#small things. butterfly effect
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ethereance · 1 year ago
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Au where Keith gets a few more future flashes in the quantum abyss than he did in canon. Now armed with the knowledge of many future plot points, he sets out to make things right.
Or at least. He tries.
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tricoufamily · 1 year ago
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visiting the hometown
(want everyone to know this edit came to me in a dream and i changed the lore just to do it)
#in the dream i was like editing it but i was also there? it was weird. it started as a dream about lawson in a zombie apocalypse#ok important tags first so i can write an essay#ts4#ts4 render#ts4 edit#the sims 4#beckett#lawson#blood sports#but yeah if you haven't been here before beckett and lawson never knew each other as kids#if they did it would be a butterfly effect and mess w a bunch of other plot details. so i decided to work around it#also if ur new they've had a friends with benefits thing going on for a long time but lawson is in love with him. beck doesn't know#originally beckett was put in foster care as a baby bc of neglect and was bounced around foster homes for years#he was a troubled child always getting in fights a kleptomaniac undiagnosed autism etc etc foster families tried and just didn't want him#then when he was around 12 a very nice old lady named cora got him and they ended up forming a great bond they loved each other#she was going to adopt him then when beckett was around 15 or 16 his birth mother reentered the picture and wanted him back#it started a really nasty legal battle and cora died. we can't say for sure it was the stress of this fight but beckett certainly thinks so#anyway he did go back with his birth mother and things got really bad for him. he dropped out of school started doing worse crimes and so o#but none of that is what even changed#now LAWSON is also from west virigina like beckett. it's a small town lawson was new he had no friends#he was a very clingy possessive child who cried and threw tantrums so much#he met beckett and the rest is history. beckett didn't really mind how lawson acted he didn't really find him annoying like everyone elsedi#besides he didn't have friends either#lawson has wealthy parents they were welcoming to beckett at first if a little apprehensive. then he stole something from their house#and lawson wasn't allowed to hang out with him anymore. but he still did in secret. they still have no idea that beckett's even still aroun#or just how involved lawson is with him and his. activities 😬 they just think he's their good little college boy#in the original beckett moved to Not Gotham City when his mother got him back but in this version lawson is going to college there#and beckett's been distant from him for a while things are awful for him and lawson says hey. what if you gave the city a try. and he did#so really you could say the events of blood sports are all lawson's fault the end
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phlurrii · 2 years ago
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Phlurrii.....
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Phlurriiiiii......
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Phlurrii I'm scared.....
Ideally I’d want to comfort you, tell you it’ll totally all be fine… but no, no no, this all going down hill, rapidly. You should be scared, if not down right terrified.
And this is just the first horrible domino ;w; I’m so sorry in advance.
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hussyknee · 2 years ago
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What.
It's kind of tragic how homophobia affects insecure men.
Like sometimes they want to experiment with a bit of anal and instead of just buying a sex toy and some lube like a normal person, they instead shove random objects up their ass that inevitably get stuck and then they try to get them out by themselves which makes things worse and then they lie to doctors about it and like this all leads to all kinds of extra complications like internal damage, risk of infections, bleeding, the fall of Yugoslavia, etc.
Come on guys, just buy a dildo. It's way safer and it leads to way fewer problems.
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cookie-de-baunilha · 1 year ago
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i’m sorry i’m not in the mood to elaborate but the whole “claire can change small things in the past but not big things” concept makes no sense at all
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rika-mmendmethings · 13 days ago
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Baby Boss-Man (or Boss Baby?) l Sylus
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Summary: One misfire of another one of Philip's odd inventions and Sylus is aged back to a five-year-old bundle of chaos version of himself. But as you try to survive his oversized cuteness, you can't help but catch baby fever. When the antidote arrives, you're sure that you'll be rid of those thoughts. The only difference is that Sylus intends to make them real.
Warning(s): Tooth-rotting fluff, baby fever, temporary age regression, written with female reader in mind, might die from the cute aggression you get from five-year-old Sylus, short and sweet, suggestive at the end, cheesy, kissing, pet names like kitten used.
Word count: 2.6k
Now playing: Honeypie by JAWNY
Notes: Based on this request. I'm a bit late but as promised here it is. I felt like I was writing Feline Hexes all over again because the fluff surely measured up to that one. Had me rolling in the feels. Okay enough yapping, hope y'all enjoy it especially you bestie @sylusgirlie7 ♥
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You had accompanied Sylus to the Odd Workshop since you needed to have your hunter weapon modified anyway. Flashing a polite smile at Philip in greeting, you handed over your gun for him to begin his work. You took a seat nearby, exchanging idle conversation with Philip while keeping an eye on Sylus from your periphery as he wandered around the workshop, poking at things with curious fingers.
Once Philip completed the modification, you tested your weapon and hummed in satisfaction — the result was flawless. Just as you were about to thank him, a loud buzz shattered the eerie quiet that usually hung in the air.
You whipped your head around, eyes scanning for Sylus, but he was nowhere in sight. Alarmed, you called out, “Sylus?”
“Yeah?” came a small, chirpy voice.
Your gaze dropped to a heap of familiar-looking clothes on the floor. You gasped when a tuft of white hair peeked out from beneath them. Wide, crimson, doe-like eyes stared up at you — and in a shocking moment of realization, you understood: it was Sylus. Your boyfriend. But now, in the body of a five-year-old.
“Help!” he squeaked, little arms flailing beneath the pile of oversized clothing. “I’m stuck!”
You quickly bent down and freed him, lifting his tiny form out of the tangled garments — leaving behind his shoes, belt, and pants, which were now comically too large for him. The shirt hung from his frame like a cloak, sleeves completely swallowing his arms. Despite the confusion, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
Gently, you wrapped the lower half of his shirt around his legs and rolled up the sleeves, messily tying it together to make it wearable. You cradled him in your arms, cocooned in his own shirt.
Philip approached, his face sheepish as his eyes flicked between the smoldering wreckage of a device on the floor and the now miniaturized Sylus in your arms. You could practically see steam rising from Sylus’s tiny ears in outrage.
Scratching the back of his neck, Philip offered a half-hearted explanation, “That was... um, my latest invention. I created a fluid designed to revert a plant to its seed form — or a butterfly back to a caterpillar. I didn’t realize the jet injector would actually work on humans too…heh.”
Philip’s words only seemed to further ignite Sylus’s temper. You noticed the telltale shimmer of his Evol — the familiar red energy crackling around his tiny form, pulsing with irritation. You gently patted his head, offering what little comfort you could, then set him carefully on his feet, telling him to go somewhere so as to not risk the chances of Philip being evaporated. Sylus reluctantly agreed and trotted away after promising to not touch anything else. 
You turned back to Philip, exhaling a slow breath. “The longer he stays like this, the angrier he gets,” you said. “Do you have anything that can reverse the effect?”
Philip tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes drifting toward the remnants of his failed invention. “Nothing at the moment,” he admitted. “But I have been developing a counter-agent — something to reverse the regression effect. I’ve got a few prototypes I can begin testing right away. If I manage to create a viable solution, I’ll have Luke and Kieran deliver it to you.”
“How long do you think that’ll take?” you asked, brow furrowed.
“Give me five, maybe six hours,” he replied. “I’ll work as quickly as I can.”
You nodded in understanding. Five to six hours with a miniaturized Sylus… manageable. Hopefully.
After exchanging a few more words with Philip — mostly warnings and a half-hearted apology from his side — you turned to look for your pint-sized lover. What greeted you nearly made you choke on a laugh.
You had turned your back for five minutes.
He’s drawn an elaborate chalk mural on the wall featuring Philip as a monster and you as a superhero wielding a gun of justice.
Philip stares at it.
"...He’s not wrong," you say, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard at his antics. Philip just sighs, returning inside to work on the prototype before bidding you goodbye.
You made your way over to your tiny lover, who immediately turned around with an eager gleam in his crimson eyes. He patted the wall’s surface with one small hand, proudly trying to divert your attention to what he clearly deemed a masterpiece. You couldn’t help but smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his soft white hair, lifting him easily into your arms before praising him for his creation, watching as his ears turn slightly pinkish. 
The walk back to his mansion was surprisingly short, not because of the distance, but because of the constant stream of animated chatter coming from Sylus. You hum and respond once in a while, eyes locked on his round face. You’d often wondered what Sylus had been like as a child since he didn’t really have any childhood photos or any sweet memories of those sorts. You once even assumed that he’d had probably been an overall aloof child considering his normal nature. 
But clearly you were mistaken because little Sylus was far from indifferent. He was shorter, chubbier and a total chatterbox with full energy. He kept pressing his tiny palms against your cheeks, forcing your attention to remain on him rather than on the passing scenery. Something about it stirred a deep, unfamiliar sense of affection within you — maternal, perhaps, or simply overwhelming tenderness.
“Whatcha thinking?” He asked, peering up at you from beneath long ivory lashes. 
“I’m thinking…” you began as you stepped into the mansion and carefully kicked off your shoes, mindful not to jostle him, “I could have five little yous running around and still never get tired.”
Sylus giggled, and the sound was so sweet — so utterly uncharacteristic of the man you knew — that it made your heart swell. You cooed at him in response, smiling as his ears turned pink once again. It struck you then — he must have always gotten shy when praised by someone he loved.
You set him down gently and made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water for him. As you filled it, you called out, “Luke? Kieran?”
The twins appeared a second later, popping their heads out from behind a wall in perfect sync before strolling over to you. They leaned casually on the dining table, voices overlapping as they spoke in unison.
“Yes, Missus?”
You handed Sylus the water and turned back to them. “If you get a call from Philip this evening, go to the Odd Workshop and collect whatever he gives you.”
The two exchanged glances and nodded but still asked, “What for, Missus?”
“Sylus turned into the five-year-old version of himself as a result of playing with one of Philip’s peculiar inventions. Philip will be creating a counter-agent to reverse that effect by evening. So, you’ll be picking it up from his place.”
The twins looked at you like you grew two heads before sharing a subtle glance with each other. Their gazes followed you as you walked over to little Sylus and offered him the glass of water. You heard them gasp from behind you as they saw their miniaturized boss-man.
“No gin fizz?” Little Sylus asked, his lips forming a small pout. You patted his head twice, making him finish the glass of water before responding, “You’re five, Sylus.”
“Only by body.” He protested half-heartedly, allowing you to walk away toward the kitchen counter. He noticed the twins staring at him, their jaws dropped in disbelief. He shot them a menacing glare that, unfortunately, didn’t carry much weight due to his adorably cute face.
“Do you think boss-man would like uppies?” Luke whispered to Kieran after a moment of silence.
“Try it, and I’ll break your hands.” Sylus threatened, though the menace was undermined by the childish lilt in his voice. The twins zoomed out of the room in response, but it didn’t take long before they returned, each holding one of the plushies you’d collected over time. They also sported silly hats with fans attached to them, which they had somehow managed to get onto Mephisto as well. Waving the plushies in front of little Sylus’ face, Kieran added, “If not uppies, then surely boss-man would like toys?”
Luke furrowed his brow, falling deep into thought. “Is it ‘boss-man’ or ‘baby boss-man’ now?”
“I think the latter. But is ‘baby boss-man’ okay, or should we change it to ‘boss baby,’ like in the movie?” Kieran voiced his own opinion, and the two of them pondered in silence, while Mephisto let out curious caws in the background.
You could see the slight twitch of annoyance in your lover’s brows as you cut up some fruit for him. His expression made it clear he wasn’t exactly amused by their antics. A few moments later, the twins’ yelps filled the room, followed by the sound of Sylus’s evol lifting them off the ground before spinning them in circles. You didn’t need to look back to confirm — his mischievous smirk was practically radiating from the air.
After a few more minutes, you spoke over your shoulder, “Sylus, that’s enough. Put the twins down.”
He slumped his shoulders, his lips pressed in a pout, but despite his reluctance, he complied.
The twins clutched their heads, their faces pale, leaning against each other to steady themselves. They now knew little Sylus’ favorite game, and with that newfound knowledge, they’d be sure to avoid becoming part of it ever again. Meanwhile, Mephisto emitted unintelligible chatters that almost sounded mocking, as if he were laughing at the twins, prompting them to chase after the crow in frustration.
You pick up the fruit bowl you prepared earlier and make your way over to your miniaturized boyfriend. Gently lifting him into your arms, you carry him to his study and settle into the plush sofa, carefully positioning him on your lap. His gaze immediately lands on the fruit bowl, and you already know — he’s not eating a bite unless you feed him yourself.
Without a word, you pick up an apple slice and bring it to his expectant mouth. He takes it without hesitation, and a fond smile spreads across your lips as you watch him chew with slow, deliberate movements, his tiny baby teeth working adorably. Your eyes wander to his miniature hands, chubby fingers, and the soft curve of his cheeks — each feature impossibly cute and heart-melting. A strange warmth blossoms in your chest.
Once he dutifully finishes the fruit, you shower his face with gentle kisses, unable to resist his charm. You take a playful bite of his squishy cheek, and he squirms away with a bashful laugh, flustered but delighted.
You stretch out your legs, adjusting him slightly on your lap just as Mephisto comes swooping into the study. The mechanical crow flaps in with a small box tied to his claws and drops it onto the table. Your eyes flick to the label — it’s a parcel from Philip. The antidote.
Opening the box, you find a syringe filled with a strange-looking fluid. Meanwhile, Sylus is preoccupied with Mephisto, tugging at the poor bird with all the curiosity and strength of a toddler. You gently free the distressed crow from his tiny grasp and let him fly away with a disgruntled caw.
You prepare the syringe, mentally rehearsing how to administer it without making Sylus cry. But to your astonishment, he simply extends his arm, blinking at you calmly like he was born for this moment. You barely suppress the laughter bubbling in your throat as you inject the cure into his arm. Once done, you toss the used materials into the waste bin nearby.
Little Sylus settles back against you, his small head nestled against your chest and his arms resting at his sides. He lets out a soft yawn, eyelids fluttering.
“You must be tired of taking care of me all day, right?” he asks sleepily.
You stroke a hand gently down his back as he drifts closer to sleep, murmuring mostly to yourself, “Tired? Not even a little. Though I’ll admit… I did catch baby fever — and it’s all your fault.” You smile softly and poke his cheek. “You’d look incredibly hot holding our babies, not gonna lie.”
Your eyes begin to grow heavy too, and you decide to let sleep take you — wrapped around this tiny, precious version of him.
But peace is fleeting.
You're rudely jolted awake by a sharp ache in your limbs from the sudden weight pressing into you — and the restless shifting of said weight. You blink your eyes open, groggy and confused, only to find yourself completely unprepared for the sight before you.
Sylus, in all his fully restored, adult glory, is now straddling your lap. And to your utter disbelief — he’s completely naked. The weight of his shirt over your feet confirms that. You keep your eyes fixed on his face, not daring to look anywhere down. 
“Why are you not decent?” You ask, your voice sharp but wavering slightly under the weight of the scene before you.
Sylus doesn’t answer — not directly. Instead, he tilts his head back, a downright  dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he murmurs, “Baby fever, huh?”
Your breath catches, and you struggle to mask the shock on your face. You’d been certain he was asleep last night — small, drowsy, and curled up against your chest — when you muttered those words. Clearly, you were wrong.
Feigning thoughtfulness, he furrows his silver brows, tapping a slender finger thoughtfully against his chin. “Let me see... Was it just my imagination,” he drawls slowly, “or did you actually say something along the lines of how incredibly hot I’d look holding our babies?”
You quickly avert your gaze, face flushing from the neck up, but Sylus isn’t finished. Gently but firmly, he turns your face back toward him with a soft grip on your chin.
���Babies, hmm? Plural, kitten?” His voice is velvet-smooth, full of teasing delight. “My, my… I never realized my sweet girlfriend harbored such passionate little dreams, tucked away in the quiet corners of her heart.”
Mortified, you bring your hands up to cover your face, hoping to hide the vivid shade of red blooming across your cheeks. Your attempts at explanation tumble out as little more than embarrassed babbling — completely incoherent.
Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle as he captures your wrists, gently drawing your hands away from your face and guiding your eyes back to his. His gaze is molten, ruby irises shimmering with a heat that words can’t quite describe — intense, unspoken, and entirely consuming
He presses himself further into your body and you try to not think too much about what is poking your thighs and instead focus on his next words. He clicks his tongue, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know… I really am curious how you'd handle five little versions of me. Perhaps it’s time we put that theory to the test, don’t you think?”
Before you can form a coherent response, you barely register the soft click of the study door locking — courtesy of his evol — followed by the warmth of his hand slipping beneath your shirt.
In the next breath, you're on your back, pressed into the cushions of the sofa, his body hovering over yours with practiced ease. That infuriating, devastatingly attractive smirk curves his lips — one laced with unmistakable intent.
And in his eyes, gleaming with heat and purpose, you see it: he’s done teasing. He’s ready to prove just how serious he is.
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Check out my other works if you liked this ♥
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shyoko · 2 months ago
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★ How ENHYPEN would react if you wore his clothes ★
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This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.)
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¡~Heeseung☆~!
You were hiding behind the sofa when the front door made a noise, announcing Heeseung's arrival home.
When he came in and saw that all the lights were off, he assumed that you were already sleeping peacefully in your room, so he walked towards it, being careful not to make too much noise as he passed.
When he was about to open the door to the room, a small body jumped on his back, making him jump a little. But he quickly realized that it was you, so he relaxed instantly, and a sweet smile appeared on his lips.
He turned around to meet your face and bent down a bit, grabbing the sides of your face to give you a small kiss on the lips. Heeseung broke away for a few moments to turn on the light. A few seconds later, upon noticing what you were wearing, his eyes widened, as you were only wearing his oversized T-shirt that fell below your thighs.
"You look beautiful in my clothes, honey," he said sweetly, unable to take his eyes off your body. "I'm going to have to put my clothes somewhere more visible for you to wear."
After that day, Heeseung started occasionally leaving his clothes neatly folded on the bed or on the couch, waiting for you to put them on so he could enjoy the view again.
¡~Jay☆~!
Jay had spent almost an entire week locked up in the studio, forgetting to eat properly and only leaving when the streets were dark, illuminated solely by the streetlights.
Because of this, you prepared some food and placed it in a bag along with a bottle of water and a few snacks you knew he loved. With everything in hand, you walked through the streets until you reached the company where Jay spent so much time alone.
You had memorized the path to his studio from the countless times you had visited him. Standing in front of the door, you knocked softly.
"Come in," Jay's tired voice called from inside.
You entered the room calmly, setting the food down on the table before noticing the sweet expression on Jay's face. He stood up from his seat and carefully wrapped his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away. But as soon as he did, the loss of his warmth sent a chill through your body, causing you to shiver—something Jay didn't miss.
"Are you cold, my love?" he asked in that soft voice he reserved only for you.
You gave a small nod, making him smile. Without hesitation, he walked over to the couch where his favorite leather jacket was lying. He grabbed it and helped you put it on. A small laugh escaped him as he saw how oversized it looked on you.
"Hey! Don’t laugh at me," you said playfully.
"I'm not making fun of you, it's just funny how big it looks on you," he chuckled, making you frown.
"Don't be mad, I never said it looked bad on you… In fact, I don’t think there’s anything that could ever look bad on you."
You felt hundreds of butterflies flutter wildly inside you. He had no idea the effect those little words had on you.
¡~Jake☆~!
After a quiet and cozy movie night with Jake, it was time to head home—if it weren’t for the heavy storm that had started pouring down just a few minutes ago. Jake didn’t see this as a problem; in fact, he thought it was a good thing since it meant you’d be spending the night with him.
After tidying up the living room, you both got ready for bed. Luckily, you always kept a set of pajamas at his place for nights like this. Before anything else, you tossed your clothes into the washing machine so they could be cleaned in the morning and worn again.
The moment you slipped under the covers, a warm body wrapped around you carefully, radiating a sense of peace that made you drift off to sleep almost instantly.
The soft morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a golden glow on the parts of your body left uncovered. You turned to your side, only to find that the warmth that lulled you to sleep last night was no longer there. Stretching a little, you got up and walked toward the kitchen, where you spotted Jake making coffee—the special one he only prepared when you were around, as he claimed it was just for you.
You tiptoed behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, making him jump in surprise. He spun around so fast that some of the coffee spilled from the cup, landing on your pajama shirt.
"Jesus! You scared me! Are you trying to kill me or something?" he gasped, still catching his breath. But then his eyes widened when he saw the stain.
"Did you burn yourself?" he asked, now concerned.
"No, no, I’m fine. You just spilled a little," you reassured him.
Jake disappeared from the kitchen for a moment and returned holding one of his shirts.
"I know it's not a big deal, but you can wear this while your clothes get washed," he said, handing it to you.
After slipping it on, you were about to leave the room when you bumped into Jake, who was now looking at you with a faint blush on his cheeks.
"You know what? Keep it," he suddenly said.
"What?" you asked, confused by his unexpected offer.
"Because it looks way too good on you. And besides, this way, I’ll get to see you wearing it more often—not just today," he chuckled softly. "If I’m being honest, I don’t want this to be the last time I see you in my clothes."
¡~Sunghoon☆~!
You and Sunghoon were at a restaurant with some friends. After spending the evening strolling through the city’s new shopping mall, you had all agreed to grab dinner together. You ate calmly, laughing occasionally at the jokes being thrown around. Beside you, Sunghoon did the same, his hand resting casually on your thigh.
Once everyone had finished eating, you paid the bill and stepped outside. Night had fallen, and the temperature had dropped significantly. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and small shivers ran through your body. But you refused to admit you were cold—doing so would only give Sunghoon the satisfaction of teasing you. He had warned you about the cold and told you to dress warmly, but you had brushed him off.
You tried to ignore the freezing air and kept walking, your hand still intertwined with Sunghoon’s. The two of you wandered aimlessly, which was slowly killing you inside because all you wanted was to get home, change into your pajamas, snuggle into warm, fluffy blankets, and sleep until the next day.
"Can I ask you something?" Hoon whispered near your ear.
"He-huh? Yeah, of course," you answered, trying your best to keep your voice from trembling.
"Would you care to explain why your body is shaking, your hands feel like ice, and your voice is unsteady?" he asked again, his tone now dripping with amusement.
"I-I have no idea what you’re talking about," you said, quickly picking up your pace, slipping out of his grasp, and crossing your arms in an attempt to trap some warmth.
"Come on, sweetheart. If you admit I’m always right, I’ll give you my warm, cozy jacket," he teased, taking your hand and slipping it inside his jacket for a moment so you could feel just how warm it was.
You shook your head and turned away stubbornly.
"Oh, come on… I know you want it. Don’t be like that," he smirked.
The cold was starting to seep deep into your bones.
"Fine, you win. I’m really cold…"
"And…?" he prompted, clearly enjoying himself.
"And… you were right," you mumbled, frowning as Sunghoon burst into laughter.
Before you could say anything else, he had already slipped off his jacket. Moments later, warmth spread through your body as he draped it over your shoulders, wrapping it around you properly so it could shield you from the cold.
"I hope you’re warm now because I’m the one freezing," he chuckled.
Without thinking, you quickly unzipped the jacket, stepped in front of him, and stopped him in his tracks. You spread your arms wide, pulling him into a hug, wrapping both of you in the jacket’s warmth.
"I have a feeling we won’t make it home like this, but I appreciate it," he laughed softly, pulling away slightly.
You resumed your walk home, but just a few seconds later, he grabbed your wrist and leaned in close to whisper in your ear.
"Oh, and by the way… my clothes look really good on you."
¡~Sunoo☆~!
For a while now, the students at your university had been begging the professors to throw a party since the end of classes was fast approaching. The professors and the principal kept refusing, worried about how many people might show up or what could happen. But after countless attempts and some pretty clever persuasion tactics from the students, it finally happened—the party was set for tonight.
There was only one rule, aside from behaving properly and not bringing alcohol: a dress code that would distinguish each year. Each class was assigned a specific color, making it easier to identify who belonged where in case things got out of hand.
Your class got orange.
You were in your room, rummaging through every drawer, sending clothes flying in all directions, but still, no sign of anything orange. A surprised gasp escaped the lips of the person you assumed was Sunoo.
“What is this disaster?” he asked, eyes wide as he took in the scene—your room completely covered in scattered clothes, draped carelessly over the floor and furniture.
"You do realize I didn’t get an easy color like you, right? Red? Seriously? Why couldn’t I have gotten that?" Sunoo smirked as he crouched down, gathering your discarded clothes and folding them neatly before placing them back where they belonged.
“I just came to remind you that we have to leave in fifteen minutes… and well, you’re still not dressed,” he pointed out. Your eyes widened in horror.
"Sunoo, please tell me you have an orange shirt," you pleaded, sticking out your bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, clasping your hands together as if you were making a desperate wish.
"Hmm… I might have one. Hold on, I’ll grab it," he said before disappearing out the door.
When he returned, you felt all your worries fade away the moment you saw the orange T-shirt in his hands. A relieved smile spread across your lips.
"Sunoo, you’re a lifesaver!" you gasped, rushing over to him, cupping his face, and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“Give me a second to change, and then we’ll head out,” you added, taking the shirt and shutting the door right in front of his now flushed face.
You paired his T-shirt with a skirt, white shoes, and a few accessories to complete your look. Grabbing your bag, you rushed out of your room.
"Alright, let’s go! I’m ready, and we’re running late!" you called, stepping outside.
A few seconds passed, but Sunoo still hadn’t followed you. You frowned and leaned back inside the house, peeking to see what was taking him so long.
"Baby, why are you just standing there? Let’s go!" you whined, stepping toward him to pull him along.
"You look…" he trailed off, scanning you from head to toe.
"I look…?" you prompted, raising a brow.
"Stunning," he murmured, his fingers gently lacing with yours. Then, with a small, almost bashful smile, he added, "If I had known my clothes looked this good on you, I would’ve given them to you way sooner."
¡~Jungwon☆~!
It was your first time going to one of Jungwon's concerts. A few days ago, the upcoming tour dates had been announced, and Jungwon had insisted that he would love for you to be there. Honestly, you were just as excited about it, so you gladly accepted.
With only a few days left until the concert, you were already picking out the perfect outfit. You spent the entire afternoon thinking about what to wear and searching for something you’d like until you came across a T-shirt that the members of Enhypen had worn. It had a picture of the boys on the back and a phrase printed across the top.
You immediately started searching for it online, determined to buy it. But after looking everywhere with no luck, you decided to call Jungwon and ask him about it. He suggested that you stop by the company so you could ask a staff member where to find it. You quickly agreed, hung up, got dressed, and headed out.
When you arrived, a smiling Jungwon was already waiting for you at the entrance, his arms open wide for the hug he had been anticipating. As his warm embrace wrapped around you, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Alright, shall we see if we get lucky?" he asked sweetly, intertwining his fingers with yours.
You nodded excitedly, letting him lead the way.
After asking around, you both came to the conclusion that the shirt was an exclusive item for the members and that they likely hadn’t made any extras. You felt a little disappointed, but you still smiled at Jungwon.
"It's okay, I’ll find something else to wear," you said casually.
"No way, I’m not giving up just yet. Wait here for a second, okay?"
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before disappearing into a room.
A few minutes later, he walked out with something hidden behind his back.
"What is it?" you asked curiously, tilting your head to try and catch a glimpse.
Then, with a wide grin on his lips, he pulled out the T-shirt from behind him. It was noticeably oversized, so you immediately assumed it was his.
"I love it… but wait, isn’t this yours? I don’t want you to feel like you have to give it to me," you said hesitantly.
Jungwon’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"Have to? Who do you take me for?" he scoffed. "I’m giving it to you because I want to. I’d love to see you wearing this at the concert, and I know how much you want it."
Before you could say anything else, he gently pushed you into an empty room and followed you inside.
"Come on, try it on," he urged.
You took off the shirt you were wearing and replaced it with his. The moment you did, his smile grew even bigger.
"I can’t wait for the concert so everyone can see you in my shirt," he murmured, staring at you in awe.
"Oh, and by the way," he added with a playful smirk, "it looks really good on you."
You couldn't help but laugh at his words.
¡~Ni-ki☆~!
One of Riki's favorite hobbies, besides dancing and playing video games, is taking various pieces of clothing from his closet and putting together outfits for the upcoming days.
You were walking down the street with a box of pastries in your hand, heading to Riki’s house to give him a little surprise. Once you reached his front door, you rang the doorbell, which was positioned on the right side of the entrance. A few moments later, a pajama-clad Riki opened the door with a bright smile.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, beaming.
“I bought some pastries, and I figured you’d probably hate me if I ate them all by myself,” you joked, holding up the box before stepping inside.
As usual, you headed straight to his room, but you froze in place when you saw his bed completely covered with clothes. Each piece was laid out strategically to form outfits—caps at the top, followed by shirts, pants, and finally, shoes neatly placed on the floor below them.
“Closet makeover?” you asked.
“Oh! No, I was just picking out what I’ll wear this week,” he replied casually.
“I didn’t know people planned their outfits days in advance just to go grocery shopping,” you teased, laughing.
“Shut up,” he said with a grin. “I actually enjoy doing this.”
He walked over to his carefully curated outfits and added, “Besides, I have to say, I have a real talent for this. But my style is unique—you wouldn’t understand. And honestly? You could never pull it off like I do.”
A burst of laughter escaped your lips.
“That’s not true! It would probably look even better on me.”
“Oh yeah?” he challenged.
“Yeah.”
“Alright then, try this on.” He grabbed one of the outfits and placed it in your arms, daring you to prove your point.
“But Riki, this isn’t even my size,” you frowned.
“You said it would look better on you, didn’t you? Come on, let’s see it,” he smirked, ushering you into the bathroom before shutting the door behind you.
With a bit of reluctance, you changed into his clothes—which were way too big for you. The pants dragged across the floor, the oversized shirt nearly reached your knees, and the shoes… well, they were a lost cause. The only thing that actually fit was the adjustable cap.
After catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t stop laughing. And when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, Riki took one look at you and immediately burst into hysterical laughter, dramatically collapsing onto the floor as he clutched his stomach.
“Y-you look so ridiculous,” he wheezed between fits of laughter.
Once he finally calmed down, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you.
“At least you look adorable,” he chuckled.
“I think I don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore,” you pouted.
Riki swiftly scooped you up in his arms.
“You should’ve thought about that before saying yes,” he grinned. “There’s no escape now.”
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tottentz · 9 months ago
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SOMEONE TO YOU ── zenless zone zero, sfw ౨ৎ⠀⠀or little things you do that make them fall in love again ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral reader⠀/⠀ft. billy kid, nicole, anby, wise, belle, von lycaon, zhu yuan. ♡ˎˊ˗
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— VON LYCAON ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you fix his clothes. it's nothing, really, you say, adjusting a crooked collar or smoothing a wrinkle. but to lycaon, who wrenches your hips flush to his own when you attempt to break away, it's as if you're unlocking a secret part of his world. the slight, almost imperceptible smile that graces his lips speaks volumes, and if you notice the wagging of his tail or his ears twiching, you never bring it up, instead, you giggle and remind him to be careful—lycaon knows it's not just about the clothes, as he yearns for an affinity but is terrified of the eternal menaces that endanger you and himself alike, but for now, lycaon can get used to the way you treat him as though he is the center of your universe simpers when he deliberately separates from your embrace by prying away and halting the intimate dance formerly initiated. 
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— ANBY ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you watch movies with her. anby just adores those quiet evenings when you and she are nestled together, lost in the glow of a flickering screen. it doesn't matter if you understand the movie, or if it is not your favorite genre, she thrives on the way your eyes light up in the dark, a mirror to her own fascination, and in the same way, you always listen to everything she has to say about the film. anby does not know how to physically express her emotions, but she makes it up by pressing your head to her and feel what you often feel with you: safe, soothed — at home. the effect she has on you, it makes you think that maybe everything will be alright. and if you fall asleep, she smooth her palms up and down your sides. she's soothing you, even like this. does she even realize it, you wonder, is it just second nature for her? you don't need an answer right now.
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— BILLY KID ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you praise him. he swears his abdomen houses clutters of butterflies who dance to the tempo of his non-existent palpitating heart, and his cranium is a ground of play for rampant imagery whenever he hears your voice. he revels in the way you celebrate his victories, no matter how small, and how you tease him with an affectionate grin after every misstep. your belief in him, wrapped in your energetic spirit, lights up his world with a spark that fuels his every move. and there's also you. his person. and he loves, and loves, and loves so endlessly you'd think he would give you the world and everything in the sky, if he could. and if he feels too embarrassed, he would gasp as if stumbling upon treasure before he clumsily grips at your shoulders with a child's enthusiasm. billy is sure to divulge his honest opinion. you, to him, were his one in a million.
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— NICOLE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you hold her. she will never admit it, but nicole finds a serene joy in the gentle, reassuring touch of your hands. it could be any part of her body, from the way you keep your hands warm for nicole when it's cold outside and come up behind her and rubs them up and down her arms. she can do it herself, obviously, but you don't stop, whether it's a supportive grip during a comission or a delicate caress in passing, you know it brings a soothing sense of closeness that she treasures. in private, however, she's so ironically fragile. you could hold her in the palm of your hand, present his broken pieces to the world and they'd still choose to be fooled. the leader of the odd-job agency the cunnin hares will never admit the times she falls asleep like that, cradled against you, soft in your arms.your touch is like a quiet promise that reassures her and makes her heart flutter with contentment, 
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— WISE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you lull him to sleep. when insomnia weaves its restless threads around him, it's your voice that becomes his sanctuary. you don't care if you have to be up at 4am. if you stir awake at an odd hour and finds him still up and restless, you'll always be wrapping around him before he can get a word out,a and it doesn't matter if he is working on the computer or watching the tv, you'll drag him back to bed so you'll press him snug to your warm chest as you hum in that soft, gravely tune that always helps him fall asleep. and in the morning, he is grateful to be woken up by you snoring next to him, and wise breaks into a smile at the sight, eyes baring crow's feet as his fingers rouse through your knotted locks, thumb prodding into your temple and stroking soothing lengths into the dimpled flesh. your presence becomes his most cherished remedy.
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— BELLE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you play fighting games with her. she always wins, anyway, but you know the way belle’s eyes sparkle with a fierce joy when you join her in the world of fighting games is worth the try. if only you knew she consistently were to be reduced to putty in your hands, an object to be used for your disposal, belle would allow such. to remain within contact for a second more, she’d do whatever it took. desire which set her heart aflame affirmed her certainty when deciding his aim for the future. she would remain by your side, sure to treasure everlasting memories crafted within your presence. she still hands out pieces of herself like there's enough to go around (there isn't). and when she lose( on purpose ), she since convinced herself that she has already won. content with the belief he had already acquired millions with you.
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— ZHU YUAN ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves when you buy flowers for her. zhu yuan's heart flutters with a delicate joy whenever you present her with flowers, their vibrant colors a testament to your affection. she once mentioned how much she likes keeping fresh flowers, but since she is busy she would not have time to take care of them; and now the house never seems to run out of them, the vases always full with fresh sugar water and kept - you tend them for her. blemishes blind to her eye, she discerned only visage of an appeal, your charm far too bewitching to discourage her nursing of attraction towards you. she adores not just the flowers themselves, but the care you take in nurturing them, reflecting the same tenderness you offer her. regardless of how you had been perceived by peers or what grade you had been given, the way she viewed you was like no other.
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. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 、 ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪
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blaire-apricity · 9 months ago
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Love Language
ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴? (𝘎𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨)
ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊
─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────
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𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫
Giving: Acts of service & Physical touch
Xavier often struggles to articulate his feelings with words, so he relies on his actions to communicate his love.
He might fumble for the right words, but you can read his emotions through his body language, which is where he’s most sincere.
He’s always willing to help you, his acts of service might often go unnoticed because he doesn't draw attention to them. However, you knew him well and understands that these small, consistent efforts are his way of expressing love; whether it's packing your lunch (though let’s be honest, it’s ready meals) or running an errand just for you.
He cherishes physical contact with you, savoring the tingling sensation in his hand and the butterflies in his stomach whenever your hands are intertwined.
He doesn’t mind if you’re busy on your phone or reading a book; he just wants to hold you close.
He loves to cuddle, resting his head on your chest to listen to your steady heartbeat, which reassures him of your presence and your shared moments.
He finds comfort in nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, and imprinting it in his memory.
Receiving: Physical touch
Just as he enjoys giving physical affection, he loves receiving them as well.
He might not show overt emotional reactions but there will be subtle signs such as his faint smile, relaxed posture or his eyes softening.
Physical touch has a calming effect on Xavier, it helps him feel grounded and connected with you.
He doesn’t ask for much even, to the point that kissing him and caressing his cheek takes him aback, prompting him to shyly look down while scratching his nape, a mannerism of his endearment for you.
He adores when you take the initiative, like holding his hand in public to ensure he stays close; especially on crowded areas making sure he wouldn’t get lost, or vice versa.
In private moments, Xavier would be more open to receiving physical touch, allowing himself to be more vulnerable and affectionate. He would appreciate gentle caresses, holding hands, or being held, finding comfort and reassurance.
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𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
Giving: Quality time & Physical touch
Despite his demanding schedule as a surgeon, Zayne always carves out time to be with you.
While he might not openly express his enjoyment, his appreciation for quality time can be seen in his willingness to make time for you.
No matter how exhausting his day of consultations and surgeries has been, it all fades away the moment he sees you.
He's usually reserved at affection, most likely to be subtle and reserved. Simple gestures like a gentle touch on the arm or reassuring hand on the shoulder.
However, you can tell he's had a tough day when he comes home still in his doctor coat, walking straight to you and pulling you into a tight embrace, his head resting on your chest as he sighs softly.
His strong hands wrap around your waist, gently caressing your back in a possessive yet tender gesture, as if he’s silently conveying that you are the most important part of his life.
In an intimate setting, Zayne kisses you almost greedily, his hand on your cheek, blending his desire with his patience. He wants all of you, yet he’s careful not to push you.
Receiving: Gifts/ Physical touch & Quality time
Zayne treasures the gifts you give him, no matter how small or silly. You might think he’s put them away, but you’ll often find them on his desk, a constant reminder of you.
He loves seeing the little things you’ve given him; they make him smile and think fondly of your thoughtfulness and humor.
While he appreciates physical touch, he values the time you make for him as well.
With both of you having busy schedules, he may not always voice it out, but he deeply appreciates the moments you set aside just to be with him.
He didn’t mind that the things you do together were the simplest, he wasn’t an extravagant person after all.
Watching a movie in the comfort of your home, his arm being cradled by you; that was more than enough.
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𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥
Giving: Words of Affirmation & Physical touch
Rafayel may often come across as bratty and snarky, but over time, you’ve learned that it’s his unique way of expressing love.
Sometimes he’ll deny sweet statements or act like a classic tsundere, making you chuckle and tease him about it. He might glare and cross his arms, but deep down, he loves it—especially because it’s you.
Unlike Xavier, Rafayel is adept at conveying his feelings through words, though not always straightforwardly. He expresses his emotions through stories or obscure comments.
He never gives direct compliments, but his playful teases about your quirks show that he pays close attention and values you.
While he might push you away playfully, he loves physical touch. He enjoys subtle closeness—standing near you, leaning in while talking, or initiating contact under the guise of annoyance.
His playful shoves and pokes are his way of being physically affectionate without seeming overly sentimental.
Rafayel always wants you close, never wanting you out of his sight.
In moments of genuine concern, he becomes protective, pulling you out of harm’s way or holding your hand to show solidarity, despite you being his bodyguard.
Receiving: Acts of service & Quality time
Rafayel may not openly express his appreciation for your acts of service, but he deeply values them.
His bratty attitude might downplay your efforts, but inwardly, he feels cared for and understood.
He enjoys the attention and care you provide, even if he pretends not to care or brushes them off with a teasing or snarky remark.
Rafayel cherishes your undivided attention. He never wants to share what’s his, and your focus on him is one of his favorite love languages.
Whenever you’re together, he doesn’t want you distracted by anything else—he craves your sole attention.
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𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬
Giving: Gifts & Words of Affirmation
Sylus loves to spoil you rotten, often handing over his card and encouraging you to pamper yourself with whatever you desire.
He’s never stingy with his gifts, showering you with everything from expensive brands to the finest jewelry.
When his busy schedule keeps him away, he leaves you gifts as a token of his affection, making up for his absence.
Though Sylus is cocky and arrogant, he has a way with words, honed from years of making deals and running businesses.
He’s blunt and unfazed by emotional nuances, delivering his words of affirmation with a dose of brutal honesty.
He doesn’t sugarcoat his compliments, which makes them impactful. When he says something affectionate, you know it’s genuine and sincere.
His rare, heartfelt words carry weight, adding depth to his expressions of love.
Receiving: Physical touch & Quality time
Physical touch is one of Sylus's primary love languages. While he doesn’t like public displays of affection, it’s a different story when you’re alone together.
He loves intertwining his fingers with yours, reveling in the sense of superiority from the size difference and the feeling of fitting together perfectly.
Sylus is possessive and greedy, disliking the idea of you being with anyone else.
Though he may appear calm and collected, the slight narrowing of his crimson eyes reveals his disapproval.
He treasures the quality time you spend together, craving those private moments where he can hold you close and feel your presence.
·❆   ❆ ❅    •    .     ❆❆•  · .   ❅
𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒-
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shockercoco · 2 months ago
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That Damn Phone
Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings - fluff, flirting, some swearing
Word count - 3020
a/n - I got this idea after seeing this video on tiktok, even though I know this has been done before on tumblr, and I wanted to write my own version. This was supposed to be posted a month ago, but I procrastinated and somehow ended up rewriting the whole thing💀. Also idk if I want to do a part 2 to this yet. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)
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Summary: After seeing a video of a couple do a certain trend on tiktok, you can't get it off your mind but decide not to bring it up to Bucky to avoid the embarrassment. Though, with Bucky being Bucky, he finds out anyways.
You sit on the couch waiting for Bucky to come home, passing the time by scrolling through Tiktok. You had planned on just being on the app for a little bit before opening your book currently sitting on your coffee table, but you keep getting absorbed in one video after another.
One video in particular catches your eye, so much so that you end up spending the next ten minutes reading comments and freaking out with everyone else. The video was of a girl asking her boyfriend to try a popular trend that all of the readers had brought to the internet.
You watch as the girl stands in the doorway and practically melts into the ground as her boyfriend towers over her, gently lifting up her chin to maintain eye contact. The girl’s face is covered in happiness and shock as she laughs and pulls away from the guy.
You can’t help but giggle along with her as butterflies fill your stomach, feeling the tension through the screen.
This would be fun to try with Bucky, but you don’t really want to ask him. It’s not like he would have a problem with fulfilling your wishes, but you know that he knows the effect he has on you, and this would just be added to the list of the things Bucky can purposefully do to make you flustered.
Bucky knows how you struggle to hold eye contact after a while of having his blue eyes stare back into yours when the two of you are having a conversation, and he has no problem with using it against you. He knows how flustered you get when he gets all up in your personal space, whispering teasing words into your ear to make you laugh and shy away.
He loves the fact that you still get nervous around him, even though the two of you have been dating for a while – long enough for those nerves to get thrown out of the window.
A memory suddenly enters your thoughts of Bucky being his usual flirty self before a night out:
You had just put on your new dress you had bought recently for tonight’s date. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning from side to side to make sure you’re satisfied with your appearance.
You see Bucky through the reflection in the mirror as he walks into the room, fixing the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Alright, doll, are you ready to head ou- woah,”Bucky begins to say, but cuts himself off when his eyes land on you. “Well what do we have here?”
You turn around to face him, giving him a bashful smile. “I just bought it last week. What do you think, do you like it?”
“I love it,” Bucky admits as he walks closer to you, taking his time on purpose as he lets his eyes run up and down your figure. He grabs your hand and makes you do a spin before facing the two of you towards the mirror. He pulls your back into his chest as he runs his hands up and down your sides. “You look so gorgeous, darling.  I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you.”
You let out a small laugh as you can’t help but roll your eyes at his compliment.
Bucky chuckles. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m serious.” He moves his lips down to your ear to whisper, “you know, if you’re not feeling up for going out, we could skip the dinner and go straight for dessert.”
You give him a confused look, but it immediately goes away as he continues his statement, his voice dropping even lower. His eyes meet yours in the mirror as a smirk grows across his lips.
“...I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet, and I’m pretty sure you could help me out with my craving.”
You gasp as you move out of his grasp, playfully pushing him away.
“Bucky!”
Bucky just laughs at your expression. “Eventually those nerves will be gone, doll, I don’t care how long I have to work on you.”
“Okay, stop!” you tell him with a smile as you turn and head into the bathroom to finish getting ready.
You suddenly hear a car door close, tearing you away from your thoughts. Your eyes widen as your heart picks up speed, only just now realizing how much time has passed when you glance at the time on your phone.
As soon as you hear Bucky’s keys jingle from the other side of the door, you quickly save the video and scroll past it, trying to act nonchalant as Bucky opens the front door. You greet him with a small smile as he walks over to you.
The smell of his cologne fills your nostrils, sending warmth through your body as he comes up behind you and leans over the couch to give you a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re in the exact same spot you were in when I left you,” Bucky chuckles as he rests his arms on the back of the couch, his eyes staring directly into yours. “What have you been doing this whole time?”
“Nothing really, just scrolling through random videos,” you shrug.
“Have you been on the same app?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he glances down at the current video playing on your phone of a woman doing her makeup, before sending you a look.
“...maybe,” you shyly admit as you look away, causing Bucky to shake his head in fake disappointment. 
“You told me you were planning on finishing your book,” Bucky nods his head towards the now abandoned book on the table. 
“I was going to, but-,” you cut yourself off as Bucky gives you a teasing look. “It’s really addictive, okay! You would understand if you’d actually give it a chance.”
“If it’s going to take up my day like it does yours, I don’t want any part of it,” Bucky says, putting his hands up in surrender as he backs up and makes his way towards the stairs. “I would like to keep what’s left of my mind.”
You roll your eyes at his response. Your eyes flicker towards the book in front of you before trying to turn your attention back onto your phone, but the video from earlier keeps playing in your mind as you subconsciously scroll.
Should you really ask him to do this trend? Should you do it now? You could wait until he’s already standing next to you so it seems casual. Should you just scrap the idea and stick to daydreaming?
Your mind continues to turn, and after a while of not being able to come to a decision, you let out a groan and slump further into the couch.
“Everything okay over there?” you hear Bucky ask, making you jump a little as you turn your head.
You watch as he pulls a shirt over his head while coming down the stairs. He’s changed into comfortable clothes instead of his outfit he wore to hangout with Sam.
For a moment, you get distracted by the snug fit of Bucky’s shirt, specifically the way it clings to the top of his bionic arms and fits around his chest and-
What the hell is your problem?
Bucky gives you a confused look from your delayed response. 
You clear your throat. “Yeah, just…thinking,” you respond, shaking your head as if to try and shake the thoughts from your head.
Not completely believing you, but deciding to brush it off, Bucky gives you a look as he makes his way into the kitchen. You let out a breath at the tiny bullet you just dodged.
Maybe it would have been better to just read the damn book instead, that way you could just enter another world and fantasize all you want about a fictional man instead of creeping Bucky out.
“What do you want for dinner?” Bucky calls out from the inside of the kitchen. “Do you want to have something delivered or do you want to try that new recipe you found online?”
“We’ve been eating out all week, we should probably just try that recipe,” you call back. You stand up from your spot on the couch and stretch, before making your way to Bucky. “I can take care of everything since it was my idea after all.”
Bucky glances at you as you walk in. “Don’t worry about it, sweets, I don’t have a problem with making it for you,” he tells you, his voice clashing with the sound of him rummaging through cabinets for cookware and ingredients.
“Well at least let me help,” you say, tilting your head as you give Bucky one of your sweet smiles. 
He playfully scoffs at you, but gives in. “Alright, alright. If you insist,” he tells you as he leans in to place a quick kiss on your forehead.
“Let me just use the bathroom first. Oh, and I should probably go change in case things get messy,” you tell him, subconsciously placing your phone down on the counter before walking away.
Bucky gives you a nod, and continues to get everything ready. When he notices your unlocked phone on the counter a couple of feet away from him, his attention shifts.
He has a habit of looking through the TikTok videos you’ve watched to see what you enjoy and find funny, or to give him ideas for things he could do from you. You’ve caught him a couple of times, and each time you would playfully scold him and take back your phone, and Bucky would just laugh it off knowing that you were joking.
It’s the closest he will get to actually using the app and he would rather die before admitting that it has been helpful or that he too has stumbled across some interesting things.
Bucky stops shuffling through videos when he sees one that you’ve liked and added to your favorites — the video of the girl and her boyfriend.
His eyebrows raise as he watches the video play, an evil smirk developing on his lips once he realizes why you’ve added this certain video to your favorites.
As he hears your footsteps get closer, Bucky quickly scrolls back down to the video that was paused on your phone before you left and moves back to his previous position on the other side of the kitchen. He clears his throat as he busies his hands to prevent you from being suspicious,
“Okay, let’s get started,” you announce as you enter the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves in the process. “Oh! Let me pull the recipe video up, I have it saved.”
“Of course it’s on that damn app,” Bucky murmurs as he watches you find the video, causing you to quietly let out a giggle.
After giving the video another run through and looking through the comments, you feel confident in what has to be done. You turn on some background music before placing a pot of water onto the stove for it to boil. When you go over to Bucky to help him cut up the vegetables, he tells you that he’s got it.
“Come on, Bucky. Give me something to do,” you groan, hopping onto the counter to watch him work. 
“You could read your book. You know, the book you’ve been wanting to finish reading for a while, but you keep putting it off? That sounds like a good idea to me,” Bucky gives you a teasing look as he glances over at you, and you just glare at him in return. 
You pettily let out a loud huff and cross your arms across your chest. “Well, when you tell me to do it, I no longer want to.”
Bucky chuckles at your response as he continues slicing and dicing. 
Having nothing better to do at the moment, the tiktok video from earlier enters your mind, making you open up an app to read some fanfiction. After noticing a smile repeatedly make its way onto your face from the corner of his eye, Bucky steals a look at your screen. 
“Are you reading a book on your phone?” Bucky raises his eyebrows.
Well, reading fanfiction is technically like reading a book, so….
“Yeah, why?”
Bucky stops chopping altogether, turning his attention to you in disbelief. “So you’ll read on your phone, but not in real life?”
“Technically, this is still real life – the words are just on a screen instead of paper,” you give him an innocent smile before looking back down at your phone.
Bucky playfully rolls his eyes at you, before turning his attention to the vegetables. That's when he remembers something. Bucky turns back to you.
“Y’know, speaking of books, have you ever heard of this thing called booktok?” Bucky asks. There’s a teasing look on his face, but you don’t notice it yet.
Confused, but not giving it much thought, you direct your attention at Bucky. “Yeah, but why do you know about it?”
He gives you a shrug. “I just saw something about it, and it seemed like something you’d know about.”
Thinking that the conversation is over, you look back down at your phone.
But, it’s not.
“You know, I saw this interesting video recently and it had something to do with booktok also. Maybe you’ve seen it?” Bucky continues, trying to hide the smirk from growing on his face.
Once again, you look at Bucky. This time your eyebrows are furrowed, getting the feeling that he’s up to something.
“I don’t know, maybe. What was it about?”
Bucky turns back to the vegetables on the counter and continues to chop, but his focus is still mainly on you.
“It was a video of this girl and her boyfriend, and in the video she asks him to do this trend with her–”
He’s not talking about- No, there’s no way.
“--you can see her set the camera up and ask her boyfriend to stand in the doorway, and she joins him.”
You feel your heart drop as you finally notice the teasing tone in his voice as he talks and the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
Oh. My. God.
Bucky looks back over at you. “Have you seen this trend?”
You’re speechless for a second, but you quickly find your words. You swallow. You’re looking back down at your phone when you respond. “Um, yeah I think so.”
“Apparently all the people involved in this booktok thing know about it. She asks him to recreate a scene in a book where the man towers over her and leans in, and apparently a lot of women seem to enjoy it,” Bucky continues to innocently ramble as if there’s no ulterior motive to this speech, but you know there is. Then Bucky asks, “Do you?”
You don’t know if you should strangle him or curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment.
“Do I what?” you ask, trying to seem as unaffected as possible.
“Do you enjoy things like that?” he simply asks as he stops chopping to wash his hands.
This smug piece of shit.
“Did you go through my saved videos?” you ask, deciding it’s time to drop the facade and let the shock show on your face.
Bucky chooses to do the same; letting the smirk fully emerge on his face, Bucky dries off his hands and leans on the counter with a hand on his hip, giving you his full attention.
He shrugs. “Maybe.” 
You let your jaw drop. “Why?”
He shrugs again. “Why not?”
“You know what? I think you should cook by yourself,” you huff. 
You’ve made up your mind – you’ll crawl up in a ball and die.
You hop off the counter and begin to make your way out of the kitchen, but bucky stops you.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be upset,” Bucky chuckles as he pulls you back and backs you into the kitchen counter, keeping his hands on your hips.
You really hate your body for enjoying the feeling of being trapped between him and the counter at a time like this.
“I’m not upset,” you lie, avoiding eye contact as you fold your arms across your chest.
“See, you're telling me one thing and your face is telling me something else, sweetheart. You’re not even looking at me,” Bucky smiles, and you roll your eyes.
“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me,” you tell him, causing him to let out a laugh.
“Oh, you’re really upset,” Bucky says. When you don’t say anything, he adds. “Come on, doll, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”
“Like I said earlier, you should cook by yourself,” you say. You make another move to leave, but Bucky just tightens his grip to golf you there. You let out a groan. “Let me go.”
“No can do, not until you're no longer mad at me.”
“We’re gonna be here for a while then,” you mumble.
Bucky moves his head to try to get you to look at him, but you just move too. Bucky breathes out a laugh. He steps away from you as he says, “I’ve got a better idea.”
You watch him go to the now boiling pot of water and move it, before reaching to turn off the stove. When he turns back to you, there’s a different look on his face.
Uh oh. 
“What are you doing?” you ask and slowly start making your way towards the kitchen entrance.
“I gotta cheer you up somehow,” he smirks, grabbing your phone out of your hand and stuffing it in his pocket.
“What the hell are y-,” you begin, but cut yourself off with a scream as your tossed upside down from Bucky throwing you over his shoulder, “Bucky!”
“Would you stop?” Buck laughs as his grip on you tightens from your squirming. “We have to recreate some scenes for booktok.”
“What about dinner? Everything is still out,” you say as he begins to make his way up the stairs.
“Don’t worry, we'll be back. Hopefully.”
Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)
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fireinmoonshot · 2 months ago
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the tyler owens effect | tyler owens x fem!reader
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: After realising why other storm chasers think you and Tyler are dating when you aren't, you confront Tyler about it, only to be surprised by his solution. Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader drinks a beer. Word Count: 1.9k A/N: Surprise! Is there any better time to start writing for Tyler Owens again than when a cyclone is meant to make landfall in Australia tomorrow? I don't live in the direct path of it but we have had some insane wind and a lot of rain is forecast for the weekend, so I figured it was the perfect time to write for him again. Enjoy! 💗
Before you and Tyler started dating officially, everyone from the other storm chasing teams always assumed you were a couple. You never really understood why – he always treated you like every other member of the Tornado Wranglers and you were nothing more than just two good friends. 
It’s only when you’re out having some drinks with the other storm chasers in the motel parking lot that you realise exactly what it is that makes everyone assume.
You’re standing by the cooler, a beer in hand, talking to Kate and keeping an eye on Boone – who is already several drinks deep and very much out of it – when you feel a hand on your waist. It’s gone just as quickly as it came and you already know it’s Tyler before you even look at him. He doesn’t even look at you as he steps past you to bend down and grab a couple of drinks out of the cooler.
Kate stops talking mid sentence, noticing your attention has shifted elsewhere. “I didn’t realise the Tyler Owens effect was something a fellow Tornado Wrangler could be affected by,” she says, expecting you not to hear her.
You blink, looking away from Tyler and back at Kate. She has a small smile on her face.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“My point exactly,” Kate takes a sip of her drink and shakes her head, laughing a little. You really were so clueless, even after working with Tyler every day. 
You narrow your eyes. “Kate.”
“I said that I didn’t realise that Tornado Wranglers could be affected by the Tyler Owens effect.” 
“The Tyler Owens effect?” You almost laugh. “Is that a thing?” You’ve never heard of it, even though you’ve been a member of the Tornado Wranglers for a few years now.
Kate nods. “What, you haven’t noticed that everyone turns to look when Tyler enters a room? I don’t think it’s all cause he’s a semi-famous storm chaser, either. I think it’s more to do with the fact that everyone finds him so good looking they can’t help but look at him.”
You stare at her for a few moments and then laugh. You being caught up in the Tyler Owens effect? Please. You can admit that he’s good looking, but so is Boone and so are plenty of other storm chasers you see on a daily basis. You’d only been looking at him before cause he’d walked behind you and made you aware that he was there. It’s totally normal for you to watch him – he’s one of your best friends. The butterflies in your stomach don’t count for anything.
Before you can reply to Kate, you catch Tyler stand up from the cooler, closing the lid and moving back towards the two of you. He has two beers in his hands – likely one for himself and one for another member of the Tornado Wranglers. He holds the necks of both beer bottles with one hand.
“Ladies,” he says in way of greeting.
He doesn’t stay to talk, though. He has a beer to deliver. As he walks past you and Kate, his hand touches your waist again, having to get past a group of storm chasers that are headed for the cooler after him. You ignore the chill that goes down your spine at the feeling of his hand on your waist.
It’s then that the realisation hits.
Tyler always touches you – especially when you’re in public. A hand on your waist as he’s moving past you in a room, an arm around your shoulder when your’e sitting around a make-shift bonfire in a motel parking lot, holding your hand to get you through a packed crowd of storm chasers at a gas station…
“I have a question,” you look back up at Kate, having turned around to look at Tyler as he walks away. Kate is looking at you with a knowing smile on her face, as if she already knows what you’re about to ask her. “Is the reason why people always assume Tyler and I are together is because he touches me so casually? Like just then, he put a hand on my waist as he walked past.”
Kate can’t help it – she laughs. “It took you long enough to realise that. To everyone else, it looks a hell of a lot like a boyfriend just being touchy with his girlfriend.”
“Oh, god,” you run a hand over your face. “That is so…” You take one final swig of your beer before handing it to Kate. “I need to talk to Tyler. I’ll be right back.” 
You spin on your heels immediately, heading in the direction Tyler had been going before. The parking lot is crowded but not so crowded that you can’t see where he’s sitting with Dexter and Dani. He’s sitting on the tailgate of his truck, beer in hand.
Tyler spots you when you’re not too far away from him and raises his hand to wave you over to them. He taps the tailgate beside him, motioning for you to join him there.
“What brings you over this way, darlin’?” He asks, flashing you a grin.
You give a quick greeting to Dexter and Dani before looking at Tyler again. “Ty, we need to talk.”
His eyebrows furrow briefly but he continues acting playful for the benefit of Dexter and Dani. “Well, that never ends well,” he says, setting his beer down on the tailgate beside him. “Can you watch that? I’ll be back for it.” He asks the other two.
It’s second nature for him to reach down and grab your hand, starting to walk you away from your friends and towards the motel, near where your room is and away from all the storm chasers chatting. You’re so used to holding his hand that you don’t even remember that the whole reason you’ve come over to talk to him is to stop him from holding your hand and initiating other random touches.
It’s a little quieter over by your room. There are a few people milling about here and there, going into their rooms or coming out of them, but it’s much better compared to being in the thick of the storm chasers. 
“What’s goin’ on, darlin’?” He asks, letting go of your hand and leaning up against one of the poles holding up the second floor hallway. You can tell he’s worried just by the sound of his voice.
You sigh and prepare yourself for what is likely to be an incredibly awkward conversation on your behalf. Tyler will probably barely even blink at it. You, on the other hand? You’re ready for a lifetime of embarrassment. “Are you aware that a heap of other storm chasers think that we’re dating each other?”
Tyler slowly nods. “Yeah, I’ve had a few people ask me if we are. Why?”
“I know why,” you continue. “You know how you held my hand as we were walking over here? And you came over to get a drink earlier and put your hand on my waist when you were walking past. Kate even confirmed it. People always think we’re dating cause they always see us touching like a couple would.”
Tyler is a little confused. He’s never really put two and two together but it makes sense. He doesn’t touch anyone like he touches you. You are the only person whose hand he holds and whose waist he touches as he passes by. He never even really means to. He just always finds himself drawn to you and it’s just habit at this point. He supposes that the crush he’s been harbouring for a few months now would have something to do with that.
“Do you want me to stop doing that?” Tyler asks, genuinely concerned. If it was something that made you uncomfortable, he’d stop doing it immediately. 
You open your mouth to say yes, but stumble over the word. You know without even thinking about it properly that you’ll miss the comfort of holding his hand or having his hand on your waist if you stop him from doing it… it’s not that you don’t like it, it’s more just that you don’t want people to assume anymore. 
“No, I just…” You trail off and shake your head. “I just want people to stop assuming that we’re dating when we aren’t.”
Tyler looks at you for a moment, then swallows and says “Well, maybe we should just date then.” He shrugs a shoulder, making it look like he’s someone who is totally cool, calm and collected about this – as if his heart isn’t beating a million miles an hour in his chest and he’s not quietly terrified that you’ll shut him down.
You stare up at him, opening and closing your mouth a few times when your mind goes blank and you can’t find anything to say to him. “I– what?” 
Tyler clears his throat. “Go on a date with me, a proper date.”
“A date… with you…” You repeat. “Tyler, how many drinks have you had tonight? Are you drunk?”
You know that he isn’t. He’s not a particularly heavy drinker, often choosing to keep reasonably sober. But for some reason, the words coming out of his mouth make it seem like he is. Why would Tyler Owens be asking you on a date? He’s your co-worker, your friend… and you get butterflies in your stomach whenever he smiles at you. Totally normal, right?
Tyler chuckles. “I’ve had half a beer, darlin’, I’m not drunk. I’m asking you a genuine question right now. Will you go on a date with me? You said you want people to stop assuming that we’re dating, so let’s date for real and they won’t have to assume anymore.”
You let out a breath and shake your head. “Ty, I… you don’t have to offer me a date just cause you feel bad that I don’t like people assuming things about us, okay? We can just make an effort not to do things that make them assume.”
“Do you not wanna go on a date with me?” He asks, a tinge of hurt in his voice. He considers you one of his best friends but he can understand if you don’t feel the same way about him as he feels about you. “If you don’t, just say so and I’ll drop it. But if even one part of you wants to… say yes, darlin’.”
“Yes,” the word is out of your mouth before you even register it. You throw a hand up to cover your mouth, a little shocked at your own instinct. “I mean… okay, yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” Just to test whether the butterflies in your stomach really mean something or not… just to see…
Tyler can’t keep the grin off his face. He isn’t as terrible at guessing things like this as he had started to wonder he was. “All right,” he smiles. “So, give me a couple days to work somethin’ out and I’ll keep you updated.”
You laugh. “You’ll keep me updated? Ty, I see you every day. I sit in the back seat of your truck for like twelve hours a day.”
He shrugs, a smile on his face. “You’ll obviously be upgraded to the front seat if things go well on our date. I couldn’t have my girlfriend sitting in the back seat while Boone sits up front.”
“Girlfriend, huh?”
“Don’t go getting ahead of yourself, darlin’,” he teases. 
You gasp. “You were the one who said it!”
Tyler laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “C’mon, my beer is getting warm waiting for me over there and I can feel Dexter and Dani’s eyes staring a hole in the back of my head. And I’ve got a busy night of date planning ahead of me.”
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wandaslovey · 2 months ago
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tooth rotting fluffy drabble below 👇🏻
nothing is hotter than a good age gap. especially since the woman you were in love with seemed to only become more perfect with age. however, that didn’t stop you from teasing her about becoming older, often. after all, you were one for mischievousness.
“so what’s it like to be old?” you ask wanda one evening as the two of you were lying in bed together. she had been wrapping up some work on her laptop, some blue light filter glasses adorning her nose.
with your head draped across her legs, your hair fanning out over her bare skin, she slowly closes the lid to her laptop, looking down at you with a withering gaze. “excuse me?”
“being old - what’s it like?” you reiterate your question calmly, looking up at her through your lashes.
“i beg your pardon, little girl!” she scoffs, an incredulous smile on her face. you giggle softly at her reaction. even her response made her sound old.
“oh, you think that’s funny? i’ll give you something to laugh about..” she mutters, sliding her laptop off her lap and grabbing onto your torso. she shifts your upper body so you’re propped up against her before her fingers begin digging into your ribs. you squeak, immediately erupting into a fit of giggles.
“wanda!” you squeal her name, squirming against her, but her free arm had a firm hold around your waist, effectively trapping you there.
“take it back.” she commands. somehow, every time your hands tried to still her tickling hand, she evaded your efforts, her fingers scribbling and squeezing different parts all over your sensitive torso. you didn’t want to cave and take it back too soon, so you double your escape efforts, sputtering out a ‘never!’
wanda chuckles at your antics and allows you to squirm out of her grasp, but your moment of reprieve is short lived as she all but shoves you back down on the bed, your back falling against the sheets. she straddles your hips, her knees pressing firmly into the flesh in order to try and keep you there while one of her hands expertly entraps your wrists.
“take it back, (y/n), or else…” she tilts her head, arching a brow in a threatening manner that made your stomach flutter with butterflies.
“bite me,” you pronounce boldly, immediately biting down on your tongue after saying that. wanda purses her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief before she leans down, heading for your neck. she tosses her hair to one side, humming as she gets close to your ear and you mentally brace yourself for the small prick of pain, but instead hear a resounding buzzing noise as she blows a raspberry against your neck. you make a sound of surprise, trying to shrug your shoulder up to your chin in an effort to protect your helpless neck. wanda laughs again, using her free hand to extend your neck to the side to blow more against the sensitive skin there. you giggle, the sound and the sensation causing you to fall into a small fit.
she lifts her head from the crook of your neck, her face just inches from yours as she hovers there, her green eyes boring into yours. she looks at you, a smug expression on her face as she bites her lip, and then you feel her fingers vibrating against your stomach again.
“you really think i’m old?” she asks, faux pouting. ”that’s not a very nice thing to say to me, you know. what do you have to say for yourself?” you’re unable to answer her though, as she purposely seeks out your most sensitive spots, sending you into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
“stop! please!!” you manage to breath out when she lets up a bit.
“take it back.” she repeats simply, her face still hovering closely above yours as she has you trapped firmly beneath her. you wriggle as much as the position allows, your head thrashing from side to side. she looks much too arrogant for your liking, but you know you’ll never win in this situation unless you give her what she wants.
“FINE! ok! ok! i take it back!” you half shout in desperation, wanda’s devious fingers finally ceasing to dig into your sensitive flesh. she hums her approval at you admission, kissing you sweetly on the cheek. it doesn’t go unnoticed by you that she still has yet to release your wrists from above your head.
you clear your throat. “aren’t you gonna let me go?” you ask, giving her a subtle pleading look.
“no. not yet.” she smiles down affectionately at you. “i want to be free to do as much of this as i want..” she trails off, kissing the tip of your nose. before you can ask what she means, she begins planting kisses all over your cheeks and your forehead. each kiss becomes sloppier, not one inch of your face being left uncovered. you begin to giggle again, your face moving around in a half-hearted attempt to escape the affection. she joins in laughing with you as she continues kissing your pretty face, only pulling away when she was content you were positively smothered in affection.
“you’re just about the cutest thing ever - you know that?” she asks, finally freeing your wrists and using that hand to trace down the bridge of your nose.
“i love you.” you murmur softly, looking adoringly into her eyes. she kisses you chastely on the lips.
“and i love you, my darling girl.”
she gently rolls to the side, pulling your body close to hers until you were practically meshed together. you burrow your face into her neck, inhaling her comforting scent as you relax in her arms. after a moment, you break the silence.
“hey wanda?”
“hmm?”
“i think it’s incredibly hot that you’re older, but you know i don’t actually think you’re old.”
she smiles, though you can’t see it from where your face is buried. “i know.”
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minhosimthings · 11 months ago
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The Demon of Destruction || 18+
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Synopsis: For the first night of the "Make Heeseung jealous" pact, you spend it with the devil incarnate, Park Sunghoon.
Pairings: detective!Sunghoon × fem!reader
Warnings: Smut minors Dni, dildo use, ab riding, swearing, use of aphrodisiac, mention of alcohol slightly drunk reader, fem!reader, p in v, rough sex, degradation, praise, mention of cheating, creampie, dom!Hoon, reader is called 'angel' and 'sweetheart', overstimulation
A/N: bonjour my babies. This is the first installment of the Lucifer series and I seriously cannot wait to start writing Jayeun's next. Also I am shit at writing riding I realised that whilst writing this so pardon me if you cringe Ii
Series Masterlist
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If there was one thing that Park Sunghoon would never have expected to ever happen to him, it was taking one of his best friend's wife to his home with the sole objective of luring her to his bed. Although he didn't have any objection towards it, it was rather peculiar now that he thought about it.
Glancing out the corner of his eye, Sunghoon caught sight of how eerily calm you were. Any other woman would have been biting her lips until they bled. Or perhaps making conversation with him at that point.
But no, you were just...silent, devoid of sound, as if you were a creature mute and deaf.
"If you don't want to go ahead with the plan anymore I'm fine with that." Sunghoon offered, snapping you out of your daze. The bourbon had a greater effect on you than you had thought.
"What—no, of course not." You said, looking at him for the first time since you climbed into his car, "Why would you think that?"
Sunghoon considered you for a while before answering. "No reason, angel."
The nickname made butterflies erupt in your stomach.
Heeseung used to call you angel too.
•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•
"Welcome to my humble abode." Sunghoon whistled, opening the door of the cozy looking house for you. Your expectations of what his house would have looked like, was far different from the house you were standing in now. It was...homelier than you had expected.
"Are you sure you're not married?" You jested, taking off your coat, handing it off to Sunghoon, who hung it up at the door along with his own, "Any sensible woman would be all over this house, and you of course."
"As I said, I'm not that interested in a wife yet." Sunghoon said, guiding you to a small kitchen island, you had to squint in order to see your way through the dimly lit house.
"A drink for the lady?" Sunghoon offered, opening up a cupboard, "I've got whiskey, bourbon, and—" he stopped to look up at you and smirk, "—some special wine."
"What's so special about it?" You leaned against the counter, trying hard to look at him with seducing eyes, "Is it from France?"
"Jake got it for me." Sunghoon popped off the cork of the bottle with a quirk sound, "Apparently it's supposed to work in getting people..ahem-" he looked down, "Into the mood."
Aphrodisiac, you thought, you remembered Heeseung telling you about it once. He had wanted to buy some, before you scolded him, telling him that you were a big enough aphrodisiac for him. Once a laughable memory to you, seemed sadder now.
"Well?" Sunghoon snapped you out of your stupor once again, now nudging a glass of swirling maroon liquid into your hands. You hesitantly took the glass in your hands, inspecting it for a second, before downing it completely.
"Woah angel, slow down." Sunghoon took a sip from his own glass, "It won't work faster if you drink it faster."
Wouldn't it?, you wanted to question him, suddenly becoming hyper aware of Sunghoon's delicate features.
His hair fell perfectly onto his face in stray strands and his figure was strongly built, with slender waist and strong forearms, he almost looked feminine.
"Fuck..." You swore under your breath, holding your head in your hands, causing Sunghoon to look up worriedly. Setting his glass down and quickly walking over to you, he placed his hands on your lower waist before speaking.
"Alright there, sweetheart?"
"Yes I'm—fine." You forced out of your mouth, god did Sunghoon always smell this good?
Turning your body to his, your hands roamed over his stomach, and you could feel evident muscles through his thin shirt. Now that he had taken off his droopy coat, you realised how strongly built he really was.
"See something you like sweetheart?" His devilish smile came onto his face yet again, fueling the fire which kindled in your belly. Sunghoon's arms wrapped around your waist, eradicating the mere inches of air between you two.
One of his hands came up to your chin, his index lifting your dropping head up, as he examined it carefully. You could clearly feel the effects of the wine now, he looked so ethereal, whilst eyeing you up and down. He smirked once more.
"Let's go upstairs shall we, angel?"
|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•
Heeseung wasn't the kind of man to let go of his treasures that easily. So why exactly he had give you up, Sunghoon couldn't get the answer to that question.
It was invigorating to Sunghoon to see you undress for him. Just one look from his eyes and your shirt was on the floor, the faint tear stains on it forgotten, why would you ever remember Heeseung when a much handsomer devil was in front of you?
So there you were, standing in front of Sunghoon in your petticoat, which barely hid the black of your bra and panties. Not that you wanted to hide it anyway, you thought, internally smiling at how Sunghoon was looking at you with bedroom eyes, before walking over to you with slow steps.
"Heeseung's an idiot for giving up such a beauty." Sunghoon said to no one in particular as he eyed you up and down once more, taking in your nakedness with his ravenous eyes.
His hand came down to your inner thigh, your frail petticoat letting him feel the soft skin before he moved to your stomach. He smiled to himself as he lifted your bra up higher, his hand smoothing over the soft warm skin. Sunghoon bit his lip, his eyes looming over your visible breasts.
"Are you already ravishing me without even touching properly, detective Park?" You chuckled, leaning closer to him. Sunghoon raised a brow.
"I never knew Lee Heeseung's wife would be so..." He trailed off in silence causing you to smile.
"So what?" You quizzed his bemused figure, "So... experienced?"
"I was about to say attractive." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, "But then again—" he let go of your waist, striding to his bed and sitting down at the edge, spreading his legs in a way that made your insides unconsciously burn, "Heeseung isn't a man who'd marry some lowly wench, is he Mrs Lee?"
"You're being brave by calling me that." You followed his footsteps upto the bed, promptly settling yourself down on his thigh, he shuffled a bit to make you more comfortable, "You haven't called me by my name even once since we've arrived here. You just keep calling me angel."
"Why shouldn't I call you angel?" Sunghoon smirked, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pulling you down onto his thigh so harshly it made you wince, "Are you not one?"
"Poetic are you?" You scoffed, trying not to whimper at the distance between your lips and his, along with the added pressure of him keeping your clothed pussy firmly pressed to the fabric of his trousers, "Well, I'm no angel if you're expecting me to be one."
You didn't even get to blink an eye, before you felt your back land painfully against the soft matress. Sunghoon's hands burnt into the skin on your waist and his eyes raged with hellfire. He smelled of wet earth and rain on top of you, looking at you with hungry irises.
"Don't be an angel then." Sunghoon whispered, his jaw dangerously close to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips, "Just be a good girl for me yeah?"
Your hands found his stomach as his lips crashed onto yours. He was devouring you in every way possible, his breath coagulating yours, as he moved his sharp tongue across the flesh of your inner cheek. Your hands on the other side, were tracing his stomach. Through the thin cotton threads of his shirt, you could feel his muscles press against your palm as he kissed you, digging deeper with every moment.
"Sweetheart-" Sunghoon pulled away, you lifted your head slightly to catch his lips again, but he was quicker with his words, "-you've been groping my abs since forever now."
"Don't pretend like you don't like it." You scoffed, looking at him with a condescending expression. That devilish smirk came back to his face.
"Then why don't you get on them?" He asked, pulling away from you and instead lying down on the bed. His position was rather inviting, an unbuttoned shirt, (you had no idea how fast he had taken off his buttons), strong legs spread far apart, and a pretty face, illuminated by the faint moonlight.
You gulped heavily, hesitantly going near him, unsure of ether or not to get your ass onto his elysian figure. Sunghoon seemed to sense your nervousness, as he grabbed your arm and, with surprising strength, pulled you into himself.
As soon as your weight fell on his stomach, you mouth fell agape, and your face went down to make eye contact with him. You never noticed how beautiful Park Sunghoon's eyes were, they were always hidden under the guise of his rakish behaviour.
Sunghoon stops you for a second, motions for you to rise up slightly, and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your dripping cunt to the air.
“Just move your hips sweetheart,” Sunghoon said, his hands on your waist, helping guide your movements. You sighed in pleasure as you started to feel some pressure. He helped your grind on his chiseled abs, until you hit the correct spot, feeling your cunt practically mold onto his tummy.
“Good job, keep going angel.” He said letting you hold his shoulders for support. Seeing your mouth press into an 'o' shape made his carnivorous tendencies ignite on fire.
His hands float to your hips, encouraging you to continue. You drop back down on him, the feeling of your bare clit rubbing directly against the crests and troughs of his abs was indescribable.
Using his firm grip on your waist, Sunghoon pushes you further onto the sharp hills on his stomach, and you quicken your pace, the searing pleasure in your clit overwhelming you.
"Fuck angel," he says, which elicits a whine from you. "you look so fucking pretty like this."
Your back arches slightly at the sound of his praise, your pace quickening even more. His one hand moving upto your hair fists it tight, earning another whimper from you.
“Such a good girl, you're doing so good angel,” He said, now feeling subtle wetness stain his belly button.
“Oh fuck—I-uhh-“ you moan, going faster on Sunghoon's muscled tummy.
“You gonna cum angel?" Sunghoon asks, a mocking tone to his voice that turned you on even more, that his handsome carved face, like the muse of God's scribe himself.
“F-fuck I’m so close, Hoonie” You whimper, your mouth hung open as you breathe hard. Hearing the nickname, Sunghoon jerked his hips up slightly, making you let out a tiny scream at the stimulation on your raw cunt.
“Cum for me angel.” Sunghoon says. With a few more movements, you were cumming, your back arching into his chest as you felt your pussy get drenched.
You nearly screamed as it hit you so strong your body expelled him, along with your wet release. He was quick to move his hips up again, his cum-coated stomach making you feel things you had never felt before, pushing them into you with a loud squelch. Your senses were on overload.
Sunghoon was consuming your entire being. You could feel every inch of him and you didn’t want to stop. Your core began to tingle, feeling another orgasm approach you, reducing you to a blubbering mess.
“Look at what a mess you’ve made angel,” Sunghoon taunted as you came drastically all over his stomach, "messy girl aren't you?"
Sunghoon carefully gripped your waist and lowered you onto the bed, chuckling at how wet his tummy felt. Of all the women he fucked, you were certainly on the topmost tier.
"Wait a tick for me." You thought you had seen him wink at you, but you weren't sure due to the silent darkness, the only noise coming from the rise and fall of your chest. You heard Sunghoon open his bedside drawer, with a creaking noise.
As you relaxed into the sheets, trying to ignore Sunghoon's shuffling around the drawer, you saw him from the corner of your eye, finally taking something out from it. You could see the shape of something easily recognisable in his hands.
"Do you know what this is, angel?" Sunghoon's hands rested flat on either side of your head as he got on top of you once more, waving the dildo in your face, "Of course you do," he answered his own question, "Heeseung wouldn't have let such a good pussy go without one would he?"
"That asshole couldn't have fucked me better even with a dildo." You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "do you just have a market of toys in that drawer?"
"Let's just say a lot of women like the foreplay." You could see him smirk even in the darkness, "I mean if you don't want it, I can put it bac-"
"No that's not what I meant!" You panicked, grabbing his arm. You wondered what about your tone of voice made Sunghoon laugh out loud and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. If anyone asked you later on whether you have felt butterflies or not, you'd had said no.
"Lay down for me angel." His voice was gentler now, a beautiful facade to his internal desires.
Sunghoon places the dildo on your clit and he starts to slowly rub it using the toy while you moan loudly. Moving the toy up and down your pussy, your sinful symphonies become louder, as Sunghoon watched the juices spill from your pussy causing him to groan at the sight. He thrusts the dildo harshly into your walls, and with the slightest touch of the material to your clit, you moan louder than before.
“S-Sunghoon—fuck, I'm-” You moan out as a slap echoes in the room and you feel a sting against your ass cheek. Sunghoon's hand repeatedly thrusts the dildo into your walls, making you wish fervently for his cock to replace it instead. He turns the pace up again as you moan even more while he continues to thrust the dildo in and out of you.
"Aww you want to cum?” he asks, as you struggle beneath him, he wasn't allowing you the pleasure he promised. Your breath came unsteady, fulfilling the reticent desires of Sunghoon's sadistic side.
"speak up, angel, I can't hear you." Sunghoon whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. You quickly pursed your lips, letting yourself make only muffled sounds. but you didn't last long, as every thrust and every inaudible whimper seemed to forcefully open your mouth from the inside.
"so pretty.." Sunghoon trailed off, laughing at your pleasured pain, "You want to cum hm?"
"Sunghoon-"
"Beg for it, come on." He commanded, "Beg me to let you cum, go on."
You weren't ready to give in that easy, but Sunghoon knew that. With a slick, carefully placed flick of his wrist, the slightly sharp end of the dildo touched you in a place that could have made you reach heaven and come back.
"Fuck—Sunghoon please!" You cried, tears falling down your face at the stimulation, "Please—let me cum.."
"Well if you say so." Sunghoon chuckled as you could do nothing but nod and after a few minutes of using the dildo, he takes it out of your pussy, pressing it in again.
You finish for a second time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you.
Your juices coat the top of the dildo as you moan raucously, feeling ribbons of cum shoot onto the dildo, making Sunghoon smirk in evident pride.
Your arms grab his, as your chest arches into his mouth, hot and wet. You feel as his mouth comes off of the swollen bud as he removes the toy from your pussy, giving you pain and pleasure at the same time.
You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and hickeys on your tits where he had taken them into his mouth. Sunghoon placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around nothing.
"Can you take more, angel?" He whispered to you, smoothing your hair out with his hand.
Sunghoon didn’t give you enough time to answer over his words as his lips crushed to yours. His tongue invaded your mouth as his hands roamed over your body. His roaming hand grabbed your hair as he ripped your face off himself. He looked down at you as you breathed heavily from his attack on your mouth.
"Hoonie~" you moaned into his mouth, "Want—your cock—please."
That was all it took for Sunghoon to practically rip off his belt and trousers, now laying on the floor, with their owner on top of you. Your throat went dry at the sight of his cock, hard and pulsing, the head of it angry red, glistening with precum.
He pulled back slightly, positioning his cock at your entrance and grabbed a fistful of your hair, stretching your upper body closer to him, putting you into an unnatural position.
His body was perfect, lean and muscular, strong and sharp features etched onto his body that looked straight out of a painting.Your gaze wandered over his arms, his chest and down his waist, hips and strong legs; every detail and body part burning into your mind.
You pant heavily, gasping for air as his large cock stretches your insides. His eyes are darkened but a cocky smirk remains. Achingly slow he pumps in making your eyes roll back, groaning at the sight of your mouth slack and panting.
His hips were moving slowly, with deep hard thrusts that made you moan with each push. His hips were doing most of the work, the thrusts were deep enough and hard enough for you to melt against the bed but enough to make everything shake under your skin as you were taking everything he gave you.  Sunghoon was not going fast, which made you wonder for a split second if he wished to. 
"Yes….Hoonie…FUCK!" You mewled as he hit that spot inside of you, hearing him growl for a moment as he was still fucking you deep into the mattress. His hand that was holding your thigh was in a tight grip, not letting you faint as you clung onto his back of dear life, feeling your nails almost break the skin as your moans were getting louder and more vocal. 
His rhythm was consistent, not slowing down or going too fast just to drive you insane as you felt that feeling of an intense orgasm come over you again. 
 "I'm c-close, Hoonie—" You were moaning into his neck as he huffed and stopped his thrusts. You were about to protest at him, teetering right on the edge of that pleasurable fall when he moved swiftly once again. 
Still inside of you, he leaned back a bit and scooped you in his arms, bringing you closer to him. You let out a noise of pain as you felt his entire girth penetrate deep inside you.
As you threw back your head and moan loudly, it dawns on you how very fragile-mannered Heeseung has fucked you. Your hips tremble as your body tenses, the ragged breath escaping your mouth cuts through your symphony of whines.
"Hoonie~Sunghoon—I can't!"
"Yes you can." Sunghoon groans as he feels you clench around him tighter than ever, "Be a good girl for me, angel and take it."
 The knot in your stomach tightened and snapped, your walls spasming and clenching around him as you released all over his cock that was buried deep inside of you. You were seeing stars and your body was shaking from the intensity. 
His cock jerks around against your walls once, twice, before he’s creaming, filling you up with ropes of hot cum. He thrusts deeper into you, a melody arising from both your moans as you felt him inside your very soul.
Soft pants and deep breaths invaded the space around you, not a word being spoken. You stayed like that for only a few seconds, catching your breath as you both came down from your highs. He then carefully pulled out, muttering a string of curses and an unheard comment about the the mess you both made off of his sheets.
"Come on angel." Sunghoon muttered under his breath, in a barely audible voice, not that you were listening anyway, "Let's get you cleaned up."
|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•
"Tea?" Sunghoon offered you, your second cup of the night, "People say I make the best tea of all the precinct."
"Alright I trust you." You laughed, taking the mug in your hands and relaxing into the atmosphere of the cozy kitchen island, clad in a robe, you had no idea where Sunghoon got it from.
Calm silence followed, wherein you and Sunghoon sipped tea from your respective mugs. Yours had a 'To Uncle Sunghoon' on it, along with what looked like a child's drawing. You giggled to yourself. A gift from Sunghoon's beloved nephew, no less.
"Can-can I ask you something if you don't mind?" Sunghoon asked, and you noticed, that for the first time, there was no cocky tone to his voice.
"Go ahead." You smiled, "Unless it's about my first night with Heeseung."
"No no." Sunghoon laughed, taking another sup of his tea, his lips stained pink from all the kissing that had taken place, "I wanted to ask—how is it like, being married?"
You were taken aback by his question. Park Sunghoon, perhaps the last person on earth, who would ever think of marriage, was asking you about it? Had the bees stopped producing honey today?
"Well, I can't say," you started, "It's different for each person, you know. And, as time goes on, it changes. Which in my case-" you let out a cold laugh, "-is very evident."
Sunghoon was quick to put his hand on yours, giving it a tiny squeeze, along with a warm smile.
"You know who was really upset when he found out about...ahem.. your situation?" Sunghoon suddenly said, intriguing you.
"I don't know—Jay?" You said, realising you were right when you saw Sunghoon's expression, "Oh. Wait—Jay? You're not joking?"
"Y/N, trust me if you saw how much that man was brooding over it, you'd think he was your husband, not Heeseung." Sunghoon chuckled, downing the last bits of his tea, "Would you like to head to bed?"
Though you fell asleep soundly that night, wrapped in Sunghoon's surprisingly soft arms (now that the effects of the wine was over), you kept pondering over his words.
Jay—worrying about you? It was a heart thumping thought, which made you feel like what warm winter suns felt like. Jay Park, you sighed to yourself, before going off to sleep.
The day after tomorrow seemed too far away.
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usedpidemo · 5 months ago
Text
Life of the party (Loossemble Yeojin)
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You regret getting yourself out on the market so soon.
To be fair, it’s been a little over six months since your last breakup, the terms of which remain hazy, even to this day. It isn’t exactly a definitive conclusion, one where you can comfortably say you’re wishing each other the best, nor is it a destructive mess either. 
The unfortunate reality is: it was never gonna last. You both had it wrong from the start. The foundations of your relationship were built primarily around sex—pure, unadulterated, raw—at its most primal form. You had this magnetic effect on each other, your bodies crashing on top of the other endlessly, creating these seemingly boundless explosions until you couldn’t take it anymore. It took your body giving out for you to learn an important lesson: that much of a good thing can be turn bad.
So you confess that you need space, the same thing other girls have told you previously. You’ve certainly learned from each relationship, right down to the textbook words that signify each phase—and this was the decline. Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t take it well, and she lashes out in a fit of anger. 
You don’t see each other again. 
That should have been the end of that.
Except, you see her, six months on, hiding in the crowd of a party you have no business attending. 
—————
You recognize her right away: so distinctly small compared to everyone else that in any other situation, protecting her would be the first thing on your mind. Kids shouldn’t be allowed here, anyway; it’s only been five minutes and your senses are pervaded with the sights and smells of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and every negative vice under the sun. Except she isn’t a kid; she’s about as old as you, balancing her job and personal life like everyone else in this room. 
Surely, this has to be some kind of mistake—or an elaborate trap. 
“I’ve been trying to tell you,” you face Hyunjin, your self-proclaimed guide to this madness, expression uncertain, tone dour. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Kim Hyunjin doesn’t take no for an answer. She’s all about expanding her social circles and connections, others’ interests be damned. “Come on. Don’t be like that. You’ll find that everyone is friendly! Here, let me introduce you.”
Without hesitation or care for your concerns, she takes you by the hand and drags you to the first girl she spots with her eyes. “I’d like you to meet Hyeju.”
Hyeju stares at you with a cold, apathetic glare. On one hand is a cup, the drink barely consumed. Other than stand awkwardly, you’ve done nothing, yet you’re giving off quite a negative first impression. Jittery nerves, awkward expressions—it’s terrible body language that gets people ostracized and bullied on social media.
“Sup,” she says, casually, extending out her free arm to shake.
Initially hesitant, you acquiesce, smiling while trembling, as though you’re uncomfortable. The feeling is mutual. “Hello.”
Ever the social butterfly, Hyunjin isn’t able to read the room, oblivious to the fact that you and Hyeju are polar opposites. As a result, you’re both undeniably incompatible. At least you can find some commonality in being unable to move the chat forward; whether out of kindness or a general difficulty in making a meaningful conversation out of your circumstances is up for interpretation.
“Well, if you need me, I’ll just go to the bathroom,” Hyeju says, breaking the cold silence that has been occupying the space for minutes. It’’s so apparent, that it may as well have been hours. She walks away, much to your relief—and to Hyunjin’s disappointment.
“Typical Hyeju, so cold to everyone that isn’t a girl,” she remarks, shaking her head in disbelief in a playful manner. In reality, she should have realized at the outset it was an outlandish plan to link up with a man, much less someone new. 
Hyunjin looks around the area, scanning for potential new acquaintances and friends. She finds—no one. Everyone appears to have formed their own little groups or cliques, unintentionally singling you out. If there was any more apparent of a sign that you shouldn’t be here, this is it.
And you’ll make it known to her. Anything to get the notion through that thick skull of hers.
“See? I told you this party wasn’t meant for me,” you comment, moving your finger in every direction, pointing out the obvious. It’s certainly quite the problem—for Hyunjin that is. For you, it’s a blessing in disguise. “Look—if you want, I’ll just pick you up later. Just text me when you wanna go home.”
Annoyed, she shakes her head, vehemently denying the offer, pouting at you for even thinking about leaving her by herself. “Hey! Don’t be such an asshole, okay? You want me to make you look bad? Try it. I dare you!”
You can only sigh in defeat. That’s how these girls get you: by gaslighting or through emotional blackmail, and it works. Every single time. And even after making the same mistakes over and over, you still wonder why you’ve been through four failed relationships in two years, now on your fifth. Perhaps there’s a common denominator that you’re quite stubborn to admit or are completely unaware of—you.
Clearing your throat with a cough, you reply, “Can’t say I’ve been made to look bad before.”
You’re testing Hyunjin’s patience, and for no good reason. This party is the only thing she’s been looking forward all week long, and no amount of negativity is going to deny her. “Let’s just have fun tonight, all right? That’s all I want. Don’t piss me off. It’s been quite the week for me, and this is the only thing keeping me from going insane.”
You shrug at her demand; you’ll definitely have more fun being anywhere else but here. She doesn’t seem to care about your plight, why should you?
Still, you follow her close behind, sharpening your focus anad keeping a close watch around your surroundings. Hyunjin doesn’t know she’s here, let alone your entire history with her. What started as a dull, uneventful night has slowly turned into a high stakes game of cat and mouse. With her stature, she could be anywhere; in front of you, over your shoulder, even as your very shadow. 
So it becomes all the more troubling when Hyunjin does introduce you to more of her friends, keeping you preoccupied. She might as well have everyone form a large circle and present themselves like it’s the first day of class. You go through the motions, dropping all this information overload at the earliest opportunity in an attempt to keep some semblance of awareness around you. 
And sure enough, she’s there. She’s no hallucination. In the midst of the crowd, Yeojin stands across the room, all barely five feet of her. Her blue oversized sweater drapes half of her frame like a curtain. In one of the rare instances where her short stature works to her benefit, she effortlessly disappears when someone else walks between your line or sight, but not before smiling at you—grinning, asking, begging for trouble.
You blink twice, and before you know it, she’s gone. Your attention is suddenly called by Hyunjin, seemingly introducing you to yet another one of her friends. Still, your mind remains fixated on her—the girl you haven’t seen in six months. Her number had been removed from your contacts, every photo deleted and her social media accounts blocked. Of course, meeting her again was still plausible; you haven’t moved out from this side of the country, but the fact you’ve run into each other at the same building, at the same occasion—it seems too good to be true.
“Hey—I need to use the bathroom,” you tell Hyunjin mindlessly, your stare lingering at the open passage at the other side of the room, your escape route. The words seemingly go unnoticed, until you look at her, deep in conversation with her another one of her countless friends.
That’s your cue to escape.
So you make a beeline for the exit, trying to catch even the slightest glimpse, but to no avail. You scour every room, looking for any sign of her, only to find nothing. She could have easily left the party in the time you were distracted. Asking anyone for her whereabouts is akin to a death sentence; word spreads like wildfire, and if anyone else knew of your history with Yeojin, it would be the end of the world.
You recognize you’re tempting fate with your next decision. It’s dangerous. You should let her go; there’s a reason why you haven’t spoken to her ever since.
Going through your phone, you put in the numbers. Truth is, her number is no longer saved in your contacts, but kept deep inside your notes app. Taking a deep breath, you press the danger button, cautiously waiting for her to pick up.
She answers.
“Hey.”
Even through a single word, you can visualize that bratty, cocky grin. Her smug attitude, the triumph in her voice, it’s oh so crystal clear. As if you’ve finally come calling back like the prodigal son, having recognized the error of your ways, after swearing you’d be somebody without her, even though it’s the exact opposite: she’s the one who walked out on you.
“Yeojin.”
“Missed your babygirl?”
“Fuck you.”
She gets off on that one single word. It’s branded deep into her veins. Even when you’re no longer together, it’s become a part of her. To say you’ve left an indelible mark on her would be an understatement. You’ve changed Yeojin—for the worse.
“That word lost all its meaning when you walked out on me,” you follow, months of frustration boiling up through your voice. “So don’t come at me with that anymore.”
“Technically, I came up with the idea of calling me babygirl. So I have the final say in whether it means anything or not.”
There she goes again, not even thirty seconds in, acting as if she were the biggest, most important person, which right now, unfortunately, she is. You already knew how disastrous it would be to open Pandora’s box the moment you even thought of calling her, yet here you are, regretting that decision and its consequences. Clearly you didn’t think this through—or you simply just needed an excuse to get away from the crowd, from Hyunjin, from everything.
Likewise, she’s feeling the same way too.
“Anyway, what brings you crawling back? Let’s talk.”
“Yeah.” You carefully look over your shoulder, keeping tabs on the party happening inside. No one has thought of stepping out to catch some air, thankfully, but they’ll be coming out in droves soon enough. “Let’s talk.”
“Basement parking lot. If you dare,” she says before hanging up, challenging you, as if you weren’t planning to head there regardless.
—————
As the elevator doors open, Yeojin’s echoed laugh is the first thing that welcomes you to the otherwise empty parking lot. The second being her shameless, mocking face when she turns around and familiarizes herself with your presence. Scanning you from head to toe, her eyes glint with delight, seeing that for the most part, nothing has changed.
For the most part. You look traumatized.
“So great to see you again,” Yeojin remarks, running up to meet you in a warm, endearing embrace. “I missed you so much.”
Pushing her away, her lips can’t help but leave marks on your neck, leaving familiar pink lipstick marks on your skin. Barely a minute since you’ve reunited, and you’re already wishing Yeojin was once again gone in your life.
“C’mon, lighten up. Aren’t you happy to see me too?” She elbows your rib playfully, its impact a feathery blow but otherwise devastating to your psyche. Every little thing she does is purposefully curated and designed to piss you off. 
“You’ve left me with no other choice,” you tell her, sighing, wishing you’d be anywhere else but this building. It’s turned into your personal hell, your inescapable prison.
“Poor Hyunjin’s gonna be so heartbroken when she finds out you’ve left her for me,” she remarks, grinning, smirking, gloating. “How long have you been together? Two months?”
“Two weeks,” you immediately correct her, because in all honesty, you’re still in the talking stage. This party was a way—or a trap—for Hyunjin to get through your otherwise impenetrable shell. She doesn’t seem to have learned from others that you’re the homebody, stay at home type. Maybe she does, but she believes she can fix you. And maybe it’s for the better to end this relationship before it deepens further, because it’ll probably hurt less—for her, at least.
Yeojin makes a face—exaggerating her features, surprised that you didn’t spend the last six months isolating yourself in your apartment, ashamed after fumbling the self-proclaimed so-called cutie hottie of the city.
“That’ll do it,” she continues to comment, her tongue a weapon to fire against anything and anyone.. “I’m amazed that it took you that long to leave her. Such a talkative bitch, right? I bet she won’t let you hit that fat ass of hers.”
To her credit, she’s correct about two of three things. You’re baffled at how she still has friends, knowing how much she constantly spites them behind their backs, and how narcissistic she is. Your conversations with her prove this.
But to avoid pouring fuel to the fire, you simply let it pass without another word, until she’s forced to change the conversation.
“So—you wanna come fuck me?” Yeojin is so unabashedly straightforward that it’s refreshing, as much as you hate how direct and to the point she is. “I don’t see any reason for us to talk any further, except for slamming that big cock of yours inside me.”
Taking a step back, you’re not exactly stunned by her choice of attire tonight. If there’s anything Yeojin has taught you, it’s to be prepared for any opportunity where she’ll pounce and you’re forced to fuck her brains out. She’s always been like this: dressing the bare minimum to avoid getting arrested under public indecency, making the flimsiest excuses to get railed that she’d forgo all pretense and be candid about wanting to walk around with your cum leaking from her cunt. She loves the thrill of the chase, while you hate drawing all this unwanted attention by playing along with her dangerous antics.
It’s why you wanted out to begin with.
“How’d you know I was gonna be here?” you question her, despite recognizing that she’ll give an unreliable answer.
“Everyone knows this is the party to be at,” she comments, tone matter-of-fact, crossing her legs, her arms folded behind her back. “All our college friends are here. It’s a reunion. Didn’t Hyunjin tell you that?”
You overlooked all the fine details when she was discussing this with you on the way here. Maybe even while you were busy gaming yesterday.
“Well that explains why I saw Heejin back there, and the others, I guess.”
“Still the forgetful S.O.B even after all this time,” she remarks, unable to resist throwing whatever snide remark she can. “You know Sooyoung was there too! Your ex? And Yerim! Your other ex. And also Jinsol—”
“You know damn well I didn’t ask to be invited,” you say, crossing your arms and shooting her a frustrated glare. It’s an anger aimed toward your circumstances, not specifically at Yeojin herself, even if she was the icing on the cake of what is a rather miserable night. “Given any other choice, I’d rather not call you. Nine times out of ten.”
“Yet here you are—stuck with me. So who’s really the loser now?”
God, Yeojin makes it difficult to be patient sometimes. Often, actually.
“Let me put it to you this way,” Yeojin starts again, and you’re certain she’s about to say something dangerous.. There’s a persuasiveness in her delivery that you can’t help but listen. “You don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I just want to get fucked, but this is boring me. You’re bored as hell, too. Do you see where I’m coming from?”
In all honesty, yes you do. You could have seen the conclusion coming a mile away.
“Yeah. You’re asking me to fuck you.” 
“Exactly!” Yeojin grins at your response, elated to hear the answer straight from the source. She’s full of joy, she’s close to jumping for joy at how well you know her after all this time. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “So you can either do one of two things: you can leave me here, pretend this never happened, and go back up there. And God knows if that place is a wreck by now. Or, you can have me here. Up to you.”
You look left and right, scanning your surroundings. Ticketing is electronic, so there is little risk of getting caught by guards. But then, there are cameras scattered all over the place. And while there are dozens of rows with cars parked side by side to hide behind, there’s no telling exactly when someone is going to emerge from that elevator and peek through your secret act, even if everyone is all conveniently partying upstairs making a bigger scene.
Yeojin’s pushing the limit as to how you can come away with her completely unscathed. So really, it’s a pick your poison situation, with either choice resulting in a slow, agonizing death.
A gunshot to the head would be a better fate than this.
“You’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to fuck you in an empty parking lot, Yeojin,” you tell her, unamused at the offer. There’s a third, hidden option that doesn’t have to involve this much risk; it’s hiding somewhere beneath that playful facade of hers. 
Yeojin doesn’t flinch at all. She knows you can take it and follow through, as you have done for her countless times. In the movie theater, in a bathroom stall, in the locker room—you’ve followed her through some of the most cramped and dangerous places, leaving a scene behind, barely escaping with your lives. If anything, a parking lot is on the tamer side. So much legroom, so much space, with little in terms of opposition—you’re never gonna have this free of a runway to fuck her brains out that isn’t confined to a bedroom, which, in her words, is ‘boring.’
Yeojin faces you with a smirk. A taunting, shit-eating grin that’s insufferable to stare at for longer than five seconds. She stares back as if she’s got it all mapped out, which, judging by how composed and deliberate she has been, is more likely than you think. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had spent the past few weeks positioning everything to fall into their respective place, working around countless different outcomes, to lure you out for the occasion. 
From the pocket of her oversized sweater she pulls out a pair of keys, jingling them directly in your face. Pressing a button, a clicking sound echoes throughout the basement. It’s the alarm coming from your car.
Panic immediately sets in. “How did you—”
“Took em’ while I was hugging you,” she says, her confidence at an all-time high, flaunting the item around like it’s hers. Like she owns you.
“Give it,” you demand, extending your hand out, deliberately ignoring the obvious: she won’t yield easily.
“Nah,” is the immediate response, silent but heartily laughing at your admittedly feeble and foolish attempt to reason with her. “Gonna have to play with my terms.”
“Will you stop—God damn it.” 
You’re falling back into old ways like they’re worn out shoes. Like it’s second nature, a force of habit. She’s living in your head rent-free.
“No problem.” Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turn around and make a beeline for the lone elevator. The most effective way to kill something is right at the source: her desire for attention. “I’ll be back later for the keys when the party’s done.”
“What? You’re seriously not gonna go up there, are you?” Yeojin doesn’t buy your ruse one bit. “You wanna lose a perfectly nice car to the girl you already lost too?”
“You need a booster seat to see the road clearly, bitch,” you retort, your heated exchange turning into an impromptu screaming contest. “And besides, you still don’t have a fucking driver’s license.”
Right then and there, triggered by your remark, she snaps. 
Briskly following you in hot pursuit, you shut the elevator door on her as you’re taken up back to the party. Missing you by the slimmest of margins, the last thing you see before the panels close is her scowl, a fist hurled in the air, and the echo of a emphatic ‘fuck’ that rips through the entire basement.
Only now are you starting to truly grasp the consequences of reopening old wounds.
When you rejoin the function, the atmosphere and overall area has turned into an irredeemable mess—a far cry from when you first entered the room. The whole place reeks of smoke, alcohol, and even slick. There’s guests laid out on the floor unconscious, choking in a pool of their own saliva and vomit, while everyone else has turned up their lasciviousness and energy up to eleven. You’re searching for Hyunjin, hoping she hasn’t been corrupted by the madness of it all, and you eventually find her—deep in a passionate kiss with Heejin in the corner of the karaoke room, behind a sea of other inebriated partygoers. 
And even if you screamed from the depths of your lungs, the guy on the microphone—not even trying to hit a note—overpowers anything else. He’s singing close to the mic, filling the room with a horrible screech that fucking rings, leaving a resounding pain thumping in everyone’s ears, including yours. 
You recognize the whole situation is a complete and utter disaster. The best option being, throwing yourself out the balcony. Someone probably did.
So before someone exposes you to more doses of lethal poisoning, you quickly shuffle out of there, and bolt into the elevator. You don’t head for the basement, because a little demon is waiting for you there. Instead, you land on the ground floor, quietly walking past the front desk and security like a local tenant. They’re just standing there, idle and seemingly oblivious to the situation happening upstairs. There’s no way anyone dwelling near hasn’t called the security on them.
None of that is your business, however. 
As you make your way out the apartment lobby and into the foyer, your phone receives a text. One you shouldn’t be giving a second of your attention to. It’s Yeojin.
> Where tf are you
She’s typing as you read, while you’re waiting for her to finish her follow up before possibly replying:
> You know I can’t fucking drive
You chuckle at her self-awareness, regardless of the sincerity—or lack thereof. She’s still going:
> I know you’re not at that party. I just KNOW
> Tell me where tf are u
You think about it for a good minute or two, undecided on whether to leave her on read or to actually formulate a response. You settle on the latter.
> Keep my keys warm for me, I’ll come by for them next week
She doesn’t reply back. Instead, she decides to call you straight up, and you’re still playing with fire, answering her right away:
“Hello?” Yeojin’s already shouting through the phone, but it’s nothing compared to the absolute violation that is the guy on the karaoke.
“Hey.”
Her spunky rage echoes through the phone’s seakers, charming more than threatening. She’s barking angrily like a tiny dog. “Are you seriously gonna leave me? Without your keys? I’m going to throw them away. And then what will you do?”
“Go ahead,” you tell her, matter-of-fact, because you know she won’t follow through. She’s all bark and no bite.
Yeojin growls, so evidently frustrated, so annoyed that you’re not as flexible as you once were. “I hope she fucking cheats on you!” she yells, eliciting a gentle chuckle out of you.
“What’s so funny?” she adds, catching your half-hearted laugh through the grainy reception.
“God seems to have heard you then.”
“She did? Really? What happened now?” Yeojin sounds surprised, as if she hasn’t been secretly praying for you and your loved ones’ downfall ever since. 
“I saw her making out with Heejin. As in, deeply lip locked. Tongues out and everything.”
After pausing for a moment, letting the details sink in, she says, “Well. I shouldn’t be surprised about that. They’re joined at the hip, honestly.” 
“Really?”
“Mhm. But look—” her inflection abruptly shifts, going from relaxed to casual. “Let’s just call it a truce for tonight, yeah? I’m tired. You’re tired. I just wanna go home, and so do you. So tell me where you are exactly, and I will give back the car key.”
You find Yeojin willingly surrendering hard to believe, as if you’ve suddenly stepped into an alternate reality. That, or her attitude has changed abruptly in the span of five minutes for no good reason. “Are you being serious for once? I don’t buy it.”
“You’re so unbearable, you know?” she replies, confirming your theory that she hasn’t changed—at least completely. But after firing back, she groans, deflated. “Just tell me where you are so we can talk like adults for once.”
Your eyes happen to stumble upon a cafe across the street, open 24 hours. You’ve found it; the place where you’ll settle the score and arrange everything on your terms.
—————
As soon as you finish stirring your coffee, Yeojin comes into view. Slowly approaching you, her mannerisms are careful, deliberate, as though you’re two professionals meeting for business negotiations. You don’t welcome her with any pleasantries—no greetings, no playful taunts, only a cold, watchful glare.
Sitting down across you, she notices there’s only one cup of coffee on the table. It bothers her seeing you like this: moving on your own, without her at your side. It’s completely unnatural. “Didn’t think to order me one?”
You blink a few times. Not a single word is uttered. You carefully lift the cup and take a sip of your drink before putting it back down, much to her not so subtle chagrin. 
She takes a deep breath and exhales. Every quiet interaction, every movement of the eyes is a tense exchange. Neither of you are willing to make the first move, cautious of getting undercut or taken by surprise. It’s a quiet stalemate. 
Eventually, Yeojin relents. Leaves you for a moment to buy her own drink. The realization finally dawns on her: that you’re not going to budge or fold like you used to.
And for once, she should grow up too.
“What’s with the look?” Yeojin casually shoots at you, taking a sip of her iced coffee, pointing out your stone-faced expression. Her observation: it looks painful holding on to that face. Your muscles must be straining keeping it together. “It’s not like I’m gonna pull a gun on you and rob you, or anything like that.”
An incorrect assessment. She does have something you need: your car keys.
“Is it because of me?” she adds, jokingly pointing her index finger back at herself. Knowing very well that she’s a huge reason why. It’s in her blood not to take issues seriously whenever it concerns you. “I know. Don’t worry. Lighten up a bit.”
But you don’t, out of precaution—worried of what may happen when she sees the slimmest of openings.
She leans forward, her frame halfway over the table. Her stature means she has to make a concerted effort to reach you, which has been the story of her night so far. Even her attempt at looking angry comes off as half-hearted and unserious. It shows when she tries to grab for your shirt; she physically can’t—unless she wants to pay the cafe for a new desk.
“Yeojin, please,” is your reply, huffing in her direction before looking away, avoiding eye contact.
“Please what? Stop being annoying?” she says, offended by the implied intention, when in reality, you just want things to be resolved once and for all. That you can go your separate ways and never cross paths again. 
What a cruel thing to do in her eyes. 
“How bout you stop being a bitch so I can give you your damn car keys back?” Yeojin finally breaks from her playful facade, fiercely jingling your keys in front of you, having abandoned all sense of subtlety and teasing. The desperation is finally catching up. “Jesus. You’re just as annoying as when I left you.”
Of course, it doesn’t bother you in any shape or form. She grows more frustrated at your lack of a direct response.
Placing the keys on the table, she sits back down, averting your gaze but in the opposite direction—sighing.
You shoot her a brief glance, checking once, then again for good measure, before sneakily taking the car keys back while she hasn’t noticed. Unsurprisingly, it’s part of yet another plan of hers.
“Go. Take them. If it that’s what will make you happy,” she blurts out, evidently defeated, her tone crestfallen. “I just wanted to see you. You know—for old times sake.”
“Hey. Don’t get all nostalgic, saying you miss me when you were the one that walked out on me, remember?” You shut down all hopes of reconciliation with that one response. “I can see why you haven’t been in a relationship for longer than two weeks.”
Yeojin turns her head toward you, visibly irate. She looks as if she’s refusing to take accountability. “You know today’s my birthday right?”
“Is it?” you tell her, knowing she’s lying with a straight face—it was two weeks ago.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says, leaning slightly forward on the table. “As if you haven’t been following me in secret. All those pictures I’ve been posting on Instagram—”
“Has nothing to do with me,” you interrupt, brushing her rebuttal away as if it were meaningless. “You’ve always been thirst trapping. Seriously, you should take up being a camgirl if you want all that attention.”
Yeojin narrows her eyes. Try as she might, there’s no universe where she rips your throat out at the suggestion. “No fucking way.”
“I could help you make an account if you’re having problems signing up,” you tell her, “At least you can make money that way. And you get to have a new guy to use as your personal toy every single week without looking stupid.”
“It means nothing without you,” she says, taking another sip of her drink in between. “Something about you feels—different. Like, this all feels hollow and useless when you’re not around.”
“Stop being melodramatic and embrace what you really are,” you immediately retort, not buying her feeble attempts at sentimentality. “A slut.”
“Are you being dense?” Yeojin’s voice turns a bit more raspy and sharp with each response, as if she’s being attacked on a personal level, when it’s all true. You’ve found her like this: a thirst trapping self-professed model who posts suggestive pictures of herself and in the lewdest poses. Fifty thousand followers and eight boyfriends later, not much has changed. Making herself look available despite being in said relationships, using the most suggestive captions—they might as well be nonexistent. “I’m not a slut!”
“Yeah you are,” you tell her, flashing your phone displaying her current boyfriend’s Instagram page. The last post dated barely over 24 hours ago, her side profile clearly in view, kissing him on the cheek. No lying or running around such evidence. “A slut. Does he—”
Yeojin leans back on the couch, her infidelity exposed, distraught at getting caught red handed. She doesn’t even try to keep the secret contained, belting out her demand, “Hey—don’t you fucking dare send anything!”
“I’m not going to,” you tell her, pulling back your phone, taking no pleasure from cornering her like this. More often than not, reining her in was a burden and an immense struggle that didn’t provide any relief, only uncertainty as to when she’ll break loose again. She’s never been comfortable as a caged animal; she has to run free. “I think I oughta let him know where your whereabouts are, you know? Out of concern for—”
She’s suddenly lunging for your phone, trying to snatch it off your hands. Shielding it with your body, her strikes prove to be surprisingly painful, knocking the breath from your lungs, but you hold on—for her sake and yours especially. When she relents, you take the opening to push her away, sending her back on the other side.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she says, grasping at straws to gain even a little sympathy or favor back, when all that goodwill disappeared the moment she walked out of your life. You press somewhere on your phone—and the sound rings through her ears like a gunshot. Drawing it back to your pockets, you’ve seemingly fired a weapon aimed directly at her heart.
“Too late.” 
Yeojin melts, falling further into the couch, having put her down for good.
“I hope you didn’t actually send it,” she mutters from beneath the table, away from your direct view, her final cry of defeat. “God, don’t take this from me, please—” she’s pleading, begging for her life, knowing it’ll be what ends her. 
“You’ve done this to yourself,” you tell her, sounding like a judge sending her off to her damnation. “You left me with no other choice.”
“Really, I didn’t,” she replies, still refusing to take any sort of accountability for her actions, and that’ll never truly change. “He—he didn’t wanna go with me to the party.”
“Did he ask for an invite? Or did you simply leave him behind without a second thought?”
Yeojin cannot answer that question. She goes quiet, unable to respond.
“I figured,” you tell her, feeling a little sympathy for how vulnerable and defeated she looks. “If you seriously think you can crawl your way out of this one, you’re gravely mistaken.”
It’s easy to remember why leaving Yeojin—or in this case, Yeojin leaving you—was the best thing to ever happen to your life. Cleaning up after her is often a chore, one that requires so much effort for someone of her little stature. You can’t even pick her off the couch without applying some force; she’s lying on her side, staring blankly into the darkness, her soul drained in its entirety, but her body glued to the couch. Had she been a pet, and believe her, she’d rather be an animal more than human, she’d be living her best life, getting all the attention she craves and doing whatever she wants without punishment. But in this world, actions have consequences, and she’s starting to reap what she has sown.
It’s a good thing no one else is around to see or hear your little scene. Nevertheless, you might as well keep it contained before word spreads like wildfire. 
You don’t want to be seen with her in public ever again.
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Locking yourselves inside the men’s bathroom, you plop Yeojin down on the floor. Despite looking modern, it’s not the most well-maintained. Someone should really get on it, but the workers aren’t paid enough to care. She fits naturally in her new surroundings: strewn on the floor in nothing but messy clothes and passed out after a wild night of unchecked debauchery.
“I hate you,” she murmurs, getting off the ground and sitting right in front of you, within close proximity of your pants. You’re unbuckling the belt, working your way down the zipper and buttons. “If you think giving me your cock as consolation is gonna make me feel better—”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” you tell her, pulling down your trousers and whipping out your cock from its confines, stroking it to full mast in front of her face. It’s not enjoyable whatsoever; if anything, it feels like a waste of a perfectly hot load to give back to someone you hate. You’re questioning yourself if this is even the right thing to do—which it isn’t. 
Yeojin takes hold of your cock mid pump, begging softly with her eyes to allow her control. You oblige her as she jerks your tip toward her pristine features, her fingers moving like it’s second nature. “Yeah, but you didn’t have to push me like that. I mean—he’s still my boyfriend—”
“Not anymore,” you remark, grabbing a fistful of her short dark locks, eliciting a whiny yelp from her saccharine lips. “This is for ruining my night,” you rasp, breathing heavily as her grip spreads throughout your loins, struggling to keep yourself together. All that pent up frustration finally bubbling to the surface, and now with an outlet for release. 
The timing couldn’t have been any more perfect.
Soon, your muscles tense and tremble uncontrollably as Yeojin’s hot breath and lips fill themselves with your cock. Slowly but surely, her mouth takes you, inch by inch, her tongue wrapping and licking around the tip, down your length, and you can’t contain yourself any further. As pleasure builds from within your stomach, you gradually loosen up—groaning away from her in a half-assed attempt to hide your not so subtle enjoyment. 
“Maybe I do miss this mouth,” you blurt out, heaving deeply between breaths as her noises vibrate and surge through your shaft, reaching the ends of your body, shocking every nerve. From careful reluctance to reinvigorated enthusiasm, Yeojin sinks back in, having never lost a beat in the time she’s last filled her mouth full of you. With all the relationships she’s had ever since, it would have been disappointing had she forgotten how to work her magic. Fortunately, sucking cock is one department she has never let you down on.
She releases your cock from her lips with a wet, audible pop, giving your tip a kiss. Looking up, the grin on her features is reforming. “Aha—I knew you would fucking fold like a bitch—”
You force yourself back in, dissolving her words with a mouthful of cock, pulling at her locks to regain command. Digging her fingers deep into your thighs, unwilling to let go, you’re back at square one. This is how everything starts: with Yeojin on her knees, her hands gripped to your skin, sucking on your shaft while you drag her by the hair. It’s a twisted game of tug of war, where both of you end up winners.
But right now, you have the upper hand: Yeojin’s satisfied moans reverberate through your shaft, disappearing and reappearing in her mouth with a fresh coat of saliva and precum. She’s bobbing her head back and forth, her cheeks hollowing out, her lips reaching further down your length with each stroke. She’s eerily quiet too, her noises reduced to mostly incoherent sounds as she dives further down, kissing and sucking on your balls, gasping at little breaths for air. It feels so good, so heavenly, that you’re considering backtracking all those missteps from long ago.
All this ecstasy for you and you alone—your lust and greed knows no bounds.
She looks up, her eyes wide, your cock pressed halfway between her mouth, spit falling from the edges of her lips, muttering, vibrating: “You like that? You like what I’m doing to your cock?”
“Fuck—fuck yes, babygirl.” 
You finally fold, using the one word you swore to never use again, breaking your own sacred vow. It should hurt, but it doesn’t—it was never really of dire importance, anyway. So much for being the bigger person in this relationship.
“That’s right. Tell me I’m your babygirl,” she goads, going down and sucking your balls a second time, giving them a squeeze, twisting your head into a pile of mush.
Even when you pull by her hair, Yeojin uses it to her advantage, pressing her nose against your stomach, her lips reaching your base, kissing you and marking every inch of your cock with her lips. This indescribable suction that absolutely swallows you—it’s a miracle you haven’t dissolved right then and there. Your senses are beyond overwhelmed, and it’s only registering blurs of her: her eyes, her moans, her everything. It’s come to a point where you’re forced to pump into her, filling her down to the throat in a desperation attempt to keep the fire burning.
Those fucking eyes—staring back and forth between your aimless gaze and your cock. It’s unbelievable. The room begins to spin around. There’s so much happening all at once to say a single word, let alone an entire sentence. Even when she’s gagging and coughing, she’s still relentless, her efforts steady and unshakeable. Only God knows the smile hiding beneath the pain and pleasure, getting what she wants in the end.
“So—so fucking close—” you manage to sputter, your jaw going completely slack, your groans reaching up to high heaven in a thunderous echo. The tug on her hair is so tight, you’re threatening to rip them out. 
With your cock buried deep in her throat, Yeojin’s eyes are welling up from the overwhelming sensation, basking in this old, familiar feeling. She doesn’t know if she’ll get an opportunity like this again (hopefully more in the future). Her fingers clamp around your length, ensuring your load lands nowhere but her. Face, mouth, clothes—anything to cover her as a memento reminder of what things used to be. 
She effortlessly strokes away, fully sinking into the act. Your cock tenses and tenses, until the pressure becomes too suffocating. You can’t hold it in any longer; you can only hope the outcome isn’t violent enough to be made into a crime scene.
It takes only a few more fleeting moments. Between raging storms, there’s calms that give off the illusion that everything will be fine—when there’s no chance of that happening. The confined space fills your ears with echoes of lewd noises, her dampened moans, your throaty grunts, and everything else in between. Her hot breath tickles your cock, muttering a gentle whisper, a soft plea (please cum), and it sends you careening over the edge.
A slosh sound passes through deaf ears, and you’re left blind, screaming, throbbing for her. Releasing your load, shooting heavy blasts into something—someone—till your cock no longer aches. Pulling her hair is like pulling a broken lever: completely ineffective and useless. 
When you finally snap from your spiraling daze, you’re welcomed back by the most snapshot pornographic image you’ve ever seen: her mouth wide, tongue exposed, sticky white and full of cum. It’s everywhere—on her hair, dripping down her face and chin, even on her clothes. You didn’t think Yeojin could gleam any brighter, but she’s glistening so brilliantly it’s blinding. 
��Mmm,” she hums to herself, licking herself clean of all the mess, if there’s even anything to salvage, while you’re left wobbling, struggling for air. “Fuck. That tastes so good.”
She’s running her fingers along the fabric, picking off what little pieces of you remain. Lingering on the blots on her sweater, she realizes it’s beyond wear and begins to lift the garb over her head. Behind that thick piece of clothing, she’s wearing—nothing.Not even a bra. Her wooly fleece is hiding those small but taut nipples and the rest of pale, creamy skin.
But before you get a good view, you reach for her arms and bring them back down. “Shit. Shit. Stop.”
Startled at your sudden turn and lunge, Yeojin backs away. “What are you—”
You snap at her, “Quiet.” 
You hurriedly reach for the exit. Carefully opening the door and looking outside, you notice that not much has happened, if at all.  And then your eyes widen at the new sight. Two new customers have entered the store and are making their way around a table, drinks in tow.
As you lock the door behind you, Yeojin looks at you amusingly, her gaze mostly centered around your oozing cock. “Damn. I thought you were gonna run around the cafe with—that.”
You fire back with a quiet, yet resounding glare. She doesn’t react whatsoever. Here’s you again, making impulsive moves, almost threatening to get caught in public like that.
“I mean, everyone’s gonna see that—”
“Hush.” 
Placing a finger between her lips to shut her up, understandably, you’re irate. Somehow, your head wasn’t in the right place. Those last ten minutes and beyond, from the time you carried Yeojin into the men’s room till now—you didn’t think you were gonna wind up like this. Public restrooms were always how you’d get yourselves in trouble, and how she’d prefer getting fucked.
It should have been a thing of the past, a part of you buried deep in the absolute depths of your mind. Yet here you are, carrying Yeojin onto the sink, pulling on her clothes. One after another, her platforms and stockings fall to the floor, until she’s left with the thinnest piece of underwear imaginable. And then you’ve come to the realization about two things: one—she’s not wearing anything other than a skimpy thong beneath, cleverfully concealed by her oversized sweater, and two—she’s soaking wet. A careful touch of her nylons reinforces your observation.
“I hope you’re fine going home without your stockings,” you tell her, kicking the soiled garments beneath the sink. Hopefully no one gets a hint as to whoever’s left them behind. “Jesus—you’re fucking horny, you know that?”
Yeojin giggles. She wears your comment like a badge of honor. 
Wrapping her arms around your waist, she’s hoping to get the rest of your clothes off in return, but you push her away. Shaking your head in disagreement, you follow with, “Do as I say, and we’ll get through this—quickly.”
As you try to keep her in check, she’s already looking for other ways to mess you up. Case in point, her fingers are pumping your cock back into hardness, forcing that last word to come out a tone higher. She wraps you around her hands, squeezing what little cum you currently have, moaning at the slick, silky touch. Her legs are spreading wide in an effort to distract you from the primary concern, which is her.
“But what if I don’t wanna do it quickly? What if I wanted you to fuck me for hours?” she playfully asks, twisting her grip tighter to elicit a cry from you. “What if I wanted to fuck me till I pass out? Like you always have?”
“Mm—not gonna happen,” you sputter out, swiping her hand away before ultimately seizing it, relieving the pain for now. “Not if you keep being this stupid.”
“Not you calling me stupid—aah—ah fuck—”
Yeojin trembles from the waist up, her train of thought derailed by the new sensation entering her dripping pussy: your cock. Both of you form a harmonious cacophony of moans that fill the confined room as your bodies intertwine. The hot sensation of your shaft impales her in brutal slow motion, her skinny thighs clamping around your hips, the tug of her cunt near inescapable as you fill her to the hilt. 
At first, she wrestles for control. Pulling at your shirt, at your skin, threatening to rip your flesh clean, as a respite. But as the feeling overwhelms her sense, she’s losing the fight just as quickly. Your bodies are perfectly connected, fit as two pieces of a puzzle that complete the other. Her eyes flare wide open, her gaze shooting up to the ceiling as she begins to ascend. “H-holy shit—this—so—goddamn big—”
The feeling is mutual. “God, Yeoj—you’re—goddamn tight—fuck—”
Her cunt clenches, and it’s so, so intoxicatingly tight. As if she were really built to be used and fucked. Not to mention, her stature makes her easy to carry and toss around on a whim.
Little by little, you’re lifting her off the sink, giving her no choice but to cling to you for support. Might as well; no one else is able to give her the time of day and the same level of care and attention as you, both emotionally and sexually. There’s a reason why she’s come back to you like a needy, loyal pet. 
Her nails dig into your scalp and at the back of your neck. Whispering against your ear, her breath hot, she begs, “Fuck me. Please—fuck—fuck—ah!”
And you’re doing exactly that. Carefully drawing your cock back close to her slick entrance, you’re thrusting upward, your bodies uncontrollably trembling and quivering as you plunge back in, delivering a stroke that makes Yeojin scream. She’s so feathery, so airtight, that you can bear the weight of the world and then some.
She drives her fingers deep into your skin, aching, crying. “So—so fucking good—I missed this—more—more—”
And you’re doing it again. Giving her exactly what she wants: a slow, good fucking. It’s what she lives for: to be pounded and used, to be an outlet of pleasure. 
You’re hammering up and into her, gripping her lean waist pressed against the bathroom sink, your attention focused on the little details. The whispers that fill your ears, the repetitive but gratifying moans and begs she makes, asking for more, harder, faster, and the satisfaction that comes with being fucked senseless. The way her legs clamp tight with each thrust. The restroom wasn’t designed to keep secrets; it’s clear in your collective groans and grunts that bounce off the thin four walls of this confined space. You can only hope you’re not being loud enough for those two patrons to hear.
Better yet, you can only pray Yeojin’s voice cracks, because even after yapping up a storm, she’s keening. Her tone rides a delicate wave between soothing, gentle quiet and eardrum shattering, high alert whining. You’re unsure if it's a joke or if she’s really feeling each stroke. you can never tell whether Yeojin is truly serious, even during sex. Regardless, her cries are breaching through the confines of the bathroom, and you can’t contain her, even if you tried.
And she loves it. More than anything, it’s the thrill. The possibility and wanting to be caught. Consequences be damned, if she can get railed in public, she absolutely will. It’s the sort of attention she craves for, the one people will remember—for better or for worse. Someone like her can’t simply be bottled up.
With it comes a new idea. You prop Yeojin back on the sink, facing her against the mirror and bending her over the counter. 
“You wanna see yourself getting fucked? Here.” 
Grunting against her ear, you tilt up Yeojin’s head as the glass reflects your image back. Her mouth falls wide as you fill her cunt with your cock, a thunderous echo slipping from her lips, her cry reverberating through the bathroom. Taking a mental snapshot of your position, it’s here where you notice that there is, in fact, a camera hidden in the corner of the restroom. The entire time, you’ve been under surveillance, but that’s the least of your concern. It’s about how you’re gonna make a good impression, despite facing away, the mirror serving as your primary point of focus.
And damn, you look so good together, fitting like a glove.
Before you lose control over Yeojin, you’re making an even worse mess of the restroom thanks to her. With each thrust, her slick spills from her core and onto the floor, onto your pants. You have her hands pinned on the sink for good measure, foregoing any sort of pace and rhythm for quick, senseless pounding. Her face is utterly wrecked, her features constantly twisting and contorting, dropping the occasional curse and praise here and there. The echo of skin slapping skin rings like music to your ears. It’s pushing you further than her continued cries for more.
It’s already perfect as is, but then she’s wrapping a leg around yours, and you’re daring to try something new. 
So you lift her off the ground, wrapping both her legs around your hips, before continuing to hammer into her. Holding Yeojin by the waist, her back arches up, with her petite ass following along. Your cock comes into view, disappearing and reappearing behind her glistening hole, wet and coated with copious amounts of nectar. Every entry and exit feels smooth and effortless, as if you’re meant to be. 
She tries to push herself up, and it gives you another idea. Brushing a hand up her lean figure, lifting her sweater slowly, eventually reaching her chest. An emphatic cry assaults your ears as you grab one of her tits, crushing it under your grasp.
It’s unfortunate you can’t push her jumper up a little more. What’s even the point of putting on a show when they can’t see?
Still, she feels so soft and malleable, ready to be used at your command. You’re rubbing your fingers along her taut nipple, rigid to touch, and it forces out these whines out of her. Anything to keep your mind off the inevitable, and it’s close. Everywhere you look, she’s right there, overwhelming your senses. Her pussy convulsing, her ass rippling with each stroke, her half nude figure you’re dying to strip completely—it’s all too much. The knot between your stomach grows tighter and tighter, choking you till you’re close to suffocating.
Admittedly, it’s happening sooner than you hoped. This is what you wanted from the start, but as you’ve been fucking her and remembering why you’ve put up with her for so long, you’re starting to second guess every decision.
There’s only so much to regret.
“Gonna cum again, babygirl—” you hiss, shutting your eyes and pouring every effort into filling her, making sure she never asks for anything from you ever again. Rolling your hips forward and with your bodies crashing violently, you have no choice but to hold onto her for safety.
And that’s what completely ends you.
In that particular stroke, as you fill Yeojin to the absolute hilt with your cock, your bodies melt—with yours falling on top of her. Your voices intertwine and form a grand symphony of deep cries from the depths of your lungs. Gripping her waist, her pussy pulses and cums, pouring her nectar onto your shaft and to the floor. Staining your legs, keeping you glued together, the bond between you can’t get any closer. 
You feel every bit of Yeojin coming undone. Her eyes are wide shut, jaw slacked and on the sink, her voice gradually tearing itself to shreds. Even as she’s falling from that blissful high, she’s able to mutter two words, her most meaningful ones yet: “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”
And then it’s your turn. 
You follow right after with your own climax, taking a deep breath as you unload every drop of cum onto her pussy. Twitching and aching inside her, your cock sticks inside, unable to pull itself out, wanting to stay in this perfect mixture of warmth and wetness forever. It just feels right. You find it difficult to stop throbbing, even if the only thing left to shoot are blanks.
Subconsciously letting her legs fall back down to earth, you can’t unglue yourself from her. The stickiness is keeping you together, and so is your tired body. Completely drained of all your strength, you press down on her, giving a back hug that also serves as a way to use her as your personal cushion. You stay like this, cuddled up and gasping for air, letting the hours pass you by peacefully undisturbed. Neither of you say a single word, both out of exhaustion and out of respect for the moment. Messy bathroom be damned, this is the most tender and intimate you’ve ever been, and you wish your relationship had taken a different direction than what ended up happening. 
It’s a glimpse into what could have been—and that’s what makes it heartbreaking.
Eventually, you lift yourself off her, severing the connection between you. Your cum pulls apart when you take a step back, surprisingly rigid and firm. Simple tissues won’t fix it. To make matters worse, Yeojin spins around, wrapping her arms around your neck before pulling you down with her for a deep, intimate kiss. It isn’t the very act that’s the issue here; it’s how effortlessly you sink in and reciprocate her feelings. 
Then your conscience reminds you. You feel dirty. You quickly pull back, disgusted—mostly at yourself.
Taking a moment, you both exchange lengthy stares at each other, unsure of what to say. Until—
“What have I done?”
“What I think you have done,” Yeojin says, gleefully, tracing a finger down your wrinkled shirt, marked in sweat and her fingerprints. That sly grin of hers will forever haunt you in your memories. “Is get your girlfriend back.”
—————
It’s too late. 
It’s already half past midnight. The streets are empty. Yeojin’s quietly sits in the passenger seat of your car while soft music plays in the background to fill in the blanks. There’s five missed calls and a dozen texts from Hyunjin asking for your whereabouts, none of which you bother to read. Consequences are the last thing on your mind. Right now, it’s about leaving the girl beside you for good, and that means driving her home.
To be clear, you’re taking her back home—to her place, not yours. Your apartment is the last thing on the list you want ruined tonight as well.
Even after everything, she’s still not satisfied. She unbuckles her seatbelt, activating the ceaseless alarm that assaults your ears. You’re still a fair distance away, and the trains have stopped operating hours ago. You really had no other choice but to drive her.
“Hey. Put your seatbelt on,” you blurt out at the sound of the harness clicking, only shooting a brief glimpse toward her before returning your focus on the road ahead. “What are you—”
She’s back to her old ways. Slithering across the center console and over the gear stick, resting her head on your lap. Feeling extra touchy-feely, her hands rub along the fabric of your jeans, admiring your growing bulge poking through. Yeojin has no regard for personal space; never has, never will.
It comes as no surprise that you struggle to breathe, let alone drive in a straight line. Fortunately, you’re driving along an empty road to crash into anything other than maybe a guardrail or a lamp post. 
“Christ—” You mutter, shifting your lap around to cramp Yeojin, but she follows your path close behind, causing you even more discomfort. “Stop it, Yeojin—”
To your annoyance, she’s unbuckling your pants, sliding them down along with your boxers. With no care or consideration, she runs her tongue across your stiff length, up to your tip. Her hand grips you, pumping you hard, building immeasurable pleasure in your loins. Cramped inside a moving vehicle, getting pleasured in near darkness with a rebellious girl thinking she’s doing you a favor—you’re once again regretting every decision that has lead you to this miserable situation. 
You feel yourself getting dizzy in real time. You can only hold back for so long before you eventually crumble, like you always have. When it comes to Yeojin, she gets what she wants, always at your expense.
“Keep driving,” she commands, licking circles around your tip, against your best wishes. She sounds like she has complete authority over you, really pushing her assertiveness at the worst moment imaginable. Tonight has given you plenty of losses, far too many to count—you won’t let her win another one. 
Your attempt at grabbing her hair comes off as a light head pat, a complement for how good she is with her mouth. Even if that was the intent, she’s still gonna blow you inside this car. Idle minds are the devil’s workshop, and she’s being puppeteered by lust every time you share a ride. No matter the distance or time taken, she’s always getting through your pants, ensuring no journey is complete without leaving the vehicle a dire mess.
If she keeps this up—and she will—she won’t be only one trying to roll on top of you.
Pulling over the side of the road, Yeojin realizes you’ve stopped driving. Opening the door, you lift yourself off the driver’s seat and step outside, leaving her to bounce her head against the warm leather. Taking all the fresh, cool air in, you finally feel relaxed. You hadn’t given yourself a moment to breathe: after your little escapde in the cafe restroom, you were sprinting back to the parking lot, maintaining a low cover, and speeding through the city. The last few hours have been a whirlwind of highs and lows, none of it really sinking in—unless you were to indulge in a few drinks. And it’s still not over—not until you finally bring Yeojin home. 
Based on how obstinate she has been, still laying down on the driver’s seat, she doesn’t want this night to end.
“Get off,” you shout at her, tone grating and sharp. You’re just about to call it quits. If you weren’t so morally conscious, you would have left her behind already.
“Get off? That’s what I was trying to do,” she remarks, sarcastic and facetious. Rolling over to her stomach, swinging her legs back and forth, she’s looking silly, not even trying to hide her smirk. getting a kick out of teasing you. 
You’re deeply caught up in your impatience and frustration to notice she’s baited you into sounding lewd. “Fuck off. After this, we’re done. So fucking done.”
“Are we? That didn’t seem like it when you were fucking me from behind—”
“Get back in the passenger seat,” you interrupt her, having walked from the middle of the highway to the car in an instant, whipping out a roll of duct tape from the glove compartment. You didn’t need to say a word for her to understand the potential threat and subsequently comply. To make sure she doesn’t wrestle control away from you, you ensure it stays of her reach for the rest of the trip.
And thankfully, she doesn’t bother harassing you even once. The idea doesn’t even come to mind. She sits still, as a good girl should.
Fortunately, you were only less than ten minutes away from her house. If the city was quiet, the suburban village where she lives is dead silent. Save for a few streetlights, it appears as though no one else resides here—or are on vacation elsewhere. Most times you’ve spent together, it’s been in the comfort of your apartment.
Hovering over Yeojin’s side, you swing the passenger door open. Even though it’s a long shot, you’re expecting her to get out. The moment she does, your foot will be right on the gas pedal, leaving her behind once and forall. Unsurprisingly, she stares at you instead, seemingly anticipating something—perhaps a kiss, an embrace, a fond farewell.
She gets none of that. You even unbuckle her seatbelt for good measure, telling a lot without saying anything at all.
Yeojin unbuckles your seatbelt, breaking the tension. Unusually, you don’t move a muscle, not slapping her hand away, not even when her finger trails down your hand, reaching for your pants once again. It’s clear she’s bothered by how you’ve left her stockings back at the cafe, leaving her in nothing but an oversized sweater. She’s moving in the opposite direction, shifting past the center console and onto your lap. You freely welcome her—all 4’11 inches of her—into your arms.
Kissing you on the lips, Yeojin slips her hand between your cheeks, her hands sinking down your body and to your pants, sliding them down along with your boxers. The entire time, you’ve left your clothes unbuttoned and readily accessible for her to reach. Gently smiling through the smooch, she rubs her nose against yours, softly giggling, as if to say she’s known about your little secret.
But what’s there to really say?
Effortlessly falling between the cracks, an airy moan departs your lips as Yeojin fills herself with your shaft. Firmly stuck in place with her body pressed all over you, your hands take lease of her clothed back, tired of feeling its wooly fabric. Lifting up her sweater over her head to be tossed aside right after, Yeojin is finally reduced to nothing. 
You gaze down at her bare figure, awestruck. In return, she unbuttons down your shirt, exposing some of your skin, pecking down to your neck and your chest. Her little kisses leave you lightheaded, caressing her short hair in appreciation.
You’re overstaying your welcome; you should be lone gone by now. You are, in fact—just not the way you anticipated.
Propping her over your lap, your relationship with Yeojin works best when your hearts are pounding wildly, screaming each other’s name like it’s the most important thing in the world. Nothing else but the sex matters, like right now. No wonder she often has to coax you into getting reckless, otherwise your conversations would only revolve around constant petty arguments with no clear resolution. It’s because of your how well your bodies complement one another that you’re still tolerating her presence in your lives. 
All it takes is one look at her, riding you like her life depends on it, her cunt effortlessly bouncing on your cock, basking in the sensation of getting impaled over and over again. She’s kissing all over your face, biting on your ear, rocking you like she wants to sweep you off your feet. And it leaves you utterly speechless every single time.
“God—please—give it all to me—fuck me like you mean it—”
And you’re right there with her, matching her pace with every upward stroke. You especially love holding Yeojin like this, cradled in your arms, forcing every inch of your cock deep into her wet pussy, drawing these little whimpers out from her puckery lips. The more she keeps talking—pleading—the greater your motivation. 
Though it overwhelms you—the tensing, the pulsing, the heat—you keep going. Her cunt feels so incredible, you only wished it was on a woman that had a better personality, one that wasn’t making you regret your existence. But you don’t care about that—not when you’re taking control, losing grip to your lust and wanting to overpower her.
It hurts all the more when she sounds perfect, especially when you spin her around and pin her against the steering wheel. Watching her back arch, her ass ripple with each stroke, seemingly trying to outyell the car horn, putting you both on neighborhood watch for noise complaint. Not that there’s anyone around to wake up and alert the authorities when looking at your surroundings, but the desire for shameless attention will always arouse Yeojin. 
You’re the only one who enables this kind of behavior, but you never realized that. That, or she’s looks too good to notice.
You can only focus on reaching that climax again, hammering away at her cunt, watching her shimmy her hips as she grips the steering column, blanketing every lewd sound and profanity with a blast of the klaxon. It’s as if you’re demanding her to scream your name, to proclaim to everyone that she’s yours and yours alone.
“Cum,” you tell her. An instruction to be met. A demand. “Cum all over this fucking cock, slut.”
The rapid change in intensity leaves her in an uncontrollable daze, setting her on fire. Throwing her head back, her body violently quivering in your grasp, she keens. She can’t take it any longer getting used so mercilessly, even when she wants more. “Gonna cum—oh God—so so fucking wet, ah—”
She continues to bounce relentlessly even as the pleasure rips her in half. Of course Yeojin doesn’t give two shits about messing up your carpets; it’s a given that she’ll make you pay for a fresh pair every time you have sex in the car. She cums—and she cums hard. Her slick juices puddle up on your lap, sticking on your skin, splattering on the edge of the leather seat, all while releasing a weak, airy moan that cracks her voice as a result of all that shouting and moaning. 
It’s enough to push you over the edge. The wetness, the smooth noise of skin slapping skin interspliced with her cries of pleasure. Nothing this pornographic should sound like music, but it does.
Yeojin whines a passionate cry when it hits—that rush of cum that fills her womb. Every little drop, you pour onto her needy, aching core. She’s knocked the wind from your sails; you can only utter a hoarse groan of relief, in contrast to the relentless earsplitting noises that have pervaded your ears for the longest time. 
You don’t get the opportunity to take one final look at your handiwork. As soon as the climax ends, the crash follows immediately after, sending your head reeling. Yeojin takes this opportunity to pick her sweater off the carpet floor and put it back on. Hobbling out the passenger door, she leaves you slumped back in the drivers’ seat.
Only now do you realize that her side of the door has been open the entire time.
“It’s been fun,” Yeojin says, evaluating herself at the side-view mirror to ensure she’s not a complete mess. Even though she looksfar beyond saving given how grimy her appearance is. Frazzled hair, soiled sweater drenched in sweat and cum—not to mention she has nothing but her platforms to make up her lower half. Her underwear is lost somewhere beneath the car seats, likely as a memento. “You know, I got a whole boyfriend to go home to and what not—”
“Surely he isn’t waiting for you inside that house, right?” you ask, puzzled by the sudden care for her actual lover. “I mean, I did send him that message—”
“I know you didn’t.” Yeojin grins widely at your response, having seen through the bluff. You never sent anything. It’s a secret worth keeping for yourself. “He’s on vacation, by the way. Thanks for giving me the best night I’ve had in forever.”
“Yeah, and thanks for ruining what was already a terrible one,” you reply, refusing to leave without delivering one last character breaking blow. 
She laughs while walking backwards toward her house, smiling wide. “No problem. Talk to you later?”
Closing the passenger door and starting the engine, you shout back, “Never. Not in a million years.”
“Of course.” Yeojin opens the front door to her house, stepping inside, hiding herself behind the panel except her pretty face. “You know where to find me. Call me anytime.”
—————
(A/N: Well this was unfortunate timing in the worst way imaginable lmao. That's what happens when you get lazy with editing.
Thank you for the commission! I would also like to thank you for giving me carte blanche; first time writing someone Loona and Yeojin has always the boldest one despite being the maknae. Also gonna give this space to link fae's Yeojin fic that she posted earlier for anyone interested in a froggy double feature. Madlad's doing Kinkvember a month after debut, that's insane. Contract news broke out right as I was in the middle of editing and the power went down lmao. Anyway, finals is approaching, so I want to get it sorted before locking in for the final few weeks of the year. Thank you for reading!)
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thepitlanepress · 4 months ago
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I DON'T LIKE IT –
↳ lando norris + bestfriend!reader
⌗ :: masterlist
⌗ :: a/n: im actually in a lando phase (maybe its bc i f1 is gone for months) but its effecting me so much so im blessing you all with JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE LANDOOOO AHHEHE. merry christmas my lovelies <33 (also if this is bad im sorry i was extremely tired when i wrote this lol)
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usually you don't like going out with lando. the clubs, partying, drinking it wasn't exactly your scene.
so when he insists you come out with him to celebrate the constructors championship, you can't exactly say no. hence, the short fitting black dress, and nicely done, hair and makeup that you've put on. when you go out, you go out, it just doesn't happen very often.
"are you nearly done?" lando's voice calls out from the living room as he waits for you.
"yeah, i'm coming now," you call back, walking down the stairs and mentally preparing yourself to talk and interact with people.
you grab the car keys off the small table in the hallway and make your way into the living room your footsteps announcing your presence to lando, he turns around and slightly falters in his movements when he sees you.
"uh, wow, okay," he says looking you up and down slowly, his eyes raking over your body.
"what?" your brows bunch and you look down at your outfit. "i thought it looked good, is there something wrong?"
"uh... no, no, you look amazing, i just wasn't expecting you to look so nic-"
"you weren't expecting me to look nice?" you raise your voice playfully.
"no, no, no i- uh- no- look... shit," lando mutters looking down and shaking his head. "you look amazing, seriously. i just forgot how well you can pull off a black dress."
you smile, and chuck the keys towards him, "i can pull off anything lando norris, even you. and that's not something everybody can do." you wink and walk back out through the hallway to the car.
"you can pull off me?"
"yeah, not every girl can have lando norris on her arm and still be the centre of attention. there are perks to being your best friend you know."
"and there are perks to being yours," lando says unlocking the car and sliding into the drivers seat. you feel the safest when he's driving, always trusting him when he's behind the wheel.
"oh really?" you ask looking over at him. "like what?"
"you," he murmurs backing out of the driveway. you don't hear him though, too distracted by a text you received from your sister.
–––
he didn't like it, you could tell. was it the murderous looks he was sending in the direction of the guy's - who's name you've already forgotten - or was it the looks he was sending you, heated and something else? both probably.
he wasn't even focused on the crowd around him dancing and drinking their nights away.
when the guy started getting too handsy that is when you felt lando's hand wrap around your waist and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach - which you promptly ignored.
"leave her alone, mate. she's mine," lando's voice comes out harsh his anger directed towards the man who steps back apologising - typical of him to only step back when another man steps in.
"oh sorry, i didn't know," he slurs and walks off, most likely to go puke in some poor person's handbag.
you're about to spin around in lando's arms and thank him for rescuing you but you stop short at the expression on his face. "what?" you look down at your outfit. "is it the same thing from earlier? what's wrong?"
"i don't like it."
"don't like what?" you ask furrowing your brows.
"when other people touch you," he responds quietly his voice low and tempting. thats new.
"oh," you reply slightly dumbfounded. in all your years of knowing lando norris you've always had hidden feelings for him, sure there were points when said feelings were buried deep deep down, but they were always there.
and you always thought they were never reciprocated but they way lando is looking at you right now is... something new. something you like... a lot.
"i don't like people thinking they can just touch you. they can't. because you're mine not theirs. you're my best friend. you're my person. you're not theirs to touch or hold or flirt with, because you're mine."
his arms tighten around your waist as if he's expecting you to run away at any moment.
"oh my," you breathe. "i don't know what to say."
"tell me you feel the same way, tell me that i can be yours, because you're mine, and i'm not letting you go anytime soon."
"possessive are we?" you chuckle trying to diffuse the tension because he's probably drunk, he's going to wake up in the morning and apologise about this insisting he doesn't know what he was talking about and how sorry he was.
its happened so many times before.
your heart gets crushed every time. so you don't go out with him to avoid it.
but tonight this feels different.
"i haven't had a sip of alcohol tonight, this is the most clearheaded i've ever been in a long time... please talk to me."
"lando," you whisper. your heart is teetering on the edge of being shattered to pieces and finally telling the truth. you're walking a thin line between the two hoping to fall on the right side. "i don't want this to be like those other times when you wake up in the morning apologising for what you say."
"i never meant those apologies. i remember all those nights, i lied," he breathes swaying with you to the music. "i freaked out in the morning because you would always want to talk about what happened, and your face was always so distrusting so i shut it down pretending i didn't know what happened."
"really?" you're tilting on the line, swaying from side to side waiting for the words that are going to make or break you.
"really. i've been in love with you ever since the day you stopped to pick a flower that reminded you of me."
"lando," you give him a look. "that was like the second time we met."
"and i've been yours ever since." he smiles at you, his eyes filled with clear adoration, which quickly turns to a pissed off look when someone steps up behind you and asks for a dance. "piss off mate, we're clearly talking."
you smile and don't even bother to look back at the man, everything you've ever wanted is standing in front of you and offering himself on a platter for you. and you're tired, so tired of staying on the ledge between friends and more,
so you take the leap.
pulling him imperceptibly closer you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly whispering in his ear, "i'm yours too."
you can physically feel his body relax and mold around yours - a perfect fit of course.
if you fall, it will hurt for sure, but this moment, right now; flying with him, together, will be worth it if you do.
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2024 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works
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ghostlyferrettarot · 4 months ago
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🎀Pick a Picture:✧˚.🎀༘⋆A glimpse into your near future✧˚.🎀༘⋆
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•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!
🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧
🌸If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🌸
🎀Masterlist🎀
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🍎 Pile 1: The Chariot, 6 of Wands and 8 of Wands.
Hi pile 1! The near future is full of movement, and once you take the reins of your destiny, there will be no turning back. I see your energy coming into contact with new ones, for some reason I feel that some of you will receive a promotion or a manifestation that you have long awaited will come true, but it is not just about waiting for things to happen; it is about making decisions with confidence, about putting your energy in motion towards a goal that has been waiting for you. You may be tempted to stay where you are, to wait for one more sign, but this is the push you needed, the time is now.
However, remember balance. Don't be carried away by impulsiveness; keep your emotions in check to not fall into the temptation of acting only on instinct. The success that awaits you will be achieved only if you have control over yourself and over the circumstances. You have the inner strength to move forward, you just need to trust in your ability to guide you. The energy is in your favor, but discipline is essential!
🍎 Advice: If you have been in doubt about a project or an important decision, this is the time to move forward with your ideas. You have the power to move forward, but make sure you are clear about your goal.
🍎Song:
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🩷Pile 2: Death, 4 of Cups and 2 of Pentacles.
Hi pile 2! The near future brings a cycle of closure, of necessary closure that will make room for something much bigger. You are likely leaving behind a phase of your life that no longer serves you, whether in relationships, work, or limiting beliefs. This change may seem painful or scary at first, but it is a necessity for your evolution.
Embrace this process without fear, "only when something dies, can it be reborn" . The changes that are to come can transform your life in ways that you cannot imagine right now. Perhaps not everything will be easy, but what is to come will be much more aligned with what your soul needs. It will take you to the place you need to be and you will meet the right people for you <3
🩷 Advice: Don't hold on to what is happening. Although the closing of this cycle may feel uncertain, remember that the future has something much brighter for you. Open your mind and heart to the new.
🩷Song:
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📘Pile 3: The Sun, 9 of Cups and 10 of Pentacles.
Hi pile 3! I see a future full of optimism, joy and clarity. If lately you have been feeling that things were not moving forward or that something was blocking you, the Sun is here to show that the shadows will not last forever. Something wonderful is about to arrive, and all you need to do is allow the light to enter your life. This is a time of rebirth, of starting over with a new perspective, allow yourself to welcome good changes and new starts!
To make this process faster there are past wounds, resentments or doubts that could be blocking this light from shining completely in your life. The future is waiting for you with open arms, but to welcome the new, you need to let go of the old. Only when you do, you will be able to welcome the clarity and happiness that is to come.
📘 Advice: Enjoy the small moments and stop being afraid of happiness. You are about to experience a rebirth. Believe in your power to create a new life. The light is coming.
📘Song:
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✧˚.🎀༘⋆Thanks for reading and let me know if it resonated!✧˚.🎀༘⋆
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