sweat coating his neck…You gag when he presses you down further and even if he groans in pleasure, he doesn’t go further than that. On the other hand he pushes your head up and then back down, letting you get used to him using your mouth for its own pleasure.
The ground is stained with your juices, groans and moans from both of you echoing around the room and mixing with the music. You feel every vein on his cock pulsating, sucking on them harder to get closer and under his skin. When your nose hits the few hairs on his stomach you gargle, spit rolling out of your mouth. You are at that immediately pulled back from him, coughing wildly. “Sorry about that.” He says, not sounding too concern as he looks at your tear stained face mixed with saliva and his cum.
You nod, licking at your lips and that makes him tug at the roots of your hair. You whine at his rough manners, standing up just to be shoved into the table again with his hand in your hair helping you move around. Without a word you hop on to it, bare ass landing on the cold plastic. “Chris…” Just like him you are starting to like the way his names sounds on your lips. When you call out his name, he finally pulled down his pants and underwear, stepping between your open legs. He is dazed by the sight of his cock resting on your clothed mound, but you win his attention back with your sultry voice. You look like pure sin and with the small amount of red lipstick left on your lips he has to have it on his.
His hand in our hair softens when his lips fall onto yours. Chris can taste the hint of wax layer on your lips as well as his own musk on your tongue. You feel on cloud nine just by the way he kisses you. He kissed with so much passion that it felt like you have known each other for years. His lips are simply heavenly and sinfully delicious. “Hmm— fuck me…” Your words are swallowed by his lips, but he can feel them vibrating in his mouth.
Chris pulls away from you, not without biting on your bottom lip. “What was that?” You want to roll your eyes at his teasing tone, but only whimper instead when he puts the tip of his cock over your covered clit.
Your hips jump wildly, him holding them down with just one of his hand. “Fuck me, Chris—“ You say, lips on his throat and biting down on his Adam’s apple that bobbles up and down at your plea. He finally lets go, pulling your bottom half to him closer, your ass sliding and squeaking over the table. You watch him go down to his knees, but you quickly stop him even if the thought of him eating you out sounded nice, you want him inside of you more. “No, just fuck me–“
He looks up at you with big eyes and if you didn’t know his reputation you would say that those were the best puppy eyes you have ever seen. He wants to argue with you, tell you that he should prep you so he doesn’t hurt you, but he realizes that’s exactly what you want. You want him to fuck you so hard that his cock makes a mold inside your pussy. Pulling your right leg up, you push him forward, your pelvis meeting his. You whimper at the feeling of him between your legs, sweat already gathering across your forehead and you moan in delight when he pulls your soaked underwear to the side.
When Chris slides his cock through your folds to coat himself in your slick, he basically loses his mind. He never had pussy this dripping wet, pretty clit swollen and pulsating with every push of his hips. “You are beautiful.” He compliments you sweetly, hand holding his cock to your entrance, but not with caressing your face in his other hand first. You whimper, tummy full of butterflies from his comment. He has such a way with words and also that body of his — so good.
Your breath is knocked out of your lungs when he slides his hard cock into you. Your walls stretch around him, hungrily sucking him right him. It burns a little, legs shaking just from the feeling of him inside of you. Your heel doesn’t even touch the ground, shoe falling down on the ground while the other stays on as he kisses your neck. He licks and bites to kill the time, while he lets you adjust around him. You feel him sucking at your neck, creating purple blotches on your delicate skin. You eagerly run your fingers through his open shirt, clenching down on him when you feel pure muscles.
Chris hisses again, kissing down your collarbones, hips jumping into yours and you both groan when his mushroom tip kisses your cervix. When you clench again, it makes him slowly roll his hips again and he finally feels you relaxing in his strong hold. The way he moves makes your think he must be a dancer himself, because you are already feeling the sweet taste of your release. You both start to breath heavier, air becoming thick and hot around you the more he picks up his speed.
You whimper, almost sob, because you need more of him and just like he could read your thoughts he pulls his head away from your skin to kiss you. “Hold on, baby.” You only hum, letting him guide you to lean back, watching him pull your left leg over his shoulder. Your hand wraps around the pole next to your head and you are thankful that you do, because he immediately starts to trust in to you with roughness and precision.
You can’t help but squeal, crying from the shocks of pleasure as his hips snaps roughly into yours, filling you to the hilt with his cock. Your other leg shots up in reflex, pulling it to your chest. The way he fucks is anything but gentle, but it is all that you wished for. His pelvis hits the bottom of your thighs in loud slaps, pubic hair bumping deliciously into your clit. You fall back, not strong enough to hold yourself up anymore, only strong enough to take it. “Fuck, Chris!” Your voice doesn’t even sound like yours anymore.
The air is knocked out of you with each trust and he literally growls at the sound his name. Every time his hips snap into yours, your tits jump out of your dress and he couldn’t wonder any longer. Chis pushes roughly the material down and to his delight you didn’t have any bra on. His hands leave your hips just to grab your breasts, smushing them together. You moan as he pinches and rolls your nipples, whining loudly when he leans over you. It makes your legs press flush to your chest, his one hand falling next to your head to hover over your body while the other wraps around the pole right to yours.
“Fuck, I don’t think you can work here anymore—“ You clit is being bullied by his rolling hips, eyes becoming blurry, making it hard to see his. He helps you by squishing your cheeks between his fingers, making your lips pout cutely. “You will dance for me, only me from now on. What do you say, baby?”
His words are slightly hard to make out with the noises of skin slapping mixing with them, but even with your fucked out mind you could understand enough. You are drunk on him, spit coating his hand that falls back next to your head, seeing you are listening to him. “Are tips included?” You say, voice rough, nails biting at his shoulders.
“Oh, you will be taking the whole thing.”
You both smile breathlessly at each other, him not stopping fucking you, because seeing your pretty face screwing up in pleasure is to die for. Your sweaty hand slips from the pole and without realizing yourself, you put his face into the palm of your hand. Looking into his eyes, you see something flash in them when your fingers dance across the scar on his face. And then Chris whines — he fucking whines, like a broken puppy.
You clench around him at the sound and he only gives you another. “Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum inside of you, baby—“ He humms, grunting under his breath.
You already feel yourself falling over the edge, holding it just to make it better by cumming with him. “ Yeah, please, I want it.” You say.
“Yeah? You want it? Right here?” Chris pulls himself up enough to push his hand down on your lower stomach. You cry out, shaking like a leaf, because that is setting a whole fire inside of you. “Look, you can even see me in your cute, little tummy—“ He coos at your faces of pleasure. His hips shutter and yours jump. You try to calm your body down, but he is doing things you have never felt before. When the hand holding him up disappears, the one on your tummy pushes harder and when starts to do figure eights on your clit you are officially done for. “Cum for me, soak my cock, Y/N—“
You gasp loudly at the sound of your name rolling out of his tongue, back arching as you cum around him. Your pussy leaks, making a creamy ring of your pleasure around the base of his cock. Your whole body shakes right after the first wave, tits jumping in the air and the sight as well as the feeling of you cumming around him makes him shove his cock into your cunt the deepest he has been so far. Your ears ring, not even hearing yourself sobbing, but you do hear his moans of absolute pleasure. He stuffs you full, hand still pushing at your tummy and you whimper at the overstimulation, skin sticky with all sorts of fluids.
Your eyes are closed, concentrating on riding out your orgasm. You are simply dazed, but still you feel the small brush of his lips over yours and peaking at him through your clumped eyelashes, he flashes you a boyish smile. “Dinner?” The sight of your puffy cunt, fucked out expression and now drunk smile spreading across your lips was definitely worth the risk.
#bangchan x reader#bangchan x y/n#bangchan x female reader#bangchan smut#bangchan x you#changbin x reader#felix x reader#han jisung x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#i.n x reader#lee know x reader#seungmin x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!
Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read
genre: ANGST
+ 1,6k words
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6
You thought you were going insane.
Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.
Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.
Fuck all that bullshit.
Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye
Everything was a lie, apparently.
The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.
In the end you didn't care. Just waited.
When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.
of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.
But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.
You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.
Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-
the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.
Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.
.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
.
You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.
You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.
Simon.
The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.
You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.
You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down
You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.
You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.
In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.
.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
.
heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.
Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.
The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.
You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.
"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.
He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.
You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.
"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.
.
Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.
"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.
You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.
His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.
"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-
he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-
Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-
"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.
"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.
He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.
Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.
Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.
He had to do his job- protect his family.
Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.
"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.
.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
.
You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.
They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.
But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.
The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.
Fucking. Revenge.
-
!please do reblog! :)
join the Taglist here (Taglist post)
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x fem! reader#simon ghost x reader#john price#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley angst#captain price#call of duty modern warfare#traitor!141!reader#traitor!reader#141!reader#task force 141#tf 141#johnny mactavish#captain john price#kyle gaz#kyle gaz garrick#Tw stabbing#tw violence#tw cursing#tw hypothermia#tw toxic behavior#tw weightloss#tw blood#tw torture
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Devourance (18+)
♡ Pairing: Dracula / Nosferatu!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: vampire au, dracula / nosferatu au, 1800s au, human / vampire relationship, horror themes, reincarnation, soulmates, smut
♡ Word Count: 3.9k
♡ Summary: Hyunjin has crossed oceans of time to find you– the one who's blood calls to him, who beckons for him in the dead of night, who yearns for his touch against all conceptions of what one must and must not desire. The ancient Vampyr has an appetite for you; an appetite that won't ever be sated.
♡ General Warnings: reader has depression (referred to as melancholy), reader is a lucid dreamer, usage of vampire abilities (invading dreams, shapeshifting, heightened senses), hyun's true form is very Creature Vampire so. still sexy if ur a monster fucker like me but some of y'all may not like that lmao
♡ Smut Warnings: does having sex with someone inside their dream count as somnophilia? idk !!, outdoor sex (kind of; it's a dream so they're not really outside lol), wet dreams, pet names (my love, my heart), referenced biting and blood drinking, unprotected piv, creampie
♡ Notes: originally, when i was planning my late kinktober fics, this was strictly a dracula au (as i love the 1992 movie and have a beautiful copy of the book sitting in my horror novel collection <3) but i saw the nosferatu remake in theaters and it rotted my fucking brain lmao so this became a blend of both ! i hope you enjoy it, cause i had a blast writing it <3
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
It starts as a dream; a waking one, so vivid and lucid that the line between conscious reality and imagination blurs, all perception of time and space bending and warping to what your subconscious mind feels most safe and familiar.
Your hands clasped together, a deep breath before you close your teary eyes, your souls desires laid out in a whispered prayer– "Come to me."
Who are you asking for? Who will heed your call? A friend you wish to have, but have yet to obtain? An imaginary prince charming who will right all the wrongs of your life with his presence alone? God himself? Death?
You do not know– all you know is that you are desperate for an escape from the melancholy that permeates your life, seeping its way into every crack of your porcelain heart, as thick and murky black as tar. It sticks to you, wraps itself around every cell, clinging to you in a loveless embrace.
Even in your dreams you cannot escape it; so often you hear tale of joyous dreams. Dreams in which you stand upon the altar, waiting to be wed to the love of your life, dreams in which you share a dinner with one you admire, or dreams in which you have coveted all that you desire.
You are regaled with recollections of dreams full of simple pleasures; warm and nostalgic, dreams of playing in the front yard as a child, with your mother's freshly baked bread wafting to you from the open window. Dreams of early school days, where one's only worry in the world was what they'd play when they got back home.
For some, dreams are entirely nonsensical; there is often no clear purpose, nor story, nor concrete feeling– but it is pleasant in its own right, and entertaining to recall the absurdities in which you found yourself in the middle of.
You do not experience such simple pleasures.
While for others, dreams are a pleasant escape from everyday life, a blissful end to an arduous day of work, your dreams are an extension of your reality. They offer no comfort, nor joy, nor escape from your bleak, mundane existence. You are ever as aware of yourself whilst asleep as you are while conscious, feeling every emotion just as strongly as you do in the light of day.
You wish you could say you have adapted to life with your melancholy, or learned to be at peace with it, or that you don't mind having no escape. But the truth of the matter is that your dreams being not a safe haven as they should be tolls on you, made worse by the fact that even in the sanctuary that should be your mind, you are utterly alone and miserable.
So there you stand in your waking dream, wishing for a change. A mirror of your reality, your status within your dream reflects the state you were in before falling to sleep. You are in your bedroom, as pitch dark as you left it when blowing out the candles, the only illumination coming from the moon shining through your balcony doors.
You stand in the middle of the room, hands clasped and eyes closed as you whisper your prayers, the same lily-white chemise you wore to bed draping your body. So perfect a recreation of your surroundings, that were it not for the fact that you so vividly remember adhering to your sleep routine and laying your head against the pillows, you might not even be able to say that this was a dream at all.
And though it is just the confines of your mind, and you are certain no one but God can hear you (if he will listen, and hasn't yet turned his back on you), you plead.
"Come to me. A guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, a spirit of any celestial sphere– anyone, anything. Please, hear my call."
There is naught in the room but silence when you are finished; you are as alone with your thoughts as you ever are. You take a breath, blink away building tears, readying yourself to try again– and then, to your greatest surprise, there is a response.
For the first time in all your many dreams, a voice answers you– soft, an indistinct whisper akin to your own, but you hear it echo in the silence of your bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips as you look around the room.
Slowly, you lower your hands, taking an unconscious step forward, closer to where the voice calls to you from your balcony. You cannot yet discern what the voice is saying, nor can you see their figure, but you watch breathlessly as the lock on your balcony doors seems to unlatch itself, a sudden gust of wind pushing it open.
The air is cooler than you'd expect for a late spring's breeze, but you do not shiver or shrink away from the sudden chill; instead, you tentatively take another step, following the unfamiliar, beckoning voice. The voice becomes clearer the closer you step to the balcony, and though you see nothing out of the ordinary before you, you feel them.
No, to say you do not see them is not right– invisible in your mortal gaze, yes, but the moon casts their shadow on your wall, your curtains billowing with the steady breeze capturing their inhuman silhouette. And surely it is merely a trick of shadow that makes the figure appear so inhuman– because how else can you grapple with so foreign a creature standing before you?
You rationalize the impossibly tall silhouette as the moon elongating their shadow, the sharp and pointy length of their nails having simply become exaggerated, the unnatural point of their ears the result of a penumbra trick. Their figure vanishes with each fall of your curtains, reappearing with each rise; but their shadow ever lingers, eerie black against your ivory walls.
Their shadow serves as a reminder, you think– that even when you cannot see them, they will be there. Watching, beckoning, waiting; the voice, once so indistinct and otherworldly, is now crystal clear in your ears. Soft but luminous, it calls you as you take another cautious step closer.
"You," the voice starts, and though soft, it is an aching rasp– reminiscent, you think, of when one has fallen ill, or of times when one's throat has grown stiff from disuse. You have no further time to ponder if this is the man's– creature's?– natural inflection; for in just a few more careful utterances, their tone smooths, the soft voice becoming silken.
"You," the male voice repeats, smooth as satin and utterly mesmerizing, "I have heard you. And I answer in turn– come to me."
The shadow moves along your wall then, creeping closer to you; it feels as if it envelops you, embracing you with a blissful warmth you've never before felt. It clings to you with each step, but it does not feel like the melancholic tar you are accustomed to; it is a gentle ribbon, guiding you further with promises of sweetness you have so long craved.
Holding now to the railing of your balcony, you look to the gardens below. There you see him, standing amongst the tall, twisting trees and blooming lilacs. He gazes up at you, eyes black as a void, and yet they still shine in the light of the moon.
And just as a void promises to, his look swallows you whole. You lose yourself in the dark, hypnotic pool of his eyes, stumbling forward almost blindly, with one simple thought– you must go to him.
You are before him in an instant, though you have no recollection or understanding as to how. Did you walk off the balcony and fall below? Did you turn back and trek through the house to make it to the gardens? Is this the absurdity of dreams that normally eludes you, or is a greater power at work?
The answer seems of little importance; bewitched by the man standing before you, you find that logic and rationality hold no value. He is here, perfection and beauty embodied wholly– the answer to your prayers; that is all you care to know.
Your hand trembles, your utmost desire now to reach out and feel him beneath your fingertips, to confirm that he is not just a figment of your dream– that there really was someone in this world who could hear you from beyond, and cared enough to respond to your call.
Hair as black as his eyes, a few long strands falling over his perfect cheekbones, while the rest is tucked behind his normal, and not at all pointed, ears. He has full, plush lips shaded in an enchanting, muted red, with a little mole under his left eye and utterly flawless, pristine skin.
He is ethereal, and radiant, and he is here for you– and while his eyes hold a darkness you have never before seen, his smile is impossibly tender. He takes your trembling hand in his own, and you can feel his nails poke your skin as he closes it around you.
They are long, yes, but not as long and pointed as his shadow would've led you to believe them to be. There is a part of you that decides you were correct to think his features were simply exaggerated and warped by shadow, though the deep recesses of your heart and mind know this isn't true.
Whatever he is, whoever he may be– he is not of this world, you know that for certain. For who else in the world could hear you? Who would have the power to meet you in your mind? A trickster, an angel, a devil? It matters not, you decide; for perhaps, in some ways, you are not of this world either.
Perhaps you have always felt melancholic, twisted, and odd, because your destiny did not reside with your fellow man– perhaps it lied here, with this creature who wears the mask of the beautiful sort of prince charming you've yearned for.
His shadow was the truth of his being, you innately know, and yet it gives you no fear. He squeezes your hand, a reassurance, while the other rises to cup your cheek in his palm, a tender rub of his thumb along the skin where he holds you. His gentle touch is ice cold, but it spreads warmth through your body regardless– because oh, how you've longed for the companionship of another.
"You are for me," he whispers as he inches closer, your noses on the precipice of touching, "and I, you. Do you believe in destiny?" He stares at you, observing you closely as he awaits your answer. You swallow, heart quickening as you hold his gaze.
"Yes," you utter softly; for in the depths of your soul, you feel it– the immutable pull that tells you this is where you must be. Beside him, in his arms, at his side for all eternity– and he will love you, this you know true; because even down to the very marrow of your bones, your body says it is so.
He has searched for you for an age; not someone like you, no. You. Only you. And his delight to finally have heard his beloved's call, and to answer– it is an unparalleled joy, one that he expects you to share. For even in your mortal life, your blood sings for him just the same as it did those many, long centuries ago.
You were promised to him then, as you are now– and he will have you, just as he did then. First in sleep, as you are now, but someday soon he will find you in the physical world once more. He will hold you in his arms, your reunion as joyous as it is profane. Rejoice, as you join him back to your true home; the castle, your castle, where every moment was spent in unholy exuberance.
"Do you remember?" he asks, voice honey-sweet, "remember how we once were?"
You do not, not really– your mind has no recollection of the man before you. But your soul remembers, has carried the weight of centuries of love and longing with it all this time, waiting for the moment all the feelings harbored within could finally be unearthed.
"I know you," you answer, truthfully; because while this is your first meeting in this life, you recognize him all the same. In the deepest recesses of your memory, he is there, gazing upon you with the same reverence he does now. He holds you close, kisses you tender, his touch along your skin slow and gentle, his name a whispered prayer on your lips.
Hyunjin.
His eyes light up when you call his name, a smile growing on his perfect lips. Hyunjin would know you anywhere, and there was never any doubt you were his love– but all the same, it is a great relief to hear his name fall from your lips again after so many years spent longing for it.
He kisses you then, doing his utmost to relay the depths of his passion, while also holding the carnality he feels for you at bay– the last thing he wishes to do is overwhelm you with his appetite too soon. You are his affliction, his every desire, he must have you; and he can only pray that you will not deny him, or yourself, the pleasure– but only when the time is right.
"You will be mine once more," he says; a statement, not a question, between kisses to your lips, "as I am eternally yours." Your nerves tingle, blood alight as you return his affections, meeting his lips with urgency.
"I will have you," he continues, almost breathless as his lips begin to trail down your neck, "Will you swear it? That again, we are for no one but each other?" His breath tickles your skin, the points of two sharp teeth touching the sensitive pulse point. You shiver as his fangs linger there, closing your eyes as your heart thunders in your chest.
Hyunjin can not truly drink from you here, not in the confines of your dream, but his teeth against your neck serve as a reminder– that your blood is his greatest temptation. Should you promise yourself to him once more, he won't be able to resist you– as there is no taste sweeter than the blood of his beloved.
"I swear," you whisper your promise; for you will never fear him, nor can you deny the ecstasy that comes when he drinks from you. “ever-eternally, I am yours.”
He is a beast of nightmares, a plague set upon the world, a ruinous omen of death, your immortal Vampyr; and you are safe in his hold. For he loves you and needs you too greatly to cause you any harm– an affection that contradicts his nature, but what a welcome contradiction it is.
When you meet his gaze once more, his eyes burn with desire; it has been an agony, truly, to have such carnal desire for you all these centuries. And he could do naught with his desires but wait– wait for the day you would return to this world, and pray that your body and soul would still sing for him the way it once had.
Hyunjin could have taken concubines, could’ve shared his castle with any great number of men or women– but they would not have been you. None can sate him the way you can, none can spread such flames of passion through his icy veins, none can make his eternally still heart feel as if it beats. It is not a vain promise when he says you are the only one for him– he means it with every fiber of his immortal being.
Your heart and soul, now free from their sepulchre, burn with need. He can hear the erratic thump of your heart, the blood rushing through your veins, can smell the arousal pooling between your legs. You desire him, just as he desires you– and he decides then that the time is right; there is no need to be cautious and careful with his affections.
You want him, and he wants you– and you will have each other, now and forever.
Hyunjin kisses you once more, hungry and urgent. He pulls your body flush to his own, holds you tightly as the wind rolls quickly past you. You realize, when you pull away to catch a breath, that your surroundings have shifted. Now in the center of the estate’s hedge maze, he lies you down on the stone bench beneath the grand statue of Mnemosyne.
You shiver against the cold stone, but he warms you with another kiss. His tongue meets your lips as his hand dances around the bottom of your chemise, lifting it up just enough to expose your lower half. His hands find your thighs, the points of his nails digging at the soft flesh as he squeezes you in his palms.
It elicits a needy sound from deep within, one that you almost don’t recognize as your own. You feel the sharp points of his teeth with your tongue, while he spreads your legs apart to make more room for himself between them. He tugs your panties away with haste, and there is no shyness to be had when he separates to look at the way you glisten under the moonlight for him.
He takes a moment to stare, licks his lips before looking back up to meet your eyes. You hold his gaze as he frees his cock from his trousers, swallowing as you look down for just a moment, and then back up to him. You are both eager, it is clear– and he will have neither of you wait any longer; you have both waited long enough.
“I will have you,” Hyunjin repeats as he grabs your hips, lifting your bottom up from the stone bench and aligning you with himself. His thighs support you, while his feet stay firmly planted on the grass and stone below. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he removes one of his hands from your hips, using it to find leverage on the stone as he leans over you.
You can feel his cock pulsing against you, excitement and anticipation building exponentially in your gut. “Mine again,” he whispers as he captures your lips in another kiss, “You are mine, my love.”
He presses inside you as slowly as he can manage to, and you gasp, hands reaching out to cling to his arms. Thick and full, you let out a shuddering moan when his cock is sheathed fully inside your wet heat. He moans with you, the centuries of building need finally melting into the pure bliss he’d been longing for.
But he refuses to rush– his thrusts are slow and fluid, precise and calculated, searching for the spot he knows will bring you utmost euphoria. You let out a high-pitched moan, followed by a curse, when he succeeds; and he smiles before he grits his teeth, determined to bring you to the heights of pleasure.
“Hyunjin, oh, please–” you whimper, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves as he picks up his pace. He wanted to drag it out longer, truly, he did; but the mind is a powerful thing, and even whilst in a dream, the pleasure that you both feel is entirely real.
And how much longer can one who has held centuries of lust and yearning hold back? Especially when the object of his every desire is moaning and begging for him so sweetly?
He could never resist you– not then, and especially not now. And long has he craved to hear his name spill from your lips like this again; so much so that the sound of it sends him into a frenzy.
“Again,” he utters, equal parts desperate plea and urgent demand, “call to me, say my name.” You oblige easily, his name falling from your lips in a tantalizing mantra; and you feel his cock throb violently with each salacious whimper, his every thrust laced with desire and urgency.
He releases his grip on your hip, moving his hand to your center and pressing his thumb on your clit. Your breath catches, eyes rolling back as he rubs your clit in steady, practiced circles.
“Cum for me, my love,” Hyunjin urges; he is on the precipice of release himself, and he needs you to fall apart with him– it is the only way he can truly be satisfied. Your thighs tremble, whimpers broken by harsh breaths; and you let go of his arms, reach up to his face and pull him down into a desperate, needy kiss.
He moans, and if his flesh were mortal, he is sure that goosebumps would’ve risen over every inch of his body. His thrusts lose their fluidity, becoming quick and choppy as he chases the high your body promises him. You clench tighter, toes curling and body quivering as you finally cum, your every moan of pleasure captured by his lips.
His hips still as his own high takes him, his cock fully pressed inside, his cum spurting in long, sticky spurts. Your kisses are breathless, impassioned, but no longer urgent– they are soft promises of love, of eternity together in bliss.
You smile at him when he pulls away, and he looks at you just as tenderly as he had before, stroking your cheek and indulging in the heat it offers his thumb. You’ve never felt so relaxed, happy and at peace– but just then, you feel a sudden jolt.
It is a sign that your consciousness is returning to reality, and you will soon find yourself back in your bed, with the morning light shining on you from your balcony. Hyunjin, an invader in your mind, feels himself being pushed out– for he can not stay by your side beyond the bounds of your dream just yet.
There is fear and uncertainty that peaks within you as you fight to stay asleep just a moment longer– but he is quick to calm you, kissing you one last time before you the sun’s rays shine down on you.
“I will find you again in the waking world, my heart,” he says, squeezing your hand in his before he starts to fade once more into shadow, “this, I promise.”
You rise with a start, blinking rapidly and lingering, unshed tears falling from your eyes as you raise your hand to your heart. Just as expected, it is morning now– the late spring sun is bright and warm, and birds chirp in delight as they welcome the dawn of a new day.
You frown, feeling the erratic thumb of your heart beneath your fingertips as the melancholy claws its way back around you, reminding you that it has not left. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, you realize a short moment later, and for the first time, you blush.
And then you giggle– and the melancholy, though ever present, now has a weaker grasp. You wonder, as you rise from the bed and prepare for your day, how long it will take for Hyunjin to find you. Days, weeks, months?
You hope it is soon– but if it is not, you know what you will do. Every night, when you blow out the candles and fall asleep, you will call to him. You’ll invite him back into your mind, greet him with a soft kiss, and revel in his tender touch.
You will make love, you will smile, and you will talk of the future with greater enthusiasm than you have ever known– for he is your destiny, your truest love, your one and only immortal Vampyr. Ever-eternally.
#skz x reader#hyunjin x reader#skz smut#hyunjin smut#skz fanfic#hyunjin fanfic#skz imagines#hyunjin imagines#skz scenarios#hyunjin scenarios#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune#wanted this to come out sooner but ofc i got a sinus infection kicking my ass on top of everything else lmao#yes this was supposed to be a kinktober fic. yes i'm posting it in january. life just be that way sometimes gfsgsd#but i like this ver of the fic better than my original one so the delay was a blessing in disguise?
471 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tasty - J.JK - Mini (M) —
Pairings : idol! Jk x nepo baby! Reader
Genre : smut, idolverse
Contents/warnings : making out, unprotected sex(yk what to do), nepo baby! Reader, idol! Jk, tasty in busan reference, model! Reader, missionary, fingering if u squint?, oral(fem recieving), pwp
Note : this was kinda rushed. Please don’t expect too much from this. It’s 1:12 am rn huhu i should sleep i have exams💔💔also ive been watching gossip girls all over again. If you find my new characters in my new fics similar to the characters in gg then i probably got inspired. Hdidhudgs i need to sleeppp. scratch that, study actually. Goodluck to me tomorrow, or later…? I’ll be waking up at 4 anyway
Wc : 2k?
As someone new to the modelling industry, I’ll admit, I don’t know much about it. Except for the fact that my mom and dad are both in it, and yeah, maybe their names help. Okay, definitely their names help. They’ve gotten me the brands, the deals, the connections I need. But their advice? Practically useless. I get called ‘nepo baby’ often like it’s some big insult, but honestly? I don’t care.
If I was them, I’d wanna be me too.
this time, I want real advice. Not from my parents, or the people who are just dying to kiss up to me, but from people who actually know what they’re talking about. The real seniors.
The problem?
They’re not exactly the kind of people you can just text for advice. Or… are they?
I’m sitting in the director’s chair during one of my “breaks” (which are so not long enough), watching as he barks orders at the photographers and crew. My phone’s in my hand, and I’m scrolling aimlessly until something catches my eye. It’s a video. An old one. And not just anyone’s video. the exact senior I’ve been thinking about.
Hey, maybe advice isn’t the only thing i’d ask for.
I click on it, my lips curling into a smirk.
“What’s tasty in Busan?” someone asks. I think it’s hoseok? one of the guys in their group. He’s holding a microphone, and Jungkook leans over to whisper something in his ear. Hoseok immediately pulls back, laughing like he’s grossed out. “Jungkookie is weird!” he says dramatically.
Then Jimin jumps in, curious. “What did he say? Tell me too!” He laughs, shaking his head, before leaning into the microphone with this smug little grin. “Everyone… Jungkookie has turned into an adult.”
The camera pans to Jungkook, who’s at his desk, grinning that ridiculous bunny smile of his, looking both shy and pleased with himself.
I can’t help but laugh under my breath. What did he even say? It’s like some inside joke in their fanbase, and honestly, some of the comments on the video are gold. Others?…. Nevermind.
“Okay, Y/N! I think I’ve given you enough of a break,” the director calls out, clapping his hands. “Back to your position, please!”
I roll my eyes, shoving my phone back into my bag as I get up. My four inch heels click sharply against the floor as I walk to the set. It’s exhausting, sure, but if the pictures turn out hot? Worth it.
Still, even after the shoot, that video sticks in my mind.
——
You and your friends, Kayla and Zia, sit at the table, laughing and drinking like it’s the only thing you know how to do. A few hours pass, and predictably, the two of them are completely wasted, while you’re still sitting pretty, your alcohol tolerance saving the night.
“Hey, Y/N and Kay?” Zia slurs out, leaning in way too close and grabbing both your faces in her hands. “Don’t tell Zia I told you guys…” she giggles, already spilling the tea, “but we slept with each other.”
“What??” Kayla suddenly sobers up from the sheer shock, her eyes wide as saucers.
You’re just staring at both of them, blinking in disbelief. “I need more drinks. I don’t have enough brain cells left to process this,” you mutter, grabbing your purse and standing up to head to the bar.
You wobble slightly on your heels? terrible decision for a night like this, but you make it to the counter and sit down on one of the stools, finally giving yourself a moment to breathe.
“Hey, Kook. Truth or dare?” Jimin slurs, clearly a few drinks ahead of Jungkook, who sits there calmly sipping his beer.
“Truth,” Jungkook answers flatly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Ugh, no fun, man.” Jimin groans dramatically, leaning forward.
“Fine. Dare,” Jungkook sighs, tilting his head in annoyance but accepting the challenge anyway.
Jimin smirks, his eyes darting across the bar. Then he spots you, sitting on the stool, ordering drinks, completely unbothered. “I dare you to go up to that girl and buy her a drink.”
Jungkook scoffs, raising an eyebrow. He glances at the table, half the members are already passed out drunk, while Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi look on. With a little smirk, Jungkook sets his drink down and gets up, the air of a challenge written all over him.
“Hey,” a deep voice greets you from beside the bar, nearly making you jump.
You glance up, surprised, and then let your lips curl into a small, amused smirk. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”
Jungkook stares at you, confused. “I’m sorry?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Where’s your cool guy act now?” you tease, your voice dripping with playful mockery.
Jungkook bites his lip, staring at you for a second before shaking his head with a low laugh. “Let me buy you a drink,” he offers, signaling to the bartender.
“No need,” you say smoothly, already taking the drink you’d just ordered. You lift it slightly to emphasize your point.
“Well then… your number?” he tries again, his smile soft and genuine…. or at least i hope it’s genuine.
You raise an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to keep the game going. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.” you say with a wink before turning on your heel and heading back to your table, leaving him behind.
For the next three weeks, Jungkook came to the same bar, at least twice a week, hoping to bump into you again. He played it cool, but let’s be real, it was obvious.… well this day must be his lucky day then.
A week ago
“Calvin Klein, you say?” you hum, admiring yourself in the mirror as you try on the lingerie you’d just picked up. The fit? Perfect. You smirk at your reflection, loving the way it hugs your curves.
“Yes, ma’am,” the stylist calls from outside the fitting room.
“I’m in,” you say with a final glance at yourself, satisfied.
Back to the present.
You sit in the chair on set, scrolling aimlessly on your phone when one of the stylists walks up to you. “Are you aware you’re shooting with a partner today?” she asks casually.
“Uh… no?” You raise an eyebrow, confused.
“Jeon Jungkook, Ms. He’s your partner for this shoot. Did your agent not tell you?”
You blink. “I think…?” You give her a weak smile, but she just rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath as she walks away, loud enough for you to catch.
“Doesn’t even have to try to get the brands, and she doesn’t even know who she’s working with,” the stylist grumbles.
You roll your eyes.
Irrelevant words from an irrelevant person.
Satisfied, you adjust your posture as someone calls you to get into position.
“Well, looks like it’s your lucky day, Jeon,” you whisper into Jungkook’s ear as the two of you move into position for the first shot.
———
“Think you wanna tell me the answer to the ‘what’s tasty in Busan’ question?” I teased, cocking an eyebrow at Jungkook as he kept kissing along my neck, his lips warm and soft but slightly distracted.
He froze for a moment, then leaned back just enough to look at me with a crooked grin. “Omygod, you saw that?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
I shrugged, biting my lip to hide my smirk. “You said it so confidently in that video, like you had it all figured out. So? What’s tasty in there, Jeon Jungkook?”
He burst out laughing, his head falling into the crook of my neck as his shoulders shook. “Oh my god, did you actually see that? That was so embarrassing,” he mumbled between his laughs, his ears turning red as he tried to compose himself.
I grinned wider, running my fingers through his dark hair. “Of course, I saw it. It’s the joke of your fans. So wanna tell me?, or better…. Show me?”
Jungkook raised his head, his laughter fading into a playful glare. “Alright,” he said, his voice lower now, a teasing edge to it. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“I think I’m hilarious,” I shot back, sticking my tongue out at him.
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as his hands slid down to my waist. “You wanna know what’s my answer?” he asked, his tone shifting as his grip tightened slightly, pulling me closer.
I blinked up at him, suddenly aware of the heat in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a sly smirk. “Uh… yeah?”
Jungkook leaned in, his nose brushing against mine as he whispered, “I’ll show you instead.”
Before I could process his words, his lips were on mine, soft but firm, moving with a confidence that made my head spin. His hands slid down to grip the backs of my thighs, and with one smooth motion, he lifted me off the floor like I weighed nothing.
“Jungkook!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck as my legs instinctively locked around his waist. “What are you-”
He cut me off with another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue brushing against mine in a way that made me forget whatever I was about to say. “Still wanna know the answer?” he murmured against my lips, his voice dripping with mischief.
“You’re all questions, are you gonna show or tell me?” I muttered, though the breathlessness in my voice ruined the effect.
He just grinned, carrying me to the bed and laying me down gently, his body hovering over mine. “Oh i will,” he said, his hands already sliding up my thighs, pushing up the hem of my skirt. “But do you think you deserve it?
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep up my usual sass even as heat pooled in my stomach. “Im pretty sure i do”
Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he leaned down to press a kiss just below my jaw, his hands sliding higher up my thighs. “That’s right baby, you do.”
The teasing tone in his voice made my heart race, and when his lips found mine again, any thought of arguing vanished completely.
Jungkook’s lips moved from mine to trail down my neck, his kisses lazy but purposeful, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make me shiver. His hands were everywhere. firm on my thighs, sliding higher as he pushed my legs apart.
“You’re already quiet,” he teased against my skin, his voice warm and teasing, sending a jolt of heat straight through me. “What happened to all that attitude?”
“I still have it,” I shot back, though my voice was already breathless.
He chuckled, his lips moving lower, pressing kisses down my collarbone and along the curve of my chest. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” he said, tugging at the hem of my shirt.
“Don’t act so cocky,” I said, but the challenge fell flat as he yanked my shirt up and off in one quick motion, leaving me exposed in my lace bra. His eyes flicked down, darkening as his tongue swept across his bottom lip.
“You were saying?” he murmured, his hands sliding under me to unclasp my bra before I could even protest. The garment joined my shirt on the floor, and I swallowed hard as his gaze drank me in.
“You’re staring,” I muttered, trying to sound unaffected, but my body betrayed me as my skin burned under his gaze.
“Of course I’m staring,” he said, his voice low and warm. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
My retort died on my lips as he leaned down, his mouth closing over one of my nipples, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud while his hand teased the other. A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it, and I felt his smirk against my skin.
“Still got something to say?” he asked, his voice muffled as he moved to give the same attention to the other side.
I glared down at him, tugging lightly at his hair. “Shut up.”
He laughed softly, lifting his head to look at me. “Make me,” he teased, his hands sliding down to my hips as he tugged at the waistband of my skirt.
I arched an eyebrow, determined not to let him have the upper hand. “What if I don’t want to?”
Jungkook tilted his head, his smirk widening “Then I guess i better take the lead, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with challenge.
He grips my thighs before he yanks my skirt down with one swift motion, his eyes dropping to the soaked lace between my legs.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low, “you’re already dripping, Y/N.”
Before I could snap back, he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and dragged them down, tossing them aside like they didn’t matter. His hands spread my thighs wide, and before i knew it, his mouth was on me
The first swipe of his tongue sent my back arching off the bed, a gasp tearing from my lips. He didn’t tease, instead he went straight for my clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it with maddening precision.
“Jungkook,” I moaned, my hands flying to his hair, tugging at the soft strands as his mouth worked me over.
He groaned against me, the vibration making my legs shake. His tongue slid lower, teasing my entrance before he pushed it inside, fucking me with it while his nose pressed against my clit.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, my hips bucking against his face, but he just tightened his grip on my thighs, holding me down as he ate me like a man starving.
Every flick, every suck, every moan he let out against me drove me closer to the edge. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his lips glistening as he pulled back for a second before diving right back in.
My thighs started to tremble, the tension in my stomach coiling tighter and tighter. “I’m gonna- fuck, Jungkook, don’t stop!” I whimpered, my voice breaking as he sucked my clit hard and slid two fingers into me, curling them perfectly to hit that spot that made me see stars.
“Come for me,” he growled against me, his fingers pounding into me as his mouth stayed relentless on my clit. That was all it took. I shattered, my body shaking as my orgasm crashed over me, his name spilling from my lips in a breathless scream.
He didn’t stop until I was a trembling mess beneath him, my body twitching with aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were slick, and the look in his eyes was pure sin.
“You good?” he asked, smirking as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
I glared at him, still breathless. “Shut up and fuck me.”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he said, already tugging his pants down.
He then kicks off his jeans and boxers in one quick motion, his cock springing free and standing thick and hard. The sight alone made my mouth water, but he wasn’t giving me time to admire it. He was already climbing back over me, one hand gripping my thigh to hook it around his waist as the other lined himself up at my entrance.
“Ready?” he muttered, his voice low and strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him down for a messy, heated kiss. “Do I look like I want to wait?” I bit back.
That was all the permission he needed. With one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, stretching me so perfectly that all I could do was gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine as he stayed there for a moment, letting me adjust. “You’re so tight.”
“Then move,” I breathed out, arching my hips against him, already desperate for more.
Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, but he didn’t tease this time. His hips pulled back, and then he drove forward again, setting a deep, steady rhythm that had me clawing at his back, moaning with every snap of his hips.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he growled, his voice rough as his hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he fucked into me harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
My body was on fire, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me. “Jungkook,” I whimpered, barely able to get the word out as he hit that perfect spot inside me over and over again.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his pace quickening, his teeth scraping against my neck as he kissed and nipped at my skin. “Let me hear you.”
“Jungkook!” I moaned, louder this time, my voice breaking as I felt myself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
“Good girl,” he muttered, his hand sliding down between us to rub at my clit, the added stimulation sending me into a frenzy. “You gonna come for me again?”
“Yes- omygod!! fuck, yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as my entire body tensed, the pressure building until it exploded, my orgasm crashing over me so hard I saw stars.
Jungkook groaned as I clenched around him, his hips faltering for a second before he buried himself deep, his pace turning rough and erratic. “Fuck, baby, I’m close,” he growled, his voice strained as he chased his own release.
“Come inside me,” I whispered, wrapping my legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper. “I want to feel you.”
That was all it took. With a low, guttural moan, Jungkook’s hips slammed against mine one last time, his body tensing as he spilled into me, filling me with heat. He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against mine as we both tried to catch our breath.
“Guess that answers the question,” he finally muttered, a lazy grin spreading across his face.
I frowned up at him. “What question?”
“What you asked me,” he said, smirking as he kissed me again, his lips slow and soft now, as if he didn’t just wrecked me.
“Idiot,” I muttered against his mouth, but I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me.
The next day.
the comments from my new post….. was surely what i expected.
“Is she a whore?”
“That nepo baby once again”
“New boy of the month?”
“Im leaving this fandom”
Surely i did make alot of fans mad, but what can i say? It was indeed tasty
#rispwr#bts#bts x reader#jungkook ff#jungkook#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook fluff#rispwrrants#jungkook x reader
426 notes
·
View notes
Text
operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤
pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader
the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.
genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive
a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x
it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.
grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.
which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.
when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.
you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”
abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”
“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.
“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.
jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.
you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”
jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”
“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”
jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”
you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”
“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.
“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”
you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.
“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.
“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”
“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”
“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.
instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”
you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”
jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”
“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”
“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.
“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”
you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”
this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”
you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”
jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.
“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”
“correct.”
“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.
“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”
“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”
jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”
you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”
he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”
“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”
he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”
“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.
“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”
a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”
“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”
you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”
jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”
“i love you too. good night, baby.”
the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.
again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.
so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.
with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.
at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.
“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”
enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss
sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~
xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️
“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”
he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”
not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.
“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.
“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”
“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”
“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”
jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.
“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”
the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”
jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”
“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”
jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.
JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image
JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept
JAY: I wept.
JAY: Get your facts straight punk
“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”
“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”
jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”
JAY: Me neither
jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”
JAY: Wow
“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.
“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”
jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”
JAY: It’s because I’m here
JAY: I bring the smart ones
JAY: Also can you play chamber 5
“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”
that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.
“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.
“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”
JAY: Junghoon
JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki
JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida
jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”
“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.
“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”
JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j
jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”
JAY: yoar wonny
“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”
JAY: :(((
jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”
“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.
he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.
“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”
he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.
chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”
it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.
“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.
jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.
enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY
myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days
sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight
xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you
jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”
his door slams open.
not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.
“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”
jake blinks up at him. “what?”
another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”
wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.
sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.
your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’
and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.
some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.
an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.
“yuki is calling.”
jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.
a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”
“…yes?”
“there’s a change of plans.”
#sim jaeyun#jake sim#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#jake sim x y/n#sim jaeyun x y/n#sim jaeyun fluff#jake sim fluff#sim jaeyun imagines#jake sim imagines#jake sim fanfic#enhypen fics#enhypen imagines#enha imagines#enhypen#enha
582 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bliss
౨ৎ PAIRING— jeong yunho x reader
౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, established relationship, fem!reader
౨ৎ WARNINGS— very fluffy, yunho’s the best husband
౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 0.9k
౨ৎ SUMMARY— a soft morning with yunho
౨ৎ A/N— i genuinely want this with him :( i hope you enjoy it! feedback is always appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3
You blink your eyes open, letting them adjust to the bright morning sunlight filtering in through the window. The room feels pleasantly warm as you look to your right to see your husband, still sleeping peacefully.
Yunho’s face is flushed with a morning glow, a lock of his dark messy hair falling in front of his eyes as he breathes deeply.
Your breath is almost taken away as you quietly watch him, admiring the way he can still look so ethereal, even after sleeping and rolling around all night.
You’re convinced he’s an angel. There’s no other explanation.
As you look at him, a faint smile grows on your face. Your gaze drops to his hand, resting on the pillow near his head, the size of it making butterflies swim in your stomach.
Gently, you reach out, tracing the lines of his long, slender fingers, before carefully flipping his hand over to trace his palm.
You’ll never get used to the size difference, his whole hand is almost the size of both of yours, but they fit so perfectly together. Like puzzle pieces.
Unable to resist any longer, you reach out, brushing the lock of dark hair off his forehead, listening to him groan softly, stirring, but not waking yet.
Smiling to yourself, you gently trace Yunho’s collarbone before moving up to his jawline, stopping when you reach his lips. They’re parted slightly as he sleeps peacefully, looking smooth and soft. You fight the urge to kiss him right then.
Instead, you gently trace your thumb along his bottom lip, watching as he stirs again, wondering if he’ll finally wake. But he doesn’t, simply snuggling more into the silk pillow.
Deciding you want to see his pretty eyes, you lean in, pressing soft, gentle kisses to his face before moving to his neck. He tilts his head to give you more access unconsciously, probably not even realizing he’s doing it.
After a moment, his eyelids flutter opened and he blinks lazily a few times before he speaks, his voice deep and raspy from sleep. “G’morning, my love.”
“Mm, good morning, handsome,” you smile, pressing one last kiss to his nose as Yunho sleepily grins, the hand that was resting against the pillow lifting to cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing softly against your skin.
“You’re so beautiful.”
His words send butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you feel yourself blush, knowing your cheeks are flushed pink.
Yunho chuckles, the sound rumbling from his chest as he moves his hand to the back of your neck, “You’re so cute when you’re shy, you know that, right?”
“You might have told me a few times,” you respond, your cheeks still colored pink as Yunho smiles softly before gently tugging your head down, until it’s only inches away from his.
“I love waking up to your face,” he whispers, his brown eyes sparkling with devotion.
“Likewise,” you giggle, the butterflies still very much present as you lean down a little closer.
Yunho’s gaze slowly shifts from your eyes to your lips and back again before he speaks, his fingers gently playing with your hair, “I love you, you know that?”
“You might have told me a few times,” you laugh, repeating your words from earlier as Yunho squeezes your neck gently before his hands shift to cupping your face.
“Most wives tell their husbands they love him too, hm?” he tells you cheekily, his thumbs brushing against your skin.
“Oh, they do?” you ask, feigning surprise. “I suppose I should stick to tradition then, huh?”
He nods, his gaze now glued to your lips as he shifts almost imperceptibly closer, “It’d be nice to hear those three pretty words from you, sweetheart.”
“Oh, it would?” you ask teasingly, making his gaze snap up to meet yours again, a hint of a challenge swimming in their dark depths.
“It would,” he replies, his voice husky, with a hint of a possessive growl.
“Whoa, no need for that, baby,” you laugh, smiling, as he rolls his eyes playfully. “I love you, Yunho. So, so, so, so much. More than the whole universe, all the stars and planets and everything, and more than—“
He cuts you off, pulling you down to brush his lips against yours in the softest of kisses, successfully shutting you up, as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his soft lips.
He soon deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours, still gentle and so soft. He holds you as if you’ll break if he doesn’t handle you gently.
It makes you fall harder for him as you respond to his gentle kiss. You pull back for air once before kissing him again, intoxicated by the feeling you’d never felt before kissing him.
No one else compares, and you’re positive they never would.
When he pulls back, breathing a little heavier, his lips now glistening, he smiles, his eyes sparkling, as he boops your nose with his finger. “Bliss looks good on you.”
You laugh, playfully smacking his chest, as he leans in, kissing you one last time, before letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.
Your senses are overwhelmed by the slightly peachy, sweet scent of his body-wash, mixed with his comforting natural scent. It makes you breathe in deeply once again, sighing contentedly as you snuggle into his neck.
“Comfy?” he asks softly, his hands rubbing up and down your back before resting against your lower back as he squeezes you a little closer.
“Mm, very,” you respond, mumbling into his soft skin. “I could live right here forever.”
“Oh, you could?” Yunho chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair. “I wouldn’t mind at all, my love.”
You smile, closing your eyes as you continue breathing in his scent. “Can we stay like this forever?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
#ateez#ateez x reader#atiny#writeblr#yunho x reader#atz#sagewrites#ateez yunho#jeong yunho#angst#ateez fanfic#fluff#ateez wooyoung#ateez seonghwa#ateez jongho#ateez san#ateez yeosang#ateez scenarios#ateez mingi#ateez hongjoong#ateez imagines#ateez fic#fanfics#fanfiction#atz x reader#x reader#viral#fyp#fypage#yunho
588 notes
·
View notes
Note
For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!
[2K Masterlist]
"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."
football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.
warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!
notes: went just a bit overboard rawr
Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you.
It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.
Which only served to entice Taehyun more.
You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly.
Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist.
“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”
Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own.
To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of.
All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days.
So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes.
“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”
“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you.
“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”
You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face.
“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.
“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”
Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.
“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?”
“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.”
Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues.
“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”
“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”
“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?”
He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him.
“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”
Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment.
Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.
“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”
Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint.
“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”
Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along.
“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!”
You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.
“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel.
“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”
Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong.
“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”
“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked.
“Then leave.”
The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”
You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.
“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”
Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.
You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.
His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat.
Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad.
And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.
When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now.
“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”
God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you.
“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.
“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”
You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.
It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body.
“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”
His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.
“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”
Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”
“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most.
If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.
His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.
“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance.
“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing.
“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment.
Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now.
You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away.
The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy.
“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”
You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.
“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”
“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”
Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.
“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.
Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him.
“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”
God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure.
“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”
His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.
“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?”
This… is not what you were expecting from him.
You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying.
But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders.
“You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.
“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”
The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push.
“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out.
“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion.
You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.
“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you.
Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train.
Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding.
“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”
“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”
Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that.
“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”
You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly.
“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly.
With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you.
Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight.
The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.
“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.
It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion.
“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you.
The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.
“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste.
“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”
“Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”
The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after.
When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on.
You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought.
Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle.
“Can I take you out on a date?”
Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)
“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”
Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.
“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”
Your smile drops.
“Just for that, I’m saying no.”
“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.
“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.
“I’ll see you after practice then.”
#txt fanfic#txt fanfiction#txt imagines#txt oneshots#txt ff#txt x reader#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#taehyun smut#taehyun ff#taehyun imagines#taehyun oneshot#taehyun x reader#taehyun fanfic#taehyun fanfiction#[2K event!]#[the mic is yours]#[nsfw]
2K notes
·
View notes