#should i even edit this? SHOULD I? do i want to put myself through that reveal again? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyprfixate · 26 days ago

Text

magnum opus :: [H.H] x reader

read on AO3

summary: you get a call at 3AM from a number you should've blocked ages ago. you subsequently make three mistakes.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

tropes: exes to lovers, artist!hyunjin, artist x muse, grapheme-color and emotional synesthesia, angst-to-smut, post breakup yearning, hurt-comfort kinda

smut warning: semi drunk sex, dry humping, desperate hyunjin (like, very desperate), begging, biting, pussy eating, slow, needy sex, unprotected sex (use condoms ppl), slightly dubious consent at first, vaginal fingering

content warning: hyunjin has a drinking problem, mentions of past arguments and previous toxic behaviors

word count: 10.9k

author's note: this was supposed to be another plotless smut but I couldn't help myself lol. also i did not edit this. if you see typos no you didn't. enjoy!

A sound penetrates your subconscious, worming its way into your dream until you blink awake, eyes dry and not yet used to the darkness of your room. It takes a second to orient yourself, to recognize that the sound is real and coming from your phone. The digital clock by your charger reads 3:24 AM.

Had you been more awake, you would recognize the ringtone, or would have seen the caller ID. This is mistake number one of the night.

You swipe accept on the call, eyes still blurry and thick with sleep. You clear your throat, which proves useless when your words still come out croaky and garbled.

“Hello?”

“Hi, pretty girl.”

It feels like ice has been doused down your spine. You shoot straight up in bed, the hairs at the nape of your neck standing fully at attention.

You know this voice.

It's an entirely unique voice. A voice splattered with colors and textures you can't begin to comprehend. But even if it weren't, you know it would still be etched in your brain forever. Your hand shakes as you pull the phone from your ear to glance at the contact name.

‼️DO NOT ANSWER (Hyunjin)‼️

Oh fuck.

This has to be a dream.

You hear his voice crackle through the speakers one more time, his words unclear with the distance you created. Hyunjin shouldn't be calling you, and you certainly shouldn't have answered. It would be wise to hang up, to block his number like you thought about doing so many times. Instead, when you hear more crackling as he continues speaking, you hold your breath as you put the phone back to your ear.

This is mistake number two.

“-- you there, love?”

You swallow thickly, willing your mind to wake up faster so you can fully comprehend what is happening. You feel like you're floating. Or drowning.

"I didn't expect you to pick up."

Your heart hammers in your chest.

"Are you okay?" You ask after a few beats of silence. It's the only thing you can think to ask.

You hear a deep hum of contentment. “Yeah. Better now.”

The air in the room suddenly feels too cold. You should hang up. You need to hang up. But your fingers refuse to uncurl from the death grip you have on your phone. “Why… why are you calling me?”

You hear the distant sounds of the city on his end of the line, padded by his breathing. It sounds labored. Manual, like he's reminding himself every so often to inhale and exhale, too busy chasing a fading feeling. You could recognize that specific pattern of his breath anywhere. You close your eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

"Are you drunk?"

"No," he murmurs. "Maybe. I don't know."

That translates to a yes.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers. This is why you don't answer his calls. This is why you should've blocked him months ago. You feel the tension of the moment fizzle into nothing but annoyance. "It's four in the morning. Why did you call me?"

Hyunjin lets out a soft whine, his breath picking up.

"I miss you."

His words land like a punch to your chest, knocking the wind out of you. A simple string of words in that pitiful, whining tone of his, and you already feel like putty in his hands.

You hate this. You hate him.

You want to scream at him. Tell him that this is bullshit. He's bullshit. That you've been trying so hard to stay away from him. But your heart is pounding so hard that you can feel it in your throat.

"No you don't,” you decide to be civil. “You're just drunk."

"But I know what I'm saying."

The civility only lasts so long. “Oh, fuck off," you breathe. There is no real power behind it, but it's better than nothing. "Don't say stuff like that."

He starts to speak, but a nearby train cuts him off. You think about taking the opportunity to hang up, but as much as you don't want to hear what he says next, you're powerless to stop yourself from listening.

"I missed your voice so much, pretty girl." The laziness of his tongue makes the words sound like something entirely new. "I missed hearing you say my name. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you say my name? Please?"

His words are slurred and heavy. You shouldn't be entertaining this. He won't remember this conversation in the morning, too busy with his extravagant artist lifestyle and the swarms of other girls that want his attention. You'll be a distant memory floating around his hippocampus with nothing to tether to, like an itch he will never find.

"Why?"

He lets out a shaky breath, the undercurrent of a whine coating his tone. "Please, baby." The desperation in his voice fills your chest and makes it squeeze tight. "Say it for me?"

You are weak to his voice, but the distant, angrier part of you refuses to let it affect you. He doesn't get to just call you in the middle of the night and ask you to talk to him. Not when he's had months to do that and hasn't bothered.

"No."

You hear him swallow thickly, a slight shift in his breathing as he lets out a short, humorless laugh. You wait for him to speak again, but you're met with nothing but silence. It stretches long enough that you wonder if he hung up, but then—

"I miss you so much, angel."

Six words.

It's only six words, but they hurt worse than anything else he could've said to you. You don't know if it's because you think he doesn't mean them, or because you hope that he does.

Regardless, emotion swells so quickly in your chest, you feel like you're going to be sick. You can't do this. You can't keep letting him do this to you.

"I have to go," you say finally, voice trembling.

"Don't hang up." He sounds panicked. "Please don't hang up. I need to hear your voice."

Your face feels hot, the back of your nose beginning to burn. You will not let him hear you cry. "No, Hy–” You stop yourself. “I can't do this with you anymore."

"Please, baby. Please. I need you. I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you."

That damned phrase again. Your breath stutters in your chest, words coming out softer than you intend. "You don't mean that."

"I do, pretty girl. I promise."

You shake your head as if he could see you. You wish he could see you through the phone— to see what exactly he's done to you, how he destroyed you. You know he doesn't mean any of this, that they're just the chosen lies from tonight's bottle of vodka.

There's shuffling on the line for a second. Then—

"Can I see you. Please?"

You close your eyes, the tears you tried so hard to fight spilling over and sliding down your face until they make fat plopping noises on your sheets. No. He can't see you. You can't do this with him anymore. You need to hang up. This has to stop.

"Okay."

And this is your final, biggest mistake.

—

You're not sure why, but you don't believe he'll actually show up.

You've played this game with him before, right after the two of you broke up. You remember the anxious anticipation whirling in your stomach while you waited for him one night, and how the first rays of the sunrise curdled it in your stomach. You suppose his way with words was what made him a good artist anyway—there is no surprise there.

So when you hear two raps at your front door, there is some surprise there.

You wipe the tears from your face quickly, running a hand through your hair and praying it isn't as wild as it feels. You glance in the mirror by your front door, giving yourself a once-over to make sure you're presentable enough, but you shake your head and stop yourself. It's not like he hasn't seen you at your worst before.

When you open the door, Hyunjin is standing in front of you, illuminated only by the soft glow of the street lamps on your block. He looks exhausted.

"Hi, angel."

You blink slowly, suddenly regretting every decision that brought you to this moment.

"You're here."

He smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "You look tired. Did I wake you up?"

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his question, stepping aside to let him in. "Yes. It's four in the morning. Obviously you did."

He has the decency to at least look sheepish as he stumbles past you, looking around your apartment with a faraway expression on his face. You can smell the alcohol on him. It makes you incredibly dizzy.

He toes his shoes off and you watch him quietly, something stirring in your chest. He remembers. You didn't have to remind him about the no-shoe rule.

The realization sends a course of emotion through you that you cannot parse, so instead, you choose to focus on shutting and locking the door behind you.

It's been a full six months since Hyunjin has been in your apartment. It may not be that long in the grand scheme of things, but the two of you used to spend almost every waking moment together, especially when you were dating. You had grown accustomed to having him around so much, his absence left an aching hole in your life, your home, your bed.

When you gain the courage to turn around, you see that he's standing at the threshold of your living room. Hyunjin looks like he belongs here, yet somehow he also doesn't. This isn't the same Hyunjin from your final weeks together—the one that you screamed at until you couldn't breathe. This isn't the same Hyunjin that, in the middle of your last fight, pressed himself against the front door, caging you in your own apartment while you cried and begged him to let you leave.

That Hyunjin was different. He had meticulously styled hair and sunglasses that cost more than your rent. He was swimming in his quick rise to success, riding the wave and content to let you drown under him.

You look at present-Hyunjin, who's now peeling off the hood of his oversized sweater. There are no sunglasses. no neatly styled hair. They are replaced by a blonde buzzcut, and watery, red eyes that cannot stay focused.

It would be easy to see him as a stranger, an intrusion, but you can't. It just feels like he's come home.

You're staring for so long, you don't realize until he looks over at you from his awkward stance by the couch.

"Are you gonna come over here?"

You take a few steps toward him, but not too close. You are a flame and he is a gas leak. You will both explode on contact.

You choose, instead, to play offense. "What are you doing here?"

He looks around your living room, fingers twitching like they're begging for something to hold. He won't meet your gaze. After a bit, he lets out a deep exhale.

"I don't know."

"Why did you call me?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know anything?”

He glances at you, his already watery eyes looking dejected and tearful, and your heart stutters in your chest. You wish you could hold steady to your hate for him. Sometimes it slips through your fingers like sand, leaving you scrambling to catch the pieces. Other times it's solid as glass. You wish it was always like that. You want to shove it in his face and let him suffocate under the weight of it.

But that look. The tears, the pain. You recognize it. It's a mirror of the same look you gave him when he broke up with you: heartbreak, rejection, confusion.

You can't do this. You're going to cry. Or pass out. He shouldn't have come.

You open your mouth to say just that when he turns fully toward you, closing the gap a bit more. He's always towered over you– he's six feet tall and you're barely 5’1 on a good day– yet you find the intrusion surprising for a moment. You trail your sight all the way up to gaze into those red, unfocused eyes.

"You never say my name anymore," he says, the slur in his speech making a subtle appearance. He's wobbly on his feet. "Never on the phone, and not once since I've been here. Why?"

The question takes you by surprise. "What?"

"My name," he presses. He takes a step toward you, his presence pushing you one step back. "Why don't you say it anymore?"

You take another step back as he advances. You're not scared of him, you never could be, but the closer he gets the faster your heart beats. He's staring at you with an intensity you've never seen before, not even when you were together.

"I don't know," you echo. The lie is bitter in your mouth.

"Yes you do." He looks at you with those unfocused eyes, hurt flashing across his features. He takes another step. "You do know. You used to say it all the time, like my name was..." He trails off, his fingers twitching at his sides again, like he's trying to grasp something invisible. "Like it was yours."

You take a final step back, your spine hitting the wall. Hyunjin doesn't stop until he's a single step away from you, his chest so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"Don't,” you warn.

"Say it," he pleads. His hands are shaking, and you're beginning to recognize that it's not the effects of the alcohol, but a raw desperation. He's literally shaking with need. "Please. Just once."

You exhale slowly through your nose, willing your anger to come to the forefront. You feel the start of it in your bones, boiling hot and ready to lash out.“Why would I say it now? You only listened when it was convenient for you.”

His brow furrows, confusion warring with the lingering haze of alcohol. "What are you talking about?"

The words feel hot like bile in your stomach, the heat of your anger boiling everything in you. He's too close. You're getting too angry. You should stop now, kick him out and block his number.

But Hyunjin closes the gap, his shaking hand reaching to cup your face. He barely connects with your skin before you feel the explosion.

"Don't touch me," you bark, jerking away from his hand. The hurt that flashes across his face only fuels your anger more. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to-- to come here, drunk and desperate, pretending like you care about what my voice means to you–"

"I do care," he insists, his voice cracking. "I've always—"

"No, you don't," The words tear from your throat, sharp and raw. You put both hands on his chest and shove him away from you with all of your strength. He stumbles back, but he's still not far enough.

"You stopped caring the minute that painting made you famous. The minute everyone wanted to know about the hot new painter with synesthesia and raw talent.”

It’s the first time you've said the words out loud. They taste like acid on your lips, and you hate that, but not more than how much you hate the way your eyes burn with tears.

You let the weight of your words settle between the two of you like a boulder in the ocean. You watch as Hyunjin grimaces, and internal war showing on his face before he lets out a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face and turning to take several steps away from you.

You don't want to feel bad for him. He deserves this. He deserves every ounce of pain you're feeling.

You remember that conversation you had over a year ago, tangled in his messy sheets with your head on his bare chest. Your relationship was still new, still tender. The honeymoon phase seemed neverending.

As you laid there, his heartbeat was, at first, a steady pulse against your ear, but the longer you two basked in the afterglow, the faster it got.

You remember sitting up after a minute, hands cupping his face in concern. "What is it, Hyun?"

"I... I have something to tell you," he murmured.

He told you about his synesthesia, how it was his inspiration for pursuing art, but also an insecurity he struggled to coexist with. You listened to him, comforted him, encouraged him, loved him. Told him how amazing he was and how every little quirk of his just made him better.

A few months later, he was kissing you awake and saying he had a surprise for you. When you walked into his living room, you saw the most gorgeous painting you'd ever seen-- a canvas segmented into 4 sections, each section similar in their subject but distinct in composition.

"It's, uh. It's you," he explained, ears burning red at the tips. "Not a portrait of you, but this is how it looks when you say my name. When you're sleepy, when you're laughing, when you're upset with me, and when you... when we--"

He didn't need to finish his sentence. You knew.

It was you that encouraged him to submit it to a contest a couple weeks after that. It was you who picked out his outfit for his first gallery showing. It was you who said his name over and over the night after while he showed you just how he got the inspiration for that last panel.

And yet.

"You cast me aside."

You wipe at the tears that have traitorously slipped from your eyes. "I was behind you through all of that, and then you let the sounds of the attention you got become louder than me. I didn't mean anything to you anymore."

Silence stretches between you like a chasm. Hyunjin's shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath, his back still turned to you. The air in the apartment feels suffocating, thick with everything that's been said and has yet to be said.

You don't even know why you're doing this, why you're bothering to explain anything to him when he's drunk. It'll be gone from his mind in the morning, and then what will have been the point?

You close your eyes and let your head thud against the wall. “Look. You should–”

"I never meant to make you feel invisible," he says.

You take a steadying breath.

He carries on, his voice rough in the silence. "It was intoxicating. The praise, the intrigue, the attention-- I was seeing so many colors and shapes I'd never seen before. I'd never had so many people find it– find me interesting. Or worth something.

Your voice is small. “You had me.”

He turns back to you. There are tears streaked on his face, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes makes your heart twist in your chest. “I know. But I got lost in it– in the attention. I was drowning in so many colors that meant nothing because they weren't yours. But I didn't realize that until you weren't around anymore."

You want to stay angry. You want to hold onto the hurt that's kept you safe these past months. But seeing him like this— almost as broken as you'd been feeling —cracks something open inside of you.

"Do you know what the worst part is?” At his silence, you continue. “I was, and still am, so proud of you.” Your voice is quieter now, more tired than angry. "Even when it hurt, even when it felt like you used me. I was proud."

Hyunjin opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his lips. You watch him swallow, hard, the deliberate bob of his Adam's apple catching your gaze. In everything he does, he looks like art. It's maddening.

He clears his throat, finally finding his voice. "Can I... can I show you something?"

You narrow your eyes at him, confused. "What?"

He fidgets in his spot for a second before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. After a moment of scrolling, he turns the screen toward you. It's a photo of a canvas—clearly a work in progress, layers of color bleeding into each other in abstract patterns.

"I've been trying to paint again," he says softly. "Ever since we broke up. But nothing's been working. The colors are wrong. Dead."

He flicks to the next picture. It's a similarly unfinished painting. "It gets easier to ignore how wrong they look after a few shots. Sometimes they move around like before. But it never lasts, because it's not you.”

The confession hangs in the air between the two of you. Unlike the heaviness of your earlier words, Hyunjin's float above you two like a balloon, hoisting the last of your irritation away with it. You see the truth of his words in the muddy browns and grays that dominate the canvas, so different from the vibrant explosions of his earlier work. It feels, painfully, like he's lost a piece of his soul.

You can't look at it anymore. You glance up at him instead.

He looks more nervous now than he did when you opened the door. It reminds you of your first ever date, and how he tried to hide his nerves with a devastating smile and charm. The memory chips at a hardened part of your heart.

You've missed him.

You've been so, so tired of missing him.

"Why did you come here,” you breathe. The question is softer this time. More genuine.

He puts his phone back in his pocket, gaze locked on you. Beneath the haze of whatever buzz he still has, you see a glimpse of your Hyunjin, the one who made you laugh so he could paint the bright yellow rays of sunshine that exploded in his vision. The one who left you sketches of your sleeping form if he had to leave before you woke up.

The one who thought the smallest pieces of you were his magnum opus.

Perhaps that's why, when he takes a step closer, you don't move away this time.

"Because I'm selfish," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because I miss you. Because I need to see it again– to feel it. Even if it's the last time."

He takes another step, the height of him caging you against the wall. His eyes search yours, desperate and hungry. "Please, angel. I am begging you. Say my name. Let me see it again."

The request vibrates through you, from the tips of your ears down to your toes. It's maddening how easily he can awaken something you've tried so hard to bury.

You know this is dangerous territory—that giving in now could shatter you all over again.

But his proximity is intoxicating, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. Your body remembers what your mind wants to forget—the way he used to worship you, the way your voice could bring him to his knees in more ways than one.

"This doesn't fix anything," you whisper, even as you feel yourself weakening.

"I know," he breathes, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, can smell the lingering alcohol on him. "But God, I miss you. I miss the way you light up my world."

Your back presses against the wall as he crowds into your space, not touching, but close enough that the air between you crackles with tension. He puts his hands on either side of your head, caging you in so that all you can look at is him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with need and something deeper, more desperate.

"Say it, pretty girl."

You let his voice be the final push over the edge.

"Hyunjin," you breathe, and you watch as his entire body shudders in response.

His eyes flutter shut, plush lips parting slightly as a soft moan slips out. He's trembling now, hands twitching on the wall near your head as though still fighting the urge to touch you. "Again."

"Hyunjin," you repeat. Your voice is stronger now. Your heart is racing, stomach twisting with nerves and desire. It's been so long since you've said his name like this, and the effect it has on him is beyond intoxicating.

He whimpers, leaning in closer until his forehead rests against yours. "Fuck, I missed that," he murmurs. His breath is hot against your skin. You feel the brush of his low cut hair against your forehead. "I've never seen it like this before. Please, baby. Again. I need more."

The desperation in his voice makes you weak, and you find yourself sliding your hands up, up, up, until your fingers curl into his fuzz, tugging gently at the wisps of hair at the base of his skull. The reaction is immediate—Hyunjin grunts, low and guttural, his hips bucking forward against yours.

"Again," he pants. "Please. Please."

You drag your nails along his scalp, pulling another groan from deep within. You brush your noses together.

"My Hyunjin," you whisper, right against his lips.

He surges forward, crushing his mouth to yours in a hot, bruising kiss. You cling to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as he licks into your mouth. It's wet, messy, and desperate-- a clash of teeth and tongue that leaves you both breathless. You can't remember the last time anyone has kissed you this hard, this passionately—like he's trying to crawl inside you and never come back out.

He tastes like vodka and cheap beer, but underneath that is something that is so innately Hyunjin that you feel yourself melting, giving in to his touch and his mouth and his greedy hands. He shifts, slotting a thigh between your legs and flexing up into you. It pulls a moan from your throat that he swallows hungrily.

"Can I touch you?" He breathes his words right into your mouth.

You don’t hesitate. "Yes. Hyun, please."

His hands drop from the wall to the curve of your waist, sliding down until he has a bruising grip on your hips. His movements aren't as clumsy as you expect, but there's a hesitancy and nervousness that makes everything more enticing.

He uses his grip on your hips to grind you against his thigh. His movements are slow, deliberate. Your bodies are pressed flush together, his mouth still on yours, kissing you like you're the only thing keeping him on this plane of existence.

He bites down on your bottom lip and you whine his name right into his mouth. He hisses out a strangled sound before he breaks away, trailing hot kisses down your jaw, the column of your throat, and sucking a bruise into the soft, sensitive skin behind your ear. You're a mess of moans and whines and incoherent, half-finished sentences.

"God, you sound so fucking good," he murmurs into your neck. "Missed that too. Missed how pretty you sound for me.” He nips at your earlobe. “C'mon. Sing for me, angel."

He presses his thigh up into you more, the friction sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. You feel the length of him, hard heavy and hot, through his sweatpants. You dig your nails into his shoulders, a shuddering breath escaping you.

"Oh. Fuck, Hyunjin."

His hips buck involuntarily, a grunt slipping from him. He kisses his way back to your mouth. "That's it, my love. That's it."

"Hyunie." You're panting into his mouth now, words coming out in broken gasps. It's overwhelming, all the sensations– his hands, his mouth, his thigh. You try to hold back your next words, but the building pressure in your stomach disintegrates the barriers in your brain. They come pouring out before you can stop yourself.

"I missed you so much.”

The confession seems to do something to him. He curses and ruts up against your leg, chasing the contact, the friction. You're both breathing heavily, the space between you nonexistent, moving with a practiced ease that's only born from being familiar with each other. He knows your body like he knows art, like it's a medium for him to mold and shape into whatever he wants.

"Wanna paint you," he huffs out when you moan again. He drags his teeth along the length of your throat. "Want you to see the colors you make for me."

“Tell me.” You drag your nails along the nape of his neck. “What does it look like?”

He moves his thigh up, the sharp movement making you gasp and drop your head onto his shoulder.

"That," he pants, "That one is white. Soft on the edges like feathers. It feels like cotton in my ears."

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his hips rutting against you with urgency. You can't help the moan that slips past your lips, and you swear his grip tightens, his breath hitching.

"Fuck," he breathes. "And that-- that one is hot. It's like rich red. Like the sun. It tastes sweet. Tastes like you.”

You whine into his neck, the combination of his words and the movement of his thigh making the heat coil tightly in your core. You're so close, right at the edge of your orgasm. You know you should stop-- that this is a dangerous line you're crossing-- but your body aches for him in a way it never will for anyone else.

"Come on. Cum for me, angel.” His voice is ragged, raw. "I wanna see it. Let me see it, please."

And, well, you have never been able to deny him anything.

You tip over the edge, pleasure shooting through your body like a spark. Your orgasm hits you so hard that your vision goes white around the edges, a broken cry of his name spilling from your lips.

Hyunjin groans and ruts against you harder, faster. "Fuck, yes, that's it. Just like that, baby."

He kisses you again, swallowing up every noise you make while he lets you grind your way through the aftershocks. His hands roam their way around your body, his nimble fingers slipping under your shirt to trace patterns on your skin.

You come down slowly, breathing hard into his mouth. When he's sure you've ridden out the last of your orgasm, he pulls back, eyes glassy and still a bit unfocused. His gaze is locked on yours as he slides his hands down your body, slipping a hand into the waistband of your shorts and moving to cup your ass in both hands.

Some of your wits return to you. You find the hairs at the nape of his neck again, dragging your nails against him gently. "Hyun," you breathe. "Hyun, you're drunk. We should stop."

"No," he whines. There's no aggression in his movements, just pure want. He tugs at your ass again, pressing his hips into yours. "Please, baby. I need to feel you."

He leans forward again, kissing down your jaw to your neck. The brush of his buzzcut against your face makes you shiver, but you don't pull away. Instead, you press a kiss to his temple, then another, and another, until you're kissing the shell of his ear.

"You'll change your mind in the morning," you murmur. The thought doesn't sting like you thought it would. It just seems like a fact. “Let's stop now.”

It takes some effort, but you manage to gently untangle yourself from him. You put a hand on his chest, not exactly pushing him but enough to signal a need for distance between you. He relents easily, stepping back and giving you space to breathe.

You take the opportunity to stare at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him: frazzled hair, blown-out pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and an erection straining painfully against his sweatpants. It's a sight that has your body singing for him all over again.

He looks lost. Desperate. Like you're the only thing keeping him together. Yesterday, you would balk at the thought of that, but now it makes your heart soften in your chest. You try to remember a time when you weren't weak for this man and come up short.

You sigh and reach out, resting your hand on his arm, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin. "Come on, Hyunie," you murmur. "You obviously can't go home. Let's get you to bed."

He follows you down the hallway to your bedroom like a lost puppy, fingers loosely tangled with yours. When you flick on the bedside lamp, the soft glow illuminates the space that used to be so familiar to him. He stands there, awkward, until you turn down the comforter and sit on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to you.

"Do you want me to sleep here?" he asks, his voice small.

You nod. "I'll take the couch."

His hand tightens around yours immediately. "No." His voice is small, fragile. "Stay. Please."

You close your eyes, summoning strength from somewhere deep inside you. "Hyunjin, I don't think—"

"I won't touch you," he rushes to say, desperation creeping back into his tone. "I promise. I just... I can't be alone right now. Please don't make me be alone."

The plea strikes something painful in your chest. You've spent months trying to convince yourself that Hyunjin was fine without you—thriving, even. That he'd moved on to bigger, better things. But the man standing before you now, with bloodshot eyes and trembling hands, is far from fine.

"Okay," you relent, because you're weak and tired and overwhelmed from the events of tonight.

When he slides under the blanket, there's a safe distance between you. Not as vast as it's been the past six months, but a tangible space nonetheless. You lie there on your side, staring at him, wondering if this is what it feels like to drown. He stares back at you, and you watch the redness of his eyes dissipate, his body relaxing under the weight of your gaze. You can't even find it in you to be angry, but you try. You really do.

He looks at you with those glassy eyes and a soft smile. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.

You feel the anger slip through your fingers.

"You're drunk," you whisper back.

"I know."

You're not sure who moves first, but you find yourself closing the distance between you, your head tucked under his chin and your arm slung over his torso. He's warm and solid beneath you, and you find yourself melting into his embrace.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can hear the steady beat of his heart in his chest. You close your eyes, focusing on the rhythm, letting it lull you to sleep.

"Goodnight, pretty girl," he murmurs.

You're asleep before you can respond.

—

Sunlight filters through your curtains, painting warm stripes across your face. You stir, your consciousness returning to you in fragmented pieces. The first thing you register is the coolness of the sheets next to you. The second is the ache in your chest.

You open your eyes, staring at the empty space where Hyunjin had been.

Had.

He's gone.

The pillow still bears the impression of his head, the ghost of his presence lingering in the sheets in the form of his expensive cologne. You reach out, rubbing a bit of the sheet between your fingers, finding it cold to the touch.

Of course he left. What were you expecting?

You're not sure how long you lie there, staring at the ceiling, but it's long enough for the tears to come. They slip down the sides of your face and into your hair, leaving wet stains on the pillow as everything from last night comes back to you: the desperation of his voice on the phone, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his breath hot on your neck as he begged and pleaded for you to bathe his world in color again. It all felt real, so urgent in the midnight hour.

But morning has a wicked way of washing everything clean, the sober light revealing every mistake in detail.

You wish you could be angry. You wish you could feel anything other than the pain that's splitting your chest in two. You wish you could hate him.

You press the heels of your palms against your eyes in an attempt to stall the tears before they get worse. This is exactly why you should've blocked him, why you shouldn't have let him in or slept beside him like nothing changed between the two of you.

"Stupid," You murmur. "I'm so fucking stupid."

A familiar weight settles in your gut, the same one your carried for weeks when he first left-- a noxious mix of anger, embarrassment, and grief. You thought you'd finally shed it, but here it is again, through no fault but your own.

You drop your hands from your face and glance at the clock, which tells you it's a bit past 11am. He's back at his fancy apartment by now, already forgetting the things he whispered in your skin. You let out a humorless snort, imagining that he's painting, finally able to put colors together properly after using you for inspiration.

You're about to drag your pity party to the kitchen when you hear it-- the faint squeak of your bathroom sink turning on.

Your eyes snap in that direction instantly. For a moment, you don’t hear anything else. Then–

Splashing. Someone is washing their face.

He stayed.

You freeze, heart suddenly pounding against your chest. You can hear the water continuing to slosh around for a second, then it shuts off.

More silence, just for a second, then the unmistakable padding of feet on tile.

The en suite door swings open. Hyunjin materializes in the door frame wearing the same clothes from last night. His hair catches the morning light like a halo and his face is freshly washed. His eyes are no longer glassy, even though they're rimmed with the telltale shadows of a hangover. When he sees you sitting up in bed, he pauses, hovering in the doorway as though he's unsure if he's still allowed in.

The two of you hold eye contact for a moment. It feels like forever, but you know it can't be more than a second or two. It doesn't matter how long, really. It's still too long. Long enough to make the ache inside you bloom until your entire chest is suffocating under its weight. Long enough to realize how much you still want him and need to keep him in this space that was once yours and his. Long enough to want to reach out across time and space and mold his edges into something that belongs solely to you—that only you can recognize. Something different and yet exactly the same.

"Hi," he says.

The breath is knocked out of you all at once.

"You're still here," you breathe. You feel a new wave of tears behind your eyes. You think it might be from relief.

Something flashes across his face quickly-- hurt, maybe, or understanding. "Yeah." His voice is soft. "I told you I wouldn't leave again."

Did he say that? You don't remember. You can't exactly think over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

The words hang in the air anyway, a fragile bridge stretching across the space between you. It feels precarious, like one wrong move will send all of it crashing down. You scan his face for any hint of deception, for a flicker of the old Hyunjin that prioritized his rising fame over you. But all you find is a raw sincerity that mirrors the ache in your own chest.

He takes a hesitant step into the room, then another, like he's waiting for you to change your mind and kick him out. You don't. You just sit there, heart thrumming against your ribs, watching as he drifts closer until he's standing at edge of the bed. There's barely any space separating you two, yet everything still feels so far away.

"Last night," he starts. He clears his throat, fighting against the tremble in his voice and hands. "It was a mess. I was a mess, I know."

You wait, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

"But even in the middle of all of that... I need you to know I meant it. Every word, angel. I still do."

Something swells inside of you, the pain making way for something soft and tender. It's overwhelming, but the good kind. The kind that makes you feel light and free.

"Do you?" Your voice is so quiet, you're not sure if he hears you. But he does, because his gaze softens, eyes never leaving yours.

Hyunjin lowers himself to the ground, situating himself on his knees so the two of you are eye level. He reaches a hand out, his long, slender fingers making their way across the space, gently cupping the curve of your jaw. You close your eyes, holding your breath while you bask in the way his skin makes contact with yours. The air around you feels like it might come alive. As you lean into the warmth of his palm, the ache in your chest begins to fade bit by bit.

"Yeah. I do," he whispers. His voice is thick.

There are a million things you want to say, yet the only thing you can force out is: "Why?"

He brushes his thumb along the rise of your cheekbone, the gesture tender and familiar. It's almost like he never left, like no time has passed between the two of you. He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it, like the words are getting stuck in his throat.

"Can I show you?"

The question sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow and nod.

His eyes flicker down to your lips, the hunger evident in his gaze. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours and breathing you in. His breath tickles your nose, the scent of your toothpaste mixing with the smell of his sweater.

"Are you sure?" he whispers.

You answer him by closing the gap.

Unlike the kiss from last night, this one is slow, measured. You pour everything you've wanted to say since he left into it, and he returns it tenfold. He kisses you with a passion that threatens to consume, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly, tongue sweeping out to lick at your bottom lip. You part for him immediately, the taste of him igniting the dormant fire inside you.

Hyunjin kisses you like a starving man. You give him everything he needs, letting him map your mouth with his tongue, moaning into the heat of his kiss. You feel it everywhere, the heat coiling low in your belly and spreading throughout your limbs. It feels like a revelation, and the way his grip tightens tells you that he feels it too.

"Say it, please baby," he breathes. The desperation from last night is creeping back in. His hand leaves your cheek, trailing down the length of your neck to your collarbone. He curls his hand into the neck of your shirt and tugs it down to expose your skin, dipping down to wash his tongue across your collarbones. You're already shaking before he even nips at your skin.

"Hyunjin," you moan. The sound makes him grunt against you, low and needy.

His mouth is on yours again, bruising, like he wants to drown in the taste of you. You sink your fingers into his hair, pulling gently and feeling his body shudder in response. He adjusts his positions on his knees, tugging you closer to him so your hips are flush against his chest. The heat of his feverish skin burns you through the thin fabric of your night clothes.

"Again, angel," he pleads, mouthing his way over your shirt, down to your breasts, hands trailing up your bare thighs and gripping hard. You let out a little whimper, head falling back as you thread your fingers in the wisps of his hair, holding on for dear life. He doesn't stop. The mixture of his mouth and his hands has your mind hazy and unfocused.

"Hyunjin. Hyun, please." You feel him shudder at that, his mouth kissing lower, lower, lower. When he reaches the hem of your shit, he grips it in his teeth and pulls it up, tongue darting out to run a stripe across your belly button. You pant and squirm, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin through his sweatshirt.

He nips at your stomach and you cry out his name, the sound breaking through the space like a firecracker. Hyunjin's hips buck up against the bed as his mouth finds your hip bone, sinking his teeth into the tender skin. Your back arches, legs clamping around his torso. His grip is bruising and you really hope he leaves a mark, that there are traces of him on you long after you're finished. You want him to burn himself into your skin so you never forget this again.

He's pressing sloppy kisses over the skin he's just bitten, murmuring a mixture of words you can't decipher. The sound is muffled against your skin, but you don't miss the way he says "angel" over and over again, the way his lips form your name against your body like it's a prayer, and he is the sole saint who has come to worship at your altar.

He shifts his mouth back to the waistband of your shorts, his big, blown out eyes fluttering open to stare at you in question. The look you give him is all he needs to peel off the fabric, slowly, teasingly, tossing them away and letting his fingers trail the newly exposed skin. His touch is hot on your legs, trailing up and down until you're panting for him.

"So perfect for me, pretty girl," he praises, his lips ghosting over your hips. Your brain feels like mush, like his praise is the only thing that exists anymore. You watch his long, perfect fingers slide up the expanse of your thigh until he reaches your heat, pushing your lips apart to reveal your aching cunt to him. His touch is so featherlight that it has your hips bucking up, trying to get more.

"Be still, love." He presses a kiss to your clit. "Be still for me. Let me worship you, yeah? Can you do that?"

You whine, desperately trying to remain still, to let him explore every inch of your body with his perfect hands, to let him touch and tease you like he needs to.

"That's it, baby," he breathes. His fingers run along the wetness of your cunt. "Look at you. So fucking wet for me, my angel."

He slips his middle finger in with ease, sliding all the way to his knuckle. You barely have a second to adjust to the feeling before he dives down, plump lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard. It sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine so sharp, you can't help the half scream that falls from your lips, your hand shooting out to grab onto his head. He moans in response, letting you grind yourself up into his face. He laps at you like a man possessed, fingers curling deep inside you to press against that one spot he's found countless times before.

The room fills with the wet sounds of your cunt against his eager tongue. His hair is soft under your hand, a contrast to how hard he's fucking his fingers into you. They move with urgency and precision. Each thrust has you panting his name, and in response his moans vibrate through your cunt.

He moves his free hand to grab the one that's gripping his hair and squeezes, fingers curling between yours in a silent show of gratitude for letting him touch you, letting him drown himself in you.

The combination of his touch and the sounds he's making has your stomach coiling, tight like a spring, and your release comes quick and sharp. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, and you call out his name, louder than anything he's ever heard from you before, so loud your voice bounces off the walls. He works you through it, licking up all the wetness that's pouring from you, groaning and growling like a starving man. He slips in a third finger to fuck you through the last of your high and the stretch is so good, so perfect.

His grip on your hand is the only thing that keeps you grounded as the last of the pleasure courses through you, leaving you shaking and trembling against his face. Hyunjin keeps his eyes on you the entire time, watching you like a predator watches prey, pupils blown so wide only a sliver of dark brown peeks out at you. He only pulls away once you stop shuddering, dragging his fingers out of you with a loud, wet noise, slipping them straight into his mouth.

The sight of his plush, pink lips wrapped around those perfect fingers makes you whine and squirm with want, even though you've just been thoroughly fucked out. Hyunjin crawls his way back up your body and kisses you deeply. His lips are wet with you, and he fucks his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You find yourself gripping at the soft hairs on the back of his neck again in an attempt to press him closer. He pulls away slightly to trail sloppy, open mouthed kisses down your jaw, teeth dragging across the hot skin.

"You drive me crazy, pretty girl," he pants. He sucks a bruise into the junction where your throat meets your shoulder. "Every noise you make, it sizzles in my eyes like fire. I see you everywhere."

You drag your nails down his neck and he groans into you. You can feel the impossibly hard length of him pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants. He ruts against your body lazily, his movements sluggish. The post orgasm haze still hangs over your body like a heavy fog, slowing everything down to a sluggish, sensual pace. It's hypnotic and delicious, the feeling of his hardness dragging along your thigh while he peppers kisses along your skin. You know this dance, your bodies know the steps so well it feels like your back at the very beginning again, like no time has passed at all between the two of you.

"Let me have you, please." His voice is tight. His desperation is bleeding into everything, tinging the air between you like an intoxicating drug. It makes your head spin and your skin tingle. He shifts his position so his hips are rutting into yours now, slow, deliberate, and grinding right down into you. You're so wet for him still that there's no resistance in his movements. With your eyes fluttering from the sensation, you drag your fingers across the expanse of his broad shoulders and then down to the dip in his spine, trailing your fingertips up under his sweatshirt to drag across his hot skin. It pulls a shaky whine out of him.

"God, please angel." His cock throbs against you. "I'll make it good for you, so fucking good. Just please let me have you, please."

You tug at his sweater until he relents, breaking away to yank it up over his head, tossing it somewhere in the room. You take the opportunity to look at his chest, which is flushed with color and heaving with want. His lips are parted as he tries to catch his breath, lust-blown eyes staring down at you like you hold all of the secrets to his universe. He's still getting harder in his pants, the fabric stretching taut over his cock, the shape of his length visible beneath it. The sight alone makes you dizzy, and the wetness that has been slowly building inside you reaches a crescendo, your cunt pulsing at the sight before you.

Your hand drifts down between your legs. Your fingers slide easily over the wetness that's gathered there from the pleasure Hyunjin has been so dutifully dishing out to you, and you don't even think about what you're doing. Hyunjin watches, eyes glassy as you dip two fingers in the wet mess he's made of your cunt. You slide them back up to your clit and moan, hips twitching into your own touch. His lips part a fraction, a breathy gasp spilling from him. He looks so painfully hungry that the thought of denying him crosses your mind for the briefest of moments. The thought disappears the second he opens his mouth.

"Baby, please, I need it." He shifts on his knees, squirming and aching for you. You almost don't recognize his voice— it's so raspy and tight with need, words stumbling out of him with no hesitation, no thought. It makes your skin hot all over again. You circle your fingers around your clit as you watch him watch you, his chest heaving in tandem with the movements of your fingers.

Then he makes the prettiest little whine you've ever heard in your entire life.

The sound alone is enough to make you remove your hand and offer your wet fingers to him, his mouth falling open obediently to welcome them in. He swirls his tongue around your fingertips, lapping up any of the wetness he's left on you. He groans and shudders, eyes fluttering shut as he sucks and licks and hums around your fingers. Your brain feels like static and your thighs squeeze together to try and ease the ache inside you.

"Fuck, Hyunjin," you moan out, watching him suck your fingers clean. You try desperately to focus on keeping your hips still, the friction from your bodies moving together making you want to chase your pleasure again.

He moans around your fingers before pulling back, catching the hand you had been using to play with your clit and pulling it up to place a gentle kiss on your palm. He keeps eye contact the entire time, looking at you from under those thick lashes and his hooded eyes. His lips part just enough for the tip of his tongue to lick at your skin, his fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist. It makes your stomach drop. He has you under a spell and he doesn't even need to try.

He nips at your fingertips once more before speaking again, his voice low. "You make it so impossible to see anything other than you," he says, breathless. "Everywhere I turn, everything I see, there you are."

He shifts again, his body moving downwards and slotting itself between your thighs. He uses his free hand to wrestle himself out of his sweatpants and boxers, leaving them to hang low on his hips, cock finally free from their confines and bobbing heavily in the cool air. A shudder runs through him and you can tell it's both from the chill and the feeling of relief that comes from the sudden freedom. Your eyes linger on the head, leaking so prettily for you that it has your cunt squeezing around nothing again.

The hand holding your wrist pushes gently until it has you pinned above your head on the bed, the grip loose enough to not hurt you but strong enough to hold you in place. He reaches down to finally wrap his free hand around himself, stroking the length of his cock as he lets his eyes wander all over your body. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and you're transfixed by the way he lets it run along the swell of his mouth. He's such a pretty, pretty picture like this.

You think he might say something again, but the only sound that fills the space is his soft pants and moans. His strokes on himself once, the slick, wet noises making your brain go fuzzy all over again. Then he stops, leaning forward so he's hovering above you, the tip of his nose mere centimeters from yours. His lips brush against your mouth and his fingers twitch around your wrist, like he wants to let go but can't bear to.

You tilt your chin up to catch his lips, a soft whine bubbling in your throat. Want simmers under your skin so badly that you're a shaking, trembling mess under him. He coos at you in the kiss, and you feel him shift over you, lining himself up with your entrance. He rubs the head of his cock against your slit, gathering the wetness that has dripped out of your pulsing cunt and onto the sheets, using it as lubrication for the tip of his cock to catch on your entrance. Your hips twitch upwards involuntarily, making him break the kiss with a gasp, and you both look down to watch as pushes the head of his cock into you.

"Shit," he whines. It comes out like a hiss, his eyes slipping closed. The feeling of your body welcoming him home has a shudder running up his spine. He releases your hand and uses his elbows to hold himself up over you, fingers burying themselves in the sheets surrounding your head. The tips of his ears are dusted pink, and his mouth is slack as he lets himself be enveloped by the heat of your body. He rests his head in the crook of your neck.

He feels impossibly large inside of you. It has been so long since you've had him this close, it's almost like you forgot how good he can fill you. He shifts and pushes himself a bit further in and you can't help the whimper that tumbles from your mouth. The stretch is so deliciously good that your hips twitch again, body instinctively trying to grind itself onto his length to get him right where you need him. He curses above you again and his grip in the sheets tighten as he nips at your throat.

"Angel," he chokes out. His breath feels boiling hot against your skin. "Please don't move. Not yet, baby. You feel too fucking good."

His voice is strained, tight in his chest like he's barely holding himself back from pounding into you like his body so obviously wants to. The feeling of being stretched by him has you quivering, cunt pulsing around the intrusion. It feels like it takes him forever, but he finally manages to fully slide into you, letting his hips press against yours so you can take the time to adjust to the fullness. His name is a mantra on your lips, the only coherent word your brain is able to conjure right now. He kisses your neck to calm you down, nuzzles his nose against you, licks at the tender skin that has a pulse beating rapidly underneath it.

"So tight, angel," he grunts. His teeth dig into the skin of your neck, sucking another bruise into your skin. "So fucking tight for me."

Your nails are digging into his back now, scratching angry red lines down his shoulder blades as you struggle to breathe beneath him. It feels so good, the way his weight pushes into you and lets you feel every twitch and pulse of his body, lets you feel him shake and quiver. He slides back a bit before pushing into you again, his entire body shaking with the effort it's taking for him to maintain this languid pace. His forehead is pressed against your skin still and his breath comes out hot and shaky as he fucks himself into you again and again, slow and shallow.

The drag of his cock has your toes curling. Your hands slide from his back to his shoulder, down to his biceps, fingers digging into the skin to leave crescents that you can't bring yourself to feel bad about. The heat is pooling in your stomach again, making the feeling in your toes and fingertips start to fizzle away. All that's left is you and Hyunjin. The artist and his muse.

"Hyunie," you breathe. "Hyun."

"I know baby," he grunts. You can feel the drag of his lips on you, leaving kisses against your feverishly hot skin. "I know. I'm here, I'm here."

He picks up the pace then, hips snapping against you to get his cock as deep as it'll go. Your brain has become static, aware of nothing more than the sound of skin slapping against skin, of the wet noises coming from where Hyunjin has returned to his home inside you. You arch your body into his hold and he slips his hand into the curve of your back, pressing you close so that every thrust brings him as close to your heart as he can get.

When he pounds into you particularly hard and you flutter around him, he grunts, sitting up and on his heels to gain leverage to piston into you deep.

"So fucking perfect," he groans. He reaches down to thumb at your clit, circling it and grinding it down in time with his thrusts. You whine his name and buck against his hand as his thrusts get harder and faster in response. It has the coil in your belly winding tighter, so tight your body feels rigid against the bed. "Gonna show me that rainbow, right baby? Be good and come for me, yeah?"

You're already nodding frantically, words completely failing you. The sound of your skin meeting is loud, and your own moans are a chorus that's getting lost in his groans, in his pretty little whimpers of your name. It's all too much— you can barely catch your breath.

His hand that isn't playing with your clit finds one of yours and brings it to your stomach, pushing your palm into the skin below your belly button. When you feel it—the subtle bump from the tip of his cock, pressing against his fingers and into the flat of your stomach—you moan and dig your nails into the back of his hand.

"Fuck," he grits. "You like that angel? You like feeling full of me?"

A distant pulsing of your clit is the only warning you get before your orgasm hits you hard. You scream Hyunjin's name, nails digging into his skin for something to tether to. Your orgasm washes over you like an electric current, shooting up your spine and down to your toes. It whites your vision out, each pulse of Hyunjin's thrust translating into faded bursts of colors behind your eyes. The force of it makes your cunt squeeze down hard, so hard that you feel him stutter in his rhythm above you. You feel him drop forward to grip onto the pillow behind your head and bury his face into your chest, fingers digging in tight, hips bucking up into you. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's biting hard down on the fabric of your shirt, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. You don't need to look to know he's coming inside of you, filling you up and painting you white.

It feels like the two of you ride through the aftershocks for years before he comes back down enough to gently slip his cock out of you, hissing from the sensitivity. You barely even feel him roll off of you, the world still tilted on it's axis significantly. Your vision takes a second to focus as your chest heaves. It takes even longer to realize that Hyunjin is staring at you from where he's lying on his side, head propped up on his elbow and an expression on his face you haven't seen in months. The thought that he could still look at you with a mixture of reverence and wonder after all this time is overwhelming.

But exhaustion is the prevailing emotion, and you only manage a small, sleepy smile before you pass out, lulled to sleep by the soft kiss he presses to your shoulder.

—

When you wake up a few hours later, you’re not panicked to find that you’re by yourself. The sheets are still warm, the shower is running, and there is still a dull, pleasant ache between your legs. You stretch, muscles nicely liquid and pliant, before patting around for your phone on your nightstand.

You do not find your phone. You find, instead, a piece of paper.

It takes a moment of sleepy shuffling, but once you get the lamp on, you see that it’s a pencil sketch of your sleeping form. There’s a cloud of colors surrounding you, beautifully rich blues and pinks that overlap to create equally vibrant purples. The colors feather out around the paper, swirling into soft, delicate hearts.

There is a single word on the bottom of the drawing:

Reconciliation.

#stray kids #hyprfics #skz x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz hyunjin #skz hyunjin x reader #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader

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wistfulenchantress · 1 year ago

Text

completed.

EDIT: this has now, as of this edit, reached over 2,000 notes. And I have started doing the things. My life is still far from perfect, but I genuinely do scroll through all the replies and reblogs and watch people get other people to help and reassure me and check on me and it makes me feel so much more loved than i normally do. i'm even going to bed earlier because you said i should. i love all of you so much, and i owe you 2,053 times. all my love, witch.

ORIGINAL POST:

ok here goes. i haven't taken enough care of myself recently. so here we go

if this reaches 100 notes i will start doing yoga again, to help with my anxiety COMPLETE (how you guys are insane)

if this reaches 200 notes i'll start studying more and putting in more effort COMPLETE (o my gosh)

if it reaches 500 i will actually try my best to exercise for the right reasons, instead of random bursts of self-hatred/body hatred COMPLETE (i posted this yesterday evening)

if this reaches 700 notes i will try my absolute best to fix my sleep schedule COMPLETE (ok this is insane)

if this reaches 1000 notes i will be more honest with my therapist COMPLETE (dammit you guys ilysm but this is gonna be hard)

if this reaches 2300 notes i will be more honest with myself about why i am turning to tumblr for this kind of thing and write a poem about it. (this one is a joke since i think 5000 is impossible, and i will write a poem for you guys anyway. i love you) (i’ve now changed this to a more reasonable goal - one really close to what i have now - because honestly i want you guys to succeed because the fact that people are still on this post is insane and it makes me smile.) AND COMPLETE! (i love every person who interacted with this post so much it isn’t even funny. all my gratitude and adoration, witch)

this ends at the beginning of may. you can spam i guess i have 35 followers it prob wont even reach 100. but go ahead, tumblr, do your thing. lol

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fandomfablesunleashed · 2 months ago

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Period relief

Zayne x reader

Summary: When your period hits unexpectedly, leaving you stranded with only one pad and no energy to even go to the store, the last thing you expect is for your plans with Zayne to suddenly fall into place.

Words: 2k

Notes: I wrote it while I was dying on my period (shocking, isn't it, given the theme?), and edited it when I was able to think. I'm still dealing with the consequences of being a woman, so it might not be perfect, but I tried.

Let’s hope a cute doctor can help you too during those tough times.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

You groaned. Great. Your last pad. Perfect timing.

You had planned to go out tonight to restock—not just pads, but all the other necessities you'd need for your period, which, according to your calculations, should start tomorrow. Not fucking today.

Just as you were cursing internally and debating whether you could manage a trip to the store now, your phone buzzed with a new text:

My surgery took shorter than expected, so I can see you tonight if you're still free.

Right. You’d originally asked Zayne to hang out today, but he had to decline. Now, suddenly, he was available. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve been thrilled. But at the moment? You felt like dying.

It wasn’t just the cramps, fatigue, and general misery of your period arriving earlier than expected. It was also the fact that your relationship with Zayne was still fairly new. And while you liked him—a lot—you weren’t quite sure how you felt about him seeing you like this.

You sighed, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you finally typed:

I’d love to see you, but I just got my period and currently feel like rotting on my couch… after I force myself to go out and buy some necessities.

Immediately, your phone started ringing.

You grumbled but answered, moving weakly to curl up on the couch in a fetal position as you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hi,” you managed to say.

“What do you need?”

“Huh?”

“I'm leaving the hospital soon. I'll get you what you need,” Zayne said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The familiarity of his voice made you feel safe, but also… vulnerable. He always found ways to take care of you, even when you didn’t ask, and sometimes it made you feel guilty.

“No, no need. I just took a painkiller. I should be able to go and get something myself soon. I don’t want to trouble you.” You hated how weak you sounded, even if you were doing your best to brush it off. You hated feeling like a burden.

“If it were trouble for me, I wouldn’t be offering.”

His words, simple as they were, immediately softened the knot in your chest. It was the truth, and you knew it.

And just like that, you were reminded why you adored that man so much.

“So, what do you need?”

“Pads,” you admitted.

“Alright. The ones you usually use?”

“Wait… how do you know what I use?” you asked, surprised. You’d never told him, had you?

A teasing lilt came through his voice. “They're in your cabinets. The one you told me to put my stuff in too, remember?”

“Right, right. Of course. Didn’t think you’d remember.”

“I try to remember things about you. So those?” He sounded so amused, and you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. Of course, he remembered. He always did. It was one of the things you appreciated in him.

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bother him more.

“If you don’t tell me, I won’t be able to get it,” he pointed out.

“Right. Um… mint tea?” you offered, unsure if it was too much.

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

You expected him to hang up as you heard more shuffling over his end of the phone call. Yet, he wasn’t done with the conversation.

“Have you eaten?”

You winced. You really didn’t want to admit how bad you’d been about that.

“Umm… you’re not gonna like the answer.” You avoided the question with a pathetic attempt at humor, hoping he wouldn’t push.

“Don’t tell me you took painkillers on an empty stomach,” he said, his voice adopting that doctor-like tone—the one you recognized all too well.

“I know, I know,” you interrupted quickly. “I forced myself to eat some yogurt and crackers before taking it.”

A disappointed sigh came through the receiver. “Better than nothing, I guess. I’m going to grab us some dinner too, then. Anything you're craving?”

You weren’t really hungry, but you should eat something. Then again, Zayne probably wasn’t going to approve of what you wanted.

“Fries.”

“Fries?”

“Yes. And chicken wings. Preferably spicy.” You knew it wasn’t the best idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care much about nutrition right now.

A pause. You could feel the judgment through the phone.

“That’s not the most nutritious food, especially now when you should be eating things rich in—”

“I know,” you cut him off, hoping to end the lecture before it started. As much as you liked him talking about just anything, you were not in the mood to listen to what you should be eating or doing. “Just get whatever then.” You were glad he was not seeing you right now because you were for sure pouting like a small child, and he would for sure tease you about it.

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.”

And then it hit you. He was going to be here soon.

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your face. You missed him, and the thought of not having to drag yourself to the store was nice, but… you also didn’t want him to see you like this.

“What is it?” Zayne asked, clearly sensing your hesitation.

“I… um.” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain it.

“You don’t want to see me?” His voice softened. “I wanted to take care of you, but if you’d rather not, I can just drop off the stuff and go.”

“No, it’s not that… it’s just…” you mumbled, “I look like shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I just… I don’t look good.” It felt silly to admit, but there it was. You didn’t want him to see you like this, and you certainly didn’t feel like pulling yourself together.

There was a beat of silence, and then—

Laughter.

“Zayne, don’t laugh at me!”

“I apologize,” he said, still clearly amused. “You’re in pain. You’re allowed to not look your best. Besides, I can assure you—no matter how you feel, you’re still gonna be beautiful to me.”

You could hear the sincerity in his voice. As always. You knew he meant it, but still, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.

You swallowed thickly, heart lodging itself in your throat. “If you keep talking like that, I might actually cry.”

“I’ll grab some tissues too, then,” he responded playfully. “I’ll see you soon, dear.”

Not long after, the doorbell rang.

You groaned, barely able to muster the energy to move. Every part of you ached, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on your body as you forced yourself off the couch. You shuffled toward the door, each step feeling like a small victory, but the effort it took left you feeling hollow. With a sigh, you finally managed to pull the door open.

“Hi.” you said, your voice sounding far weaker than you intended.

“Hey.” His hand brushed against your cheek, and then he pressed a tender kiss there. A gentle touch, a simple gesture, yet it felt like everything you needed in that moment.

“I was right,” he murmured, eyes scanning your face with quiet admiration. “You're definitely still beautiful.”

You felt warmth rushing to your face, your heart fluttering in your chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you beautiful, yet each time it still made you feel bashful. It wasn’t just the compliment that made you flustered. It was the sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something worth seeing. Even in your state right now.

Then you noticed it—his own cheeks tinged with a soft flush. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was.

Zayne gently nudged you toward the couch. “Go lay down.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he simply raised a finger. “Ah. No arguing. I'm making you tea, and then we’ll eat.”

You huffed but obeyed, shuffling back to your spot and curling up again. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you called out, “Can you heat more water? For my hot-water bottle?”

“Of course.”

You heard Zayne moving around your kitchen effortlessly, the soft clinking of mugs and utensils blending with the steady rhythm of his steps. The way he navigated your space made something stir deep inside you. The way he cared for you so willingly, with no sign of wanting anything in return, made you feel safe, secure in a way that you hadn't known in a long time.

Before long, he returned, balancing a tray with tea, food, your heated pad and tissues. So he was not joking about that then.

“Sit up,” he instructed gently. “You need to eat something. But don’t force yourself if you don’t feel like it.”

You pushed yourself up and accepted the tea first, inhaling the soothing scent before murmuring, “Thank you.”

You were about to take a sip when your gaze landed on the takeout bag in his hand. “Oh, you actually got me fries and chicken wings!” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked at the comfort food you’d craved. It was exactly what you wanted.

Zayne smirked. “And they’re spicy. Just like you wanted.”

You raised a brow. “What happened to having a proper diet?” You’d been so focused on the comfort of the meal that you’d almost forgotten about the usual back-and-forth he always brought up when it came to nutrition.

He shrugged. “It’s better to eat something than nothing. And it’s perfectly fine to satisfy a craving now and then. That said, I did get you something more nutritious as well. I hope you’ll eat it later.”

A fond smile tugged at your lips at his thoughtfulness as you took a bite of a fry. “Thank you, Doctor Zayne.”

Zayne just smiled back, his gaze soft as he settled in beside you. You pulled the hot-water bottle closer, the soothing warmth a welcome relief against your pain, and continued eating. Zayne began eating his portion as well, the two of you slipping into a comfortable silence.

The moment you finished, you let out a deep sigh.

Zayne glanced at you, his brow furrowing just slightly in concern. “Did it not satisfy your craving?”

“It did,” you acknowledged. “But now I feel like eating something sweet.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head fondly as he stood up, gathering the dishes. Before you could even think about getting up to help, he disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned—with your favorite chocolate.

Your eyes lit up as you immediately reached for it. “You’re the best!”

He chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face as he sank back into the seat beside you. “I just want to make your day feel better.”

You unwrapped the chocolate, grinning like crazy. “It already is… since you got here.”

“I’m glad.”

His lips curled into that familiar, gentle smile, The kind that always made you feel seen, like you mattered. You almost forgot about the chocolate in your hand as you lost yourself in that moment, wondering if he knew just how much his presence had truly transformed your day. The simple truth was, with him near, everything always felt better. Apparently, even your period.

You brushed the thought away and held out a piece to him. “Now eat it with me, sweet tooth.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to that. Sure enough, he took a piece, and you munched on the chocolate together.

After a few moments, he tilted his head. “Anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t often you let yourself be vulnerable like this, but with him, it felt natural. You murmured softly, almost shyly, “Maybe just… cuddle with me?”

Without a second thought, he moved closer. “I can do that.”

And he did.

You nestled into him, his arms warm and secure around you. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a lullaby in itself, soothing and calming. You hadn’t even realized when sleep crept up on you.

The last thought you had before drifting off was just how lucky you were—to have the cutest, most caring doctor by your side.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lads fluff #lads #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lads zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne x you #zayne li

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nichuuu · 5 months ago

Text

From Eden

Jeon Heejin x M reader

(1st instalment of De Selby)

PSA: This shit has not seen the editing board because I'm lazy. Fell off real hard. Sorry gang.

Word count: 10k

You liked to think that your first meeting with her after all those years was a fluke.

As it went for most people who went their separate ways at a point in their lives: there was history between you and Jeon Heejin. It was a little more choppy than you’d like to admit, but it formed the crux of your relationship and you couldn’t just ignore it. She seemed to find no qualms in forgetting what happened between the two of you. And as you caught up with her at a booth seat in some club you guys bumped into each other at, you wondered if you’d overreacted when the two of you had your falling out.

She was possibly kinda bad company for the night – not exactly a face you wanted to see three beers in and ditched by the rest of your friends cause they all got too drunk and found themselves booted from this hellhole. But at the end of the day, they all say that it’s better to be in poor company than to be alone.

***

To whatever gods that were out there, you thanked all of them collectively for the fact that the toilet that she’d dragged you into was empty. You hoped that the cubicle door was enough to keep whatever was happening in the bathroom privy to its occupants. The music that pulsed on outside the bathroom should be enough to cover you right?

Heejin—as usual—had no qualms about skipping past the usual formalities of intimacy. Those deft hands were on your belt faster than you could utter her name, and your cock was in her hand before you even knew it. She was gentle with you, stroking you considerately as she laid a hand on your chest. Those fingers made you tingle from the tip down, pushing you to new levels of pleasure you’d no idea you could experience. They gripped you lightly yet firmly, applying pressure at all the right spots to make your toes curl in your shoes and your muscles tense throughout your body. You could only wonder: did she know what she was doing to you? Or was she just getting really lucky. However sordid this situation was, it felt right to you… and maybe to her as well.

“Jesus Heejin”--your hissing through your teeth. It sounds a little more aggressive than you’d like, but you know she’d have no qualms about it anyway–“you sure know your way around a dick.”

The smirk on her face was snitching on the fact that she definitely knew what she was doing. She leaned in, flushing herself against your chest while she continued to deliver languid strokes to the rock hard meat in her hand. “Thanks… He loves a nice handjob from time to time, though I always imagine myself giving it to you instead of him to get into it..”

You summoned the strength to look into her eyes – really gaze deep into those lustful, beautiful orbs she’d been blessed with. Past the want and need, there was an undeniable look of sincerity she held, a wordless soulful confession to you that she had always fantasised you in place of her ‘lover’. It drove you to push a little further, “and what are you thinking about now that I’m actually the one you’re giving it to?”

Heejin thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had a million and one answers that could express her carnal desires. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her to actually harbour a million and one answers. She was always a wild thinker in many aspects. She was also diligent, and that translated into the way her hand hadn’t stopped moving throughout the eternity (it was shorter than that, but it sure felt like it) she took to produce a congenial answer.

“Now that you’re actually here,” she finally answered, making sure to hit you with a smile that blurred the distinct line between sweet and sultry, “I’m thinking about how good you’re gonna fill me with this pretty, thick cock.”

“Pretty?” you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d heard and read of many ways that people described dicks, but never in your life would you ever expect the word ‘pretty’ to be amongst that mix. Heejin giggled – one of mischief and ‘know-it-all’ energy. It’s pretty – her grip around you tightened, squeezing you with pleasurable force as her movements quickened almost in sync with your breathing – because I like the way it feels in my hand… and I know that this cock is gonna be better than anything that he’ll ever give me.

She stopped, putting a jarring halt to the pleasure that surged through your system. Her hand on your chest snaked up to your cheek – a sweet action that almost took the pure filth out of the words that followed. “I want you to fuck me–no, own me.”

It felt almost like a command in the way that you immediately wanted to fulfill her request. Her thumb traces circles on your face; her speech only gets filthier, “fuck me like I’m yours. Make me cum so hard that I forget all about him.”

You found yourself back in control of the part of your brain that controls the facilities of your speech and movement. You gingery held the wrist that was delivering those soft strokes of heaven just moments ago and pulled her hand off your throbbing shaft. As much as you’d love to have her jerk you off, there were more pressing matters at hand – namely the situation of her clothing and the fact that it was still on her. You wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close.

“Heejin darling,” you whispered, relishing the way she shivered as your warm breath made contact with her ear. “I can’t do much if you still have all of these damned clothes on.”

She quickly recognised the game that you were playing and was eager to match you step-for-step. She held your gaze as she hooked a finger into the top of the tube top that adorned that wonderful figure and—rather enthusiastically—pulled it down. The nipple covers were quickly discarded and her small, perky breasts caught your gaze. Judging from her smile, she loved that you were staring.

“You’re nice”, she told you, moving some hair out her face like you were looking there of all places. “He’s always commanding me: take off your clothes, do this, do that… I could get very used to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Her constant comparison of you and the man she was supposed to be loving was making you feel a little better about yourself (even though you knew that was far from the intended effect). You’d like to return the favour; you began running kisses down her body – starting from her lips before making your way down to her collarbone. Her shuddering sighs told you that you were doing something right, and you endeavored to keep up your performance for the rest of… Well… Whatever this session was.

“God… you’re fucking perfect, you know?” you informed her, wondering if she ever knew how much you adored that body of hers. Yes, you were more wholesome at a younger age – looking at her soft features and dorky personality to decide that you liked her. However, innocence never stopped you from stealing a glance or two at her ass when she wore tight jeans or a quick look at her slim figure whenever she wore anything that hugged her body like a glove. You’d never know if she ever caught you looking, but now you’re glad she knows that you are giving her your fullest attention (it was hard not to really).

You weren’t sure if her cheeks were flushing because of your comment or if she was just getting turned on. Either way, she still had remarks to deliver, “perfect is a little strong, but I’ll take the comment because I’m just so humble.”

Mischief was and would always be her idiosyncrasy.

A creak made both of you freeze. Female voices filled the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of heels clacking against the floor as your little getaway location was patronised by unwelcome guests.

“Ugh… This damned contact lens is not coming out,” an identified voice carped. It sounded like the woman who said it was just in front of the stall that you were in. Judging from the slight look of annoyance that crossed Heejin’s face, you deduced that those were fellow bridesmaids who were in there together with you. With the same expression lingering on her soft features, she reached down and unclasped her jeans. She unzipped them slightly before pulling them down – past the delightful curve of her waist and till they were halfway down her supple thighs.

“Do you need help?” another voice rings out. Heels striked against the floor as another female occupant moved to join the scene; Heejin moved to grab you by the cock and pull you closer (as if the two of you weren’t already skin to skin in that stall).

“Fuck me now,” she hissed, an almost angry look filling her eyes. It was like she was being fuelled by the annoyance that stemmed from the presence of her fellow bridesmaids – using it as an excuse to quickly get filled with cock and have it pumping in and out of her within the next few seconds or so. She was lucky that you were taught to never keep a girl waiting.

Your movements are quick and firm; grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Her gasp was telling of her surprise towards your sudden movements, but the grin that followed when she turned halfway around to you to watch as you pulled down her underwear told you that she liked how things were moving. Never in your life would you have imagined this: you and Jeon Heejin – each of you half naked in your own respects in a bathroom stall while people chatted freely beyond the wall of the stall. If the teenage version of yourself ever found out about this, you didn’t know how he’d respond.

Your right hand snaked down towards her crotch, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the slick wetness that could very well be running down the inside of her thigh. You could always check, but you liked to imagine. You took your shaft in your right hand. She bent slightly at the waist, her hands pressed against the white wall of the stall. The rest of her tight frame joined her hands soon after you parted the wet lips of her cunt and hilted yourself inside of her.

Her insides felt like a warm embrace – better than you could’ve ever imagined it to be. It felt like a perfect fit; the throbbing meat within her walls filled her perfectly and felt every small movement the flesh could ever register. To call it heavenly would be downplaying the sheer pleasure she was bringing just by letting you be inside of her. Jeon Heejin felt like something unreal, unfathomable. You doubted that your hastily crafted description of her sweet wet cunt could allow one to process this taste of heaven.

Heejin let out a sharp gasp – loud enough for only the two of you to hear and loud enough for you to know that she too was unprepared for this new experience. From the way the muscles on her back tensed as her walls tightened around you, it felt as if her body was welcoming you. It was almost like she was subconsciously pulling you closer, deeper. You could get very used to this.

You revel in it a little, take in the feelings, the new sensation; the sound of the intentional soft breaths that the two of you were taking. This was certainly a novelty for you, and if you were being very honest with yourself: the events that led up to this moment felt a little too much like a fever dream. You half expected yourself to wake up in the next few seconds, or maybe—

“What are you waiting for?”–of course. It had to be her to really cement the fact that this whole thing was actually real. Sure, it’s inconceivable; but no imaginative power of yours could ever replicate the sarcasm (splashed with hunger) behind her voice, nor could you visualise the smouldering look in her eyes as she bit her lip–“your dick is in me. Do something with it.”

It felt like a challenge. She knew damn well that you always took up her challenges.

Withdrawing yourself from the warmth of her slick, you took a moment to cast your gaze downward. You appreciate the sight of your shaft glistening in her juices for a moment—and only a moment. There were pressing matters at hand—before thrusting back into her and reacquainting yourself with the warmth of her walls. You’d have loved to get into this slowly; unfortunately, Heejin chose the worst possible place to get it on. You’d have to live with her choices (and this isn’t exactly new for you).

And as a third voice joins the fray outside your stall—I think I have some eye drops here. Maybe that could help?—you began pumping yourself in and out of her, slow and controlled with full strokes that filled her to the brim. The voices continued to fill the bathroom as the three anonymous patrons struggled with one of their lenses; you struggled to keep yourself together inside of Heejin’s hot wet cunt.

“F-Fuck yes,” she hissed. Don’t worry, it was soft. Or you could just be too absorbed by the delightful sound of wet squelching as your shaft appears and disappears between her legs to notice that she may be a tad loud. Even if it was, the trouble outside was enough to keep the other three “I can’t believe I’m finally getting this dick. God… You’re so… Oh my god.”

It humoured you to see her in this state, though laughing at her would be the pot calling the kettle black; you yourself were trying to hold on to something tangible—that wasn’t her waist cause hot damn was your grip on it doing a number on you. Counterintuitive, but hot nonetheless—to keep you grounded in your senses. Slip up and you’d be dealing with the risk of being found in a girl’s bathroom.

“Jesus Heejin”–you were trying your best to throw in some dirty talk. It would help to spice things up if it weren’t for the fact that your own words were failing you. Your mind was almost completely consumed by the warm squeeze of her pussy, the small twitches of her walls as you drilled yourself into her tight frame like you were slowly nailing a painting onto the wall of the cramped stall. Actually, you were nailing a painting to the wall of the stall: the way her body moved and responded to your thrusts could easily be considered fine art in your books; her body could be considered a canvas given its pale complexion and its smooth surface. Heejin was an art piece herself – a complicated mix of emotions that could take the place of colour and a mind so complex that no composition could ever capture its essence. Good god… You were hooked on this girl–”you have no idea how fucking good you feel around my cock.”

To be clear: from the moment you started fucking her, she hadn’t turned back to face the wall. This whole time she’d been facing you – eyes smoking under the fire of passion and her mouth slightly parted as if her soft moans and sighs were keeping them permanently open. Simply put – she was hot. If you were to discard the complications behind the sex, one could easily classify this as plain, passionate and simple fucking (in a highly risky scenario that could jeopardize both of your reputations, mainly Heejin’s) between two people who have longed for each other. But the plainness of that sounded unappealing to you; the enthralling fact about this was the complexity of the situation – the thrill behind the immorality of it and the sheer risk behind satisfying your own desires. As she gasped when your hands found purchase in her soft breasts, you wondered if she had the same thoughts running through your head as you (though from the looks of it, she was purely enjoying the sex and probably leaving her thoughts behind. Words fail in times like these – you’d be one to know).

Her voice is unsteady as she hissed through her teeth—harder. Fucking give it to me like I’m yours—to perversely request for more than what you were giving her. To see her this uncouth enthralled you to no end. With one hand on her left tit, you moved to secure her hair in a bunch in your other hand. Her hair was a little far from silky—no doubt from all the dye that it’d seen—but it provided friction for you to grip onto her strands with ease as you decreased the intervals between your thrusts. The sound of wet squelching began to permeate the stall, and it was starting to be accompanied by the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin as you struggled to control your desires to rail the girl before you. Thankfully, the cries of victory from the women outside masked the unsavoury sounds.

“Thank god!” one of them, presumably the one who had their contact lens stuck. You’d affectionately refer to them as ‘Eyes’. “I thought it’d be in there forever. Thanks guys.”

“No worries”, another chimed. It was the second voice you heard when all of them entered. She’d be ‘Two’. “Normally you could take this to Heejin. She’d get you fixed up in a flash.”

“Really?” the third asked. You’ll call her ‘Three’. “Do idols get their contacts stuck a lot?”

“Probably,” Eyes mused, “all that dancing on stage probably isn’t suited for glasses, and who knows what type of contacts their stylists have them on.”

Heejin catched your gaze. Struggling to control her breathing, she managed to confirm Eye’s statement—she’s… kinda right. Oh fuck…—before you pulled back firmly on her hair to shut her mouth. Don’t be mistaken: you loved her personality and all, but now really wasn’t the time for it to shine. For good measure, you sealed her lips with a kiss – sloppy and clumsy and hurried. You squeezed her breast a little harder.

“Where is she anyway?” Three asked. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go talk to that friend of hers…”

A tongue click of disapproval could be heard. You could imagine that it was followed by a tongue wave of dismissal from the way Two commented, “leave her be. She rarely gets to get out of her schedule. Probably trying to catch up with some old friends or something…”

There was a hum of agreement; Heejin moaned straight into your mouth as you captured her nipple between your fingers and squeezed. If the women outside knew how Heejin was ‘catching up’ with you, you didn’t know how they’d react to the sight of her being fucked raw in a bathroom stall meters away from them. You didn’t know how she was getting away with this, but you weren’t exactly complaining. If it wasn’t for understanding bridesmaids, you wouldn't be able to make a wet mess out of her. Maybe you’d thank them later, but you’d decide on that after you were done with Heejin.

“Was that the guy she was talking about the other day?” Two inquired. You had no idea what she looked like, and it scared you a little that she’d seen your face.

There was a moment of pause before Eyes quipped, “what guy?”

Silence followed Eyes’ question. For a second, you were worried that they’d all picked up on the lewd sounds of you fucking the very girl that they were speaking of. You held your breath, but you didn’t stop pumping your shaft between Heejin’s legs. She was almost like a lifeline – a slick and wet and oh-so-hot one that was keeping grounded in your senses while hooking to the sensation of the slick thrusts inside her pussy. Miracle drug… Or maybe just a drug – either way: Heejin was everything to you right now. Listening in on their conversation was just so that you wouldn’t be found during your few minutes in heaven.

“Nevermind. I think I wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Two muttered. “Let’s get out of here before someone spikes our drink or something.”

They began discussing more mundane things, and you couldn’t care less about them because all that really mattered was the fact that their voices were fading away. You waited till you heard the sound of the creaky door closing to relinquish Heejin’s lips from your possession. She let out a gasp of air, followed by a desperate cry – loud and pleading now that she had the freedom to speak.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” she hissed. It was almost a snarl really. “Cum with me. Please.”

She was lucky that you: a) had a really big soft spot for her and; b) knew better than to turn a nice girl down.

With a grunt, the hand on her breast shoots to her throat, gripping it tightly as you frantically fuck Heejin to catch up with her imminent orgasm. She was into it, reciprocating by accompanying your hand on her throat and squeezing even tighter. She lets strained cries tumble from her mouth—Oh yes baby… I’m yours. Oh fuck… Oh my fucking god… You’re gonna make me cum so hard—her wells squeezing tighter and tighter around you. Husky was her voice as she pleaded with you to take your liberties—Fucking cum anywhere you like. I just want to be yours—with her, and she was practically shaking in your grasp as you drove yourself closer and closer to the point of no return inside her wet tight walls. Everything – your heart and soul and whatever – pointed you towards making a huge mess out of the women in your arms, and you endeavoured to achieve that goal one way or another.

The tingling at the base of your cock was steadily growing up your shaft. Your thoughts blurred together, nullifying and cancelling each other out till all you could think of was her. With every pump into her, you told yourself that she was yours to take. With every sigh that left her lips, you thought about how many times she pictured this moment in her head. With each gasp and sigh and moan and cry, you fought the urge to hiss through your teeth—Heejin, I love you so much—and admit your feelings for her and how much you’ve missed her touch; tell her how no one made you feel like she could; let her know that for all these years, you’d longed to reconnect with her and sort things out once and for all. Sweet thoughts; perverse desires. The latter wins – all that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And it happened. A little quicker than you’d have liked but there was no way to control the course that the lust of man would take you down. Your cock pops out of Heejin’s heat, glistening with her slick wetness as you pump yourself to completion with your free hand. The hand on Heejin’s throat was pulled down to her crotch, and she used your fingers to rub the swollen nub of her clit as the first ropes of semen shot out and landed on her lower back. She came as the second rope landed on the swell of her left ass cheek, and her knees buckled as the third and fourth spurts hit the fabric of her tube top and the right side of her lower back respectively. You lost track of the rest of your load as Heejin leaned against you, quaking as her orgasm struck her in waves and your load continued to streak her back. It all was so fast. You wondered how either you managed to process your actions in the moment.

She panted against you, sweaty and spent as she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Your dick stayed flushed against the small of her back, slick with a mix of fluids from you and her. Your hand at her crotch slowly rubs circles into her clit, easing her off her peak and giving you something else to focus on other than how beautiful she looked. You feared that if you stared too long, you’d say something that you didn’t want her to know. The last thing you wanted was to have that moment of intimacy—facilitated by the afterglow of really good sex—to be ruined by some stupid feelings.

“Hey,” she whispered – all soft and tender as she opened her eyes to stare up at you. “That was fucking incredible.”

You managed a chuckle, restraining the urge to kiss her where she stood. She smiled, reached up to cup your cheek as you stared deep into her eyes. For a moment, the world went silent for you and her.

Then she pulled you down to her, kissed you where she stood. The position was a little awkward, your noses bumping each other at odd spots on your faces as she let the sweet nectar that was her lips grace your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, different from the kiss you’d given her in the midst of fucking her. It felt so right, so tender.

She released your lips with a soft smack, positively glowing as she gazed into your eyes for a little bit longer.

“Keep this between us,” she whispered, “I love you. I always have.”

***

You stared blankly at her. It was all you could do really.

“What part of this can’t you understand?” she asked. The anger behind her voice was potent, palpable. “I have a boyfriend. Stay away.”

In your hand, the note that you’d plan to hand her felt a little lighter than it had when you first approached. Wishful thinking had you delusional; there was no chance that she would ever go to that dance with you.

You thought that maybe the friendship could coax her into it – that maybe the years of what almost felt like kinship would drive her to just hear you out for a little bit; yet you seemed to forget that love is blind and can cloud your judgement.

In a moment, it felt like everything you’d built with her had turned to ashes.

***

“Indulge me Heejin. Bring me through your thought process.”

On the bed of your apartment, Heejin tosses her phone aside. Languidly, she flips onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as her elbow dents the pillow.

“I know,” she mutters, a little bit shamefully if you might add. “Dating another guy to make you jealous and confess is a classic fanfiction folly and all… But I was desperate.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You know that we could’ve just… talked, right?”

Her lips form a line. She sighs and lets her head flop back onto the pillow with a bit of a thump. To be very clear: you aren’t asking her all these questions to guilt trip her into an apology. You are genuinely curious to understand how she was thinking at the period in your lives. It’s a good point of reflection for the both of you considering you both screwed up in one way or another, and maybe even a good chance to offload some emotional baggage. You’ll admit – finding out that she’d dated the guy she was currently with just to get you to run to her and confess your love in highschool was a bit of a shocking discovery. It was foolish, yes… But you wondered why Heejin of all women would resort to such methods. She could be awfully blunt when she wanted to be, and somehow even more blunt when she was telling you that you looked like shit in skinny jeans. You never knew as one to shy away from a confrontation when necessary, and even though she could be a bit of a big dork, she was emotionally aware enough to understand that communication would easily have settled your feelings for each other.

Heejin rolls in the bed, moving close to you so that she can throw an arm around you as she asks, “you’re not mad right?”

“No. Just curious,” you tell her truthfully. She’s silent for a moment, then she looks you in the eyes and opens up: I always meant to talk to you about it. When I heard from Haesul that you liked me I… I was just ecstatic. You were everything I wanted in a man, and I really just wanted to make you mine. Believe me when I say that I wanted to just run to you after the school bell rang and tell you that I loved you too… and maybe ask you out on a date the next weekend.

Her thumb traces circles on your back. You can tell that she’s being sincere from the way she never shies from your gaze. She continues, “but as I’m running to your class down the hall… This guy comes up to me and just tells me that he’s been crushing on me for years and wants to date me. I want to tell him ‘no’ on the spot. I really did. But I see an opportunity to… I dunno… Spice things up a little.”

And you can guess the rest of the story, but you just want to hear her say it just to be sure. Sure enough, she tells you the exact line that you predicted out of her—one thing led to another and then… well, here we are—and you can’t help but chuckle. The whole thing is pretty damn foolish to be honest, and you recognise the fact that if you’d just acted a little less rashly, maybe you wouldn’t have had to go down the path that you did. It’s a folly of the past but it does bring some shame to your present.

“I’m sorry”—she surprises you with this one. You assumed that you guys are past the stage of reconciliation at this point. I mean… You did fuck in a bathroom before she texted you after the wedding she was attending, so it would be kinda right to just conclude that you guys pre-fired the make-up sex—“I was rash and stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising again?” you ask her, “I thought we were through with the sob ‘sorry’s and what-nots.”

“Just for good measure,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes as she shifts around in your bed a little. “You can never be too careful when it comes to these types of things. Don’t want to make you an enemy again, do I?”

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” you reason, albeit playful rather than serious. She recognises that and scoffs as you continue, “they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“So what I’m hearing is: you’d stay for the hate sex,” she fires back. You smile.

“Not quite… But somewhat.”

Heejin sighs and slaps your leg. You secretly like pissing her off a little, but she didn’t need to know.

“Now mister,” she says, hijacking the course of the conversation. “Indulge me and bring me through your thought process, and this isn’t about highschool by the way.”

She presses herself up against you, and you feel her hand slide down your torso and to your crotch.

“Tell me,” she whispers, a bit of smoky sultriness sneaking its way into her voice. “Why are you so fucking hard?”

It’s here that you realise that you’ve kinda walked into a trap. Not that what’s about to proceed is bad or anything, but it’s just that you’re a little disappointed that you hadn’t spotted this a little earlier. There were signs that you ignored when you saw her in your bed – namely the fact that she was wearing a see-through sleeveless dress that had a plunging neckline. If that wasn’t enough, she was blatantly playing with herself when you walked in, staring at her phone with this blanked out expression while her fingers worked between her thighs. If it weren’t for your questions about her relationship decisions, the two of you would probably have been naked and sweating in your bed right now.

“Can I guy not be excited by a pretty girl?” you’re not trying to play innocent, but you are seeing how far it can get you in this situation just for fun.

“Not this guy.” Heejin��s fingers snake around your cock, gripping it lightly through your pants. “And definitely not when it comes to this girl.”

You chuckle softly and catch her hand at your crotch. You pull it away and lean in to whisper into her ear, “don’t worry Heejin. I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re wearing the easiest thing for me to fuck you in.”

Her eyes brighten. “So you did notice…”

And the kiss that follows is far from tame really. You’re at fault for this one since you initiated it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you from keeping your hands to yourself as you reach down and locate her pussy. Okay wait, you’re making it sound like it took you some effort to find it when you really only took about a second; it’s really easy considering that the panties she’s wearing were so sheer and thin that you could hardly consider it underwear. It was probably more like a concept of clothing than an actual, tangible thing. And her dress? The hem was a lot shorter than it looked. She probably hiked it up or something.

You’re unsurprised by the slick wetness of her cunt practically dripping out of her at this juncture. She’s probably been holding it in for a while now – suppressing all that lust and hunger to talk about feelings for some 30 minutes before she finally gets the chance to let loose on you. Hats off to her really: she had more control than you’d credit her for.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, latheing your fingers in her juices by dipping them in between her undoubtedly flushed lips. “So wet for me already.”

“Wetter than I’ll ever be for him,” she sighs, almost breathlessly as she shuts her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers getting familiar with her warm cunt. “You should—mmph… you should be grateful that I’m actually attracted to you.”

“I feel honoured.” you’re being genuine with her, but right now it comes off more as a sarcastic passing comment that leans towards the more tame side of dirty talk. Either way, anything you say would probably end with her putting your dick into one—or maybe all—of her holes and using it to her liking. Not that you’re complaining or anything, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There’s no stopping Heejin’s desire, and there really isn’t a point to trying to stop it. You’d be missing out on, like, a lot. “Though, no pressure, I’d be more honoured if you actually did something about that attraction.”

She smiles, borderline sadistic and a bit more enthusiastic than you’re used to. Her hands are deft as she quickly undoes the knot that keeps your sweatpants around your waist, pulls it off eagerly and makes quick work of your boxers. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing as she slides out of bed to discard her dress. In record time, she’s between your legs and stroking your shaft with patient strokes of her hand. The cheeky comments that you had beforehand quickly sank back down your chest – replaced by an earthy groan that only Heejin was capable of drawing out of you.

“You know… I was doing a bit of thinking,” she tells you.

“You do a lot of that.”

Heejin has no comments, only a cheeky little grin as she breathes warm air onto the tip of your cock. It makes you shudder, surging pleasure through your veins down to your bones. She’s oddly good at making you squirm, and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.

“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed by what she’d just done to you. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe I could cross out one of my fantasies today.”

You’re no stranger to her wild thoughts that could probably fight that of Sabrina Carpenter. As you’d recently found out: fucking in a bathroom stall was one of many wild fantasies that she’d been wanting to cross out. Now that she had you, she’d been busy crossing more and more of them out. The whole infidelity thing was already a major part of her list considering the fact that she’s doing it with you instead of her ‘official’ partner, and things only get wilder from there. Sex with her can sometimes be like exposure therapy, not that you’ve done it before or anything.

“And which one are we ruling out today?” you inquire, watching with great interest as she produces her phone from below the mattress and swipes through it eagerly. You never saw her grab the damn thing, but you figured that you were probably too preoccupied with the sight of her undressing to take notice. By the way: the entire time that the two of you had been talking? Yeah, she’s been stroking you through all of that. One can only imagine how you were feeling at the moment.

When you saw her phone, you thought that she was going to open her notes app and start looking through her kinks or something. Nothing prepares you for the sound of a dial tone, and you can only watch as she lays the phone next to your thigh, just out of your reach.

“No prizes for guessing who I’m calling,” she grins, almost too innocently for your taste. “Try not to make too much noise okay?”

And before anything can be said, she slacks her jaw and draws you into the warm wet depths of her mouth.

The dial tone only continues as Heejin goes still – adjusting to your size and length and taste and shape and whatever she needs to configure herself to. Frankly: if she’d just started sucking you off with that tight seal around your cock, you would’ve been in perdition in mere seconds after she starts. So you give a small thanks to whoever’s watching over you from up above, and you pray that the person on the other end of the line doesn't pick up. While you utter that silent prayer, Heejin’s tongue introduces itself to your tip, sliding almost gracefully over the head of your cock as her phone rings for the nth time. Another ring; her tongue flattens itself against the base of your dick and melts itself to the surface. You grit your teeth, fearful that the moment you make a sound, the other party would pick up and hear it. She slides up in a fluid motion, almost perfectly seamless if she hadn’t gone too far up too fast. Your cock ends up hitting her in the chin, and she smiles as if it were some cute thing that she was taking care of.

“Heejin,” you grunt, keeping an eye on the phone screen in fear for both of your lives. “Let’s not—”

The caller chooses that moment to pick up, and this is where the game starts. Your lips shut so fast it feels almost automatic, and Heejin tears her eyes away from yours to focus on the other player of this perverse game.

“Hi baby,” she greets her ‘lover’, all sweet and cute like she isn’t pumping your saliva-slick shaft in her hand as she calls him a pet name. “I was missing you, so I called.”

“Oh… I’m kinda busy now.” he sounds highly uninterested in her, tone dull and dry as Heejin takes a moment to give your cock a squeeze. “Can you call me back another time?”

For a moment, you’re ecstatic. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be subject to her games this time.

“Quick chat. Promise,” Heejin fires back. She smiles wickedly, relishing the look on your face as you stare at her in a mix of shock and horror. “Just tell me about your day so far. It’s so hard to wait for you to get home to tell me about your day.”

There’s a moment of silence. Heejin takes advantage of the situation; she puts you back into her mouth and makes quick, sloppy work of your cock. The sound of slurping and gurgling is almost deafening, and there’s no way in hell that this man on the other side of the phone was not hearing all of this as Heejin blew you. You tilt your head back, clenching your teeth to prevent the guttural groan that’s building up deep within your chest from escaping your body. You’re hoping deep breaths of air can fill the space – block the desire to cry out in pleasure at the cusp of being translated into phonetics.

“Fine.” you’re almost grateful to hear that dull voice. “I’ve just been doing some filing and some paperwork… Nothing much really.”

“Mhm,” Heejin mumbles, your cock still in her mouth. She frees it for a second to deliver a line—that sounds like super important work babe—that’s definitely sarcastic in her head and in concept, but masterfully manipulated to sound sincere and enthusiastic. “Anything else?”

“Uh… No.”

Heejin seems almost too gleeful between your legs. “Great. I’ll give you a quick run-down of my day then.”

She proceeds to give him utter bullshit, lying through her teeth about lazing around in her dorm and eating yoghurt. All the while she’s lazily delivering firm pumps to your cock, the sound of her spit squelching in her own hand a little too loud for your liking. Then she starts twisting, and you feel as if all hell is breaking loose inside of you. Your throat is pricked with the sharp gasps that are fighting to be let out of your mouth, skin tingling with the effervescence of pleasure racing through just about every vein in your body. You’re certain you have a knuckle-white grip on your sheets as uses her thumb to rub against the underside of your slit while her other fingers pull the skin around your head tight to keep the sensitive part of you exposed to her impending assault.

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, and you’re wondering what other lies she’s capable of generating right now. “I got a call from my old friend that I met at the club before the wedding… He says he wants to be my personal photographer.”

And now you’re shocked and stunned. What was a passing joke yesterday is now being used against you in a way that you can’t even fathom. Heejin revels in the silence—and all the emotions that could possibly be engendered by that single statement—as she smiles and licks you from base to tip. The layer of saliva around your cock thickens, and she uses that to get more aggressive with her motions. You didn’t know if she has limits to her cruelty, and you really hope that she’s reaching it soon.

“You know how I feel about that guy…” he begins.

“I know, I know… I’m just telling you to keep you in the know.”—her dismissal of his worries is quick and almost genuine if it weren’t for the fact that she was going against his wishes while she assuages his worries—”wouldn’t want to fight with you again, would I?”

He grunts in agreement. “Stay away from him baby. He’s bad company.”

“Yeah,” she hums, locking eyes with you as she hovers her mouth over your tip. She gives it a swipe of her tongue, smiling as you grimace under the pressure that shoots up from your crotch. “He’s such a bad guy…”

Not that you’re into this or anything, but hearing that drawl—sinful and sultry; raunchy and earthy—made your breath hitch a little. Sure, you’re no stranger to Heejin’s sensual side; but this was a bit of her that you had yet to experience. It felt like she’d dug up a new side to her, something unearthed and unaired, and you’ll be the only one to see it. She could take your breath away in many ways and you’d just found another.

The man on the other end grunts once more. With a gruff “Alright. I’ll text you later”, he hangs up on Heejin, leaving you free to let out the breath that you’d been holding in up till that point.

“Isn’t he a bundle of sunshine?” Heejin drops the facade almost instantly, using the hand that wasn’t occupied with your cock to retrieve her phone. “Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds… Huh. That’s longer than most of our calls.”

You can only pant and watch as she giggles and tosses her phone aside. She crawls back up the bed and takes your lips into hers, and you’d like to think that it’s a sweet apology for the hell she’d just put you through. Deep down you know it wasn’t, but you’re in the mood for some wishful thinking after what you went through.

“Not sure if I’m being greedy here,” Heejin whispers, “but I’d like you to indulge me just a little more…”

“I’d like to hear this one through first,” you quickly request, because no way in hell were you about to live through those 5 minutes and 27 seconds for a second time. “Can’t let you bite off more than you can chew.”

Heejin laughs, fully aware where this was coming from.

“Don’t worry. I think you’ll like this one,” she assures you, placing a hand on your chest for good measure. “Hand on my heart, honest-to-god: you’ll love this one as much as the next guy.”

You couldn’t help it. You had to check her – match her step for step.

“Considering that I just saw you lie through your teeth, I think it’s fair to say that I don’t quite trust you,” you tell her as plainly as you can. And it’s not that you actually don’t, but more so the fact that you’re just baiting her into saying something really raunchy that’ll rile the two of you up to no end. Depravity is the root of really good sex after all.

“I promise you,” her lips tilt at an angle as she smiles, “when we're done with this one, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.”

***

You figured that she’d come to you with the news at some point – tell you that he’d found her out and that things are gonna happen and blah blah. What you didn’t expect was for her to show up in the middle of the night to be a bearer of bad news.

“Went back to get a sweater that I’d forgotten,” Heejin’s explaining, a can of beer in her hand and fry in the other. “Open the door and next thing I know, the fucker’s blowing up on me in my face.”

She takes a swig and sighs. “Never liked him anyway… We fought more than we talked. Before you ask, make-up sex was horrible.”

You can only frown and nod in sympathy. You’re complicit in this whole ordeal and so don’t have much of a say in this thing. Guilty as charged, red-handed and whatever. You’re just glad that he didn't come over and beat you up like she said he would. Heejin downs the rest of the beer in the can in a gulp and gently places it on your table.

“Is anything gonna happen to you?” you can’t help but ask out of concern.

Her smile assures you a little, but her words don’t, “honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out if my publicist gives me hell tomorrow.”

She rises from her seat. “I’m just glad it’s over,” she says. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lived with that dry son of a bitch.”

Her sweater comes off her body. She tosses it at you. In her T-shirt, she struts towards the bedroom, stops in the doorway. With a look over her shoulder, she beckons you to join her—come make my night, would ya?—before slipping into the room.

Always a dance with her.

***

You’re starting to question where Heejin draws the line between her sex life and her regular life.

(You’ve said this about a thousand times by now, but) Not that you’re carping or whatever, it’s just that sex on the kitchen counter while your instant noodles are clearly being overdone in the pot a few meters away is a bit of a safety hazard. You’re no chef, but bubble frothing out of a closed pot really isn’t a good sign.

“Heejin,” you say, struggling to fit her name between the ragged breaths and frantic thrusts.

“I know,” she rasps in reply. “Ngh… We can… Turn it off later. I’m so close.”

Pretty solid reasoning in your opinion.

How you got into this situation is a bit more complicated that you’d care to explain, but let’s just say that a late night snack can quickly turn into a literal fuck-fest when Jeon Heejin palmed the shape of your boner as you put a pack of instant noodles into a boiling pot. You didn’t know what came over you really, but after the noodles went in and the pot lid was closed, you had her propped up on the counter and her panties around her ankles. You can figure out how you got to this point.

Okay: to be fair to Heejin, you did kinda start this whole situation that might just put your lives on the line. You’re the perpetrator, criminal mastermind; yada-yada. But if you were to consider the technicalities, she did aggravate you to fuck her, and by so virtue of that you’re kinda both at fault. Does it make sense? Great, cause a situation where you’re both a little dirty minded makes for really great sex.

Great… Now you just explained the complicated situation. Eh, who’s exempt from a little contradiction now and then. Anyway… Where were you?

“Oh my fucking god.” she’s moaning a lot louder than usual, loud enough to probably convert her voice into some sort of energy for the homeless or something. Between her thighs lay a wet mess that was the source of all this crying and keening, and your juice slicked cock is the thing that’s driving her wild with ecstasy as she wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you deeper into each thrust with her legs. “Fuck me harder please. I need to cum all over your pretty cock so badly I–”

She barely has it in her to finish her sentence. Her plea is truncated by a sharp cry, and it would be pretty funny if it weren’t for the fact that it's probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. The cry is almost delicate, fragile to the ear and almost like sweet music that plays in the dark. The keyword here is ‘almost’. Your description rings true, but the fact that she’s such a needy little bitch right now kind of ruins it. ‘Ruin’ is a little heavy handed; ‘taint’ would be a better word.

Yeah… Her want taints the beauty behind her desire… But only a little.

“I’m cumming”—Heejin’s practically whimpering at this rate. God you’d have quite the mess to clean up later—”I’m fucking cumming on your cock daddy I–Oh… Oh god oh fuck.”

“Fucking cum,” you hiss, saliva flying past your teeth and maybe onto her ear. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Give me a nice and tight pussy to cum inside of.”

It feels weird, dirty even, referring to Heejin as a slut, but her reaction tells you she likes it. She loves being called your slut. You can see her mouth agape, tongue sticking out a little. She can barely keep her eyes open as the pleasure courses through her. Her nails dig into your back, and you think she might be drawing blood, but the pain doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters is the sight before you.

She cums hard, and you know this because her walls clamp down on you like a vice. If you could, you would have taken a picture. The sight is just that amazing, but you're also preoccupied. The pressure is just right. The rhythmic pulsing of her walls against your throbbing cock is too much for you to take. Your hips stutter to a stop as you release a deep moan, and she gasps as she’s filled with rope after rope of hot cum.

When you finally come down from your high, Heejin is still panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut, and legs still wrapped around your waist. You can't hold back the little smile that crosses your face as you watch her catch her breath. She looks so peaceful. It's hard to imagine her as a girl with the dirtiest mouth you've ever heard.

She peeks an eye open to see you staring.

“The pot dummy,” she reminds you, and the horrors of reality come crashing back all at once.

***

So you do find a little bit of a charm behind really soggy Buldak in the wee hours of the night. It’s not the best thing you’ve tasted, but it had its appeal. The sauce helped to mask the depression in the sad, close-to-slimy strands of dough in your bowls, though it didn’t stop you from experiencing a new texture that was severely overcooked noodles.

“Still think we could’ve left it in a little longer,” Heejin muses, staring at the limp noodle trapped between her chopsticks. “Maybe from there we could reverse-engineer the noodle and re-cook it.”

“Yea. And maybe we don’t fuck when there’s clearly a four minute limit to this stuff,” you add befor slurping up the last few spicy, sad and soggy strands in your bowl.

“Hey. I’m pretty sure the sex was good enough to offset this abomination,” she huffs, setting down her bowl next to yours. “Besides… We’re kinda both in the wrong this time. It’s not always just me you know?”

“Never said it was your fault.” you’re admiring the way her eyes glow in the dim light. At the right angle, it looked like the light was filling her pupils in the most adorable way. “You’re just inferring shit from a passing statement.”

“Wonder where I picked that up from…” she fired back, though it felt much more like she was conceding defeat than challenging further provocation. It was always a dance with her: unpredictable patterns in constant motion, and all you can do is follow her lead.

Maybe one day you’d find the time - make up for the dance you lost and dance with her for real.

Hi. Kinda posting here again because my therapist said that it was good for me to continue writing to regulate my emotions. This one is kinda messy and unedited cause I just wanted to get this out here for funsies. Anyway, I won't be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will drop by from time to time. No promises that I'm gonna be incredibly active and no promises that I won't disappear of the face of the earth again.

Cheers, Nichu

#kpop #fanfic #heejin #heejin smut #artms #artms heejin

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hwallazia · 1 year ago

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GIVE IN TO ME – 최산

synopsis . in which san gives you some special princess treatment.

pairing . choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), fluff & comfort, established relationship, non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 0,4k

DISCLAIMER! dom! san (even though in here he’s devoted to reader’s 🐱), sub! reader, fingering, praise, dirty talk, lots of touching and whimpering, cutie & lovely pet names lol (sweetheart, princess, doll, good girl), in conclusion; just san being a sweet gentleman w reader <3

NIC’S NOTES I KNOOOW i should be working on a ton of asks and i am !! it’s just that they’re not ready yet, still gotta reread and edit them :// buuut, i saw a couple of pics of san’s hands a few days ago and i just couldn’t help myself -.- ALSOO SAN IN WORK MV?? i felt things i wasn’t okay with ;o so expect a cowboy san drabble soon ~ ♡

imagine san, caressing your skin like the princess you are for him, his left hand holding your hip tightly while his right intensely pounds your entrance, soaked from so much foreplay. the atmosphere was perfect and the air smelled strongly of sex, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. your cries did nothing but incite him to continue teasing you, your thighs quivering in response.

“sannie p-please...” you stammered pathetically, not knowing what you were pleading for. all you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop, the feeling being too good to be true. your manicured pink nails traced cat-like scratches on the muscle of his strong arm.

“please what, sweetheart?” he giggled when you whimpered in response, dipping another finger inside your slick cunt. san’s hold on your hip tightened. “don’t even need to put my mouth on you, just my fingers are enough to turn you into a mess,” he babbled, lost in how your folds perfectly sucked his phalanges, already fantasizing about the feeling of his cock inside you. squelching noises emitted from the slickness of it echoed through the room.

“f-fuckk” you stuttered as your back arched into a perfect crescent moon, san sighing happily at the sight of it. god, he’s so in love with the expressions you do when he’s filling you up with pleasure. the way your eyes squeeze as a couple of tears try to escape out of them, and the way your mouth hangs open in response to the overwhelming satisfaction he provides you are details that he never misses in sessions like these.

“god, you’re so perfect. so perfect for me” he whispered under his breath in a heart-warming tone, his words causing you to clench around his fingers. of course, san didn’t let it go overlooked, his reaction being an egocentric smirk decorating his thin lips.

“come on, princess. cum on my fingers,” he uttered as he kissed your thighs, the rhythm of his fingers stimulating your entrance becoming faster. your mind wasn’t processing any coherent information, the only thing that went through it was san, his fingers, and how sexy he looked as he bit his bottom lip. “give in to me, doll.”

his fingers which had been ramming that sweet spot for five minutes now touched it once more. and that was the climactic moment, the moment you came undone under san’s touch. your mouth hung open as you moaned loudly repeating san’s name between them. his ear tingling at those sweet sounds.

“thaat’s it. good girl.” he praised, sliding his index and middle finger up and down your sensitive folds as he helped you to ride your high. his left hand stroking the outer side of your thighs.

“you good for another round, atta girl?”

| masterlist

#© hwallazia #ateez #ateez smut #choi san #choi san smut #san smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san drabble #choi san imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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azzifuddfanpage · 5 months ago

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only like myself when I’m with you.

guys I made the executive decision to try and write a pazzi fic in one sitting and I literally almost just died I don’t know how you all do it but here we go

5.2k words 😭 like i literally feel dead.

Let me know how i did tho this is my first one and please give me feedback. Also I edited as I go and got a lil tired by the end

theme: friends to lovers

tw: smut at the end. Most of the story isn’t so if u don’t like it stop when u get to to the French fries being eaten it gets freaky 😛

2021

Paige walked into Ted’s, hair damp from her shower after a tough loss to notre dame.

She was frustrated with herself for how she played. She knew she should have put more shots up, regardless of her teammates consistent reassurance that she did everything she could, it wasn’t enough for her.

With Azzi hurt, she felt like there was a part of her that was missing on the court, and she didn’t feel herself. With no Azzi, there were no light taps on her back that sent shivers down her spine when she made her free throws, none of the gentle soft spoken whisper she would hear during the huddles. Her mistakes felt bigger. With Azzi hurt she felt a responsibility to take on her role in the court. If Azzi couldn’t play she felt like she needed to fill that gap, that role, and today she let her down.

As she walked through the doors she heard KK’s booming voice even before she saw them.

Paige unzipped her drawstring hoodie letting it fall off her shoulder revealing her black crop top under neath. She smoothly made her way over to the table, stopping to order a dirty Shirley from the bar and 2 shots of tequila.

“Paige!!” A voice yelled out coming from the table. Turning around from the bar with her tray of drinks she walked back towards her teammates.

“Where’s Azzi?” Paige asked, scanning the group noticing a hole where her curly haired best friend was.

“I think she was with the trainer after the game, she will probably be bye later.” Ice said, schooching over so Paige can squeeze in between her and Kk. Paige let out a sigh taking both the shots instead of leaving it for Azzi like she intended.

As much as she hated herself for it, but she needed to hear Azzi’s voice, to hear her tell her she didn’t play bad, that she was okay. Most of all she needed to tell Azzi how much she loved her, and how much she missed seeing her dimpled grin when she sunk a three, or seeing her cheer when paige scored off her. She felt like a burden, Azzi was out hurt with a knee sprain after just 3 games her freshman season, and would give anything to just touch the court again, while Paige needed her to tell her how she played.

Since they were on the USA team 4 years prior, they had an unmistakable bond. Defining the lines between friendship and something more was always a challenge for them.

Their title remained “Best-friends” to everyone else, teammates, coaches, family, fans, but both girls could tell the feelings ran deeper than they both realized. Touches lingering, snuggling up against each other. Paige even spending an entire month with her family where they kissed for the first time. Since then they continue to kiss each other, to touch each other- which they had convinced themselves was completely normal for best friends to do.

“She’s like my sister” Paige would tell slam magazine, along with herself, trying to assess what these unknown feelings were.

Friends that occasionally crossed the line was normal for their relationship, they were just a little closer than others that’s all. As much as she convinced herself of this, the sleepovers she would have with Azzi where they would share a kiss and cuddle up against each other, the tension in the air was thick.

Paige wanted nothing more than to stick her tongue down Azzi’s throat and kiss her until they couldn’t breathe. She wanted to go all the way. She wanted to make Azzi feel good in anyway she could, and craved Azzi’s touch more than anything, but fear stoped her.

As much as she knew Azzi loved her, and vice versa, there was no way of knowing how far she could take it. She has herself convinced she was straight. Her feelings for Azzi were simply platonic, which made no sense seeing as she wanted to literally f***.

But it was fine. She ignored the feelings. Her and Azzi were best friends, who yes kissed sometimes, but it was nothing more than that, she was almost positive that there were other friends that did that too.

——————

Azzi on the other hand felt just as conflicted. The kisses she shared with Paige in the safety of her room were the most seen she had ever felt. When she was with Paige she felt as though she was unstoppable. Nothing was wrong when she was with Paige, no injury mattered, no person, no coach, no team, no game. Her nights with Paige moved in slow motion, snuggled up against her skin she could hear her heart beating against her.

Azzi sometimes would push the limits, backing up into paige as they lay in bed together, hearing the shift in her breathing and the way her hands stiffened scared to touch her as if she was made of glass.

Azzi wanted nothing more than to lay with paige forever, to make her feel like the most special girl in the world.

Azzi knew the pressures of basketball better than anyone, she knew how much Paige put on her self, the weight of the entire team, especially now that she was injured. She hated that Paige would blame herself for losses, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her up and kiss every worry and doubt away from her, but they were just friends- best friends- who occasionally crossed the line.

——

Paige pulled out her phone and pulled up Azzi’s contact checking her location. With the trainer as Ice said.

Paige wasn’t surprised. Azzi never gave up, if Azzi could spend every minute of the day in that rehab facility with the trainer she would if it meant she would be closer to playing again. It was one of the things Paige loved and hated about her. She knew she would need a break, but also knew Azzi was too stubborn to accept that until she was cleared by the doctor.

Paige put her phone back down trying to distract herself from the Azzi sized hole in her heart. She felt the tequila pumping through her blood, the music pounded in her head. Taking a sip of her Dirty Shirley she stood up with Kk and chose to sing (and absolutely butcher) some Sexyy Red.

An hour, 15 songs, 8 maraschino cherries, 3 shots, and 2 dirty Shirley’s later, Paige shakily made her way back to her seat feeling the effects of the alcohol in effect. She picked up her phone unable to hold back any longer

Me: AZZZZIIIII WYA👀👀👀

💗: I’m still with the trainer.

She had me use the cold tub for my knee, she said it would help with loosening the ligament.

Why?

Me: OMF HATE THE COLD TUB

miss u thats y

💗: I know it’s awful, but it’s good for u 💗

I miss u too paige, I’m almost done I have 20 minutes left,

where are u?

me: teds 😛

💗: why r u at teds? It’s literally 4 o’clock…

me: u saw the game, and we have tomorrow off.

Plus the whole team is here I’m not by myself.

Might as well be since ur not here tho

💗: paige u played well, it was a tough game don’t be so hard on urself.

Me: idec anymore, I can’t change what happened… but u can by coming and making me feel better 😼

💗: ur already drunk and it’s 4 o’clock paige omfg

Me: I’m not even drunk I just wanna be with u

💗: do I need to text ice and ask what u have had?

—-

Paige looks up from her phone and glances at ice and kk singing to drake

—-

Me: I don’t think u will get the response u are looking for 😁

💗: ugh paige, fine I’m coming to get u

Don’t drink anything else ur gonna be so sick tomorrow

Me: YES AZZI COME PLEASE 😫😫😫

actually make me come instead

💗: I’m not responding to that💗

——

Putting down her phone Azzi got out of the tub.

As much as she didn’t want to admit, reading paige’s texts she wanted nothing more than to do just that and touch her until she screamed. But right now paige wasn’t thinking straight- literally.

Her only goal was to get to paige before she literally tried to come find Azzi on her own, which she had tried before.

—-

Paige on the other hand was very satisfied with herself for convincing Azzi to come, unfortunately not in the way she really wanted, but she would settle for this way.

Azzi’s message ringing in her ear vanished the second she saw the waiter bring out another dirty Shirley

“One more drink won’t do anything now, I’m already drunk.” She thought to herself allowing herself to indulge on the fruity beverage.

5 minutes later she was sucking up nothing but air through the straw. She sighed defeatedly, making her way over to Aubrey to see what she was drinking.

“I miss Azzi” paige slurred reaching for Aubrey’s sex on the beach.

“I can tell” Aubrey chuckled pulling her arm away, but paige was destined to have some more.

“She’s so pretty, don’t u think. It doesnt make any sense. I feel like she was literally a gift from god himself. No one deserves her.” Paige continued finally grasping onto the drink as a big tear rolled down her face.

Aubrey looked at her disheveled state and sighed.

“Aw paige, don’t cry, Azzi is pretty, and I think she will find someone really nice that will make her really happy some day! I think there is that kid in her accounting class that has a thing for her why don’t u try and set them up?”

“FUCK NO, Azzi is mine…” paige pauses sniffing in, “I want her, I love her, but what if I’m not enough for her. I want her to be happy she deserves to be with like a god or something idk… “ she trails off rubbing her eyes as tears dripped onto her lap.

Aubrey rubs her back awkwardly, not really knowing exactly what to say,

“Paige, azzi loves you more than anything in this world honestly. You see the way she looks at you? Like trust me ur not alone on that. Azzi would be lucky to have you!”

And just like that paige perks up, maybe it was the drinks, or the extra vote of confidence, or even just the mention of Azzi looking at her, she felt better.

Paige leans into Aubrey’s embrace and mumbles quietly.

“Paige what? Speak up I can’t hear u”

“I BEEN LOOSING FRIENDS AND FINDING PEACE BUT HONESTLY THAT SOUND LIKE A FAIR TRADE TO ME” she shouts singing along to the song in the background.

Aubrey just shakes her head laughing and mutters something about feeling bad for Azzi and watches as paige bounds back over to Kk and Ice.

Paige is downing two more shots when suddenly she hears her favorite laugh in the world.

She spins around so fast she knocks over KK’s drink

“Ugh, Girl boo” Kk shouts disgustedly shaking her head as paige races towards Azzi, stumbling, and getting knocked over by someone she ran into.

Getting herself back up, without even stopping, she continues to charge towards azzi, throwing herself at her.

“YOU CAME” she shouts

Azzi can smell the alcohol mixing with the lavender shampoo she used.

“Paige oh my fucking god ur actually hammered!” She says hugging paige back and holding her up for support.

“I feel totally fine Azzi” she slurs, but her body language says other wise as she feels her hands exploring Azzi’s body as she leans into her

“ I want you so bad” she whispers into her ear

Azzi shivers at her warm breath hot against her ear. She feels her cheeks redden…

“Paige you’re so drunk, come on you are cut off, let’s get you back home.” Azzi giggles while dragging her towards the door.

Paige didn’t argue, she just let Azzi pull her to the door. She didn’t care where she was as long as she was with Azzi.

Once they got to the car, Azzi glanced at her, Paige had a huge cheesy grin plastered on her face, but Azzi saw through it. The second the last bit of alcohol was out of her system, Azzi would be there to pick up the pieces and hold her while she continued to go over every second of the game an micro analyze every mistake she made.

Regardles, Azzi felt a small tug at the side of her mouth seeing paige this pure, even if it was because of the alcohol, knowing that her presence contributed to any of it was enough to fill her heart.

Azzi opened the door for her and stuffed her long limbs in before shutting the door.

As they drove Azzi could feel paige’s eyes on her. She would turn to look at her back and paige would immediately blush and giggle to herself.

Azzi laughed at her antics. Paige was acting as if she was in middle schoool, and Azzi couldn’t hide that she secretly liked all the innocent attention paige was showing her.

As they pulled up to paige’s dorms, Azzi lugged paige out of the car and brought her towards the door bringing her all the way up to her room all while paige babbled incessantly about random things.

Once they made there way to her room, Azzi sat her on the bed, but paige pulled her down on top of her.

Azzi tried to regain her balance but even drunk paige’s grip was firm on her arm. To be honest Azzi could have pushed her off if she really wanted to but a part of her enjoyed being on top of her…

They stayed there a second in silence.

Azzi’s beautiful face was enough to immediately sober Paige up.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful u are.” She slurred, releasing her grip off of Azzi’s arm and tracing her finger over her features slowly.

“You don’t have to Paige.” Azzi giggled at paige’s finger softly tracing over her face, outlining every freckle and crease in her skin.

“I want to tell you though” Paige pouts. “ I want to tell you every day. I wanna touch you like this every day.” She said proudly as she moved her arms pressing Azzi into a hug on top of her.

Azzi smiled warmly, but knew that paige was only saying this because she was drunk, whether she meant it or not, she was drunk.

Azzi sighed against her chest, ultimately wanting to lay there forever.

“You need to sleep this off, I’m gonna get you some water and advil ur gonna have the worst hangover of all time tomorrow.” Azzi remarked pushing herself off of Paige before she could grab her again.

Paige reached out her hands squeezing her fists together and releasing repeatedly like a child.

“ I want you to snuggle with me.” She pouts.

Azzi laughs at her childlike behavior.

“Paige baby you need to change first then I will come snuggle with you.”

Paige looked lazily up at her widening her big blue eyes pulling at Azzi’s shirt to sit herself up.

“I need help. Do it for me” she whispers leaning into Azzi still gripping her shirt.

Azzi gulps and feels her breath shift. Paige and her had changed infront of each other before but Azzi always made it a point to look away to give her privacy, but lately she has been realizing it was more for herself then for paige. If she looked at her once she may never stop.

The way paige was willingly giving herself to her so easily putting her arms over her head hinting for Azzi to take off her shirt, she remained eye contact with Azzi the entire time.

She watched as Azzi looked at her body. She watched the pink cover her cheeks as she pulled off her shirt. She noticed the way she avoided looking at her skin directly.

Azzi, out of respect, attempted to slide her shirt onto her without really looking.

“Uhm Azzi, you can look at me you know.”

Paige said teasingly smirking noticing Azzi’s face grow redder matching the team USA t-shirt she slid onto her.

Azzi attempted to laugh it off, quickly pulling off her shorts and pulling on a pair of green pj pants, but the tension hovered.

Paige pulled at her curls while Azzi fiddled with the draw of her pants trying to fix the tie that mysteriously got all tangled.

“If you wanted to take off my clothes you could have just asked…” paige trailed off smiling leaning in to smell Azzi’s hair.

Paige loved the way Azzi smelled, she always had, and always will. She could smell her coconut curl cream all the way to her vanilla shampoo.

Azzi’s smile deepened as paige ran her fingers through her hair.

“I promise I will be right back Paigey, I am gonna grab you some stuff and get you your tooth brush.” Azzi says walking towards the door before Paige has the chance to pull her back again.

“Pinky promise?” Paige whines.

“Yes I pinky promise Paige, I will be right back I swear.” Azzi replied finally leaving the blonde.

Azzi feels content, although Paige was drunk, she knew there was some level of truth to what she confessed to her.

The only doubt that crossed her mind was that Paige would not remember what she said tomorrow.

She tried to shrug off the doubt, paige’s future hangover was her main priority at the moment.

She had seen Paige drunk before but never like this, she had always been there to moderate her, but this time she hadn’t.

“Literally what would she do without me.” Azzi sighed with a smile.

After grabbing a water bottle, Gatorade, some Advil, and searching the entire apartment for snacks (ending up with half a bag of tru fru- thanks Kk), she walked back into the room slowly.

Peaking through the door Azzi saw Paige passed out on the bed her mouth slightly open.

Azzi had to stifle her own laugh as a string of drool trickled out of her open mouth.

Azzi grabbed her phone snapping a picture laughing to herself, before laying the supplies beside her and climbing into bed gently in hopes to not wake her.

Azzi wrapped her arms around paige and paige subconsciously snuggled up closer to her letting out a happy sigh.

Azzi couldn’t lie, there was no place she would rather be, she wished the circumstances were a bit different, but she had never been happier to be with Paige in bed. They had spent numerous nights together having little sleepovers, but to feel needed is to be loved, and that’s exactly how Azzi felt.

Paige has never felt more cared for by another person, than she did with Azzi.

Even though it was still early in the evening, like between 6 and 7 o’clock Azzi didn’t care. Paige needed her, so with Paige she would be.

Honestly if Azzi had a choice she would go to bed early every night if she could if it meant getting to be this close to Paige.

Paige on the other hand didn’t get much rest, waking up at 11 to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Azzi feeling the emptiness next to her immediately got up grabbed a blanket off of Paige’s bean bag chair and the water off her nightstand, following her into the bathroom and placed the blanket on her lap holding her hair back.

“I’m never drinking again.” Paige croaked leaning her forehead against Azzi’s shoulder.

“It’s okay Paigey, I’m here.” Azzi said soothingly rubbing her hand against her back.

Paige turned to look at her, eyes glazed, some of the alcohol still running through her veins.

“I love you so much Azzi.” She whispered.

“I love you too Pai-“ Paige cut her off before she could finish putting her finger to her lip.

“No I don’t just love you like before. I love you like I wanna be with you forever and ever. I love you because you would hang the moon for me.” Paige says softly.

Azzi is surprised by this, she doesn’t exactly know what to say. Paige still is surely drunk, but she doesn’t know just how drunk seeing as she has thrown up a lot of what she drank.

Before she had to chance to say anything, Paige ends up throwing up again, breaking the loud silence.

After another 20 minutes of sitting there, Paige’s body leaned up against Azzi, Paige falls back to sleep.

Azzi, feeling the limpness of her body, carries her to her bedroom and plops her back into the bed, tucking the sheets tightly around her before climbing in with her.

The next time they wake up fortunately it is morning. Paige is still asleep, so Azzi decides to go look for some sort of hangover food to give Paige when she wakes up.

After looking in almost every cabinet there was literally nothing. Azzi resorted to running and jumping into her car to grab her some fries from McDonald’s.

Almost 10 minutes later, Paige started reaching behind her noticing the empty space behind her on the bed. Paige darts up immediately regretting it feeling the blood rush to her throbbing head.

She struggles to find her phone in the covers. When all of a sudden she hears the door unlock, and her nose picks up on the salty smell of the fries, her mouth immediately watering, and in walks Azzi.

Her heart fills, tugging Azzi towards her a few fries flying into the air.

“I thought I scared you away with what I said yesterday, or this morning, I don’t even know…” Paige trails off muffled into her chest.

“You remembered?” Azzi says extending her arms so she can look at her.

“Uhm ya I wasn’t even that drunk.” Paige says putting her hands up.

Azzi raises her eyebrow.

“You were pretty drunk.”

“Okay well whatever that’s beside the point, I meant every word I said. I love you. I always have loved you. I can’t imagine my life without you. You take care of me, you love me, why can’t we just be together. I don’t wanna just kiss you. I wanna do so much more. I wanna love every inch of you, I wanna do everything with you, have a family maybe, get a house, I don’t know, and I don’t care as long as you are in it.” Paige says gasping for air as she trials on until Azzi cuts her off.

“I love you too Paige. I just didn’t know how to tell you she says, tears forming in her eyes at Paige’s words.

“You didn’t have to say anything I could tell. You make me feel like nothing else matters.” Paige sniffled back tears of her own placing her hands on Azzi’s face.

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you too. I love you so much Paige, and I always will.”

Azzi says grabbing the bag of fries and holding it up.

“You were so hung over late last night already I thought you might need some hangover food… I also thought I could make it back before you got up but I guess I was wrong, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Azzi says opening the bag and grabbing a fry and shoving it into Paiges mouth stopping her from talking.

“Ketchup?” Paige asks mouth full.

“Wow, no faith in me huh?” Azzi says pulling out two packets of ketchup and squirting it into another fry watching Paige open her mouth again expecting Azzi to feed her again.

She complies sticking the fry into her mouth with a laugh. A little bit of ketchup fell onto Azzi’s finger. Before she notices, paige sticks out her tongue and sucks on her finger. Her cheeks hollowing as she bobs up and down on her finger teasingly.

Azzi’s breath shifts with the tension in the room growing thick.

“You wanna take off my clothes again?” Paige smirks looking at Azzi’s finger covered in her saliva. Without saying anything they connect their lips. Azzi pushes Paige back against the sheets leaning over her pinning her arms above her head. Paige just smirks watching as Azzi takes off her sweatshirt revealing her beautiful breasts underneath. Paige strains under Azzi’s restraint wanting nothing more than to wrap her lips around her chocolate nipples, but Azzi only tightens her grip.

“You let me get you right first, then maybe I’ll let you touch.” Azzi says pressing her lips against her neck tracking kisses all along her jaw and trailing down her stomach. When she gets to her waist she sucks and leaves three hickeys along her waist band.

“All mine.” She says softly almost a whisper, making Paige whimper against her touch. Her hips subconsciously thrusting towards her desperately needing to be touched.

Azzi wraps her fingers lips around her sweatpants and pulls them down along with her panties.

“You have definitely been this wet since last night when I took your clothes off the first time huh.” Azzi said confidently stroking her inner thigh observing the way her legs twitched for her.

Paige let out a shaken breath, raising her pussy towards Azzi’s mouth craving her fingers, her mouth, literally anything.

Azzi instead reaches over to the bag of French fries and eats one.

“No way you are eating a fry when my pussy is literally in your face.” Paige whines frustrated, attempting to close her legs to squeeze or get some form of closure from the throbbing at her clit.

Azzi lowers herself at that, leveling herself with her aching pussy.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” Azzi says dominantly leaning over Paige again and running her fingers closer and closer to where she wants her most.

“So bad, please anything. Azzi please, need you.” Paige whines attempting to release her hands but is abruptly stoped by the overpowering sensation of Azzi’s tongue against her clit.

Azzi starts by pressing soft kitten licks at her clit, releasing paige’s hands from her grip so she can use her other hand to separate her folds.

“Such a good girl for me huh.” Azzi whispers into her pussy as Paige lets out a loud moan.

Azzi licks her tongue all the way from her entrance back up to her clit, continuing to tease her switching back and forth between soft kitten licks and small circles. Paige is now a series of moans and whines. Azzi experiments, seeing what gets her to moan the loudest. She ends up sucking on her clit lapping at it, then sucking again.

“Yes oh my fucking god yes Azzi, right there. Don’t stop.” Paige whimpers attaching her hand into Azzi’s hair and pushing her down to add pressure.

Azzi hums into her pussy continuing to lick and dip it into her hole.

“So close omfg.” Paige says in between moans.

Hearing this Azzi stops. Paige looks at her distressed when all of sudden she thrusts two fingers into her stretching her out and pounding into her.

“Oh god Azzi.” Paige moans throwing her head back and Azzi reattaches her mouth to her clit pounding her fingers in and out of her.

“I’m gonna cum oh my god. Don’t you dare stop.”

Azzi feels paige’s gummy walls tighten around her fingers. Smirking she continues to pound into her motivated by her loud moans.

A band snaps in her stomach and Paige crumbles beneath her into a series of moans pulling at Azzi’s curls as Azzi continues to ride out her high.

“Azzi oh my god why the fuck is that the first time we have done that.”

Azzi laughs.

“ya I don’t know” she says laying down next to her on the bed.

She is ready to cuddle, a little aftercare hopefully, when all of a sudden, paige is on top of her kissing her shoving her tongue into her mouth massaging her tongue with her own.

“I can’t be the only one with no pants on” paige says with a smirk. Briskly ripping them off and shoving her hand against her panties. Azzi moans loudly in shock, the feeling of paige’s fingers against her core was one she could get used to.

“Wow this wet just from my pussy?”

Azzi nods shakily letting out another breathy moan as Paige toys with her clit through her panties.

“Use your words baby.” Paige says pulling her panties to the side and running her fingers through her slick.

“Yes all from you.” Azzi moans begging to be touched.

Paige waists no time thrusting her pointer finger inside her in and out while using her thumb to rub at her clit.

Azzi clings to her as she feels her legs start to shake.

“ More please more” Azzi begs craving more of paige to be inside of her.

Paige adds another finger continuing to pound in and out of her hitting her G spot Azzi arches into her grinding against her fingers to get more friction.

“You need more sweet girl?” Paige questions pulling her fingers out to put them in Azzi’s mouth. Azzi bobs her head against her fingers, nodding.

Once they are covered in spit, paige pulls them out of her mouth and plunges three back into Azzi grabbing her cheeks and pulling her into a long wet kiss swallowing her moans.

She begins to feel Azzi’s walls tighten.

Azzi can feel that band in her stomach ripping. The orgasim crashing down on her hard with every thrust of paige’s fingers.

“Holy shit im so close” azzi groans

Paige presses down on her stomach with her other hand. Instantly Azzi lets out a series of moans as her band snaps and she gushes her juices out. Paige lowers herself to clean Azzi up licking up every bit and savoring her juices before coming back up and kissing Azzi letting her taste herself.

“You’re amazing” she whispers into her ear snuggling up against her.

“Ya ya, I love you too.” Azzi responds her focus beginning fade.

They lay there together just enjoying each others company.

After like 30 minutes Azzi can’t take in any longer.

“Paige?”

“Yes baby?”

“I’m hungry”

“There are some fries.”

“I don’t want that. We worked up an appetite. I need real food.”

“Fine we can go get some.” Paige sighed rolling out of bed throwing on a pair of sweats before handing Azzi some of her own.

They walked out of the dorm together running to Aubrey.

“Guess you’re not that sad about how you played anymore huh.” Aubrey said chuckling at the two staring lovingly at each other.

“Nah nothing really matters anymore.” Paige said wrapping her arm around Azzi securely.

All her problems seemed to fade aways with Azzi near. And it seemed like there was gonna be a lot less problems now that she had finally bagged her.

#azzi fudd #pazzi fics #pazzi #paige bueckers #i love azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi fic

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svndaysaweek · 1 year ago

Text

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on.

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder.

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down.

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass.

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom.

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear.

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that.

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan.

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you.

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes.

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you.

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more.

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.” With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind.

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #karina smut #aespa smut

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dragonnarrative-writes · 23 days ago

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Feeding your favorite artist's or writer's work into any form of gen ai feels profoundly sad to me. It's like... Taking popcorn we've popped to share with anyone who wants some, carrying a sack of it outside of the room, and feeding it through a machine that produces... stale, slightly damp popcorn. And all of the reasons given are things like "I couldn't wait for the next part" or "I don't know how to write myself" or "I don't want other people involved in my fandom experience, I just want this template."

Do you really dislike us that much? Are we so bad and scary?

Every author that I've ever spoken to by saying "hey, I really love this aspect of your work," has been really kind and excited to talk to me about it. So many people here dedicate hours at a time to talk about their head cannons and play in the sandbox with anyone who bothers to answer a question, via text and art and audio. Not everyone can, but it's fun when we do. And every single one of them would love to talk about their process, how they got to where they are, and any resources or exercises they use.

Is it that you don't believe we don't deserve the time we need to make something we like enough to share it? We should give you content no matter what, on your schedule?

I don't have time to write as often as I would like because I work a very stressful job, and the mental toll can sometimes be... a lot. When I force myself to try to make anything in that condition, I end up with something I don't like. It takes time to get in the right mindset. And then it takes time to actually put the words down - even if I'm not editing much, I only write at about 20hsh words a minute. My boyfriend writes 2 thousand of words in a good day, but when each chapter is 3k+ words that is still more than a day of writing. The author's giving you 17, 18k words per update? They're amazing, and still people. We're not machines, literally, so... Let us have the time?

I think most people who use gen ai would say "no, that's not it!" But I think if that's you, you should ask yourself if you ever actually thought to ask yourself those questions.

#saw tojisun lamenting #and it got me to thinking #the problem as i see it #is that so many people experience fandom as “content” that just “appears”#and Content Culture discourages people from thinking about how it gets produced #but guess what?#everything you've ever enjoyed took time and thought and action #im rambling again #anti ai #about dragon #fandom and ethics

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call-me-mother-darling · 1 month ago

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Breeder

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Authors note: I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you to Grey's anatomy for the idea. I couldn't not do it, Emily with gray hair is too die for. This is one of two fics this week. I will have one coming out on my normal schedule. Y'all deserve a gift though and this is that. I’m not gonna lie this is not my best writing. Later on I might re-edit and update this. If I do I’ll repost it and let y’all know. Much love 💋

Plot: You've just started at the BAU only to find out your boss is the woman you've been admiring at the jazz club.

Warnings: breeding kink, strap on, dirty talk, consensually getting fucked into oblivion, anxiety, first day jitters, feminine reader, mention of teens getting tortured (Voit case in CM:Evolution), mention of whip marks, mentally drained, letting yourself submit to your boss ;) she’ll take care of you, (If I missed any lmk)

Word count: 3170

An alarm blares in my ear pulling a groan from my lips. God already? Today is my first day in this new unit. The Behavior Analysis Unit, a group of highly intelligent individuals that can tell how you're feeling with one glance. While you would think that is an amazing thing, I do not. Being a private and anxious person, the thought of the team knowing what I truly feel is terrifying, I can’t protect myself that way. It’s like giving up control. I stare at the ceiling while all these situations cycle through my brain.

Deep breaths, you got this. They wouldn’t have picked you if they didn’t want you. You’re there for a reason.

I try to remind myself. I think back to my mothers words. ‘If you are feeling anxious, take a step back, take a deep breath and move on. The worst thing you can do is dwell on the fact that you can’t control it.’ As much as I hated her for that, she is right. I can’t control how my day goes but I can control how I react to them.

I will myself to sit up and stand in front of my bathroom mirror. My hair is everywhere and I can practically smell my breath. I grab my tooth brush and handle my morning breath before pulling my hair into a tight slick back ponytail.

My phone started to buzz and I run to my night stand to pick it up. A cheery voice on the other side played in my ear.

“Good morning sweet pea! My name is Penelope but you can call me Pen. Before you ask how I got your number, I would like you to know I am the Technical Analyst for the BAU. Your information was pretty easy to find.” I take a deep breath letting my worry go.

“I wanted to call you because newbies can get nervous coming in to work with such an amazing team. I wanted to reassure you that everyone here is beyond excited for your arrival. Your work is extraordinary.” She pauses.

“Thank you Penelope. I honestly really needed that.” I say and I can practically feel her beaming through the phone.

“No problem sweet cheeks. See you in a little.”

“See you in a little, bye Pen.” I say.

“Bye hun.” She giggles and ends the call.

I really hope she was right. I even picked out an outfit last night so I wouldn't panic this morning. I put on my black slacks and a red sweater that has a neckline so low it’s not always work appropriate. If I just keep pulling it down in the back it should be fine.

Should be.

When I make it to the office I’m shaking. The anxiety has fully taken over my body. What if I don’t perform as well as they think? What if I just start word vomiting? Oh god anything but that. That’s so embarrassing. These people barely know me and the thought of me accidentally telling them some embarrassing story almost made me walk out of the building.

But before I could fully think of running away a squeal echoes through the lobby. A woman dressed in bright colors and a huge smile on her face runs towards me. Given her bright energy I can only assume this is the woman I talked to on the phone this morning.

“You’re here! Can I hug you?” I let out an awkward giggle and nod. Who am I to deny a hug, especially from this ray of sunshine.

“Yay! I’m so happy you're here! I’ve been looking at all your reports and I am just amazed at how your brain works.” Penelope squeals, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

“You’re too sweet Penelope but thank you. I am quite nervous.” I say shakily, wrapping my arms lightly around her. But she abruptly pulls back and holds my shoulders in her hands.

“You are going to be great. You may have to do it scared but you can and will do it. You can do things even if you're scared.” She says sternly but with a sweet smile.

I nod along and visibly relax at her words. I can already tell she is going to be my best friend. Someone I go to when I’m on the verge of going insane. I can already tell she helps keep the team grounded with just her energy. Given they see so much blood and dead bodies everyday I can only imagine how refreshing it is to have someone so aggressively positive.

“Come on, let's get you upstairs.” She says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes.” I say and begin to follow her to the elevators.

“Pen, I have a question.” I say and Pen looks my way once the elevator doors close.

“What is it sweet cheeks?” She asks.

“Is there anything I should know about the team? Like touchy subjects or how strict they are. Especially the unit chief. People have said she's scary.” I ask hesitantly and she lets out a small laugh.

“Oh honey you will get along perfectly fine with the unit chief. I can already tell she’ll take a liking to you.” She says, eyeing me up and down. I want to question what she means by that, and the look she's giving me along with it, but I choose to keep that question to myself.

“As for everyone else, they are very welcoming. Tara and Luke will act like your brother and sister once you get to know them, they are known for ‘adopting the newbies’. Rossi is like your old Italian grandpa. I think that explains him enough.” She giggles

“ JJ is the motherly figure of the group but she can be closed off so don’t pry with her. She will open up when she feels it’s time. Saying that though, she is the sweetest person you will ever meet. Now Emily, the unit chief. She’s your boss so treat her as such. She is the best of the best. She will know you inside and out within the first month. There’s no fighting it, I just want you to be prepared. I know that is a lot of information but these people will have you back no matter what. They are also super excited to meet you.” Penelope finishes. I take a deep breath just in time for the doors to open and Penolope to pull me to the bullpen.

Okay this is it.

I follow her closely trying to keep my strides consistent. As soon as I walk in I am bombarded with greetings and three people surrounding me. They all introduce themselves politely.

JJ, Tara, and Luke.

“Guys we have new information on Voit. Welcome to the team.” A low sultry voice rings through the office causing all of us to look in her direction.

Oh shit.

My eyes go wide. There's no way she’s my new boss. Out of everyone in the world, it’s her.

I have admired a woman at the jazz club every sunday for the last month or so. I thought it was something innocent. I would only admire from afar. I promised myself I wouldn't go up to her or try to find more information. I just needed something to look forward to, to get through my week. But no, here she is in all her glory. Looking even more beautiful. In this lighting I can see her whole face, the way the silver in her hair sparkles and how perfect her teeth are when she smiles. She has such a perfect smile.

No. That's weird, stop.

I come back to reality to see her staring back at me.

This is going to be a long case.

The team and I make our way to the conference room. I had already been sent all the information on Voit the day prior. The man is way too good. I believe they are towards the end of the case. I know they are looking for the orphanage of these kids. What’s happening to them is unimaginable.

Upon entering the conference room all chairs were taken.

Literally my worst nightmare.

“Hey, you can have my seat.” Luke offers me. I nod politely and let him push my chair in. The Ipad, with all the information I may need, right in front of me.

God this is going to be rough. Scrolling through to pictures on Ipad it shows teens thrown on the concrete floor with whip marks on their back. Some look healed, others are still bleeding. My heart aches for these children. No child deserves to go through this.

“I know these are horrendous but we need to keep a level head. These kids need us so let's figure this out.” Emily says reassuring the team, being the strength for the team.

We spent the next week working on this case, we were all so exhausted. Tara, Luke, and I go out for breakfast the day after we found the building, saving most of the children. Luke’s eye bags were dark and you could tell he could barely keep his eyes open. Tara being in the same state along with her slouching. I don’t want to know how I even look. The waiter has come and gone, putting water in front of us and quickly taking our order. While we wait Tara and Luke fill the silence.

“So now that we have time to actually get to know you, tell me about your crush on Em.” Tara says, eyeing my reaction. I couldn't help but be shocked.

“What? What do you mean?” I ask. There's no way I can tell them about my adoration for her.

“Oh come on, we see the way you look at her. Like she can solve all your problems, like she's the only one in this world.” Tara says with certainty. Luke nods in agreement.

“There's no way you don’t know you're doing it. Even Emily can tell.” I look at Luke mortified.

“She’s noticed?” I ask in a panic causing them both to chuckle tiredly.

“Well you’re not necessarily sly about it.” Tara says.

“Oh god, my first case and I'm already exposing my mommy issues.” The two laugh at that.

The waiter brings over our food when the bell rings above the door signally someone has entered. I don’t pay any mind to it until a strong hand rests on my shoulder, making me jump out of my seat a little.

“Sorry hun I didn’t mean to scare you so much. I hope you don’t mind me joining you guys, I'm starving.” She smirks at me while placing herself on my side of the booth.

The waiter comes over and quickly takes Emily’s order. Her hand rests on my thigh causing my cheeks to heat up.

“So what were you guys talking about that got her so flustered?” Emily asks.

Tara smirks at me and my eyes go wide begging her to keep quiet.

“We were just talking about her little crush on someone with a higher ranking.” Even through her tiredness Tara still teases me. Emily smirks and looks my way.

“Oh yeah? Who might that be, cutie?” Emily says as her food is placed in front of her.

“That’s none of your concern.” I sass, there is no way I am telling her that.

Being too focused on finishing my meal I miss the glance between Tara, Emily, and Luke. We all attempt to finish our meals and get a to go box for whatever we didn’t finish. The ride back was suffocating with tension you can cut through with a knife. With Emily glancing at me everytime we hit a red light, knuckles turning white as she grips the steering wheel. Luke and Tara had taken the car we came here in and Emily insisted I go with her. She said it’s a newbie's right, whatever that means. When we make it back to the office she looks at me with this longing.

“I know none of us finished our reports last night so when you finish them I want to see you in my office. Something came to my attention during this case that I want to go over with you..” I simply nod in agreement and got out of the car. Questions racing through my brain.

What if I fucked up the case some how? What if I did something wrong and I am getting fired? I hate when boss’s do this. Last time I got called into the boss’s office I got sent here. Theres no way I fucked up that bad.

I wander to my desk and type away on the computer, the one thing I’m not a huge fan of is these reports. They drag on and to remember every detail is difficult, especially when you're so exhausted. By the time I am done with these reports my fingertips feel like they are ready to fall off and my eye lids barely stay open. This part of the case is tough. These kids were tortured for their whole life. Not to mention our team almost got blown up. I understand why she did what she did, I would’ve done the same thing to a place that hurt me so deeply.

I hit print on my report and make my way to the printer which happens to be in Penelope's office. They told me since I am new I need to wait for them to install a printer at my desk, they said it was on backorder.

“Hey hot stuff, you okay?” A calm sweet voice asks.

“Yeah I’m okay, thank you Pen.” I say with a tired smile.

“I’m guessing these are yours.” She says handing me the reports.

I nod and take the papers from her hands.

“I’m serious Pen. Thank you for being my sunshine this week. I really needed it.” I say rubbing her shoulder. If it wasn’t for her I would’ve had a breakdown.

“It’s no problem hun, this case has been difficult for everyone. You did well considering this is your first week.” Penelope comforts me. A tired chuckle escapes my lips.

“Yeah, well it sure ran me into the ground.” I say walking out of her office and make my way to Emily’s.

I knock on her door and wait for a response.

“Come in.” A tired voice answers and when I step in she looks so tired. She looks up at me and I swear her eyes light up.

“Hi, please sit.” She motions to the seat across from her desk. I sit in the chair handing her the report.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask nervously.

“No, darling. You’ve just seemed a little nervous and I thought I could help with that.” her voice sultry.

She slowly pushes her chair back and walks around to the back of my chair, like a lioness hunting her prey. Her hands grip my shoulder, pressing her thumbs into my muscle massaging out the knots. A small hum escapes my lips. I can sense her bend down, breath close to my ear.

“Mmmm I love the noises you make.” She whispers.

“Come on baby, why don’t you go bend over my desk so I can admire you.” I nod my head quickly following her command. I let go of all anxiety and let her guide me with words.

“Before we start, let's discuss rules. If you are uncomfortable just let me know and we will stop, no questions asked. You can address me as ma’am or mommy. Whatever you are comfortable with sweet thing.” I nod along practically melting at the pet name. I stand in front of her chair facing her. She stalks around me once again. Putting her hand on my hips and pressing hers against mine.

“Here is what’s gonna happen. I’m going to take these off.” She pulls at the waist band on my slacks.

“Then I’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you till you forget your name. How does that sound?” Emily says, voice dripping with command. Her dominance taking over my being and I submit to her.

“That's it angel, I got you.” She hums, unbuttoning my slacks, pulling them down along with my panties. Leaving me in my black stilettos. She looks me in my eyes with so much love and desire. Like not only was she ready to ravage my soul but let me become her world. Like I am the only woman she’s ever wanted to be with.

Her lips meet mine. She kisses with the same desire that I saw in her eyes. She kissed me like she’d never get the chance again. She pulled away, letting her hand turn me around and bend me over the desk. Her hands rubbing up and down my hips.

Her hands caress my inner thigh, slowly spreading them. When my full weight is on the table in front of me and legs are spread so much they are shaking, her fingers run through my slit. I can feel my wetness cover her soft fingertips.

“I’ve been dreaming about this.” She confesses, circling my clit. A moan is pulled from my lips and I try to move further into her hand, searching for more friction.

“Patience, sweet thing.” She hums unbuttoning her pants running the strap through my folds.

“This okay baby?” She asks and I nod quickly.

“Please.” I whimper.

She slips her strap into me letting out a groan. Her hips move against mine, starting with slow rhythmic motions.

“You're just my little cum slut, huh baby? Letting me breed this pretty pussy.” Emily whispers in my ear. My breath hitches as her strap pumps into me.

“Yes ma’am. I belong to you.” I say breathlessly.

Her thrusts start to become relentless, she pounds into me. Everytime our hips meet a moan escapes my lips. Her hand rubs up my back till she secures it around my throat applying pressure. My head goes fuzzy as her other hand wraps around my body to rub my clit.

“Yes, fuck. Right there ma’am.” I moan leaning into her touch.

Everything feels so good I can feel the coil winding up.

“Awe is my pretty girl gonna cum for mommy?” She teases.

“Yes, please mommy? Can I cum? Please mommy I’ll be good, I promise.” I beg.

Her hand tightens around my throat as she pounds into me harder. Her skilled fingers rubbing tighter circles around my clit.

“Cum for me baby.” She grunts moving her hand over my mouth as I practically scream her name. Her thrusts become softer as she helps me ride out my high.

“That's it baby. Deep breaths.” She says pulling out of me.

Her hands move to my hair, gently moving it behind my ear and kissing my shoulder.

“You did so good for me baby.” Emily comforts me. I turn around, taking the strap off of her and hugging her tightly.

“It’s okay baby, I got you. I’m not going anywhere.” Her arms tighten around my body, kissing my forehead.

“I got you, I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats.

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