#they deserve loves and kisses not drunken cuts

[bcystar]

— NO NEED TO BE DRUNK

it was never about how drunk you were

pt.2 to stay for breakfast but can be read as a standalone

pairing: Joaquín x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

authors note: wrote basically the entire thing in one whole night…domestic Joaquín save me 💔💔 also I need to start posting in a timely manner…why is it midnight right now 😞😞 LAST THING don’t mind the format change, I write and edit on my notes app THEN copy and paste onto here and I js got too lazy to make the font smaller and space it out 💀💀

You wake up to warm rays of Sunlight kissing your face and a heavy arm holding you close. You bask in the comfort of the situation, disregarding the pounding in your head. The last thing you remembered from your night out was asking Joaquín to stay the night, remembering you’d promised him breakfast. You slip his muscular arm off your body and slither out of bed. As you stretch, you notice the pills and water on your night stand. “Joaquín you old softy.” You grin to yourself as you gulp down the pills.

You’re flipping the last pancake when the sound of the floor creaking makes you look up from your stove.

“Rise and shine sleepy bird.”

“Good morning to you too, Angel.”

He inches closer to where you stand at the stove, leaning next to you. That’s when you take a look at him. His hair is disheveled, his face is lightly puffy (making him look sooo much cuter), and…he’s…shirtless..? You can’t help but glance down his body. His abs may be attractive but it’s his moles that really grab your attention. They looked like mini chocolate chips on his tan skin…

“Angel, the pancake is burning.” Joaquín takes the flipper from your hand and flips the pancake himself.

“Don’t worry I’ll take that one…�� he notices you’re still staring “…you okay..?”

“Huh? Oh uh yeah. My head is killing me.” You rub your forehead.

“Well you quite an eventful night, and also, you did not have to make all this food.” He takes the mildly burnt pancake and plops it on a plate.

He slides your plate to you after adding all the toppings you loved. “C’mere, Angel.” He beckons you over with his arms wide open.

You melt in his strong hold, his scent filling your nose, you almost never want to pull away. He rubs his hand over your back in a circular motion while the other holds your waist tight. Your mind stops all the noise and commotion and falls silent in his touch. He creeps his hand up into your scalp and scratches the back of your head softly. You breathe out a sigh into the crook of his neck and he giggles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just ticklish.”

“Just your neck or anywhere else?” You two are now bobbing side to side softly to the tune of only your affection.

“Nowhere you need to know nosey pants.”

His hand stays massaging your head as you bury your head back onto him. This all felt so…perfect. The sunny morning, yummy breakfast, your crush holding you, maybe you were still under your drunken dream. You slide your arms from your side to his waist. He flinches away at your touch fully giggling now.

“Oh my god! How ticklish are you?!” You laugh out.

“I told you! Now c’mon, breakfast is getting cold.”

He pulls a chair out and looks at you. You struggle to dilute your smile as you walk back over to him. Once you’re sat comfortably in your seat, he brings over your plates from the counter and over to the dinner table. Once sat, he looks at you, waiting for you.

“What.”

“Nothing, just waiting for you to eat first.”

You chuckle “Why?”

“I mean…you cooked it all, you deserve first bites.”

You just smile at him as you eat a piece of your pancake. Once you take the first bite, Joaquín digs in like he’s never been fed before. He barely chews his food, basically just inhaling it. You can only sit bewildered as you eat. “Sam not feed you or something?” You joke, cutting the last bits of your first pancake.

“Not food this good. It’s all granola bars and sad salads. Sometimes, Bucky will bring him lunch and he’ll tell me to take some but…” all he has left is the last piece of bacon “…it’s all even more depressing forties food.” You let out an amused laugh.

He looks at you so happily. He’d made you giggle and whatnot before but never laugh this hard. He’s basically beaming at this point and starts to laugh with you. The laughter only dies down when you transition back to eating your breakfast and silence falls on the two of you. You don’t mind though, you’re both thinking, maybe about the same things, maybe not. You can’t stop thinking about his touch. So gentle yet so firm. The way he comforted you without even having to be asked. God he’d be such a perfect boyfriend.

Joaquín on the other hand was still thinking about your laugh. Your eyes squinting into cute little crescents and your bright smile emitting light from how bright it was. The sound of your laugh, he would listen to it all day if he could. Without even realizing it, you’re both staring at each other. It’s almost as if time froze, you both basically have heart eyes beating out of your eye sockets for each other. It’s the sound of a grating squeaking that snaps you two back to Earth. You’d sliced through your pancake and were basically about to slice through your plate. You two can’t help but laugh again at the whole situation.

“You know what? I was full anyway.” You stand and throw your scraps into the trash.

Only when you stand before the sink Joaquín stops you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You at him and then the sink full of dishes “…the dishes…?”

“Not after you cooked it too.”

“No that’s exactly why actually, also you’re my guest, it’s my job.”

“No it’s fine, I’m basically here every weekend anyway. If anything, I’m a regular.”

“Okay how about we compromise hm? You wash and I’ll dry? Sound like a fair trade, cutie?”

It takes a few seconds for him to reply “Fine.”

You two work together like a machine. He scrubs and rinses, you dry and stow. The air is filled with the hiss of the sink and the squeak coming from the towel on the plate.

“Hey thanks for taking care of me last night, I know I can be a difficult drunk.” You break the silence after putting away the last pan.

“Ah it was no big deal, plus you’re kind of cute when you’re drunk.”

“I didn’t talk about any conspiracy theories did I?”

“He’s totally like watching over us from the Moon!” He mocks your voice.

You can’t do anything but slap his shoulder and act annoyed. It’s him grabbing your arms and wrapping them around his neck that makes you break your act. His arms hug your waist tight and he seems as surprised that he did this as you are. “You know…it uh…it kind of felt like a…d…date…” you just stare at him, dumbfounded. “…in a sense…not just last night but…also now…?” The last part felt more like a question than a statement.

“What are you getting at Joaquín?”

“Do you wanna date?”

Your eyes widen.

“No no like go on a date. We can date after! Or after a few dates! Or not at all! I don’t know, it’s all really up to yo-“

Only when you press your lips against his does he stop talking. It’s not a long kiss, just enough to serve the both of you for now. You pull away and his face goes towards yours like a magnet. Now it was your turn to slightly scratched back of his head.

“Yes Joaquín, I’ll go on a date with you. We can only talk about the actual dating part if you can take me to some really fun dates though.” You smile.

“I can do that.” Then he crashes his lips to yours.

Now it’s deeper, more intimate. He lowers his left hand lower down your back and his right hand higher up. He feels your embrace so warm and soft against him, he needs to be closer. He pushes you further against him, deepening the kiss. You respond by grabbing a handful of his hair and gently tugging at his soft curls. He groans against your lips and you can feel your pulse quickening. It’s only when you start to lose your breath you pull away. He reluctantly pulls back too and has the cutest hazy look on his face.

“I should get drunk more often so you can always kiss me like this.”

“Trust me, Angel. You never needed to be drunk for me to kiss you.”

You giggled and pulled him into a hug.

You should’ve done this way earlier.

[patheticdarling]

Her Sacrifice

Summary: The assassins had no such luck finding Prince Aemond but what were they to do when they stumbled upon the beloved wife of King Aegon instead? Her belly swollen with his heir.

Warnings: Blood & Cheese/murder/gore & blood/cursing/threats/blades/pregnancy/kidnapping/funeral/incest (reader is helaena's older twin)

Word Count: 2236

"The other lords will be accompanying me for a drink in the Throne Room. Shall you join us, Wife?" Aegon asked, a slightly eager smile on his face, anticipating your agreement.

You sighed as you began to undo the braids in your hair, "The hour is late, Husband. I must rest."

Aegon pouted, "Just a cup! We've attended to our royal duties all day, have we not earned a bit of respite?"

"Respite is what I shall get with a good night's sleep. Not drinking until sunrise with you and your comrades," you teased. You stood from seat at your vanity, walking over and placing Aegon's hand on your growing bump, "Besides, do you not wish for our babe to be born healthy? So that they may grow into formidable dragon riders like their parents."

He smiled softly at your belly before kissing it sweetly, "You make a good point, my dear. Mayhaps I should stay in with you."

You shook your head, smiling down at him, "Do not let me stop your fun. You are right. The King deserves his respite. Besides there may not be many more nights where we get to enjoy ourselves," motioning to your bump.

"You are going to make a wonderful mother," Aegon stood from his seat, "I shall allow you to enjoy your last moments of rest then." He planted a soft kiss on your lips, "I love you, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "I love you, Aegon."

Aegon kissed you once more before giving your belly a playful squeeze and disappearing from your chambers. You summoned one of your ladies to help you finish getting ready for bed. Thanking her as you got yourself comfortable between the silk sheets of you and Aegon's bed. Finally bidding her good night as she blew out most of the candles, leaving a few on for Aegon's drunken return.

You could not be sure of the hour when you heard your chamber doors creak open followed by the shuffling of feet. You did not even bother opening your eyes, assuming you'd feel the bed indent as Aegon stumbled towards it.

"Back so soon?" you teased, "I was only being half serious about the sunset-"

Suddenly, a large hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes shot open as two men loomed over you. You screamed and panicked as the larger man used his other arm to keep you pinned to the bed.

"Quiet!" the smaller man pulled a blade out, pressing it to your throat, "Unless you want me to bleed you like a pig."

You nodded, terrified of what these men could do, "W-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Its not our wants you should be concerned with, Your Grace."

"Who sent you? What do y-you want from me?" your voice shook.

"A life is owed. It wasn't supposed to be you. A son for a son we were told," the smaller man shrugged, "But it seems Prince Aemond isn't in the castle tonight."

Of course, you thought. This was about Lucerys. Your younger brother had taken the boy's life and that was a deed that could not go unpunished. You knew how deeply your eldest sister loved all of her children. The loss of one would be devastating. Taking Aemond's life made sense. But taking yours? And the life of your unborn child? That was not in Rhaenyra's nature. This was plotted by someone far more sinister and dark.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" you spoke up. They both sent stares to the other, "Daemon Targaryen. He sent you to kill one of us."

The large man scoffed, "Aren't you a smart one?"

"Shame those smarts won't do you any good now, will they?" the smaller one mocked.

"Please," you tried to beg, "Do not do this. No good will-" The large hand came down on your mouth again.

"That's enough," he grunted before turning back to the smaller man, "I'll hold her down and you cut."

Your blood ran cold at his words. Not only were they going to kill you but they were going to tortuously cut out your unborn child. They both yanked you further down the bed until you were flat on your back. You tried to kick, scream, bite, thrash as much as you could but the man proved to have almost inhuman strength. The smaller man raised his blade, that same sadistic grin plastered on his face before he began to dig it into the lower part of your abdomen.

White hot pain seared through your body as he continued to slice into you. Your vision was blurred with tears and you could have sworn your throat was raw from your cries. Though the pain was so intense that you could not process the sounds that might have been leaving you. Warm blood pooled all around you, the once ivory sheets now a deep crimson. One last gasp left you as they pulled your child from your body.

Suddenly you had remembered your mother telling you about the pains of childbirth when you first married Aegon and all anyone could talk about was you producing his heirs. She had a rather negative approach that utterly terrified you. So, you decided to find comfort in Rhaenyra's advice instead.

"I will not withhold the truth from you, it truly is the most excruciating pain a woman must go through."

You groaned, "That is not what I had wished to hear, Sister."

"You did not let me finish. The process is hard, yes. And you will feel the urge to curse the Gods or even your husband and swear to never bear anymore children," you both laughed, "But the moment you hear those sweet cries and your babe is placed upon your chest, the pain is forgotten. And nothing has ever seemed so worth it. Then you will know, right then and there, that you would do it all over again if it meant you could finally find that purest form of love."

And yet, you would never discover that beautiful feeling your sister had painted so clearly. The room was almost eerily silent besides the dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

"What do you know?" the man panted as he held your lifeless infant, "A son. Congratulations, my Queen."

You could not speak as you felt your body numb itself. Tears falling with no cries as they stuffed your son's body into a sack. It was as if you could feel your heart shatter. The men finished their sinister act before fleeing through a secret passageway. You tried little to fight the heaviness in your eyes. Perhaps this was all a horrible dream and if you shut your eyes, you'd open them to find yourself in bed with Aegon's arms wrapped securely around your belly. The last thing you could muster was a small smile at the sentimental image as your vision faded out completely.

"Sister?" Helaena called out into your bed chamber, "I did not wish to wake you but Aegon is being so loud and I cannot sleep with him-" Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of your mangled body lying on the bed. Your figure lifeless and your eyes vacant as you stared at the canopy. She approached your body, a shaky hand reaching out to touch your face to be met with utter stillness. Helaena backed out of the room slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks before sprinting to find some sort of help. As if anyone could undo what had already been done.

"I-I don't know what happened. I came in and she...she was..." Helaena's voice cracked with sobs as various people filed into the royal bed chamber; the Kingsguard, the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and lastly, your husband.

They all stopped at the sight before them, their eyes welling with tears and their stomachs churning. The Dowager Queen let out a heavy sob as all their attention turned to the King. Aegon approached your body cautiously.

He fell to his knees, his hands cradling your bloodied face as he sobbed, "My wife, my dearest-"

Nobody dared say a word as Aegon mourned over you. His sobs heavy with grief as he called out your name over and over again. The Queen Mother clutching Helaena's arm as they cried with him. The Kingsguard hanging their heads low in shame at their failure to protect their Queen. Otto Hightower, known to be quick with his word, said nothing.

The council meeting that followed was one full of dread and grief. Most of the council mourned, the Hand schemed, and the King could do not but curse the Gods and swear revenge.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of the funeral arrangements for the Queen-"

"No," Aegon was quick to stop the Hand, who raised a brow at his grandson's denial, "I will not have my wife's body dragged through the streets like a dog!"

"Not dragged, honored!" Otto corrected him before lowering his tone as he spoke to the King, "Y/N was my granddaughter and I loved her. She deserves the funeral of a Targaryen princess, a Targaryen queen. The small folk wish to mourn their Queen and the heir she carried. And they need to know who is responsible for this."

Aegon's face twisted in disbelief, "How could they not already know?! Who else would do this save the bitch queen of bastards?!"

"We must know for certain, Your Grace," Lord Jasper suggested, "If it was not your sister, this may prove to be an even bigger threat to the crown, to you, my King."

Aegon scoffed, "I do not care what threatens me. My wife is dead. And my child," he stifled a sob, "That cunt did this, I know it. Her and her kingdom of traitorous bastards will burn for it."

Before anyone could speak, the doors of the council chamber opened as Lord Larys entered. He bowed meekly as all eyes turned to him.

"My lords, Your Grace," he greeted the council.

All stood still, "State your purpose, Lord Larys," the Hand spoke.

"We have apprehended one of the assailants. A gold cloak, known for his brutal nature. The guards caught him fleeing the Gate of Gods. He carried the child's body in a sack."

The King hardly wasted any time, stomping over to the doors, "I shall kill him myself."

"We might retrieve further information about who is to blame for this tragedy after questioning," Ser Criston stopped Aegon from leaving as Otto spoke, "I trust in your skill set, Lord Larys."

The Strong Lord bowed before exiting the room. All eyes turned once again to the King and his Hand.

"We will hold the service for both the child and mother-"

"I said no," Aegon grunted, "My wife and child will not be put on display for the Realm."

"Your Grace, we might use this to our advantage in the war you wish to march into. Your people need to know the depravity that Rhaenyra is capable of. The great houses of Westeros will see that she is not fit to rule given her cruel nature. They will flock to your side and with them, their armies and bannermen."

Aegon continued to shake his head. He could not just let them see you or your child like that. They did not deserve it.

"Mother," he turned to the Dowager Queen for support.

Alicent approached Aegon's chair, "The Hand sets on a difficult path, my darling, but it might be the right one."

The King could not muster anymore fight, "Have the Silent Sisters prepare the Queen and child for their journey. Behind them will be Princess Helaena and the Queen Mother."

"No, I do not wish to be a spectacle," Alicent argued but her father would not hear it.

Your husband visited your body as the Silent Sisters began to prepare it. They had cleaned the mess and dressed you in one of your favorite dresses, the emerald color complimenting your skin and hair.

"Your Grace, it is ill-fated to look upon the face of death," Maester Orwyle warned.

"That is not the face of death, Maester. That is my wife," Aegon spoke, "Leave me with her."

Maester Orwyle and the Silent Sisters bowed before leaving the King with your body. He softly stroked the hair from your face as he broke into sobs once again.

"I am so sorry, my love," he cried, "I-I should have been there to protect you. And our son." Maester Orwyle had informed His Grace that the child you carried was a prince, a perfect heir, "You truly would have been the most wonderful mother. You were already a perfect wife and Queen. Motherhood would have come naturally."

Aegon recounted how well you did with Rhaenyra's last two babies, the ones she had with his uncle Daemon. As much as he did not care for his half-sister, he knew you did. Always quick to defend her, even against your own family. So, he was forced to ask himself, how could she do this to you? To your child?

"They will pay for what they have done," your husband muttered to you, "I will win this war. I will win it for our child. I will win it for you. With fire and blood. Your sacrifice will not be for naught, my Queen."

[flwrstqr]

( 日语 ) : YOUNG & BEAUTIFUL ୨୧ RICHBOY ENHYPEN

── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿.

‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ them being bad down for you, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】

다니 : i know i haven't been active recently TT,, but richboy enhypen has been killing me.. i needed to write one > < esp i watched gilmore girls again HAHA

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 he leans lazily against his sleek black sports car, designer suit jacket slung over his shoulder, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he watches you approach. “took you long enough, princess,” he drawls, his voice dripping with charm, every word deliberate, meant to fluster. he gestures to the car behind him. “thought i’d save you from walking. can’t have you scuffing those pretty shoes, now, can we?” he tilts his head, a strand of his perfectly styled hair falling into his eyes, and you swear he does it on purpose. “don’t look so surprised, sweetheart. i told you, anything you want, it’s yours. the car? the view? me?” his smirk deepens, and you can’t tell if it’s confidence or desperation, but the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing that matters—makes your heart race. “so, what’ll it be?”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 “you like that one, angel?” jay’s smooth voice cuts through your thoughts as you admire the dress on display, your fingers brushing over the delicate fabric. you glance at him, shaking your head quickly. “it’s pretty, but i have something like it at home—” you don’t even finish before he’s already signaling for the sales associate. “wrap this one up, and the matching shoes, too.” your eyes widen, and you grab his arm. “jay, no, i don’t need it—” he turns to you, one brow raised, a small smirk playing on his lips. “need? baby, you don’t need it. you deserve it.” he leans closer, his cologne making your head spin, and whispers, “actually, let’s not stop there. pick out anything else you like. or better yet,” he gestures to the store, “we’ll just take it all. you’re too gorgeous to settle for less.”

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 “you’re staring again, babe,” jake teases, his golden smile practically lighting up the entire party. he leans casually against the marble counter, holding a glass of champagne like it’s an accessory to his already-perfect outfit. “don’t flatter yourself,” you retort, rolling your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. he takes a slow step closer, his cologne wrapping around you like a second skin. “oh, but i live for your attention,” he quips, tilting his head. “besides, how could i not show off when i’ve got the most beautiful person here by my side?” he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours effortlessly, and leans in. “admit it,” he murmurs, his smirk growing, “you love when i’m like this. don’t you, sweetheart?”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon leans casually against the pool table, his sharp jawline accentuated by the dim lighting. "alright, angel," he smirks, the cue stick spinning lazily in his hands, "if i sink this eight ball, you owe me a kiss." your cheeks burn at the audacity, but before you can retort, he turns to his opponent, tossing a crisp stack of bills onto the table. "and for you? $500 says i win this." the room buzzes with drunken hollers, his confidence drawing all eyes. "don’t look so nervous, baby," he teases, voice low enough to make your knees weak, "just be ready for that kiss." and when the eight ball rolls into the pocket with precision, his victorious grin makes your heart do flips. "told you, sweetheart."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “i knew this color would look perfect on you,” sunoo murmurs, his voice soft but teasing as he stands behind you, the silky fabric of the dress brushing against your skin. his fingers, cool and delicate, find the zipper, and he pulls it up slowly. your reflection in the mirror catches his gaze, his eyes sparkling with pride as he admires his choice on you. “see? you’re a masterpiece, angel,” he coos, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hands lightly grazing your waist to adjust the fabric. “now, let’s go turn some heads,” he grins,spinning you around. “but remember, i’ll be the only one staring.”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚��𝗢𝗡 "careful, darling," jungwon drawls, his designer watch glinting under the dim chandelier light. you stumble slightly on the marble floor of his sprawling estate, your hand instinctively clutching his crisp white shirt. his lips curve into a knowing smirk. "getting lost already? my fault, i suppose. i should’ve warned you about the size of the place." his fingers graze your waist. you glare playfully, swatting his chest. "maybe don’t design your house like a maze." he chuckles, a low, velvety sound that makes your heart flutter, before leaning in, his breath warm against your ear. "i could give you a tour, love. or," his gaze locks with yours, "we could just stay here… i’m rather enjoying having you all to myself."

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "come on, i knew you missed me, baby," riki teases, his grin illuminated by the soft glow of his car’s dashboard as you slip into the passenger seat of his absurdly expensive sports car. his messy hair falls over his eyes, the smirk on his lips entirely too confident as you cross your arms and glare at him. you roll your eyes, tugging your hoodie tighter as the cool 3 a.m. air nips at your skin. “shut up,” you mutter. “kiss me to shut me up, then,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. "i hate you," you hiss, but it’s weak, and he knows it. he chuckles softly. “and i love you, princess,” he murmurs. 

[simpjaes]

insane thought but…. (random too)

imagine you’re saying goodbye to everyone after a party/meetup or anything of that sort with jake and he’s DRUNKKK like you can smell the alcohol from miles away, and he’s kinda leaning into you for support, and he’s so drunk to the point he’s voicing his thoughts about getting back home.. IFYKWIM🙂‍↕️

(sigh i love my brain sometimes)

-💌

content: you're best friend's with jake and learn how bad he's wanted between those thighs all these years. also, this has fluff, drunken confessions, desperate pining. uh...mentions of him jerking off next to you when you're sleeping.

not proof read.

It's tomorrow, and everyone seems so excited for you. Jake can't help but feel a little broken inside either, with the way your eyes light up at each person smooching your face with a wet and messy "goodbye."

It's not fair that you're just going to leave him like this. Not before he got his chance anyway...

It's his own fault, sure. Maybe he should've taken his chance last summer when you very much looked like you were about to kiss him. Why did he turn his head solely because he was nervous about it?

Or maybe, he should have taken the chance when your last ex broke up with you. The way you leaned on him, clinging to his sweater with hot tears in your eyes. You looked so pretty despite being so hurt, he wanted nothing more than to kiss away all those bad feelings and show you that the guy was nothing but a practice run for a real relationship. He was just a guy to help you raise your standards, even.

Or, maybe he should have taken his chance last night when he was sleeping in your bedroom one last time. In your bed like always, you had cuddled up to him as you fell asleep, pillow talk turning far more intimate than he thought it ever would. "You should come with me." You had mumbled. "I'll feel empty without you." You trailed off after that.

He chose to believe you were just sleep talking. Despite knowing you well enough to understand that you've never fucking sleep talked.

So, that leaves him here. Understanding that he missed every single fucking chance intentionally. And now, he's not even sober enough to approach you in a way that would even matter.

Except it does matter.

A lot.You were leaning against a window with your friends, relishing in the vibes of your "goodbye" party one last time when you glance to your best friend.

Never before have you seen the look on his face. He looks...determined? Angry? sad? You're not sure. You make note in your sobering mind to give him a longer, more loving goodbye than anyone else. He deserve it after all.

And after you do those goodbyes, knowing that the party will likely continue long after you're gone, you make your way to Jake.

He's far more drunk than you've ever seen him too. Cheeks dusted with reds and pinks, ears burning hot, even his hair is sticking to his forehead as he looks at you. He can barely even stand when you reach him.

You're quick to place your hands on his arms, helping him stand up straight when you go to speak, but you're cut off immediately.

"You can't go," He says, stumbling into you and holding you tightly against him. His alcohol breath is strong and hot against your cheek, but you're not sure how to respond. "You can't. I haven't even-"

You pause, trying to pry yourself from his grip and trying to ignore all the eyes on you, but he doesn't let you do either.

"I don't care who knows, I only cared if you knew." He slurs, holding you tighter. "I don't understand how you don't."

You successfully push away from him this time, looking at him both in pity and out of confusion.

"What don't I know?"

"I want you so bad right now.." Jake breathes. "Come home with me."

You feel your breath catch in your throat at those words. Truly, you stop breathing for a moment as you look at him. He stares back, blinking out of sync but still hopeful, looking at you in a way you've never noticed before now.

"Huh?" You retort, thinking you must have heard him wrong.

"Feel." He says, grapping your hand and pressing it between his legs, allowing not only you, but anyone who is watching to witness the proof of his words. "I need you."

You yank your hand back, mostly out of embarrassment, feeling a bit vulnerable in this situation.

"Come home with me." Jake mumbles again, now starting to hiccup.

Right, he's just drunk.

"Come on, I'll get you home." You finally say, sighing.

Did you get your hopes up a little bit?

Maybe. But he's clearly out of his fucking mind right now, and it really is probably for the best that you take him home and make sure he's all tucked in with water and a pain reliever.

And you do try. Letting him wobble his legs and balance against you as you walk him out. Whispering to you the whole way. He goes from being cheeky to almost...sad. Pleading, even.

"Need you so bad,"

"I can't keep pretending like I don't"

"You want me too, right?"

"Right? You've thought about it? About me?"

And when you continue to avoid his questions, he falls silent for a moment. Now outside, being put into your car.

You hear him briefly before you close the door.

"I'd make it feel so good, i promise."

Goddamn him for being so fucking drunk. Some people say that when you're drunk, your words are sober but you find that incredibly hard to believe right now. After all, you've tried to lay down hints for Jake. You moved on, not wanting to keep feeling rejected. And now...this?

By the time you place yourself in the driver's seat, that short moment of silence away from him did little to help.

"Please, tell me you've imagined it.""It's not just me, right?"And he keeps going. A loop of the same questions before...

"Yes! Jake! I've thought about it! A lot, actually. Now can you please stop talking? You're too drunk right now and it's starting to fuck with my head."And for a moment, you thought he'd listen to you. Just a moment, really. He throws out another question now, letting it linger in the air, forcing you to slam on your breaks in the middle of an empty street just to stare at him.

"Did you touch yourself?"You narrow your eyes at him, unable to see too much in the light of the moon but you can tell that same hopeful look is welling up in his eyes.

"Did you?" You breath out, questioning him back.

"Fuck," Jake breathes a half moan at your face alone right now, awestruck by how the night shades your face so beautifully. "All the time..." He sighs now, smiling as if he's remembering each session he's fucked his fist to you as a fond memory.

You eye his figure down for a moment before you manage to start driving again, thinking hard about if he's being truthful, or just horny.

"For how long?" You ask.

"How long what?"You roll your eyes at his hiccups, rewording your question for him.

"How long have you, you know, masturbated to me?"

"Years." He says it like a period on a sentence. As if he's answered the question millions of times and to be honest? It's making your brain spin with emotion.

"When was the last time?" You pry now, rubbing your legs together.

"This morning."

Pause, you hold back a small groan knowing Jake was in your bed with you all morning. Honestly, he didn't even move.

He notes your silence, but also notes your lack of discomfort too.

"You were asleep, I've learned how to be quiet over the years..." He mumbles, only now realizing how weird it actually is.

"Jake..." You carefully whisper. "Why are you doing this to me, knowing I'm moving away?"

His voice rings once more.

"Because maybe you won't, if you let me try."

[hazelira]

more than 143

The smell of garlic and slow-cooked meat lingered in the dimly lit dining room, starkly contrasting the suffocating silence that always seemed to follow Heeseung wherever he went. He sat at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense as he cut into the meal you had prepared for him. His cold, hardened expression never wavered, even as he took careful bites of the food. You were always cooking for him, always waiting for him—even when he never asked you to.

You stood behind him, unsteady on your feet, the warmth of the wine from your friend’s suite still buzzing in your veins. It made you bold—bolder than you usually were around him. Heeseung wasn’t the kind of man who liked to be touched unless it was out of necessity. But tonight, you couldn’t help yourself.

Your arms wrapped around his strong frame from behind, and he immediately stiffened under your touch. His fork clattered against the porcelain plate as you nuzzled into him, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

“You’re so warm,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection and drunken haze. You toyed with the strands of his dark hair, twirling them around your fingers like you had all the time in the world. “I love you so much, Hee… more than anything.”

His entire body locked up at your words. You could feel his muscles coiling like he was preparing to snap like he always did when you got too close. Heeseung was cruel and distant—he never let you in, never gave you more than silence and sharp glares.

You braced for his usual cold dismissal and the venom in his words when he told you to go to bed and stop acting like a fool. But it never came.

Heeseung didn’t say a word.

Maybe it was because you were drunk. Perhaps it was because he knew you wouldn’t even remember this moment by morning. Or maybe, just perhaps, he was too tired to fight tonight.

So he let you stay.

You pressed your lips against his jaw again, whispering between kisses, “Even if you’re always mean to me… even if you never say it back… I still love you, Heeseung. No matter what.”

He let out a slow, measured breath but didn’t push you away. Your grip around him tightened, and that’s when he felt it—the faint tremor in your body, the wetness of your tears staining his skin.

His hands curled into fists on the table.

He knew what this was about.

Tomorrow, he’d be gone. Off on another mission, off to do the things he never let you see that kept his hands permanently stained with blood.

You wouldn’t get to see him after tonight.

And that was killing you.

Your lips brushed against his temple this time, softer than anything he deserved. “I’ll miss you,” you whispered brokenly. “I always do.”

His throat tightened. Heeseung was a lot of things—ruthless, detached, unfeeling. But at this moment, as he felt your love spilling over him like a wound that refused to close, he wasn’t sure if he could handle this.

Because deep down, even if he’d never admit it, he knew he’d miss you too.

Your body grew heavier, the weight of exhaustion and alcohol pressing into you as you slumped against Heeseung. Your arms went slack around his waist, but before you could slip away, his large hands caught you—strong, firm, steady.

Then, in a moment that neither of you could fully grasp, you lifted your head, your half-lidded eyes searching for something in his face. Something that had never been there before.

And then you kissed him.

Soft. Warm. Desperate.

Your lips moulded against his like it was second nature, like you’d done this a million times before—even though you hadn’t. Because Heeseung never let you.

You expected him to recoil, shove you away, and remind you of the invisible line he had drawn between you long ago. But he didn’t.

Instead, Heeseung kissed you back.

His lips moved against yours—hesitant at first, testing, unsure. But when you whimpered against him, pressing closer as if trying to memorize the shape of him before he disappeared again, something inside him snapped.

His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss. His other hand gripped your waist, holding you in place against him. You tasted of wine and something bittersweet, something that made his chest ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

You clung to him, your breath mingling with his, your body moulding against his as though you were made to fit there.

“Hee…” you murmured between kisses, your words slurred but full of raw emotion. “I don’t care what you do… or where you go… just come back to me. Please.”

His fingers curled into your waist, tightening at your plea.

You didn’t ask him where he went at night. You didn’t ask why his hands were always bruised, why his shirts smelled faintly of gunpowder and something darker. You didn’t ask why he never looked at you the way a husband should look at his wife.

You only asked him to come back.

And for some reason, that made it worse.

You let out a soft sigh against his lips, and then, just like that, your body gave out ultimately.

Heeseung caught you before you could fall, his grip firm but careful as he cradled you against his chest. Your breathing slowed, your face relaxed, and he realized—you were asleep.

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he studied your tear-streaked face. His thumb instinctively brushed your cheekbone, wiping away your sorrow's remnants.

He should’ve stopped you earlier. He should’ve never let you get this close.

But now that he had…

Now that your warmth was imprinted on him, now that your taste lingered on his lips…

He wasn’t sure he could ever let you go.

Heeseung sat at the edge of the bed, staring at your sleeping form. You looked so small, curled up against the pillows, your face still damp from the tears you had shed against him. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles over the back of your hand, his mind a storm of conflicting thoughts.

He needed to leave soon. His men were waiting, and the mission was set. It wasn’t the first time he had left in the dead of night, slipping away before you could wake up and beg him to stay. But tonight felt different.

Tonight, you kissed him.

Tonight, you had told him—drunkenly, but no less sincerely—that you loved him, no matter what.

And tonight, for the first time, Heeseung felt afraid to leave you behind.

You had always been strong, or at least, you pretended to be. You never questioned him, never pried into the things he did. But he saw how your hands trembled when he came home late, and you always checked the locks twice when he wasn’t around.

You never told him, but he knew.

You didn’t feel safe when he wasn’t here.

And now, as you slept, your fingers were still curled loosely around his, as if even in unconsciousness, you were trying to hold onto him just a little longer.

Heeseung clenched his jaw.

He was a monster. A man who had long since abandoned the luxury of love and warmth. He didn’t deserve the way you held onto him, didn’t deserve the way you still looked at him with hope.

And yet, something deep inside him, something he had buried long ago, made him squeeze your hand in return.

“I’ll come back,” he murmured so quietly that you might not have heard it even if you were awake.

A promise.

A vow.

Heeseung wasn’t a good man but for you… maybe, just maybe, he could try.

Heeseung sat in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the world outside quiet except for the occasional hum of passing cars. His hand was still wrapped around yours, your grip weak from exhaustion, but you were still holding on—even in sleep.

His chest ached.

How could someone like you—soft, warm—still want to hold onto someone like him?

His gaze traced the delicate curve of your face, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. Without thinking or stopping, he brought your hand to his lips, pressing the softest kiss to your palm. His lips lingered there, breathing in your faint scent, memorizing how your fingers twitched slightly under his touch.

He wasn’t supposed to do this.

He wasn’t supposed to care.

But here he was, leaning over you, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead. His lips stayed there for a moment, longer than necessary, as if he could transfer everything he could never say into that single touch.

His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, brushing away a stray tear that had dried against your skin. You sighed softly, instinctively leaning into his warmth, and Heeseung swallowed the lump in his throat.

He needed to go.

His life was built on blood and violence, and no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much you begged him to come home each time, he knew—one day, he might not.

But for now, you were still here. Reaching for him in your sleep, still waiting for him to return.

And for now, that was enough to make him stay a little longer.

Heeseung stepped into the hallway, his boots quiet against the polished floor. The weight of his steps felt heavier than usual, each one dragging him further from you. The hallway stretched ahead, cold and uninviting, but it was the door at the end of it—the door leading to the life he had built, to the dark, dangerous world he couldn’t escape—that he had to face.

His men stood in the foyer, all dressed in their usual black, eyes sharp, expressions unreadable. They weren’t surprised to see him, but when their gazes met, they froze.

Heeseung’s shoulders slumped under the weight of it all, his chest tightening as he saw the understanding in their eyes. They knew.

They knew what it was like to leave home—knowing they were going into the unknown, unsure if they’d ever return. They knew the sting of a wife’s kiss on the forehead, a child’s cry for their father. The bitter silence followed when the door shut behind them, leaving loved ones to fend for themselves.

But none of them had ever seen Heeseung like this.

His eyes were bloodshot, tears brimming at the edges, the kind of tears he’d never allowed himself to shed in front of anyone, let alone in front of his men. His hands shook as he placed them against the cold wall to steady himself, fighting against the sobs that clawed at his throat.

He was supposed to be strong.

He was supposed to be the one who never faltered and led with ruthless precision. But tonight, leaving you felt like the most challenging thing he had ever done.

He turned his face away, but it was too late.

His men had already seen. They turned around, their backs to him as they gave him space—understanding the depth of the pain that was welling up inside him. Each of them had their own stories and reasons for leaving behind the ones they loved, but seeing Heeseung like this… they couldn’t ignore it.

The sound of his sobs echoed through the empty foyer.

It was raw and vulnerable—a sound that should never have escaped him. Heeseung didn’t cry. He never had, not since he was a child, not since the world had shaped him into something else. But tonight, as he stood there, the distance between him and you growing with every passing second, his resolve cracked.

He didn’t care that his men heard.

He didn’t care that he was supposed to be in control.

All that mattered was you—alone in the house, waiting for him, loving him in a way he never thought possible. And as much as he wanted to stay, to hold you, to tell you that everything would be alright, he knew he couldn’t.

Not tonight.

He wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath and steadying himself, but his voice, when he spoke, was hoarse.

“I’ll be back, sweetheart,” he said, barely above a whisper.

But even he didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

The sound of his men moving behind him was faint. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to. They had all left home like this, torn between duty and the people they loved. And for a moment, they understood each other without a single word.

The door clicked shut, and the only thing left in the empty foyer was the lingering echo of a man who didn’t know if he could bear to leave the love he had spent so long pushing away.

PART 2

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[xichilie]

ive got two ideas for you; pick whatever one you like better. imagine brant unknowingly becoming overprotective of his pregnant wife to the point where he doesn't even let her walk in a puddle or imagine him getting crazy drunk, seeing the reader, refusing to let go of them, and shamelessly flirting with the reader.

thank you.

I love these ideas, especially Brant being drunk and shamelessly flirting with the reader because I can picture this happening

Brant x (fem) reader

A Drunken Fool in Love

The Fool’s Troupe had seen Brant in many states—smug, dramatic, dazzling on stage, even deeply focused when strategizing. But this?

This was something else entirely.

Brant was drunk.

Not his usual, playful tipsy where he could still charm a crowd with a slurred flourish—no, tonight he was completely gone.

It had started as a simple celebration after another successful performance in one of Rinascita’s grand plazas. The drinks had flowed freely, the music was lively, and the entire troupe had let loose in their own ways.

Brant, however, had dedicated himself to the wine like it was a lover who might disappear at any moment.

And now, that lover was very much in his system.

Y/N wasn’t too concerned—Brant could hold his liquor well enough that he rarely made a complete fool of himself. Usually. But she should have known better the second he spotted her across the tavern and his entire face lit up as if she were the most radiant thing in existence.

"Ohhh, my darling~"

Y/N barely had time to process before she found herself scooped into Brant’s arms, her back pressed against his chest as he practically draped himself over her.

"Brant—" she started, but he cut her off, pressing a kiss to her cheek with a dramatic sigh.

"You grow more beautiful every time I look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with both drink and adoration. "Truly, how do you do it? Are you enchanting yourself when I’m not looking? I demand to know your secret!"

Y/N sighed, though her lips twitched in amusement. "Brant, you just saw me five minutes ago."

"Five agonizing minutes," he corrected, pressing his forehead against hers. "Each second apart is a torment, my love!"

The troupe, who had been watching the display with growing amusement, chuckled amongst themselves.

Pero leaned toward Dominick. "This is getting better by the second."

Brant, blissfully unaware, continued his shameless adoration. His hands found Y/N’s waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against the fabric of her coat as he sighed dramatically.

"Do you know what the worst part of life is, my love?" he whispered, voice low and full of exaggerated sorrow.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I’m afraid to ask."

He pressed a hand to his heart. "That I only have one lifetime to spend with you."

Pero snorted into his drink. Andreas was barely holding in a laugh.

Y/N groaned, covering her face. "Brant—"

"And what have I done to deserve you?" he continued, his voice rising for dramatic effect. "Did I save a kingdom in my past life? Was I a hero, a saint, a legend destined for greatness? Surely the heavens must have rewarded me, for how else could I have been given the greatest treasure in all of Rinascita?"

Y/N, utterly overwhelmed, turned to the others for help. "Are any of you going to stop him?"

Dionysia grinned. "Not a chance."

Roccia, who had been watching the scene unfold with her usual quiet observation, merely exhaled softly.

Barton took a sip of his drink and muttered, "This is painful."

Brant, apparently not done, suddenly pulled Y/N onto his lap, securing her in place as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"My darling," he purred. "Did you know that your eyes shine brighter than any star?"

Y/N sighed. "Brant—"

"Did you know that your voice is sweeter than the finest melody?"

"Brant—"

"And did you know," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear, "that I would gladly fight an army of Echoes if it meant securing your love for another day?"

Y/N sighed deeply. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet," Brant murmured, "you love me for it."

Before she could retort, Brant suddenly sat up straighter, his expression brightening like he’d just had the greatest idea in the world.

"A TOAST!"

Y/N froze.

"Oh no," she groaned, already dreading whatever was about to happen.

Brant climbed onto the bench, raised his mug, and took a deep breath.

"To my beloved!" he bellowed, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone in the tavern. "The most radiant, most enchanting, most utterly divine soul to have ever graced this world!"

The entire tavern cheered.

Y/N felt her face burning as Brant, pleased with himself, dramatically dipped her back in his arms.

"How will you ever survive my love?" he purred.

Y/N sighed, though she couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped out. "Brant, you are impossible."

"And yet," Brant murmured, "you love me for it."

She exhaled, giving in. "Of course I do."

The troupe collectively groaned at how disgustingly sweet they were.

Pero wiped away a fake tear. "Beautiful. Simply beautiful."

Dionysia laughed. "I’ll be telling this story for weeks."

Getting Him Home

Y/N exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Alright, that’s enough performing for one night. Come on, Brant. Let’s get you home before you start reciting poetry next."

Brant gasped as if she had suggested something truly horrendous. "Darling! Poetry would be the least I could do to express my love! Why, I could write an epic about your beauty, your kindness, your—*"

"Or," Y/N interrupted, already pulling him toward the door, "you could save that for tomorrow."

Brant huffed but allowed himself to be guided out of the tavern, his arm slung heavily around her shoulders. He leaned heavily against her, making their walk a little awkward, but Y/N supported his weight without complaint.

The cool night air hit them, and Brant let out a pleased sigh. "Ahhh, the night… so dark, yet not as dark as the depths of my love for you…"

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "You’re such a fool."

"And proud of it," Brant slurred, nuzzling into her shoulder. "But I am your fool…"

She shook her head, chuckling. "Yes, you are."

By the time they reached their quarters, Brant was barely standing upright.

Y/N eased him onto the bed, kneeling to pull off his boots as he flopped onto the mattress, sprawled out like a man who had fought the grandest battle of his life.

She shook her head fondly. "Honestly, Brant… You can command an entire stage without breaking a sweat, but the second you drink too much, you turn into this."

Brant cracked open one eye, a lazy smile on his face. "And yet you still love me."

Y/N sighed, sitting beside him. "Unfortunately, yes."

Brant let out a happy hum and reached for her, pulling her down so she was lying beside him. His arms wrapped around her tightly, his body warm and softer in a way that made Y/N's heart squeeze.

He buried his face into her neck, sighing contentedly. "Mmm... My love…"

Y/N ran her fingers gently through his blue hair, letting him settle. "Get some sleep, Brant."

"Only if you stay right here…" he mumbled.

She smiled. "I’m not going anywhere."

Within minutes, Brant’s breathing evened out, his body relaxing completely against hers. Y/N pressed a soft kiss to his temple, shaking her head at the ridiculous night they’d just had.

He was a fool.

But he was her fool.

[yveslogy]

Vanilla & Danger

Pairing: Se-mi x Fem! Reader

CW/TW: There are also themes of infidelity, charged emotional tension, alcohol consumption, and explicit sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Note: The work is fictional and only suitable for mature audiences. The songs encompass desire, temptation, self-discovery, and the facets of emotion involved in relationships. Not to advocate cheating, but to show the visceral response and decision behind it. So please read the story responsibly.

Word Count: 1.3k+

The bass pounding through the walls vibrated the floor under my feet as I leaned against the kitchen counter, a drink in my hand that had long since lost its chill. The party was in full swing—bodies crammed together in a dim, neon-lit living room, sweat-slicked skin and half-full cups sloshing to the floor. Laughter, music, the occasional drunken shout—it all melded into a euphoric haze.

But none of it mattered.

Because Se-mi was here.

She was leaning against the fridge, facing me, looking so cool in ripped jeans and a cropped leather jacket, her wolf cut messy in a way that felt deliberate. She had this lazy, shaggy smirk in the corners of her mouth, her lip ring catching the low light every time she turned her head. Her eyes sharp, dark and mischievous—tracked me as if she already knew what I was thinking more than I did.

And the worst part? She probably did.

“Your girl ain’t here tonight?” Se-mi asked between slow mouthfuls of her drink. Her voice was low, husky, winding around me like smoke.

I rolled my eyes. “She’s around somewhere.”

Se-mi hummed, unconvinced. “Doesn’t sound like she cares too much.”

I stiffened. “She does.”

She arched a brow. “Sure.” A beat of silence held between us, heavy and charged. Then she edged closer, close enough for me to note the faint traces of her cologne—something dark and sweet, like vanilla cut with risk. “But if she did, how come you’re over here alone?”

I swallowed, clutching my cup a bit too hard. Se-mi always did this—pushed in too close, too deep, as if she could see every crack in my armor. Like she wanted to pop me open and see what I was made of.

And the worst part? A part of me wanted her to.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered and looked away.

Se-mi just laughed; the sound sent a chill down my spine. “I know you, though.” Another step. She was close enough, heat radiating from her frame, her breath skating across my ear as she leaned in. “And I know you deserve more than some cold half-assed love.”

Her words burned. She isn't wrong, and that’s what made it worse. My girlfriend—if she could still be called that, had been checked out for months, present but not really there even when she was. No late-night calls, no lingering touches, no fire. Just empty I love you’s that didn’t seem to me to mean anything.

But I stayed. Because I was supposed to. Because in relationships, that’s what you do, right?

Se-mi made me question that.

She tilted her head, those sharp eyes studying me, then got up and pulled me to my feet as she led me to one of the rooms upstairs.

The door opened, and immediately, the background turned into a world of wealth and silk. And Se-mi shoved me through the door, which thud quietly closed behind us.

The room was dim, and the only sound was the soft hum of music from downstairs. Se-mi’s eyes met mine, and I felt the fire in her gaze. She touched me, and we began to take off our clothes, her fingers running along the lines of my body.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” she whispered, her voice heavy with need.

I swallowed hard, her body pressing into mine as she leaned closer. Se-mi’s lips met mine, hot, insistent. She kissed me back as if she wanted to eat me, her tongue probing inside my mouth.

I groaned, my body reacting to her caress. Se-mi held my waist, fingers dug in and pulling me closer. I lost myself in the sensations, my body begging for more.

Se-mi’s hands wandered over my body as we kissed. She squeezed my nipples and rolled them between her fingers. When she reached down and traced with her fingers the lines of my body, electric waves made their way through my body.

Se-mi’s hands dug into my thighs, urging me as she guided me to the bed. I was charged with anticipation her hands surely deft.

My body tensed in anticipation as I lay there. The moment Se-mi's eyes met mine there was no mistaking how badly she wanted me. She inhaled deeply, her breath soft against my ear.

“I own you,” she said, with a husky voice filled with lust. “And you are going to feel so much more than a touch.”

Se-mi’s lips slid against mine once more, fiery and urgent. But this time, she was taking me. This was her way of marking me as hers, and I understood then that I was hers, body and soul.

I felt the hairs on my neck rise as Se-mi’s lips brushed my ear. She touched her hand, finding the trails along my body. The touch of palmer on my clit brought another jolting electric charge through my body as her fingers began piercing deep inside.

I moaned, pressing my body against Se-mi’s roaming hands. She put her hand on my nipples, rolling them in between her fingers. A wicked pleasure washed over me when Se-mi’s hot demanding lips found mine.

I felt myself getting lost in the feeling as we kissed. Se-mi was the master of my body, a conductor escorted me to a place of pleasure. I was hers, and I knew it.

Se-mi had her hands on my chest, squeezing on my nipples. Her lips brushed my ear as she leaned in, and I felt a kind of pleasure sweep over me.

“I want you to come,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire as she put on her strap-on.

I nodded, my body reacting to her touch. Se-mi’s hands gripped my thighs, pulling me close as she guided me back down toward the edge of the bed.

I was thrilled with anticipation as Se-mi knelt over me. We were perfectly sized for each other; her hips molded against my thighs. She leaned in, and our lips met, and it zapped me with electricity that coursed through my entire body.

As we kissed, Se-mi started to push the head of her strap and she started rocking back and forth. Her hips pressing into mine. As she stretched me out so I could take in all of her, a wave of pleasurable sensation washed over me.

I moaned and arched into her as Se-mi kept moving. Her body fit perfectly against mine, her hips driving into my thighs. It was a shock, an electric rush at her lips when she leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine.

I melted into the feeling as we kissed. In that moment, I didn’t give a damn about anyone else. I did not give a shit about my girlfriend, or our relationship. What I cared about was Se-mi, and how she made me feel.

Se-mi moved more vigorously now, her hips seeking the rough pressure of mine. A wave of pleasure washed over me as she leaned into my body to feel me more.

I moaned, my body curling into hers as I reach my climax. My body shook as i came, walls clenching. This was the first sheet, and as it came off the other side, I felt a charge of electricity shoot through my body as she leaned into me and pressed her lips to my forehead.

As we gasps for air, Se-mi’s gaze landed on my eyes. They blazed, with a fire I’d never seen. In that moment, I knew I belonged to her; she had claimed me as her own.

By the time the sun bled into the sky, I was snared in her sheets, body buzzing, mind spinning. Se-mi was sprawled next to me, one arm flung carelessly over her head, watching me with that same knowing smirk.

“You gonna regret this?” she asked.

I swallowed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe I should have. Perhaps I should have felt guilty, given by the enormity of what I’d done.

But all I felt was free.

I looked up at her, my fingers skimming around the rim of her lip ring, and said, “No.”

Se-mi smiled, drawing me in again, and I allowed her.

Because for once, no one else was on my mind.

Just her.

Just this.

Just us.

Author’s Note: I got the idea of this story when I was thinking about passion versus obligation, being caught between what is expected of you and what you really want in life. Se-mi is a force of reckoning—the one who upends the protagonist thought they knew about love and loyalty. The most difficult decisions aren’t necessarily right or wrong, but what makes us feel alive.

Thank you for reading, and I hope this story made you feel something—tension, excitement, maybe even introspection. I’d love to hear what you think!

[miupow]

── ★ ˙🍓 ̟ tubatu as fanfic tropes !!

TXT x GN!READER ★ sfw, fluff, lowercase intended, alcohol mention, drunk!yeonjun, talk of marriage, jacket sharing, shy!soobin, kissing in the rain, best friend!taehyun, mentions of fighting (not w txt), meet cute this is a repost from my old blog! reblogs and comments are appreciated ^^

yeonjun -> drunken confessions

"i like you.." yeonjun slurs as you deposit him on the couch, cat eyes half-lidded and unfocused, limbs sprawled out everywhere-- you giggle, push his hair back, pretend he doesn't give you butterflies when his head lolls back and he gives you a lazy grin. "you're drunk." you shake your head, turn to the kitchen to get yeonjun some water, but the boy stops you with a drawn-out whine; "nooo, don't go, i mean it! i like you so much, you're so pretty, we should get married,," "i'm sorry?" you turn back to face him and laugh, cheeks heating up against your will-- you couldn't take a word yeonjun said right then seriously-- "we should get married," yeonjun repeated happily, already half-asleep just sitting on the sofa. "i'll be a good husband, just for you... i'll tell you i love you every day..."

soobin -> take my jacket

"are you cold?" soobin asks gently, frowning as he took in the way you were shaking like a leaf-- you hadn't bothered to grab a coat before agreeing to walk to the convenience store with him, not expecting the dark seoul streets to be this chilly... "i'm okay," you insist, wrapping your arms tight around your middle. "no you're not-- here," soobin scoffs, quick to shrug off his puffy jacket and drape it over your shoulders, "you can wear my jacket as long as you promise to give it back." you opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat-- soobin's coat was warm, engulfed you completely, and smelled just like him. you felt so cozy and small, wrapped up and surrounded by soobin... "thank you," you mumble into the coat instead, blushing furiously. "you're welcome-- you could catch a cold, you know. you need to be more careful." soobin was quick to hide his face, turning away to look out at the street, but you could see his red ears from a mile away.

beomgyu -> kissing in the rain

"beomgyu, i--" "shut up," he cuts off, diving in to capture your lips with his-- the height difference made you dizzy, beomgyu's deft fingers tilting your head up to face the pouring sky, protected from the rain only by his body melding against your own... it was raining so hard it was difficult to see, your clothes soaked through completely, your body chilled to the bone; you were freezing, shaking violently, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you dug your fingers into beomgyu's wet hair, deepened your kiss with a lofty sigh he tasted like fireworks. countless tiny explosions overwhelming your senses and like something sweet you couldn't name. "don't tell me to shut up," you retorted when you parted, breathing heavy, fingers still tangled in beomgyu's hair; "you shut up." "okay." beomgyu giggled, leaning in for another kiss.

taehyun -> friends to lovers

“you’re okay, i’ve got you,” taehyun murmured into your hair, holding you tight as you cried into his shoulder— this was the third time he’s been the one to console you after a fight with your boyfriend, and at this point taehyun was really starting to get tired of the guy. “you’re gonna be okay,” taehyun wished you could see how perfect of a boyfriend he could be for you, how much better he would treat you than that jerk… he rubbed your back as you sobbed into his shirt, trying his hardest not to show how irritated he was— how could anyone treat a person this perfect like this? you didn't deserve this, you deserved so much better! he would treat you like royalty, spoil you rotten... if you would let him. but he was terrified that he was one confession away from ruining your friendship. so he'd never say a word. at least, not until the timing was right. he was willing to wait.

hueningkai -> meet cute

"oh, i'm so sorry!" you squeak, disoriented and mortified beyond belief. "i wasn't paying attention--" you weren't even sure where to start, knocked clean on the pavement, contents of your purse scattered everywhere-- and worst of all, your iced coffee spilled all over a complete stranger. And he was so handsome, too!! "no, no, I'M sorry!" he replied, sounding just as flustered as you were. he helped you gather your things, looking so apologetic despite you being the one to bump into him. "i should have looked where i was going!" you couldn't fathom why he felt the need to apologize when he was the one who now had a giant stain on his light colored sweater. "i'm so sorry about your sweater--" you repeated, rummaging around in your bag. "i might have some napkins in here--" "don't worry about it, it's fine!" the stranger giggled, offering you a hand-- you took it hesitantly but gratefully, face heating up at his pretty smile and strong grip. "i'm hueningkai by the way, what's your name?"

[baelabong]

ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ

(ʏᴜɴᴊɪɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

plot: yunjins been cheating. but she didn’t mean it … right?

notes: toxic yunjin, dumbass y/n again, istg guys the only things that gain attention iz my karina and winter fics 💔💔

you sit on the couch, your phone clutched in your hand, staring at the screen, waiting for yunjin's name to pop up. it doesn’t. hours pass, and the ticking of the clock feels like a taunt. where is she? you tell yourself it’s nothing—she’s probably stuck at practice or maybe went out with the girls, but that nagging feeling in your chest grows heavier. it’s been too long.

finally, you hear the door creak open. she stumbles in, not her usual put-together self. she looks messy, worn-out. the smell of alcohol hits you before she even speaks. when she does, her voice is low, slurred.

"hey, baby," she tries to smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. her gaze is distant, foggy, like she's not really here with you.

"where have you been?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but the hours of waiting twist your voice with anxiety. you hate sounding paranoid, but you can't help it anymore.

"just out with the girls. practice ran late… then drinks," she mumbles, her words stumbling out, as if she’s trying to get past them quickly.

you get up, moving closer, searching her face for something, anything, that makes sense. but her eyes—they’re empty, evasive. "why didn’t you answer my calls?"

"didn’t hear it," she shrugs, still avoiding your gaze. "too loud, i guess."

it's weak. her excuses always are. and it's not just the excuse, it's the way she says it—like she doesn’t care enough to make it believable. your stomach twists, a cold knot forming. there’s more to this, you can feel it.

"yunjin, what’s going on?" you ask, your voice wavering despite your effort to stay calm. you’ve been through this too many times to ignore the signs.

she sighs, running a hand through her hair. for a second, her tough front slips, and she looks at you, really looks at you. "i... i messed up."

your heart stops. "what do you mean?"

"i was drunk, and... i kissed someone else."

her words are like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of you. you take a step back, needing space to think, but your mind is spinning. "you kissed someone?"

"it didn’t mean anything," she rushes, stepping toward you, but you back away again. "it was just a stupid, drunken mistake. i swear, it only happened once."

the room feels too small now, the walls closing in. you trusted her. after everything, you trusted her, and she... "how long has this been going on?"

"what? no, i told you, it was just once—"

"how long, yunjin?" your voice is louder now, anger bubbling up. you don't want to be the fool who believed her lies for too long.

she hesitates, her eyes darting away for a moment before coming back to you. "just once," she insists, but the doubt in her eyes says otherwise. "i was drunk. it meant nothing."

you want to believe her. god, you want to believe her so badly. but the way she's been acting lately—distant, secretive—there’s more to this.

"i deserve the truth," you say, your voice shaky but firm. you’re done playing this game.

she steps closer, softening her expression like she’s trying to lure you back in. "baby, you’re overthinking this," she coos, her voice sickly sweet, the kind that used to comfort you but now just makes you feel uneasy. "it was a mistake. everyone makes mistakes."

"but you didn’t tell me," you push back, feeling a flicker of anger spark in your chest. "you hid it from me."

"because i knew you’d overreact," she snaps, her patience thinning. "you always do this. you always assume the worst."

her words sting, making you question yourself. am i overreacting? was it just a one-time mistake? you’ve been second-guessing yourself so much lately, it’s hard to tell anymore.

yunjin’s close now, her eyes locked on yours, her voice dropping lower, more intimate. "you know i love you, right?"

"yeah, but—"

she cuts you off, cupping your face in her hands. "i love you," she whispers, her thumb brushing over your cheek, her touch soft but with an underlying tension. "you’re the one i come home to. don’t let something this small ruin us."

her words start to blur the lines in your mind. maybe it’s not as big of a deal as it feels. maybe you are overthinking. she’s here, isn’t she? but then, the memory of all those nights alone, waiting, wondering—those doubts flare up again.

"yunjin, i can’t just forget this," you murmur, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. "you hurt me."

for a moment, her eyes harden, just for a second, before she puts on a sad, almost pitying smile. "i know, and i’m sorry," she says, but her voice feels insincere, dripping with mockery. "but you need to stop being so paranoid. it was one kiss. do you really think i’d throw everything away for that?"

your mouth opens to respond, but she silences you, pressing a finger to your lips. "shh, don’t ruin this," she whispers, stepping even closer, her body pressing against yours. "we’re good together. you know that."

her other hand trails down your arm, sending shivers through your skin. you should push her away. you should be angry, but instead, her closeness overwhelms you, clouding your thoughts.

"just let it go," she murmurs before pulling you into a kiss, one that’s not soft or reassuring. it’s possessive, controlling, like she’s forcing you to forget everything else.

and somehow, it works. the fight drains out of you as her lips move against yours, your mind going blank. you forget the pain, the doubt, the questions. it’s just her now, her hands on you, her breath mixing with yours, until all you can feel is her.

when she pulls back, you're breathless, but not from the argument—from the way she’s made everything else disappear.

"see?" she whispers, her lips brushing your ear. "it’s just you and me, baby. nothing else matters."

you nod, your mind too hazy to argue anymore. "just us."

[hoe4almondmilk]

Salvation [Part One]

Thranduil/Human!Reader Thranduil and his elves save you from death. Why? Not even he knows. a/n: thinking about making this a multi-part series. I would love feedback! Warnings: attempted SA, general violence, death, language, and maybe some smut later on as this story progresses. 😝

This is it. You thought to yourself. This was how you were going to die. 

You screamed and kicked as the group of three men pinned you down on the forest floor. They laughed at how weak you were compared to them. Knowing you didn’t stand a chance against even just one of them. 

Before the attack, you were out collecting berries. There was a particular bush you loved to collect berries from, deeper in the Mirkwood forest, not too far from your village. You loved this part of the forest as it was usually very peaceful until you were leaving. Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched by the men. When you were just about to leave the forest, they made their presence known. You tried to run, and when they couldn’t outrun you, one of them threw a rock at you. Luckily, they missed your head and hit your shoulder instead. It was enough to knock you down.

You had never seen these men before. They weren’t from your village. You didn’t come from the best village, but these men were horrid and scraggly-looking. Men, your father would’ve warned you about. 

You heard about an epidemic amongst certain villages of men. Rumors say that villages were experiencing a significant gender gap. Where there were more men than women, this had caused eruptions of violence amongst these villages. Driving men to horrid things like marrying off young girls into forced marriages, rape, and kidnapping women from villages that didn’t have the issue. 

One held your arms down; another one pinned your legs down. The main one was laughing; you could smell his drunken breath as he got closer to your face. He held a knife of some sort to your neck.

“We got lucky today, fellas.” He laughed darkly. Dragging the knife down your neck onto one of your breasts. “Such a pretty girl. We don’t have anything like you in our village. Do we, boys?” The other men agreed with him. He planted a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. You felt like vomiting from his breath mixed with ale. 

“Please…” You sobbed. “Please let me go.” 

They ignored your pleas and cries. The men continued to laugh. The main culprit tore your cloak with his knife. “You are ours now.” He cut open the front of your dress, nicking your breast with his knife, causing you to scream, not from pain but from fear. The man slapped you. “Quiet, wench!”

You just sobbed and sobbed, and you felt him ripping the bottom of your dress. You shivered with fear as you felt his dirty hands run up your pinned-down legs. The man stood up to undo his pants. You began to mentally prepare yourself for what was going to come. You never imagined your first sexual encounter being a rape. You didn’t deserve this. No one did. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw an arrow shoot the man in the chest.  The other two men who were holding you down began to scream, letting you go and trying to run. You tried to move to see what was happening; you saw a group of elves riding elk shoot the other two men with their bows and arrows. You started screaming even more now. You were most likely trespassing in the elves' part of the Mirkwood forest. You’ve heard stories about how cruel the elves are in this area, killing anyone who sets foot on their territory.

 Your body was stiff from the fall you took; you couldn’t get up and run if you wanted to. You lay there crying and wiggling your body, trying to move—no such luck. You saw a younger male elf come up to you. You started screaming. The young elf panicked. He tried to calm you down by shushing you. He knelt to you and blew a strange purple powder on your face. Your screaming came to a halt as the substance sedated you. Before you succumbed to the darkness, you heard another elk coming.

“Is she dead?” A deep voice asked. “No, my lord. I gave her Valerian powder. She was screaming, and I was unsure how to get her to stop." The elf replied. 

Darkness and nothingness overcame you.

The king looked at you. You lay sprawled out on the forest floor, asleep; your clothes were torn. Your body was covered in dirt and blood. You lay there absolutely helpless and pitiful. He wondered what you were even doing out here. 

“King Thranduil.” Another elf ran over, holding your abandoned basket of berries. “I think we interrupted an assault.” She said.

“Good, I am glad we killed those men then. Disgusting.” Thranduil’s brows furrowed, and he grimaced. He heard about the violence going on in the villages. To see it in action was another thing. “Bring her to me.” He ordered the elf next to you.

The elf picked up your limp body, trying not to shift you too much as your dress was still torn. Trying to maintain your modesty. He carried you princess-style to the King. Gently handing you over to him. Thranduil held you on his lap. His arm supported your neck, and your legs were over his other arm. “We will take her back home and monitor her.” The king told the other elves. They nodded in agreement. He knew you would not survive the night out here, especially being so close to the spiders. He looked down at you.

 Poor thing. She has been through enough. 

Thranduil would be dishonest if he said he didn’t notice your beauty, especially for a mortal. You were breathtaking, and your skin had a glow that only humans had. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of anger thinking about the men they had just slain, your attackers. They saw you as an object; they didn’t see your beauty. That was the thing about mortals he did not care for. They couldn’t simply appreciate beauty without conquering it or destroying it.  

Thranduil and his elves made their way back to the castle. 

You were asleep for most of the ride there. There was a point where you awoke for just a split moment. You had caught a glimpse of the Elven king. His long, platinum hair and his piercing grey eyes. He was just as handsome as the paintings you’ve seen of him. Those lucky enough to catch even the slightest glimpse of the elven king painted what they saw. You could feel his body’s hold on you. He was strong, but it didn’t scare you. His strength wasn’t like the men who assaulted you. His strength felt like protection.  You were still so weak, too weak even to make a sound, being consumed by the darkness again.

You awoke when you heard female voices speaking in Elvish. Your eyes slowly opened. A bright light from a window shone upon you. You slowly sat up, looked down, and saw that you were in a large plush bed. You looked around the large room; the surrounding walls were gorgeous stone. You immediately remembered what happened out in the forest and panicked, feeling your body. Your clothes were gone, and you were in a cotton chemise. You looked down at your chest and saw that the cut you had was bandaged up. Your arms were covered in bruises. 

When she noticed you were awake, an elven woman quickly approached you and immediately began calming you down. “All is well.” She cooed as she rubbed your back. “You are the king’s palace. You are safe here.” 

“King? What king?” You questioned, teary-eyed. “I don’t remember anything except those men who attacked me… What happened to them?” 

“King Thranduil saved you. He and his men killed the men who hurt you. He is the king of the Woodland Realm," she said as she grabbed the chalice full of water from the nightstand beside the bed. “Drink this; it is water. I am sure the Valerian dehydrated you,” she instructed.  

You immediately chugged the water. Your throat was sore, and the water felt like pure silk as it traveled down your throat. 

“Where is the king?” You asked as she got up from the bed. 

“He is eating dinner. I will alert him that you have awoken. He will be pleased to see you.” She smiled at you before she left the room.

You fell back asleep, and what seemed like hours later, you were awoken by the same elf. They helped dress you since your clothes were destroyed. They dressed you in a long, flowy purple dress with floral embroidery and ballroom sleeves. You had never worn fabrics this high in quality nor this beautiful. They also brushed out your long hair and put small decorative braids in it. You weren’t sure why they were dressing you so nicely to meet the king. Maybe the rumors about the elves were just false. You were always curious about them. You saw a beautiful elf in the forest when you were just a little girl, and you have been enchanted by them since. 

Once you were done getting ready, the king's guards escorted you to the king's throne. The walk there was quite lengthy. The palace was so large, you had never seen anything like it. It was extraordinary. The floors and the columns were made of wood; it looked like you were inside a tree. The guards had stopped at two large double doors, and behind them was the throne room. You thanked them for escorting you as you continued through alone. You felt more nervous now. 

There he was, the King. He sat on his throne, which looked like it was made of large elk antlers, holding a wooden cane. You didn’t expect him to be so handsome; you could only remember bits and pieces of the ride to the palace. As you approached his throne, the only thing you could think to do was curtsy. 

The king’s lips curved into a smile. “I see you are feeling better. What is your name?” 

“Yes, I am. I am so thankful, Your Majesty. My name is (y/n).” You could feel your eyes well up with tears; a single tear escaped your eye. You quickly wiped it off your face. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Us elves in the Woodland Realm are known to be cold, but as cold as I can be, I do not believe anyone should suffer such an egregious death,” Thranduil said as he stood up from his throne and stepped down the steps. “I have heard the rumors about the chaos ensuing in the villages of the men.” He was now standing in front of you. He was so incredibly tall, even for an elf. Your head just barely reached his shoulders. 

“Yes.” You said, looking down. “It’s horrible.” 

Your breath hitched when you felt Thranduil’s long, slender fingers grab your chin to look up at him. Forcing you to look him in the eyes. “If you knew this, why did you go to Mirkwood?” He asked. Though his gaze was intense, his tone was more curious.

“I was gathering berries. I did not mean to trespass on your land. Please believe that. I did not want to lead the men back into my village.” Your eyes began to water again. “We have many young girls. I did not want them to be put in harm's way. I thought I could outrun them.” You were crying at this point. 

Thranduil’s fingers wiped the tears off your face—a gentle gesture. You weren’t sure why he was being so kind to you. Maybe you’re just used to how men in your village treated women as nothing but subservient beings. His hand gently moved over to your back, where the men had thrown a rock at you. His hand softly petted your injury. You stiffened for a brief moment before you relaxed into his touch. He quickly drew his hand back. There was something about him that you felt you could trust more than any man you knew. “You are safe now.” Thranduil’s icy eyes didn’t feel so icy at this moment. “Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?” Thranduil asked you. 

You shook your head, “No, I am alone.” Both of your parents had passed, and you had no siblings. You were utterly alone back home.

“Good, you will be staying here then—for now,” Thranduil replied. He saw your eyes widen with confusion. 

“What do you mean, my lord?” You asked, still confused. He wants you to stay here? In his palace? You were just a human and not a special one at that. You were a mere commoner.

“Yes, the violence is increasing out there amongst the men. It is imperative that you learn to protect yourself.” Thranduil began going back up the stairs to his throne. 

“How will I learn to do that?” you asked, stepping the slightest bit.

“My son, Legolas, and Tauriel, head of the elven guard here.” He sat on his throne. “You will start tomorrow, which is an order, (y/n).” You could've sworn you saw the slightest smirk on his face when he said that. 

“Yes, my lord.” You agreed; it’s not like you have much of a choice. Who were you to disobey the King? You also wondered what this self-defense training would include. 

“You should get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow, " the king said as he dismissed you.

You nodded and turned around. When you exited the throne room, you were greeted by the female elf who helped you earlier. She escorted you back to your room and helped you prepare for bed. 

You sat in your bed for a while. It was dark and dimly lit by a candle near your bed. You curled up into a ball, and tears began to follow as you processed everything. You cried yourself to sleep that night.  

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: Yunho x f! Reader

Genre: Smut, very very light angst, established relationship, E for explicit

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/being inebriated, peer pressure, jealousy, smut warnings under cut

Word count: 1111

Smut warnings: Oral (f receiving), somnophilia (consensual, discussed beforehand but not shown), fingering (f receiving), cunnilingus, dom/sub (yunho dom yn sub)

This is for the jealousy collab with @flurrys-creativity (green-eyed, misguided), @sanjoongie (pink with jealousy, speak up), and @mingsolo (enough, before you go)!! Tis the first of two hehe i hope u like! The Jongho one will just be hurt/comfort, posted on @daemour ♡

-

You swear you didn't mean to. It's not often you go out with friends, and your FOMO was going strong after missing out on so many planned club dates. But you did try to say no, honest you did. Having someone write on your tits while you're drunk is not a fun time, and you made sure to chew out your so-called friends for letting that happen to you. But it doesn't mean you don't still dread facing your boyfriend.

Yunho, with so much patience for you, understanding, and love he has for you, sent you twenty texts and three calls after your friends posted your shame on Instagram. You told him it wasn't your idea, that you were coming home after sleeping off your drunkenness, and you know deep down he isn't truly mad at you. But it doesn't mean you'll get off scot-free.

He's been trying to get you to stand up for yourself more, and this counts as a huge setback in his book. You know you're in for some trouble when you finally reach your shared apartment door as the sun is rising.

Carefully, you creak open the door to see Yunho sitting on the couch, a barely-buttoned blue sleepshirt and black frames perched on his nose. His eyes are shut and you let out a slow, quiet breath at the sight of your boyfriend napping on the couch. You know you deserve whatever upset he directs at you, but it's nice to get a moment of peace after a long night of arguing with friends and trying to find your way back by yourself.

You set your back on the ground softly before heading to the shower to get the smell of weed and alcohol off your body. As you slip into pyjamas, you can hear the soft pad of feet on the hardwood floor, and you know that Yunho has woken up. Before you can turn around and apologise, you feel his slender arm wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. "Hey, baby," he whispers, pressing his face into your neck and pressing a soft kiss there. "We'll talk more in the morning. Let's go to bed first. And then we’ll find you new friends."

Happy for the break before the unavoidable conversation, you nod in agreement and let him lead you to the bed, settling down and turning to cuddle into Yunho's warm chest, letting your eyes flutter shut.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is his lips on your forehead.

-

When Yunho wakes up, he stares at your small, sleeping form curled up by his side. The sight of you is so sweet he almost forgets his annoyance, but after you sigh in your sleep and turn over, one of your shirt's buttons pops open and he can see a hint of marker that you couldn't scrub off last night on your plush chest. Heat blazes in his heart again and he tsks, shaking his head and sitting up properly and undoing your shirt completely to look over his boobs.

How dare your friends pressure you into that? Yunho grits his teeth for a long moment before leaning down to lave his tongue over the flesh of your breast, kissing your nipple. You moan quietly and turn a bit in your sleep, but you do not wake and Yunho raises an eyebrow.

The two of you had talked about this, and both of you agreed to allow each other to play with the other when asleep as long as there’s no coitus occurring. The idea of waking you up to his mouth on your cunt burns in his mind until he makes up his mind and slides down the bed until he’s almost level with your legs, the only thing covering them is the almost-sheer shorts.

As Yunho’s breath ghosts over your thighs, he pushes your shorts to the side, not even bothering to take them off as his eyes train in on your pussy. Carefully, slowly, Yunho presses his long fingers against your cunt, sighing low in his throat as your velvety folds part and his fingers kiss your hole. Your legs twitch but a snore escapes you and Yunho chuckles before pressing his lips to your clit.

You’re soft and warm, and Yunho can’t help but press the flat of his tongue against your clit until you let out a soft moan. His eyes flick upwards but you’re still asleep. But waiting has become boring now, not when the sting of your activities last night still pinch his heart.

He pushes his fingers in your hole, feeling your slick gather on his fingers and he sucks your folds between his teeth, groaning at the sweet-salty taste of you on his tongue. Without further ado, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in, curling them just right to your sweet spot and then–

Fingers fly down and grip his hair as you finally awaken, a loud moan slipping out your mouth as your thighs clench. “Yunho–” you gasp, but Yunho can’t bring himself to look up, focusing on swirling his tongue around your clit so well that your thighs shake and he can feel you dripping out around his hand. “Shit–”

You’re close already, Yunho thinks, and gives you one harsh suck as well as twisting his fingers so perfectly. There’s a sharp tug to his hair and Yunho lets you pull his head up as you come, cunt clenching so hard around his fingers as you come, moaning loud with your head thrown back.

“Morning,” Yunho rumbles low in his throat, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. “Have a pleasant night?”

Your face is flushed and Yunho thinks if he leans in, he could probably feel the heat radiating off your skin. “I– it was okay,” you squeak out, and Yunho shakes his head.

“Try again. Was it a nice night? Did you like it when another man touched your chest?” He punctuates his question with his fingers pumping once in and out of you and you lick your lips and moan softly.

“N-no,” you fix your mistake. “My chest is yours only.”

Yunho nods, pleased. “That’s right, baby. Let’s see…he signed your chest with eight letters? Let’s make that eight orgasms okay? Can you do that for me?”

He’s giving you an out, but you find that perhaps you don’t want that out, because you nod eagerly. “Yes– God, yes.”

“Good girl.” He twists his fingers again, and your hands scramble to grip the bedsheets. Yunho smiles down at you, reminiscent of a predator stalking his prey. “Remember, you’re only for me.”

[coyote-with-a-keyboard]

Please do Graves x Male reader, where they are exes, but after Graves finds out male reader is dating someone else, he tries to win them back? (can be nsfw or not, don't mind) 😭 btw amazing blog :3

a/n: thank you! I had my VERY late birthday party this weekend so that was fun, and doing requests is a wonderful way to unwind from this weekend haha

minors DNI - kind of dub-con because he’s drunk as fuck and your mean

Phillips was anything but a loyal man, from work to personal life he would lie, cheat, and steal to get the upper hand. It’s what made him the best..

one problem, he was also the most sulking self pitying kind of man, the kind of man that sat in his bed for days when you told him it wasn’t working

he was prideful, he was sinful. He knew that… but he missed you so so badly. It was as if someone had cut a hole through his chest and taken his heart with it, and for once cheap booze and cheaper parties didn’t fix it. Even his men were starting to notice the sadness in his eyes at overly stupid things that reminded him of you.

it made his head, chest, his whole body and soul ache with a clawing need every time without fail, from stupid shows you liked to stupider things you used to say

on one of his far too many bar trips he hazily spotted you, already brushing off his shirt to try to charm his way back into your arms or at least getting you riled up and jealous when he has to do a double take. Some little twink of a guy perched on your lap as if you aren’t his?

okay he’s definitely getting himself over his head now- but he’ll be boiling over with hatred for weeks if he doesn’t do anything, so he steadily walks towards you as if he wasn’t on his third shot and kind of wasted from his light beer chugging earlier

he wrapped his arm over your shoulder, completely ignoring the guy on your lap, sharp smile gracing over him as if he was a living saint and not the person your trying to ignore, sickly sweet small talk dripping out of his mouth until the man on your lap slides off and walks away offended

It gave him some sick pleasure in his drunken haze, seeing your anger bubble up in your words like toxic chemicals. What he didn’t expect was for you to act on his teasing tone and drag him to the dingy bar bathroom- stumbling along as you pulled him around like he was a rag doll.

he couldn’t focus with the bright lights of the bathroom, wincing as his worn knees hit the cold tile in front of the stalls toilet you has dragged him into. His hands gripped at your pants on instinct with your hands tugging at his hair, his lips wet with slight drool as he kissed over the bulge of your jeans

your belt got tossed away pretty fast, his pretty lips sucking at the tip of your hard cock as he tried to get comfort from your touch. There was none, of course. Just rough, like putting a dog into its place by dragging it outside. He couldn’t take it, mind flashing back to when he was happily kneeling on your soft carpets with praise and gifts and adoration. He deserved this, sure- but it still hurt in a way this simple fuck wouldn’t fix

he suckled on your cock slowly, sliding it deeper into his throat every minute or so, gagging on it when his nose was flush with the base, trying not to pull away and cough, too desperate to not ruin the moment he needed so so badly

he didn’t look up at you, too scared to see the lack of love in your eyes- although he could still feel it like a ghost haunting the corners of his dizzy vision, too busy trying to please you to will it away.

he wasn’t quite sure how long it had lasted, but he had came in his pants twice at least, tough fabric against his sensitive nerves making it a overstimulating sensation. His eyes were glossy, hands gripping onto you for purchase as spit and tears soaked down his face to the tile below

He felt you bruise the back of his throat with every buck or thrust of your hips, his body letting out a needy whine muffled by his full mouth whenever you did so. He swallowed when you came, his throat painted white with your cum as you tugged him off of you, sliding your buckle on and calling him a cab in the dingy bathroom before patting him on the back and walking out calmly, as if he wasn’t still on his knees, trying to shake off his feelings and to sit up enough to drag himself back to base..

at least you might text him in the morning… he hoped.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hiiiiiiiiiii can I please request an imagine where yn is taking Gretchen out on a first date to the fair. It’s right after her and Jason broke up and Gretchen is assuming(worried) yn may be similar to how he treated her but after a bit she realizes Yn is the total opposite (winning her a prize and buying her treats) and they end up talking and having a sweet time at the fair.

Thank you!! Have a great day!

Miss Smooth Talker//

|| Gretchen Wieners x fem!reader

|| Warnings: underage drinking mention, hookup mention, swearing, Regina being Regina, Gretchen struggling with insecurities

|| Summary: first date, where Gretchen's worried that reader will be like Jason. But reader surprises her and they have a great time at a fair. Mostly fluff.

Requests open!

Started: April 23rd

Finished: April 26th

~~~

When Jason and Gretchen broke up you'd been there to comfort the girl. She told you all about it one night at one of Shane's house parties. You hated seeing her like that, she deserved better. So much better than a guy who only thinks of her when he's looking at her. She was your best friend and long time crush, so obviously you couldn't stand seeing her that upset.

One drink led to another and soon enough the two of you were wasted. Gretchen, in her very drunken state, had babbled on about how much she loved you and was grateful for a friend like you. You, without thinking twice (mainly because you couldn't think at all), kissed her. To your surprise she kissed back.

That's how you and Gretchen ended up having a one night stand.

It's been three weeks since then and Gretchen hasn't said a word to you, you could tell she was avoiding you you just didn't know why.

It was killing you not having your best friend.

Today you decided you would break the silence. Today would be the day you asked her out, because surely she wouldn't have kissed you if she didn't feel something too. Right?

Why else would she be avoiding you?

That lunch, you tracked her down and found her outside with her usual group. Karen, Regina and Cady. When Regina saw you she gave you an intense glare that sent shivers down your spine. You forced yourself to keep walking to Gretchen; having two cups of coffee in your hand. One was your favourite and the other was the order you knew was Gretchen's go to.

"Uh, no. Fuck off." Regina narrows her eyes at you once you stood next to Gretchen, you could see Gretchen tense up and you sighed. Crouching down to sit with her, catching Regina off guard because she wasn't used to people ignoring her. She tried saying more but you cut her off.

"Gretchen. Can we talk?" You looked at the girl, you looked away from Karen to look at you.

"We don't have anything to talk about, Y/N." You notice the slight tremble in her tone.

"Yes, we do. I know you've been avoiding me which if fine if you need the space but... a warning would have been nice at least." You ramble, wanting to get all your thoughts out before Gretchen could avoid you again. You quickly handed her her coffee," I.. um, got you this when I went out today. Maybe you could- I dunno, join me next time?"

Her eyes widened a little but she took the coffee, raising an eyebrow at you." Um... next time?"

"Like- a date- or not- we could just hang out-" Damn it. You had been so prepared for this. Here you were stuttering like an idiot.

Gretchen blushed when you said date and glanced at Regina, who scoffed and rolled her eyes. She looked back at you and smiled," a date?"

"I really like you, Gretchen. Sure we were both drunk but to me it was more than a hook up. Consider it at least?" You hoped she would hear you out at the very least, she nodded. You felt you could breathe a little easier now, you weren't as anxious as you had been.

"Oh! If you're going on a date there's a fall fair this weekend!" Karen piped up, you looked at Karen and smiled. A fair sounded perfect.

You looked back at Gretchen," Well. Wanna go to the fair with me?"

"Yes! I'd love to!" Gretchen grinned, feeling much more relaxed than she had been. She wanted her best friend back as much as you did, she was just scared of having a Jason repeat. In the back of her mind she knew you weren't like that. She knew you well enough to know that. But she couldn't help thinking it.

"Really?" You were almost surprised she'd agreed, especially with how much she had been avoiding you. You sighed quietly to yourself in relief and made a mental note to thank Karen later for the date suggestion." Alright! I'll pick you up at five on Saturday and we can head down?"

"Sounds perfect!"

And that's how you got a date with Gretchen Wieners.

The days leading up to Saturday were some of the happiest you've had in a while. You had your best friend back, if you could even call her that now. You were definitely more than friends, you just didn't know if you were girlfriend level or not.

You talked any chance you had, hanging out throughout the day (which unintentionally made you a plastic, Gretchen informed you of all their rules), at night you'd go over to each other's houses and on the nights where you couldn't you face timed. Just as you always had. Only, there was more. Holding hands as you walked through the halls, cuddling as you laid in bed together, doing each other's makeup in a more... well, it felt much more intimate now. Having her that close and seated in your lap...

Finally, it was Saturday. The two of you had been face timing each other all morning. Helping each other get ready from your own respective homes. You'd picked out a nice comfortable fall outfit, you can decide what it is. Gretchen wore an orange long sleeve with black jeans, she'd done her hair up in a ponytail and all that was left was the makeup.

(fall outfit I was thinking for Gretchen)

"Hey, Y/N?" She said suddenly, getting your attention as you were fixing up your own hair.

"Yeah, Gren?" You looked at your phone, which you had propped up next to you.

"I know you'd said you were going to pick me up at five but um could I come over now? And we do each other's makeup?" Gretchen rambled out, you could tell she was a little nervous asking.

"Absolutely!" You smiled at the thought, Gretchen doing your makeup was definitely one of your favourite little things in your guy's relationship.

You could see her smile and her shoulders relax as she grabbed her phone and started getting whatever she needed to come to yours.

"Alright, I'll be there soon!" She tells you.

Soon enough, Gretchen was now in your room. You sat at your makeup station with Gretchen sitting in your lap, working on your makeup. You could see the concentration on her face and you couldn't help but grin, your hands wrapped around her lower waist to keep her steady in your lap.

"Close your eyes for me." Gretchen said, her voice nearly a whisper. You did as told.

She worked on your makeup for a solid ten minutes, making sure everything was perfect and to the way you liked it. She'd come up with the idea of matching fall makeup, which you thought sounded adorable so you agreed to it.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she looked at you and smiled before giving your cheek a soft kiss.

"You're gorgeous." She whispered, earning a faint blush from you.

"If I'm gorgeous, then that must make you angelic." You replied, a bit of a flirty tone in your voice. Gretchen blushed deeper than you did and giggled, you were pretty damn proud of getting that reaction out of her.

"Yeah well if I'm angelic that makes you a Goddess." Gretchen one upped you, making your blush deepen. Your hand rested to the back of her neck as you pulled her closer to you, lips just inches apart.

Your eyes locked on hers.

"Okay Miss Smooth Talker." You teased her, she laughed a little and kissed you deeply. You kisses her back, getting lost in the moment with each other.

This had been the first time since the party you had properly kissed each other. Was that even a proper kiss? You both were drunk, so you weren't sure if it counted. Sober kisses were so much better than drunk kisses.

As the kiss broke, your eyes remained on each other. Both grinning like love sick idiots.

When you finally snapped out of it a minute later, the two of you finished getting ready. You helping Gretchen with her makeup.

Once all that was settled, you took a photo for instagram. Arm draped around Gretchen's shoulders as you kissed her cheek.

The caption reading:

First date ready! 🍁🍂🫶

You weren't insta famous by any means, so your post only got a few likes from your friends and mutuals. Though you noticed a like and comment from Karen.

@ karenshetty EEEE U GUYS R CUTETS! 💕

You laughed a little and showed the comment to Gretchen, who smiled and looked up at you.

"She meant cuties." Gretchen translated for you, noticing you were a little confused by the spelling. You nodded in understanding and looked at the time on your phone.

4:42pm.

"Well, shall we head down?" You looked at Gretchen, who smiled and took your hand in hers.

"Let's go!"

~~~

At the fair, you and Gretchen are having an absolute blast. Or at least, you were. Gretchen was overthinking and worried that you might be like Jason; but every time she thought that way you would instantly prove her wrong without her even having to ask. You were perfect to her.

"Gren! Let's go over here!" You grabbed her hand, pulling her through a crowd.

"Woah, Y/N/N slow down!" Gretchen laughed as you pulled her along, the amount of energy you had always surprised her. She wondered how you could be that energetic all the time.

"I'm gonna win you the best fucking prize!" You exclaimed, throwing your free hand into the air with excitement. You were ready to kill it at these games.

Gretchen laughed and smiled as she watched you, finding it absolutely adorable. She took a small video of you being all bouncy.

Your eyes landed on the balloon dart game and smirked, seeing all the different prizes around it. You were going to win the biggest one for Gretchen. Pulling her along with you, you stepped up to the stand and the stand host explained the game to you.

You were only partly paying attention. You knew how to play; three darts for three chances to hit the balloons. The top corner balloons were worth the most points. So you aimed for those as Gretchen cheered you on.

Your first shot; you missed the corner one you had been aiming for but you hit the one two balloons below it. Earning you 30 points.

There's five rows of balloons, the bottom being worth 10 points, second row 20, middle 30, fourth 40, and top 50. The top corners were 60.

"30 points!" The stand host announced as you hit the balloon, you rolled your eyes and huffed.

You were determined to get that 60.

You tilted your wrist a little more and tossed the next dart, eyes narrowed at the 60 balloon.

The dart landed right above it.

"Come on!" You groaned, having missed the balloons entirely. This game was so much easier than it looked.

Gretchen rested her hand to your shoulder and smiled at you, giving your cheek a kiss which made you blush as you looked at her.

"A good luck kiss." She explained, her blush matching yours. God, she was adorable.

You shot your finale dart, hitting the 60. You immediately threw your hands into the air and smiled wide, looking at Gretchen. Good luck kisses for the win.

"60 points! That will bring your total up to 90, dear! Pick a prize!" The stand host said in that over exaggerated carnival voice. Y'all know the one.

You kept your eyes focused on Gretchen and bent slightly, gesturing to the prizes in a dramatic way." Well, m'lady. Pick a prize, any prize!" You mocked the carnival voice, earning a laugh from Gretchen an annoyed stare from the stand host.

Gretchen kissed your cheek in thanks and picked out a prize, going with a decently sized teddy.

"Adorable choice!" You kept up the voice, she looked at you and smiled. Her hand draped around your waist as you stared into each other's eyes.

"I'm really enjoying today." She told you as you both walked away from the stand.

"Yeah?" You smiled at her, a faint blush on your cheeks.

"Yeah. I was... worried this would end up like my last relationship- I know you and Jason are nothing at all alike, I know that- it's just-" She rambled out, trying to explain. You sighed, knowing exactly what she meant. You didn't fault her for it.

"What he did stuck with you, it's only natural to be scared. I'll never treat you the way he did." You assured her, seeing her relax as she kept her eyes locked with yours.

You had an idea.

Looking away from Gretchen, you laughed a little at what you were about to say," See! I'm still thinking about you even while I'm not looking at you."

This earned a laugh from Gretchen as she jokingly shoved you, she knew exactly what you were referencing. She had told you about when Jason said he only thought of her when he looked at her.

"You're such an idiot." She teased you, though she meant none of what she said.

You looked at her and brought her close to your side," Mm, maybe. But I'm your idiot, aren't I?"

She blushed and nodded," Yeah... yeah you are."

The rest of the day went really well, you and Gretchen decided to do the ferris wheel as your last activity for the night.

You sat in the booth as it went to the top at a slow motion, arms wrapped around each other as you laughed and talked about anything and everything.

You'd been mid complaining about an upcoming test, that Gretchen had totally forgotten about so she was complaining right along with you, when the ferris wheel stopped as the two of you were at the top. You glanced behind Gretchen and admired the finale parts of the sunset, looking at Gretchen you saw how it almost made her glow with how she was positioned in front of it.

God, she was gorgeous.

"Hey, I wanna get a picture of us up here. Scoot closer." You told her, she blushed and did as you asked. You held her close to her side and took a photo of the two of you, sunset in the background and set it as your new lock screen.

Gretchen smiled and looked at you.

"If I'm already your lock screen, does that mean I'm getting a second date with you?" She asked.

"A second and then some." You assure her, your eyes went to her lips and hers went to yours.

You kissed her, deeply and passionately. She kissed you back with a similar energy.

You couldn't wait to spend more time with Gretchen.

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (13)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 5k

← Previous Chapter (12) | Next Chapter (14) →

Baggage Chapter List

*****

With no money in the bank or dignity to uphold his principles, Jungkook's response to a threat was always flight. He'd long understood that a peasant like him had no chance of fighting.  However, the possibility of you and Soobin getting hurt because of his cowardice sparked something inside him.

Jungkook didn't know how, but he resolutely grabbed Lee Sung's knife with his bare hand, ignoring his trembling hand and his mind telling him to run.

"Now, now, Lee Sung-ah ~" Jungkook's body twisted until he faced the loan shark. His demeanor showed how he stubbornly refused to bend in the face of intimidation. It made Lee Sung's lips curve upwards.

"Not crying for mercy, Jungkook-ah?" A mocking laugh. Lee Sung watched as fresh blood trickled down Jungkook's hand. Jungkook didn't let go of the knife and even gripped its blade more forcefully. "Did hanging out with the feisty professor make you feel invincible?"

The mention of you was enough for Jungkook to lose his playful smirk, bare his teeth at Lee Sung, and snarl. One would think he was a helpless prey (and Jungkook guessed there was some truth to that), but the case changed when his enemies dared to involve you. Besides, Lee Sung had met Jungkook when he had nothing with him. Lee Sung never knew how Jungkook's mind worked and how he dealt with things when no Park Jimin was keeping him in check.

"Easy there, Lee Sung-ah~" Mirth crinkled in Jungkook's eyes. "Our game is for us alone, remember?"

How could Lee Sung not read the real meaning in Jungkook's voice wrapped in an almost syrupy charm? It was a threat, but Lee Sung couldn't help but chuckle. 'Jang Min-ssi,' Lee Sung whispered inwardly as his eyes darted to Jang Min standing meters away from them. "I understand now why you want to involve the professor in this game.'

"I'm so glad you mentioned our little game." Lee Sung blinked his gaze back to Jungkook. He forcefully retracted the knife, leaving a nasty straight cut in Jungkook's palm. Jungkook's face became unreadable, though. He couldn't feel pain—he only felt his heart chastising him to fight for you and his son.

"Because we want you back in our chess game, Jungkook-ah." Lee Sung's smirk grew big. "Jang Min-ssi said he needs you to play the king again."

Jungkook's eyes darkened. Meanwhile, a dangerous smile tugged at Lee Sung's lips as he raised his hand in the air, a small vial gripping his fist.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

You got home at around midnight. You weren’t in the mood to do anything anymore, but the guilt you nursed was becoming too much to bear.

"Mama will help you change your clothes, oki?" You picked up a pajama set from your son's drawer and helped him dress up. You usually soaked Soobin into a warm bath before going to bed. Unfortunately, you weren’t up for it tonight.

'I'm a bad mom,' your mind supplied unhelpfully. You felt as though you didn't deserve Soobin. You thought you had slowly forgotten how to care for your son as Jungkook did it on your behalf. 

Months of playing house with your bastard of best friend lifted half of your burden, but now that Jungkook wasn't around, you were starting to feel helpless.

Just where is that bastard?

Your eyes flicked to the wall clock. This was the first time Jungkook was home late. He didn't even tell you where he was going; he left early in the morning and excused himself for today's office work.

There was no point in stopping Jungkook. Admittedly, you were tiptoeing around him as you didn't want to pressure him into accepting the offer to work with you.

Tonight was the night Jungkook was meant to give his answer. However, You supposed that even a meticulous person like you sometimes went through some lapses.

"You've got your dates mixed up, Mam."  Lee Sung told you earlier this day. You went ahead to the office even without Jungkook. You went there with your son, though. You hoped Lee Sung could babysit Soobin while you went to dinner with Jungkook later.

Although you had reservations about Lee Sung, you couldn't deny that he was still a good babysitter, and Soobin seemed to like him. Your son never fussed and would sleep calmly in Lee Sung's arms.

It had been weeks since Lee Sung landed in Korea, but you refused to contact him. It felt weird being around him while Jang Min was thousands of miles away. You were not one to overthink, though you suspected that your boyfriend's assistant kept you under a hawk-like gaze and was reluctant to follow your requests unless Jang Min explicitly told him to oblige.

Today was one of the times when Lee Sung had explicit orders from his boss.

"Your dinner date with Jungkook-ssi is tomorrow. You're scheduled to meet up with the boss tonight."

"What?" You rubbed your ear as if that would help you understand what Lee Sung had just said.

Your boyfriend's assistant smirked. "Surprise! Boss Jang Min is back in Korea! He wants to see you first. He said there was no need for me to babysit Soobin-ah. He is very much welcome to join your date."

You should be over the moon. Your boyfriend, who you hadn't seen in months, was finally here. Regrettably, your mind was occupied with something else.

"But Jungkook..." You trailed off. You were sure you set up your date tonight. You even made a calendar invite about it so you wouldn't forget.

You were about to check your calendar, but Lee Sung folded down your laptop--an abrupt move that almost pinched your hands lingering on the keypad.

"Oops. Apologies, Mam~." Lee Sung sing-songed. "I've personally checked your schedule for this week. I have synced your calendar into mine for so long. Do you still doubt me, hmm?"

The pitiful look made Lee Sung look like a clown.  You visibly cringed; the thought of your dinner date with Jungkook vanished because of it.

"Okay, fine." You scowled. "I'm bringing Soobin to my date. Where and when should I meet Min-ah?"

"Wanna pick him up at the airport first?"

For some reason, You really didn't. But how could you do that to your lover? Ultimately, you agreed and spent hours on the road and waiting at the airport. You thought your uneasiness would clear once you came face to face with Jang Min. Surprisingly, you were still plagued by jitters.

"Hi." Jang Min kissed you on the mouth. He whispered a few sweet nothings to you before turning to look at Soobin, "Little one, I've something for you."

It was a Hot Wheels Elite 1:18 Scale Ferrari F40. Your eyes twitched. You looked at your boyfriend uncomfortably, "This is expensive. You shouldn't have."

It was wrong to say that to someone who had just given your son a gift. You knew as much. You were about to retract your statement when Jang Min shrugged.

"It's a simple gift, Cолнышко мо. You shouldn't habitually give those discount-store wonders for Soobin. It’s disgusting."

You were taken aback, and despite Soobin not understanding what Jang Min meant, you still wanted to cover your son's ears so he couldn't hear such a mean statement.

"Price doesn't matter to me, Min-ah." Your jaw tensed, your chin jutting.

Jungkook had some free time a few days ago and arranged a scavenger hunt for Soobin. You found it cute, prompting you to take videos and tell Jang Min all about the activity.

You had to admit that it was a cheap game. Jungkook spent 6,600 KRW on rewards he planned to give Soobin during the hunt. His grand prize was the most affordable brand of strawberry pudding, but your son thoroughly enjoyed it.

The game was a success. It honed Soobin's observation skills and exposed him to more physical activities. You participated in the game, too. Jungkook encouraged you with a teasing tone by saying, "Of course, you are welcome to join! You have the temper of a three-year-old. Ow! Don't hit me, such a meanie!"

"Don’t call me that, you piece of shit!" You snarled and hit Jungkook when Soobin wasn't looking.

Jungkook pouted.

"But you are mean, and you snarl like a wolf. Wolf has a good sense of smell; you can teach our pup how to hunt."

It was a feat to ignore your fluttering heart after that. ‘Our pup,’ Jungkook said. You couldn't control your emotions, so you gingerly shut your mouth and faked a hiss before turning to Soobin to brief him on how to play the game.

Overall, it was a fun experience. You won a prize because Jungkook hid an I.D. lace you were meant to find in the bushes. It had a simple design which you loved.

You have been going to your office these past days. The new lace helped because now you wouldn’t struggle to clip your I.D. on your clothes.

"Your old I.D pin is tacky. The new lace will make you a little less uncool."

"Shut the fuck up, bastard," You hissed.

Your playful banter continued, and you appreciated simple moments like this. You made up your mind not to let a mean comment from Jang Min get on your nerves.

Thankfully, Jang Min shrugged his shoulders, too jet-lagged to argue with you. You pushed through with your dinner date, though.

It was in a fancy restaurant Lee Sung had arranged. Soobin set aside his new car toy in favor of running around the place. You were in a private room, so no prying eyes darted on Soobin.

Unfortunately, you couldn't hear what Jang Min was discussing because of how loud Soobin was.

Gone were the days he sat still. Even Jang Min noticed this.

"Why'd he become so hyper suddenly?"

Your shoulder deflated. "I don't know."

It was the truth. You refused to say that the change started when Jungkook started babysitting Soobin, but Jang Min knew about it anyway.

"He's having too much fun with Jungkook-ssi, I supposed." Jang Min propped his chin on his palm as he called Soobin.

The child went near Jang Min at once. He batted his eyelashes at your boyfriend, earning a soft smile from Jang Min.

"Sleep?" Soobin asked obediently while Jang Min caressed his cheeks.

"Later, little one. You can play. Just don't be naughty."

Your heart softened at the sight. Jang Min and your son really did get along. However, you couldn't ignore the uncomfortable feeling in your chest:

You appreciated your boyfriend bonding with Soobin, but that's all to it. You found that you couldn't feel anything for Jang Min aside from gratefulness for trusting and caring for you and Soobin all this time.

"Min-ah." You muttered softly.

Jang Min told Soobin to play with Lee Sung before he turned to look at you. Your eyes looked as deep as the sea. Jang Min wanted to sail through it.

"What is it, Cолнышко мо?" Jang Min held your hand.

Months passed since you last touched him. You used to feel warm whenever your boyfriend's touch lingered on your skin. But now, there was nothing but coldness.

Jang Min's hands were damn cold. You tried to remember if it had always been like this. You didn't flinch now that Jang Min grabbed your hand, giving you a sense of familiarity that the coldness you felt was nothing new.

It was as if this winter feeling had been going on forever, and you simply thought that the cold water was warm since you had just gotten inside your home after being out in the snow.

"Cолнышко мо?”

You snapped your head up and met Jang Min's eyes. They're not chestnut brown—it didn't feel warm.

He wasn't Jungkook.

"Jang Min-ssi," Your chest heaved. You called your boyfriend's name with ragged breath.

Silence lapsed between you. Jang Min's white ushanka froze your heart more.

"I think we should break up."

It was said so suddenly. You gave no preamble, the paradoxical undressing phenomenon kicking inside you. It was your last straw before your feelings for Jang Min succumbed to hypothermia.

There was just no fire left to ignite your heart.

But Jang Min still held a match.

"You've had a long day, Cолнышко мо." The Russian man let go of your hand to signal the server to mind your bill, and then he casually wiped his mouth with a towel before indulgently looking back at you.

It's like Jang Min didn't hear or mind what you said.

"Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow. I only got home, too." He even made an excuse to shoot you down.

"No." But you couldn't wait anymore. You knew you were cruel, but every layer of your clothes begged to be shed. You were seconds away from dying out of the cold. "We—I have been postponing every serious conversation with you. I—"

You licked your lips and swallowed audibly, yet it wasn't enough to relieve your dry and aching throat.

You picked up your glass of wine and drank it in one go.

You looked at Jang Min guiltily.

"I can't anymore, Jang Min. I just..."

No silence or sugarcoating would lessen the abrupt guilt coating your heart.

You ripped off your last layer of winter clothes.

"I don't think I love you like that anymore." Or if I love(d) you at all.

Breaking the news of wanting to end your relationship was sudden, but the moments leading to it were not. You guessed it was partly your fault for ignoring the negative emotions you had felt for Jang Min over the past few months. Now, it was too late to fix them.

You were done. You couldn't fight even when a fraction of your mind told you so. Because if you loved Jang Min like your other half, you wouldn't feel nauseated at the thought of mending your broken relationship.

It's over.

You wanted to say more—to apologize to Jang Min for wasting his time, but you knew there was no point to that. It would just feel like slapping Jang Min in the face. Giving an excuse would only make you feel better. Jang Min wouldn't benefit at all.

"Alright." What was the use of a small matchbox when winter had come? Jang Min could only offer you a small smile. Not even you, who had been intimate with him, could decipher the quick curve of his lips.

"It's late. We should head home."

Jang Min insisted on bringing you back to his house. You were reluctant but agreed since you were with Soobin and didn't like driving while your son remained in the back seat alone. Besides, all of your things were under Lee Sung's care.

Lee Sung handed you your phone and wallet right after you entered the car. “Your phone’s dead.”

You shrugged. You didn’t have any important calls today, anyway.

"Thanks. Lee Sung-ssi--" You then offered your ex-boyfriend's assistant a genuine smile. It was the first time you attempted to be genuine to Lee Sung. "--For everything, especially for looking after Soobin."

"You make it sound like this is our last meeting, Mam." Lee Sung chuckled, oblivious that his boss was a single man now. "I know you got used to me driving you around, but don't get too sentimental on me. Tachihara's driving you home tonight, but we'll see each other soon. I just need to deal with a rat."

You were only being polite with Lee Sung. Frankly speaking, you didn't care what his agendas were. The word rat also left a bad taste in your mouth as you were reminded of your previous conversation with Jang Min. You didn't want to be rude, though—as your ex's calculating eyes were watching you. Soobin was also nuzzled in Jang Min's arms.

"Use your best trap, then." This was your farewell before shutting the car door close. You dared to look at Jang Min just to see his expression; for some reason, Jang Min's upper lips curved more.

The nauseating feeling clogged your throat again. You and Jang Min were done, so there was no need to give him the benefit of the doubt.

But you couldn't—afraid of what you’d know. You just did what you were good at: you pretended the uncomfortable feeling flooding your heart wouldn't drown you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

The rat was not caught in the trap because Jungkook freely trudged back to your apartment at one in the morning. He had dealt with Lee Sung, and only when he knew Lee Sung wouldn't harm his family did Jungkook decide to head home.

Jungkook was used to going back to a quiet home. Seeing Lee Sung tonight made him think he was back to his old life; this was why it shocked him to see you waiting for him.

"Welcome home, Kook." Your tone was lukewarm, masking all worries and guilt you harbored today because at least one thing was right:

Jungkook came back to you.

Sadly, Jungkook didn't seem too thrilled to see you. One look at your dropping eyes was enough for Jungkook to know you had an eventful night.

Jungkook sneered.

Jealousy was a little shit. Jungkook thought he was over it until he saw you smiling at him, acting like you didn't ditch him for the night.

Don't even get him started with your insincere concern. You had the most gentle smile when you welcomed Jungkook home, but it abruptly changed into an arched brow when you spotted the dried blood on Jungkook's skin.

"What happened to your hand?" You were alarmed, mindlessly crossing the distance between you two. Your rational thought disappeared as deep-seated fury and worry clouded your mind.

"Who hurt you?" You couldn't take it. The low grumble coming from your throat was akin to a wounded wolf.

Protect. You needed to protect Jungkook.

You seized your best friend’s wrist, chest tightening as an unbearable ache spread through your limbs.

There was a deep cut on Jungkook's palm, and God--you wanted nothing but to lick the wound and purr on Jungkook's neck. You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Breaking up with Jang Min wasn't an excuse to suddenly unleash your feelings for Jungkook.

But you were tired and pushed to your limits. Earlier, you wondered if you loved Jang Min at all. Now, the sinking feeling in your chest mocked and rejoiced as the thought of never getting over Jungkook overwhelmed your senses.

You found that the candle lighting your anger toward Jungkook was blown away—just as the darkness in your vision couldn't see and ignite the scorching type of love you once thought you felt toward Jang Min.

You heaved a deep breath.

Everything was too much and too little at once. Tears glistened in your eyes, but the lonely wolf inside of you was deprived of howling in the moon.

Jungkook pulled his hand away.

"What do you care if I got hurt?" His tone was scathing. Between the two of you, Jungkook held the burning lamp. He couldn't shake the image of you kissing another man, even though he knew it was irrational.

He hurt you first. But it didn't mean Jungkook turned into a fucking rock that wouldn't be shaken at seeing the love of his life get taken away.

Jungkook no longer felt human. Unfortunately, he still had his flesh and blood. His body tingled and felt like it was subjected to the fire after being in the frying pan for a long time. He was hurting, and masking his vulnerability didn't work anymore. Jungkook, in the face of the moon, finally bared his broken heart.

"Is that all you got? Pretending to care when you didn't even have the decency to tell me you're not coming to our planned dinner?"

A sharp edge to Jungkook's tone made your breathing hitch. The last time Jungkook acted this way was when you underestimated his venture with Oda. You never thought you’d see this side of Jungkook again. You got used to having the upper hand.

But you couldn't deny that you were in the wrong now.

"Fuck." You cussed, eyes widening as you struggled to keep your hands to yourself. You wanted to hold onto Jungkook, afraid that he'd bolt. "I—Jungkook, I didn't..."

Didn't what? Didn't know that Lee Sung messed up? That you blindly followed Jang Min’s assistant’s claim when you should have known better?

You felt stupid.

Jungkook was wearing the suit you bought for him. You could also tell that your best friend had blow-dried his hair earlier, as it had a more prominent curl at the end. Jungkook was probably nervous but sucked it up because you promised him a good time. You weren’t blind. You might not know what answer Jungkook would give, but you knew it took him much courage to be there.

Jungkook was never one to show up. He was a bolter, for fuck's sake. And the one time he didn't run away was also the time you made him wait in vain.

I'm sorry You liked to say. Unfortunately, the words were stuck in your throat.

Jungkook took in your expression. You looked constipated—as if acknowledging your mistake would be the end of the world.

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head.

"Whatever." He turned away. "You've always been like this, anyway."

That did the trick. You snapped out of your reverie. You looked at Jungkook as if he had offended your ancestors.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

But Jungkook wasn't looking at you anymore. He was walking toward his bedroom—as if he wanted nothing but to shut off the world.

You didn't think so. Jungkook had every right to pout, but he couldn't get away from accusing you of some bullshit. What did Jungkook mean you had always been like this!? Weren’t you the one who returned to Incheon after Jungkook and Jisoo stomped at your heart!?

"I'm talking to you, asshole!" You were about to forcefully grab the bastard's hand when Jungkook suddenly turned to you.

Your bodies bumped. You trembled when you felt Jungkook's hot, staggered breathing fanning your cheek.

Silence clouded the room, both your chests heaving.

The rim of Jungkook's eyes was red. He unconsciously nuzzled his nose against your cheek. You held back a flinch, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage.

Jungkook's heart wasn't doing any better. He wanted to claw it out and stomp it until it became a mess. This way, he wouldn’t feel anything anymore.

But that wasn't possible now, was it? Jungkook didn’t want his emotions to overwhelm him, but he didn’t think he could ever let go of the high he got from feeling the warmth of your skin.

You were addicting. It was easy to fall for you, making Jungkook think that what you two had was salvageable.

It wasn't. He made a mistake before, and you made a conscious decision to hurt Jungkook in return.

Jungkook took a step back. He could almost hear your silent protest. It made Jungkook want to pull his hair out.

You two really were fucked up. You both wanted to let go of each other, but neither wanted to unclench your fingers.

Jungkook sighed. He looked at you with resentment and defeat in his eyes.

"You never answered my letters."

Apologizing for your mistake was hard, but apologizing when you didn’t know what you did wrong was impossible.

"What letters?" Your mouth parted in confusion; a deep crease formed on your forehead. You had no idea what Jungkook was talking about.

Jungkook sniffed.

“Jungkook, what letters?” An unberable sense of panic shot through your body. It didn't help that your best friend looked hopeless.

Jungkook didn’t know where to start. All of this was fucked up. He just wanted to--

“I was in prison for years." –let it out. Jungkook broke the news to you as he took out a folded paper in the pocket of his dress shirt. “I sent you hundreds of letters from there, but you never responded.”

The paper was shoved into your chest. You panickily gripped it, scared Jungkook would snatch the paper. You had a feeling that this piece of paper contained the truth you had been craving all this time.

“I was going to accept your proposal, but I didn’t want to base our relationship on a lie.” Jungkook was doing well in trying to steady his voice. “I wanted to come clean to you. I wanted you to know that I paid half of my sins inside that shitty hole.”

You gasped lowly, too stunned to speak.

Jungkook had the urge to laugh because wasn’t it funny? He was just cradling his anger at you for making him wait in vain, but now he was forced to retreat again--to clip his claw and pretend it didn't hurt. How could he ever stand a chance against you when he was deemed as the evil one from the very start? As if making a mistake robbed him of feeling things—like he wasn’t allowed to start over again?

Jungkook didn’t know how to redeem himself anymore. He apologized to you for taking this long to tell him the truth.

“I…” You trailed off. You couldn’t meet Jungkook’s eyes. You were retreating, too.

Jungkook should have seen this coming--

“I..I need to process this.”

--and he had. 

You were forced to be fed with information. You had no chance to chew them, so now you choked. 

Jungkook clenched his jaw, forced to pacify himself to accept this. It’s okay, he told himself, because what else was he supposed to do aside from watching you crawl back to your room?

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

Jungkook paced back and forth in the living room before standing before your bedroom door.

4:02AM. It had been hours since you last confronted each other. You said you needed to process the information slapped to your face, but you didn’t say how long.

Jungkook couldn’t help but probe. He knocked on your door once.

There was no answer from the other side of the room.

Inhale, Jungkook commanded himself before trying again.

This time, he used his voice: he called your name.

Jungkook had known you for years and understood that you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the intense stimulation you had experienced. He was proven right when he pressed his ear to the door and heard you stirring on the other side.

Jungkook's breath caught in his throat, a sudden intake of air filling his lungs, but he didn’t choke. 

He felt relieved. You were listening to him.

Jungkook couldn’t waste his chance. He set aside his feelings in the hope of making this right. 

You slowly sat on the floor while listening to your best friend speak. You were glad you couldn’t see Jungkook’s face, as that would prompt you to break down and cry.

“You said you need to process everything, but will you listen to me?”

Your lips were pursed, yet you rested your head on the door.

Jungkook let out a breath, “Being in prison should have been the first thing I told you, but I…”

There was silence. Jungkook forced himself to continue.

“I was scared. When you told me about Soobin, I didn’t know what to do with him. I…” 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“I didn’t want him,” Jungkook said. 

Tears cascaded down your cheek, your fear materializing in the form of Jungkook’s soft tone but venomous words. You hated yourself for wanting to continue listening to him. Your treacherous mind was making you feel as if there was more to Jungkook’s story—that this wasn’t the time to snarl and hate him for feeling things.

“Soobin is my baggage, and he’s so, so heavy. He is a reminder of the things I have to carry with me wherever I go.”

Stop. Don’t say that to my child.

“But he isn’t like that anymore. Soobin is not a thing. He’s not a baggage. He’s my…”

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he puffed out his chest. “He’s my heart.” As he is yours. 

“I understand if you want me gone. I kept the truth from you. You are a mother. I know you wouldn’t want your son to be associated with an ex-convict like me.” Jungkook said this as if he was sure there was no room for any other opinion. Jungkook did not regard himself highly—or even as a human after he fell from grace. It didn’t even occur to him to keep his anger to you. He cared more about what you would feel after knowing the truth. His own feelings be damned.

“But…” Jungkook clenched his hands into determined fists. “Please know that I won’t leave. Not unless you told me to.”

Your head snapped up, but you soon wiped your tears and pressed your ears on the door, thinking you could hear Jungkook say that again. Did you get it right? Was Jungkook really telling you he wouldn’t leave?

“I made the mistake of hurting and pushing you away. I am still living with the consequences of that. I don’t mind. I can pay for it for as long as you want, but I refuse to want to die because of it.”

Jungkook had wished for nothing but death since he messed up his life. However, he was done with that part of him. He said Soobin was his heart, but that was a lie. You and Soobin served as his heart—his family kept him going:

You and Soobin pumped blood into Jungkook’s veins.

Wanting to die was easy. It was his wish, but… “From now on, I will live for you and Soobin.”

Jungkook rubbed his face against the door, hoping you could somehow feel his sincerity. He wished to see you and look at your eyes as deep as the sea. Jungkook wanted to drown in them.

“I will be here,” Jungkook repeated. “For as long as you will take me.”

There was no response from you, but Jungkook didn’t mind. He simply closed his eyes, wishing that when the sun rose, you would find it in yourself to take him back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

A/N: the fourth pic in the book cover finally made sense. Please look forward to Jungkook's life in prison soon ~~

I don't know when the next chapter will come out since starting next week, I am officially joining a new team in the office. Your girl is a fixed asset accountant or somethin' haha. Please wish me luck <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can you please write 3, 8 & 9 from your trope list prompts for EJ? 🙈

Prompts 3 8 and 9 w/ Eyeless Jack

i have a thing keeping track of what characters have what prompts done and i just noticed ej is the only crp to have anything from the trope lists done LMAO prompts: first kiss, mutual pining, drunken confession notes: reader is gn, short post, heavy on admins hc of jack having a barely controlled hunger for blood (this will be relevant i promise), jack actually hates himself and that's going to come in during the confession prompt-- that's right chat we are adding a twist to the confession prompt 😈 cws: mentions of canon typical violence and gore, mentions of jacks whole eating people thing, alcohol mentions, technically he stalks you but hes making sure you get home safely but warning just in case LMAO

FIRST KISS

It's going to take a while for an actual first kiss to happen- even him kissing you in the hands or cheek take a while. He treats himself like a shark when in reality, his hunger for flesh isn't bad enough to make him go into a frenzy at the sight of blood.... most of the time, at least

Your first kiss is really short and fleeting, it's hardly a peck but it's a huge step forward for the future

He's so so careful about his teeth so he doesn't nip you- even if his appetite has been satiated he doesn't want to cut you up on accident

MUTUAL PINING

He's sworn off contact with most if not all the people in his life- he is... completely isolated by his own doing. For both his safety and for those around them- one can only control their ravenous taste for flesh for so long

But he's found himself infatuated with you for no clear reason- he doesn't typically go out and "hunt" in the streets but sometimes there aren't enough idiots stumbling too close to the woods or driving dark lonely roads... you were actually originally meant to be picked off for him to eat- but somewhere along the way his guilt kicked in. You're just a person. You haven't done anything to warrant your life to be ended, there are far worse people who are more deserving of the fate jack can give them... people who may or may not serve as a threat to you... hes... taken to watching you from the side to take down anyone who may have ill intent

And you've noticed and mistaken him for a guardian- completely unaware of his original plan with you

It... may not be the best start but it does lead to the two of you properly entering each other's lives, even if jack tries to back track to keep you safe

DRUNKEN CONFESSION

He's the one who gets drunk. He doesn't drink often, in fact he actively avoids it when he knows you're going to be around. Not only does it make him more unpredictable in his actions and hunger, but it also makes him... more open...

He's not a crier even when drunk but there's a profound sadness and self hatred that makes itself known as he leans away from you and mutters about how yours better off (and safer) without him... his words are laced with venom but they're no aimed at you

He loves you, he says it himself and he blames himself for what hasn't even happened yet- but he's so convinced that he will end up tearing you apart

The admission comes out so casually that you mistake him for being sober for a moment until the smell of the alchohol on his breath hits you

There isn't much you can do in the moment but you do make a mental note to bring it up when he's no longer wasted- and hopefully after the hangover subsides

[geonwooz]

♡ KICK YOU OR KISS YOU — HONG WOOJIN

bf!woojin x fem!reader | wc : 0.4k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint, alcohol consumption, woojin being drunk + a flirt

“i’ve been contemplating for a while, and i don’t know whether to feel bad for you or not.”

gunwoo chuckled, looking away as you turned to him with a playful glare.

“well, hi there, pretty,” woojin greeted, a drunken smile on his face. “do you have a band-aid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”

you looked at gunwoo, furrowing your brows as he stifled a laugh. “gunwoo, stop encouraging him!” you whined, covering your face, as you saw woojin open his mouth again to drop another cringy pickup line.

“they say kissing is a language of love.” woojin paused, leaning his face closer to yours. “so, would you like to start a conversation with me?”

“wow, that’s actually a good one,” gunwoo commented, raising his hands in surrender upon making eye contact with you. “look, i gotta give him credit for where he deserves it.”

“kim gunwoo, i will end you with my own hands. i swear, i-”

“don’t blame me! i’m just amused at how woojin-hyung is flirting with his own girlfriend.”

it was true. you and woojin had been dating for a few years now, yet his drunken habit remained the same: flirting with you as he was seeing you for the first time.

a startled gasp pulled you out of your thoughts, turning towards a surprised woojin.

“girlfriend?! you are my girlfriend?!” he asked, getting a nod from you. “wow, i can’t believe you are dating me. i’ve hit the lotto,” he muttered, pleasantly surprised.

you shook your head, chuckling as you moved towards the bar, getting a drink to help you deal with your boyfriend.

drunk woojin was never troublesome, but his pickup lines sure took a toll on the remaining brain cells you had.

your alone time was cut short as woojin and gunwoo sat beside you, one of them mustering the best flirty smile he could offer, while the other just looked happy to be there.

you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the next line woojin was about to hit you with.

“i just thought i should let you know that i’m usually on top of things; would you like to be one of them, perhaps?”

a quiet gasp left your lips at his suggestive line, wondering where in the world he had gotten that from. and seeing gunwoo’s face, you could tell he was surprised by the suggestiveness too.

"i really don't know if i should kick you off a bridge because you are annoying or kiss you because you are sickeningly adorable when drunk."

"why kick me when you can kiss me, pretty? you can't resist this. i’m too charming for my own good.”

TAGLIST :: @missscarlettangel (TO BE ADDED, PLEASE COMMENT, SEND AN ASK OR DM!)