#this doesnt really have smut in it but whatever

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: thanks for the love on part 1 – the longer messages ive gotten have been so nice! i hope this 2nd part doesnt disappoint!!

Wordcount: 5.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Another little thing. Cute until it wasn’t.

“You can’t be serious, oh my God,” you heard loud complaints coming from the door mat after the door slammed shut. You pushed yourself further into Joe’s sofa in a bad attempt to hide yourself away, because you knew exactly what was coming.

“In my flat?”

The endless bickering over the thermostat was another little thing to be swept under the rug.

Dramatic loud footsteps came closer at rapid speed. When you looked up from your toasty cosy little comfy spot on his sofa, you saw Joe barge in, losing his coat as he was walking, straight over to where the thermostat was.

“In my fucking flat?!” he made eye-contact, facial expression wild as he kept walking, arms moving to take his sweatshirt off next.

There was a small chance that the deep frown would quickly make way for a cheeky grin. Sometimes, it did.

“It’s like a fucking sauna in here– twenty-four degrees?!”

But the cheeky grin never came.

Which was honestly a real shame, because Joe’s hair had gotten all ruffled up from the sweater he just pulled over his head, and when he turned to look at you with a hand already going ham on the minus button, you couldn’t help the laugh that startled out of you.

“Unbelievable. Unacceptable. She can’t be seriou–” Joe turned the heating down to a much more reasonable, in his opinion, eighteen and a half degrees Celsius.

You couldn’t help the cackling at Joe’s outrage. He’d pulled half his T-shirt up when he’d discarded layers, and you were given a lovely view of his bare lower back. Everything about your view was lovely, and had one of your friends been there, you would’ve both laughed at him. Or, at least, given each other secret smirks.

Joe then turned around and looked at you, face set in a deep frown, and said, “You cannot be serious, how is this comfortable to you? It’s absolutely boiling in here, like I just stepped off of a plane in fucking, I don’t know, fucking New Delhi, or whatever.”

He then strode across the room to open a window, to which you finally spoke up.

“No! Not the window, it’s so windy out–” before you could finish your sentence, Joe cut you off with a loud, “It feels like an oven in here!”

The window got opened anyway.

“No, oh my God, it’s subzero out there!” you emerged from your cocoon of blankets where you’d sat nestled into the corner of Joe’s sofa to climb over the back of it in an attempt to fight Joe and close the window.

“Feel my hands!” you got your hands on him, grabbed his T-shirt whilst still half on the sofa, feet digging into the seat.

“No!”

“Joe, feel my– here, feel them, feel my fingers!” you managed to shove a cold hand into his neck that made him yelp.

And sure, the wrestling that followed after where you got shoved back onto the sofa as Joe forced you back onto it was cute.

The loud, “What the fuck, your body is broken!” that came from him as you put both your hands under his T-shirt whilst giggling was cute.

It was cute that Joe then went, “Come here!” and would wrap himself all around to let his body warm you. The endless days under the covers, bodies tightly entangled just because you’d shiver out of your own skin with the heating off was cute. Chattering your teeth together, lips going fucking purple after a shower, the cold air making your wet hair feel even colder against your skin was cute, because then Joe’d be like, “Let’s get you toasty.” before wrapping the both of you up in a throw blanket on the sofa which was cute.

You’d even argue it was cute that Joe’d find you standing in front of the oven after he’d made dinner, catching the warm air as the whole thing cooled down with the door open, and instead of making fun of you, he’d join you there, hugging you from behind so you got warmed up from either side.

But cute had an expiration date.

The cuddling started becoming a task.

The never-ending secret fiddling with the thermostat became really fucking annoying.

It was all cute, until suddenly, it wasn’t anymore.

It was cute until you couldn’t even use your phone in his living room because your fingers hurt.

Sort of cute until your shoulders were sore from pulling them up against your ears for hours straight.

Until Joe started making comments about you paying his gas bill because every time you were over, you’d complain about frozen toes until he would turn the heating up a little.

Until Joe started yelling at you when you would turn and leave the heating on, even if you weren’t in, because you didn’t want to come home to a freezing flat.

Until Joe would yell at you for leaving the heating on in your own flat.

It was one of those things that had eventually added to all the absolute shit that your relationship had become and why, ultimately, you had decided to step out.

The forever, why is it fucking boiling in here coming from him, and the forever, I’m cold, are you cold? coming from you became something that got swept under the rug until you tripped over the hump it left there.

Just another little thing. Cute until you started wondering if it ever even really was…

It’s cold.

Not quite freezing, but definitely cold. It’s thick-coat-warm-scarf kind of cold, but in the sun it’s nice. You need sunglasses to be able to read the words on the pages in front of you, it’s so bright, but this is your favourite type of autumn weather, and the spot you’ve found is just perfect.

Sitting outside, you let your fingers be warmed by a drink and get to enjoy London the way you like best; surrounded by hustle and bustle, but hidden away in your own little world as you let your mind be fully consumed by the book you’re reading.

This is nice.

You almost like it more than going for a coffee with a friend.

Just a little bite of something. A little sip of something else. A couple of pages of plot. Sun on your face.

It’s nice.

You are completely unsure what prompts you to look up, but you do, and you can’t quite believe yourself when you notice Joe walk past.

What the fuck?

You could’ve looked up from your reading at any other time. Could’ve gone for a sip of your drink at any other given moment.

Could’ve missed him.

Should’ve missed him.

But you didn’t. Of course you didn’t. You notice him as he strides past, and he seemingly doesn’t see you. He’s gone before you even get to think about saying hi. Of letting him know that he’s just walked past his ex-girlfriend who, not too long ago, invited him into her bed even though she was seeing someone then.

Was.

It’s fine. He wasn’t right for you, and waking up to Joe still asleep on your side of the bed only confirmed those early doubts.

You suppress a smile at the coincidence of seeing Joe on this random afternoon and hide one hand in between your crossed thighs to warm it as you get back into your book.

However, you barely get the chance to.

About a minute in, you notice him from the corner of your eye, walking past again.  The other way this time, and he’s sort of squinting at something further up ahead of him, like the sun is making it really hard for him to see something.

Is this man lost?

You follow Joe’s line of sight, but nothing really stands out, and before you know it, he’s out of earshot and swallowed up by the other pedestrians.

Feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve said hi. You saw him walk past twice. It’s fine that you didn’t, you don’t have to say hi, but, it definitely feels a little weird.

You give the paragraph in front of you another go, but this time, you can’t even make it to the end of the first sentence before you recognise the outfit in your peripheral vision.

Joe walks past again, but real fucking slow this time.

You just move your eyes to check what his legs are doing, not moving otherwise, and then, two steps past your table, he stops and you hear him mumble something. You look up a little more to see how he pretends to check a watch that he’s not wearing before he turns around again to walk back the way he came, and finally, you understand what’s happening.

Joe has seen you.

And this is him trying to catch your attention.

You scoff a silent laugh into your book, let it double you over a little because, this is really fucking ridiculous, isn’t it?

A few steps down the pavement, Joe turns one last time, and then, without saying a word, walks over and comes to sit down next to you. Just, takes the other seat at your table without even looking at you.

You’re openly staring at him now, confused at what the fuck he’s doing. Joe leans forward, a little over to you, to fish a paperback that looks like it’s seen better days from a large coat pocket. Then a hand disappears into his other pocket, and he dumps everything from inside onto the table; his phone, an earphone case, his smoking things.

You wonder if Joe had seen you that first time he walked past.

Or if maybe he’d already walked past before you’d noticed him.

Wouldn’t surprise you.

You watch how Joe settles. Sits back in his seat with a loud grumbling exhale, opens his book, and finds the page where he’d left off. He’s not looked at you once.

You tut and shake your head, but that smile is there to stay.

Idiot.

You give that same stupid first line of that same stupid paragraph another read, but your head’s not with it. You’re waiting for Joe to say something. Your eyes are scanning words but you’re reading absolutely nothing.

Then, just like you predicted, you hear a very soft ahem coming from beside you.

You turn your head to look at him, and find him looking at you through narrowed eyes.

Could be from the sun. It’s very bright.

“It’s really unfair for you to be here.”

But no. It’s aimed at you.

“Um…” you start, already beyond offended. “What do you mean unfair?”

“Well,” Joe uses large gestures to place his book on the table with a little too much force. “My afternoon plans were to go and sit out here by myself and read a few pages, but now,” Joe motions around, makes a funny face and finishes, “You’re here.”

You laugh.

“My apologies.”

“Had to walk past six times before she even sees me. Very unfair.” Joe scolds playfully and makes you laugh again.

A waitress shows up and asks if she can get you anything, and for a short moment, the two of you look at each other. Then Joe says, “She’ll have another one, and I’ll take the same. Can we see a menu?” without breaking eye-contact with you, and, Jesus Christ.

Then, to be polite, he quickly looks at the waitress, says “Thanks.” with a show-stopping smile and you can see the effect it has on her.

This guy’s a charmer.

The waitress smiles, says, “Yes, of course!” and leaves, and just like that, stupid smirks are shared over a small table that’s perfectly placed out of the wind and in the direct sunlight. You both have books, and then warm drinks get brought out, and it’s silently decided that you’ll be here for a little while to share each other’s quiet company.

Joe ends up ordering a couple of bites he can share, things he knows you like, so even if you weren’t planning on eating, he knows that if he gives a plate a little push you’ll go for a little something. You feel a weird joy inside of your chest because you’re single right now and so this time around there’s no hidden guilt about spending a little time with Joe in public.

You don’t give a shit if someone sees you.

You were there first.

Joe joined you.

If word got back to Emily, you’d still have to do some explaining, but… you’re not doing anything illegal, you know?

“What are you anxious for?” Joe suddenly speaks up after you’ve been trying to wrestle your way down a page. “Are you meeting someone? Have I just ruined–”

“I’m not anxious.” You cut him off.

Joe’s eyes flick down to where you’re scratching your thumb nail over the ribbed hem of your jumper that you’ve pulled over your hands, fingers half hidden inside the sleeves, the frayed edge giving away how often you do that.

He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around your wrist and you only realise then what he means. You drop your shoulders and force yourself to relax.

You keep forgetting Joe knows things about you.

“I’m not meeting someone.” You then confirm, because there’s no one else to meet, but you’re surprised at how sweet the words come out of your mouth.

You’re giving yourself away.

Letting yourself be read too easily.

Oh God, reel it in already, you’re embarrassing yourself.

Wait.

Does Joe have someone else to meet?

Is he dating someone? Or, and this is actually the question that needs to be asked: does someone out there think they’re dating him? Has he been acting a certain way with someone where that’s the idea he’s left them with?

Presumably not; those fingers wrapped around your wrist far too easily for a hand that belong to someone taken.

Still, you aren’t sure.

You know what he’s like.

Plus, you hadn’t been single the last time this happened, and your hands had been places they shouldn’t have even come remotely close to, so you’re not sure how much hand-placement even really matters.

“Just me, today.” You add to clarify, going for a sip of your drink.

“Good.” Joe smiles, eyes back in his book, and you feel a little warmer inside.

Might be the sun. You’ve been sitting in it for a while.

“Got you all to myself then?” Joe checks, making sure.

Okay so it’s not the sun.

“No weird fake gym date you’ll try to convince me you need to go to?”

You bite your tongue, do your best to hide your smile.

“That wasn’t fake, I really was going to–”

“Yea, all right. Sure.” Joe’s still got his eyes in his book. Turns a page even though you very well know he’s not fucking read a single word since he sat down.

Your jaw drops in a gasp. “I was!” You lower your volume mid-outburst, because just when you hear how loud you are you remember you’re in public.

Joe glances up at you, and he’s just all cheek. Big brazen schoolboy smile and twinkling mischievous eyes, so fucking pleased with himself for working you up just enough for you to be embarrassed about.

And he keeps up the cheek.

Sits silently next to you, supposedly reading his book, but instead he just looks at you for ages, and then when you finally look back to ask him what the fuck he’s staring at, he goes, “What?” like you’re the one that has been staring.

Pushes a plate of bites a little over to you so you reach for some, only to then scoff when you do, muttering, “Rude.” under his breath.

Asks the waitress for the bill and adds, “She’s got it.” before turning to you and telling you he’s just going to go to the toilet real quick. You roll your eyes, sort of smiling as the waitress politely makes a joking comment before she goes after him to fetch the bill. Then, about three minutes later he steps out and goes, “Okay let’s go.” and it turns out he’s already paid for everything inside.

Goes, “No, this way,” with a nod of his head when you stand up to leave and want to head home, and for a moment you’re like, Joe, like he needs reminding that you’re actually no longer together as a couple, but he just goes, “Come on.” and holds a grabby hand out behind his back as he starts walking, waiting for you to come take hold of it, like you’re the one that’s being silly.

And... you are.

Because you then just… follow him.

Easily grab hold of his hand.

Easily let yourself be lead over to his flat.

Easily remember the route he takes, which busy places you avoid and which roads to cross when.

Easily fall into random conversations about, hey remember that one time that we had dinner at this restaurant and they tried to feed us raw chicken? they’ve got a new owner and it’s actually nice now, as you walk together and you almost forget that this dynamic isn’t normal.

It’s not normal to ignore every little thing that was wrong in your relationship. Every little thing that made you decide that you actually wanted out. Needed out.

But you suppose that, with the way Joe’s acting, it sort of is a little normal for you to feel the way you do.

It’s a little normal you no longer want to think about sides of beds, of the lack of communication, of the schedule issues, and the time management problems…

It’s easy to want to forget, and so… you do.

You decide to forget and so you do.

That is, until Joe opens his front door and says, “You’re going to love what I did with the place.” as you’re about to step inside. Before you even get the chance to laugh at his joke, because everything is exactly as you remembered it, you mutter, “Jesus fucking Christ!”. You swear you can see your own breath it’s so cold. “How the fuck is it colder in here than it is outside? You’ve got south facing windows!”

“Oh Jesus.” Joe remembers.

“You live like this!” You say with huge bulging eyes, like it’s the most outrageous thing ever, but Joe just smiles and hangs up his coat before he uses both hands to start undoing the buttons of yours.

“I was out.” He says, fighting your hands that try to keep your coat done up. “The heating’s off right now, so yes, it’s a little cold at the minute–”

“A little cold?”

“But!” he shuts you up. “I’ll turn the heating on now that I’m back and it’ll be warm in no time.”

You allow Joe to undo all the buttons.

Allow him to help you take the coat off completely.

Allow him to find the thermostat before you do.

Allow him to make a joke about how you live in a tropical climate and how you live like that in your tone of voice.

And then he asks if no one else ever complains about that. Because, surely, they must.

“Or did you find someone whose got the same biological inability to keep themselves warm?”

“No,” you huff a laugh as you pull your sleeves over your hands and cross your arms tightly over your frame .

“No? Jasper not giving you a hard time over it?”

You’ve never said his name was Jasper. His name’s not Jasper.

“No one is giving me a hard time about anything, thanks.” You bite back, and for a moment, Joe stops and looks at you.

Really looks.

Reads you.

You do your very best to look back and remain all casual, like you’re not afraid that Joe is able to read every single thought that pops up just as quickly as it vanishes in your brain.

You’re in Joe’s flat and, truly, you have no real reason to be there right now.

“Wow.” Joe then softly says, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “How long did that last?”

He steps away from the thermostat, walks over to the fridge, and you can see how he’s only set it to 19 degrees. That barely counts as warm.

“Um. Mind your business.” You say, already walking over to change it. Set it to 23 degrees, or whatever.

Joe doesn’t need to know how you embellished how serious you’d been with this other man. This other someone. He’d only been around for a couple of weeks. A few months at best. Hadn’t even come close to meet any of your family – not even any of your friends, really. Emily had only seen him because she’d dropped by unexpectedly on a random afternoon.

“What did he do that you didn’t like?” Joe peeps his head around the fridge door, quickly adds, “Don’t set it higher than 20.”

“I won’t.” you lie, pushing the little plus button until it says 22 and try your best to ignore Joe’s question.

If there’s one thing you don’t want to do, it’s talk to your ex-boyfriend about this other guy that doesn’t even really deserve that label.

But Joe doesn’t let it go so easily.

“What was the thing that made you convince yourself that this guy wasn’t worth it?”

Oh, ouch.

What the fuck.

From the thermostat you give him a hard stare, one that he truly deserves because look at that stupid smug face, and then you dryly say, “I’m gonna set it to 30.” before furiously pressing that same plus button as quickly as you can.

Joe barks a loud laugh and you manage to get the thermostat up to 25.5 before a whole body grabs hold of yours.

A scuffle breaks out in the middle of Joe’s living room and you kind of love how tightly Joe’s wrapped himself around you. Kind of love how you bend back and forth, and how Joe just bends with you. How you shriek for him to let you go, and how he swears at you under his breath. How instead of letting you go he just holds on tighter. How he breathes in your ear as he squeezes the giggles from your frame. How you get pushed onto the sofa, and then, you kind of love how his face being so close to yours suddenly changes the air somehow.

Joe’s lying right on top of you.

Your noses are nearly touching.

Giggles die out, and with twin smiles, Joe lets his eyes scan your face for a moment.

You swallow thickly and try to ignore how quick your heartbeat’s picking up.

“This warming you up?”

You bite your lip and give your head a little shake as an answer.

“No? You need a little more?”

And this is where you should tell Joe to get off of you.

Where you should walk back over to Joe’s front door and put your coat back on.

Be the adult in the room and tell him it was nice chatting to him but, maybe it’s best if you go home, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll end up naked in his bed with body parts inside of other body parts which have no business being even remotely close to each other with clothes on, let alone without any.

Yet instead, you nod.

You smile and you nod, and it’s all Joe needs to lower his face and to make his lips meet yours.

Joe kisses you and it’s stupidly sensual. He gets your top lip between both of his and pulls away just slightly before he gets your bottom one. You can feel his teeth, and then his tongue, and you’re hesitant for just a moment, but then Joe goes to pull away fully because he wants to say something, but he can’t, because you get your hands on either side of his face and just pull him back in for more.

More.

You need more.

You’ve not been giggling at all Joe’s bad flirting for you to not get more.

Before you know it, you’re not just kissing, but you’re making out, and it’s all tongue and all teeth and hands all over, and it feels like the kiss has broken the seal because suddenly, you want all of it. Everything. His hands everywhere. Your hands everywhere. His mouth all over your body and your mouth tasting all of his.

You want his body parts inside of yours.

Need it.

Right this very second.

“Bed?” Joe gasps with his nose pressed to your jaw, and all you manage to do is give a barely-there nod.

Two arms pull you to sit up. Pull you to stand up. And Joe kisses you again like he just can’t help himself before he goes, “Wait.” and then goes to turn the thermostat down and you can’t help but smack his ass as you walk past and rush into his bedroom.

You’re not doing anything illegal.

You’re single, and it seems like Joe is too, so you’re fine.

It’s even colder in Joe’s bedroom if anyone can believe that, and you audibly shiver as you toe off your shoes which makes Joe laugh as he joins you there, says, “Quick!” and he grabs a corner of his duvet and holds it up for you to climb into his bed.

And you do.

Just get in without second thought.

Hide how you’re a little startled by how much you fucking love the scent of Joe’s bed, because what the fuck, that’s a weird reaction to have to the smell of a bed. But you love Joe’s bed, and love his luxurous down comforter, and love the loud crinkles as it moves, and love the way all of it smells.

What follows is you undressing underneath the covers, throwing pieces of your outfit at Joe who is getting out of his own clothes by the foot of the bed as he catches and dodges whatever you throw at him. It’s a weird dance of fabric and laughter until he jumps and launches himself right onto you. Joe kisses you some more, mouths remembering each other, before he works his way into bed with you.

The skin-to-skin contact heats you up quick enough to make you blush.

And remember how Joe said it was unfair that he ran into you that afternoon?

Well it just so turns out that it’s actually unfair that Joe remembers everything about your body.

That he knows you.

Knows what you like.

He gets his hand around the back of your neck, fingers pushed into those very specific spots as he presses his forehead to yours and does everything else just exactly right.

Exactly how you fucking like it.

It’s unfair that Joe knows exactly what to do, knows that if he touches you right for just long enough, you’ll get into the headspace where you’ll actually push to get your mouth on him. He knows how to get you to be so into it, you’ll just voluntarily disappear underneath his covers. Know how you won’t want to come back up until you’re forcefully pulled back into the cold air where you’ll be kissed until you lose your breath.

God, Joe’s so fucking good at kissing, it makes you want to live in his bed forever. You know you can’t – Joe’s phone keeps buzzing in his jeans that are somewhere on his bedroom floor, but, Jesus, you really fucking want to.

For whatever reason, the buzzing of his phone only adds to the excitement.

It shouldn’t.

But it does.

At least, for about fifteen minutes it does.

Then, the buzzing finally seems to stop. Finishes. And it’s not much later that you do too.

You’re wet with sweat and spit from kisses, skin left tingling and mind blissed out. When you turn your head to look at Joe, he’s lying on his back, catching his breath with his eyes closed and you can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you.

“Go pee,” Joe says, motioning towards the bathroom with his eyes still closed, and you grin because, Joe knows you.

It’s still really cold in his bedroom, but he’s right, you do have to pee, so you quickly do as you’re told and it’s unfair how you can’t help your stupid grin from spreading when Joe calls, “And hurry up!” after you.

It’s unfair how fast reality finds you. How darting into his bathroom on your own sobers you enough to think, what the fuck am I doing?

It’s unfair how you have to look into the bathroom mirror and tell yourself, you’re not doing anything illegal.

It’s unfair how you don’t really believe it.

It’s unfair that this isn’t only unfair to you, but also to Joe, and probably to whoever else was trying to reach him whilst he had you in his bed.

Unfair that you can’t shake the feeling of how what you’ve just done actually feels incredibly illegal, because a phone only buzzes that much if someone is wanted elsewhere.

When you get back to Joe’s bedroom you see that he’s made no attempt to get his phone, and he’s quick to welcome you back into his coccoon of warmth.

“I probably should leave,” you say, but climb back into bed anyway.

It makes sense that Joe is wanted elsewhere. Makes sense that he probably isn’t actually single at the minute. That there’s someone.

Joe isn’t yours, you have to remind yourself. And if you are honest, you don’t even really know if you want him to be.

“Yea probably…” Joe trailed off, reaching arms over to pull you into his side. “But I’m not done with you yet. C’mere.”

But you do know you feel far too comfortable to resist his cuddling.

“Joe, you’ve got someone waiti–”

“Shh.”

He pulls until you are laying right on top of him, both his arms holding you exactly where he wants you. You want to make a joke, a snide comment, remind him of how cuddling used to be too much of a task. But then he says,

“She can wait.”

She.

Definitely not single, then.

Somehow, that feels good and bad at once. Good because that means this was just a quick thing that would remain just that, like it had before. Bad because that still stings.

Joe is seeing someone.

Someone else.

Joe is out there holding hands with someone else, laughing at someone else’s jokes, looking into someone else’s eyes and kissing someone else’s lips.

Joe is kissing someone else on the mouth.

Fuck.

It has been so long, and yet that still stings, even though you don’t want to let it sting you. You have to find a way to stop letting it sting you. Getting with someone else, with Jasper whose name wasn’t fucking Jasper, clearly hadn’t helped enough.

It feels silly how you’re simultaneously judging yourself so hard whilst also trying to justify feeling a certain type of way because, listen, you’re only human after all, aren’t you? It’s obvious that some things are going to affect you. Makes sense that you don’t love the idea of Joe holding someone else to his chest the way he’s holding you to his chest right now.

Those feelings are allowed.

But the flipside of that is that, if you don’t want to feel bad about something, if you don’t want to actively judge yourself, then maybe you shouldn’t have gone home with this guy so easily, you know?

He didn’t even have to try to get you to go with him. 

You just... went.

So this is kind of your own fault, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Joe suddenly whispers. “I can feel you think. Stop milling.”

You quickly pull your fingers from the edge of the duvet cover where you thumbnail was scratchig along the fabric.

Unfair that Joe knows you.

But sort of perfect that he does...

Shit.

“Feel this?” Joe doesn’t move his arms, but slowly curls his fingers where his hands cover your sides and makes his nails trail along your bare skin.

“Mhm.”

“Focus on that. You’re better in your body.”

You scoff a little, huff a breath through your nose that Joe feels just below his collarbone, and softly ask, “Rather than my brain, you mean?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

In a criminal act, Joe kisses you on the forehead and makes you melt. Stupid how a forehead kiss makes your eyes roll back more than all the other things he’d done to you just now.

It’s real hard work to pull yourself back down to earth. To not let yourself marinate in this fucked up soup that the two of you have willingly gotten yourself into.

You clear your throat a little and hoarsely say, “I can’t stay over.”

“Hmm. I think you’ll find that you have no other choice.”

“Joe.”

“Just stay for a little bit.” Joe holds you a little tighter, “Just a little bit longer.” and slurs his words a little slower. Then he moves a hand and places it right where he knows it’ll render you fucking useless.

Unfair.

“Joe.”

“Shh. Later. Sleep now.”

And, fine. You’ll marinate. Who are you trying to fool?

It was all something for later.

You’re drifting off already, comfortable and warm, Joe’s familiar touch way too gentle and nice not to let sleep take over.

With Joe’s fingers softly tickling the skin of your side, his other rubbing circles into the dip on the back of your neck, and his slow and steady breath in your hair, you decide to forget everything else for now.

The heating was off, but you were warm.

Everything else was something for later.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @cowboymcflurry

@demonsanddemogorgons, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson

@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia, @mandyjo8719

@mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr, @munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq

@niallersfreckles, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid

@readergf, @royale1803, @skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac

@solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle

@tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[gamblersdoll]

hi hun! Love ya work and everything bout it 😼😼 deserve more recognition fr I’m not too sure bout your rules for asks so feel free to deny but but but it’s rotting at my brain and I need it satisfied 😞 but reader being a brat and bakugo going to punish her at home but then she falls sick and it turns into domestic bakugo taking care of reader mhm? I’m so sick rn and I want domestic but I also want like Ughughugh idk babe do what you want with it just brain worms LOL

implied smut, fluff, comfort, domestic katsuki !

ping!

the notification goes instantly to his phone, you putting your phone down and laying against the mattress the both of you shared. your phone immediately goes off, taking a peak and its just him rambling to himself practically..

‘im going to fuck you up.’

‘keep playin with me at work and im going to play in your pussy next.’

you smile to the phone, but your stomach somewhat churns for whatever reason. you probably have another stomach bug, being prone to stomach issues and back issues. you reply really quickly, tossing your phone and groaning into the pillow in the fetal position.

it doesnt take long for him to get home, however. he busting through the room and seeing you curled up, he thinks your ready for him to take you like he did last weekend.. but something’s off, your skin is greenish and clammy. “hey.. you good? the matter?”

“dont feel good.” you mumble, hands clutch your stomach and moan. “sorry.. i know you were excited about fucking—“

“hoe, shut up.” he grunts, scooping you up and taking you to the bathroom. “where does it hurt?” he asks, watching you lift your shirt and he feels around. “here?” he asks, rubbing your neck and kissing your cheek. “sounds like you got another stomach virus.”

“yeah.. you dont have to be around—“

“didnt i just tell you to hush it?” he asks, flicking your head and starting a bath. the waters’ cool, him slowly settling you inside. “sit here for a sec, relax and ill fix some food.” he mumbles, talking about hes calling for the next week.

“you dont have to..” you mumble watching him untie his boots.

“i do, because i know im going to get sick and its for sickness and in health, stupid.” he replied, glaring at you. “you do know that i love you, right?”

you nod, feeling some what better.

eventually, he has you take some herbal tea and put you on the bed. “just rest, youll be okay— and we’ll figure it out.”

“are you mad that we cant fuck..?”

“have you or have you not been dating me for four years?” he asks like you had six heads, putting a hand on your stomach. “no im not mad, yes i still love you, no i wont hold it against you, no im not mad i got to miss work, yes i will stay with you.”

note taken.

[ja3yun]

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.3

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: suggestive (smut-ish flashback), angst, lost love, pet names, not many warnings tbf, and not proofread. anything I missed please lmk!

wc: 10.3k+ (honestly, i need to make these shorter)

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

a/n: hi! I'm giving you this chapter kinda quickly. heavy appearances from my wjsn ults because they are now integral to the story <3 will update the next part during the week

4 years have passed since you left. No contact with your family, sometimes opting to send them a Christmas card with no return address just to let them know you’re alive. You missed them like crazy, more than any words could explain. It had been so long sometimes you wonder if you should go back, even for your mum’s birthday but it would be too awkward. The dramatic teen you left behind is who they knew you as, not the woman you’ve grown up to be. 

College changed you dramatically, for the better you like to hope. Your roommate Eunseo quickly became your other half, showing you the ropes of Avanti, Being a year older than you she was accustomed to the college, she picked you up when you needed it the most and she didn’t even have to. You thought she took pity on you at first, just taking you under her wing because you were a crying dismantled mess. But she was simply just the loveliest person in the whole world. You wouldn’t have made it to today without her. She left college last year and got a job close by so you saw her often and you were thankful for her every day. 

Throughout your college experience you did the typical; study, party, make questionable life choices at said parties. But one thing you couldn’t do was get into a relationship. 

You started hooking up with guys in your second year, just flings and one-night stands. Eunseo supported your habits, “I will always support women's rights and also their wrongs” she used to say every time you pre-gamed and she never asked why you didn’t get into a relationship. 

Jaeyun’s name hadn’t left your lips in 1460 days. A choice that you made as soon as you stepped off the bus in Pyeongchang. Jaeyun’s name also hadn't left your mind in 1460 days. Every touch from another felt wrong, every chat up line, every unwarranted dick pic. It wasn’t him so it didn’t matter to you. 

You started to enjoy yourself more as time went on, creating a new friend group and new memories. By the final year of college, you were content with your life, finding a degree in film was a fluke but you ended up loving every bit of it, an internship was on the horizon at HYBE Media to shadow a music video producer, your hair routine finally working out. Everything was coming up Y/N. This was the right choice. 

Yet you still thought about Jaeyun every day. What was he up to? Did he like living in Busan? Was he with someone else? Granted you don’t like to think about that last one too often or else you get a tightness in your chest. You wanted him to be happy but selfishly you didn’t want to know if that happiness was because of someone else. 

“Helloooo, Y/N, are you even listening?” Eunseo’s hand waves across your face as you come back from your zoned-out state, “Tell me what I just said.” She huffs and crosses her legs and arms, sitting back knowingly. Eunseo had invited you to a coffee date in a quaint little shop outside of your university. She originally introduced it to you on your second day here and it became your favourite spot. Laughing, crying, and hungover, you both occupied this little shop as if it were your second home.

You smile guilty and laugh, “You were talking about how much you love me and that we should get married,” you shrug and tilt your head jokingly.

“Weirdly you are close!” Her pointer finger is now in front of your face as she leans forward quickly in a flash. 

“I was?” You gave an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes! It has to do with marriage.” Her hands gesture an arch that can only remind you of the one SpongeBob imagination meme and you giggle. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Serim after like 2 dates.” You half joke and half panic, it wouldn’t be unlike her to do something like that and you both know it. Eunseo takes in your expression and slaps the table loudly and laughs. If there was one thing your best friend wasn’t good at it’s being quiet, and you love her so much for it.

“I like him a lot, but no. Actually, it's about my sister. You know she’s getting married?” You nod, sipping your coffee, “Well of course I’m the maid of honor,” she lifts the back of her hands and twinkles them under her chin and you chuckle, “Someone dropped out and there is a spare seat. Yeoreum is a freak and needs it filled for everything ‘to go as planned’”

You had never met any of Eunseo’s family, they lived a few hours away and despite the effort Eunseo made to invite you to every family gathering, even Christmas, you declined not wishing to be a burden. “I want you to come. I checked your schedule and you’re free, I have a dress, I’m driving us up,” she keeps rhyming off every reason you have ever given her to bail on traveling with her, “and you owe me one.”

Furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head you encourage her to continue, owe her for what? “Well you don’t owe me yet but I heard the best man is single, older than you, and has these gorgeous big eyes. I’ll set you both up.”

“So I owe you for something that hasn’t even happened yet? And you don’t even know if he is interested? Or single?”

“Details, details.” Eunseo’s hand waves dismissively, “Please just come. I want you to meet my family since you don’t have any of your own. Think of my family as yours.” 

Eunseo doesn’t know what happened back home. You never told her you didn’t have a family but that you were just estranged from them, never disclosing details, particularly that the reason you don’t go home is your own fault, she didn’t have to know. Eunseo didn’t know anything, not about Jaeyun, nothing at all and yet she didn’t pry into your past. You were so thankful for her.

“Eunseo,” rejection is on the tip of your lips but she’s pouting, her eyes big as she does her best to look cute, and to your dismay it works, “I’d love to come.” The sun suddenly started to shine and burn your skin as its light lay on you through the window.

“Amazing!” clapping her hands rapidly she giggles, “We’re leaving tomorrow.” 

Your eyes expand and she stands up not letting you protest at how soon the wedding is. “I thought she wasn’t getting married until Saturday?” You query and check your phone which reads Monday. 

Walking out she explains, “Yeah but I need to be there early for final fittings, yadda yadda, boring wedding stuff. So I’m taking you with me. Either that or you drive up yourself.” The glint in her eyes as she turns to you makes your face deadpan.

“Fuck you, you know I can’t drive.” She laughs and grabs your hand. 

“And I still don’t understand how you’re 23 and can’t even ride a go-kart without crashing.” Playfully you hit her arm and laughed, a memory of you and her go-karting painted your brain. After that, you never got behind another wheel. 

___________

You arrive at Eunseo’s parents' house and your jaw slacks open. It’s bigger than any house you’ve ever seen. Your best friend joked a lot about being rich but you didn’t know she was rich rich. There are stairs leading to a giant white door that compliments the ash-coloured stones that surround it. Moss is growing up on each side of the home with intentionally placed pink flowers decorating throughout. Those rich bitch houses are so ugly, I want as small a house as possible so I’m always close to you no matter what room I’m in. His voice plays in your head but you shake him out.

Her parents are graciously letting you and her stay in the spare bedrooms, you don’t dare ask how many rooms are actually in this castle. Something about the air feels strangely familiar. You shrug it off and head inside with your blue suitcase and steamed dress. You curse rich people for having so many stairs.

“My baby!” Eunseo’s dad shouts from the door, “How is my sweet angel?” He greets her at the top of the stairs and hugs her tightly. You miss your dad a lot. His comforting words, his piggyback rides, his weird cinnamon body wash that made you despise the spice, you missed it all. “This must be Y/N! It only took 4 years to meet you.” His chest lets out a deep laugh as he hugs you just as tightly as his own daughter. A smile plasters on your face as you hug him with one arm, the other outstretched to protect the dress. 

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honour to be part of your daughter’s big day.” Eunseo’s dad’s eyes turn to crescent moons as he smiles and steps aside to usher you into the big house. 

“The party is in a few hours. The happy couple aren’t here, running last-minute chores but you’ll meet them tonight.” He turns to you and points up the stairs, “Eunseo will show you where to get changed. If you need anything, me and the wife will be hovering around.” You side-eye Eunseo quickly and she smiles widely. She didn’t tell you about a party. 

Bowing slightly you thank him and follow Eunseo who is squealing, shouting about how excited she is for you to meet everyone. Sometimes you wonder if she is the relationship you’ve been seeking after Jaeyun, platonic or not, you love her all the same. 

A few hours later you hear bustling from the crowd gathered down the stairs, the party in full swing as Eunseo finishes curling a wispy strand of your hair. Glancing up at her you notice how beautiful she truly is; her bangs falling effortlessly to frame her face, her lips plump and naturally pouty, she was flawless. 

“If you keep staring I’ll literally take you on the bed.” She smiles and you laugh. Pouting her lips near your face she pretends to kiss you and you play into it. Life is so easy with her. “Go get changed, I need to see my masterpiece completed.” Walking away she picks up the dress and thrusts it into your chest, “You’re gonna look amazing. That babe of a best man is gonna fall at your feet.  Now go.” she shoos you into the ensuite bathroom.

Staring in the mirror you analyse her work on your face and hair. Never in your life have you ever looked so beautiful and you can’t help but stare. You shed your old life behind you yet this is the first time you really felt like you were reborn. The immature you left behind, the 23-year-old staring in the mirror coming up from the ashes.

Unzipping the garment bag you see the dress Eunseo picked for you and you gasp. Its a silky deep red dress. Far too sexy for something like this.

“Um, Eunseo? This dress is…” You hold it against you and observe what it would look like on you. Hot. That’s exactly how it would look and considering this was the first time meeting a whole family of someone dear to you, you’d rather be more covered up than this.

“Shut up it’s hot. My cousins will be wearing something way sluttier so it’s all good.” Her nonchalant tone doesn’t ease you but it’s either this or the dress she got you for the actual wedding. 

As you adorn the dress you notice how it fits you perfectly and hugs you in at the waist flatteringly. It’s been months since you’ve put something on this beautiful. Your cleavage is out just enough, the material stops at your mid-thighs, and you feel like a beauty queen. As you take yourself in your hand goes up to your necklace. That necklace. The gold of the sun complimented the dress perfectly. You never did bring yourself to take it off.

Opening the door you see Eunseo changed into a pastel blue dress, covering her arms and neck but cut out to leave her chest exposed just enough, a slit runs up her thigh. Your jaw is on the floor as she walks over and eyes you up and down. “Look at you! A literal goddess.” she smiles as she takes your hands. “You ready to upstage my sister at her own engagement party?”

“Eunseo…you did not pick these outfits to stand out on purpose did you?” Suddenly your heart is beating quickly and the urge to change is more than ever. 

“Of course not! We’re just hotter than anyone here, including her.” She laughs and hands you the pair of gold heels you eyed up as she unpacked her bags earlier. They were exactly your style. “Take these and put them on. Literally take them off whenever but for the grand entrance you need to be complete” She used her right hand to motion over your body. 

Putting the shoes on you grew about 4 inches taller and were on Eunseo’s eye level now. “Ready to rock this bitch?” You nod and she grabs your arm, dragging you down the stairs.

There are eyes on you everywhere and you can’t lie, it is a little uncomfortable considering the age range of the men staring are in their late 50s. It's a party like you’ve only seen in movies; waiters walk around with Hors D’oeurves and flutes of expensive champagne. You start to wonder how much all this cost and if you could convince someone at this party to pay off your student loan. 

“Hey Eunseo?” You grab her attention as she hands you a glass of bubbly happily, “I just realised I don’t know Yeoreum’s fiance’s name.” 

“Oh,” She laughs loudly and slaps your arm, “It’s Jaeyun.” Your heart stops for a moment, there are lots of Jaeyun’s in Korea. Jaeyun from TO1 could walk through that door for all you knew. “Jake is what he goes by though.” Your heart drops rapidly. There might be a lot of Jaeyuns but none that also go by Jake. Part of you wishes it was the biggest coincidence in the world but as voices fill the archway into the living room where you and your best friend reside you see Yeoreum, more beautiful than any picture Eunseo showed you could capture, and Jaeyun. Your Jaeyun.

Static is all you hear as you watch him greet guests and thank them for coming, and each footstep closer to you has your mouth going moist, ready to vomit. He hasn’t noticed you and if you had control of your body you would be bolting out the door instantly, but your mind has glued your feet to the floor. You take him, his face more defined than his previous squishy state, he’s wearing a fitted black suit blazer with no shirt underneath and matching wide-leg black trousers, and his hair is slicked back with stray pieces falling around his face. He looks expensive. He looks like the home you once knew.

You see Eunseo talking to you but as your eyes meet his, that static you once heard turns into rapid heartbeats. Your body is flushing with heat as you notice how his eyes widen for a second, his body turns to you instinctively.

“Eunseo!” Yeoreum squeals and shuffles quickly to give her sister an all-consuming hug, just like you want to do to Jaeyun right now. “Jakey come here” she beacons her fiance towards the both of you and without blinking or taking his eyes off you he walks cautiously forward. “You must be Y/N? Eunseo talks about you all the time.” 

She’s lovely. Gorgeous, clearly kind, she’s perfect just like her sister and it makes you want to cry. She’s perfect for him.

Plastering a smile on your face you fake glee as you hug her lightly, stealing another glance at Jaeyun while she can’t see you. He might have gotten older but those eyes still looked the same. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you pull away and step back, sole focus on his bride, “Congratulations.” It's bitter and you say it quickly.

“Aw thank you!” She beams and you feel like being sick again. 

“Excuse me, I’m going to go to the restroom, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself and rush past the couple and Eunseo leaving a gust of air behind you. Clutching your chest you run upstairs for an escape. Out of all the best friend’s sister’s fiances, how was he the one you were faced with? Pushing the guest room door open you scuttle in and take a few deep breaths reliving the moments just before.

“Y/N?” The Australian accent hits you hard as you turn around and meet his eyes. It takes only seconds before his hands have cupped your face and his body dangerously presses against yours, so close you can feel his heart, a heart that used to beat only for you.

“Baby,” he pauses as his eyes search your face trying to convince himself that you aren’t a dream, “where did you go?” Jaeyun desperately whines, his voice cracking in sadness as his forehead touches yours. There is love laced within the melancholic question. Instinctively your hands grab his wrists as you close your eyes. “Princess, please talk to me. '' He's pleading, begging for any explanation. Jaeyun’s hands go from your cheeks and trace down your shoulders, his eyes scanning every inch of your face in desperation. He doesn’t believe you’re real and in front of him, your face is more mature yet still the same girl he loves even after all these years. 4 years he’s waited for you to come back to him.

Your silence and shallow breathing urge him to ask more questions, his thumbs stroking the area between the base of your neck and collarbone. “What happened?”

“You’re engaged.”  The first words out of your mouth take him aback. His mouth stays open, his hands leaving your body leaving you cold, and shivering. “She seems nice-”

“Don’t do that,” His bottom jaw slowly clenching as he speaks, “Please don’t act fine like this. Don’t make it seem like I’m the only one that’s hurting for us right now.” You sob without tears as you see him vulnerable and eyes beseeching. Jaeyun’s hands point to you before coming together in a praying motion, “I looked for you everywhere. I spent months trying to find you.” Deep down you knew he would have looked for you, but not for months, maybe for a couple of weeks before he left for Busan, but never months, “What did I do?”

Without a beat, you respond, “Nothing. You could never do anything.” 

“You don’t just abandon people you love, Y/N. Not us. There had to be something I did to make you fall out of lov-”

“Jake!” You hear a familiar voice shout and your head falls down to stare at your shoes. 

“Baby please,” Jaeyun wants to hold you, kiss you, understand what happened but he can’t. Not right now. 

“You should go, I’ll leave in the morning-”

“Don’t leave me again, baby, please.” His voice is quiet, despair etched within his tone. His eyes fall on your necklace, the necklace that he gifted you. His eyes trail down to properly take you in and if he wasn’t astounded before by your mere presence he was now, “You look so beautiful, just like always.”

“Jake your dad is gonna make a speech-” Heeseung's voice bellows throughout the room and yet you and Jaeyun don’t take your eyes off each other. As Heeseung walks in he freezes at the sight of you. Over the years Heeseung silently forgave you, seeing his best friend move on with Yeoreum brought him some solace when he thought about what you did to Jaeyun, but now the anger that was dissipated through time is bubbling up again, “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing here?” His tone is surprised more than angry, but you can tell he’s fuming.

You don’t dare look at him. 

“You should get back to your engagement party." Nothing but a whisper as it comes out. You’ve lost him as quickly as you got him back. You did this, and now you need to deal with the consequences. Brushing past him and Heeseung you make your way back to Eunseo ignoring his hand that grazed your wrist in an attempt to stop you.

His family was here, his friends, people from your past that you wanted to forget. The pressure was starting to become too much as you rushed down the stairs before colliding with someone, “I’m sorry.” You bow quickly.

“Y/N?” Mr. Sim’s voice quips in astonishment, “What are you doing here?” His head comes down so his eyes are level with yours, “What-” He has no words, looking at the girl he thought was going to marry his son. 

“Mr. Sim, It’s nice to see you again” You bow but still avoid eye contact. “I’m sure you’re proud of Jaeyun.” 

“Darling, we thought something awful happened to you.” The sincerity in his voice made you look up at him, heartache carved in your features “Your mum and dad haven’t stopped worrying about you.” A hand is placed on your shoulder and as you look down you see Eunseo.

“Girl there you are! You took one long bathroom break.” She laughs and bows to Mr. Sim, “Ready for your speech, Sir?” Mr. Sim looks at you inquisitively before returning Eunseo’s bow.

“I’ve been preparing this speech for years, only some minor tweaks.” His eyes find yours and you start to think maybe he’s hinting towards the speech he would have given at Jaeyun and your engagement party. “Better head.” Lips forming a tight smile he descends the stairs. 

His words circle your brain. You understood your parents would worry but all of these years you never had to face it, not until your past was being pushed onto you. Eunseo takes your hand and pulls you to the dining area where people are gathered to make speeches and say their congratulations. 

Jaeyun strolls in behind Heeseung, his hands in his pockets before he notices his soon-to-be wife and wraps one arm around her. Tears threaten to spill as you watch the loving action. That should have been you. You should be marrying him, taking his second name, being his everything.

A fork clinks with a wine glass as Mr. Sim starts his speech. “Thank you everyone for coming. I will make this short considering I’m sure you’re all sick of us talking, especially when there is a free bar.” the people occupying the room laugh loudly and you see Yeoreum smile up at Jaeyun. It killed you but like always you put a smile on your face, “My son, he’s always been someone to wear his heart on his sleeve, always giving one hundred percent of himself to the person he loves,” Mr. Sims eyes fall on you and you feel like the speech is somehow directed to you, “Jaeyun deserves to have someone who loves him unconditionally, without prejudice, without pride, and always with his best interest in mind. I believe he’s found that.” 

Crushed. Your heart can’t take the rest of the speech as you walk out of the room and bolt for the entrance of the house. Heaving your chest to gasp for air you feel yourself clutching at your chest, if you hadn’t had a panic attack before in your life you would have thought you were having a heart attack. You breathe out harshly, gasping for air as you lean on the banister. Someone comes up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder gently. 

You hear muffled words but don’t take anything in as the figure guides you to sit on the steps, their hands rubbing your arms to keep you warm.

“Breathe for me, Y/N. He He Hoo or whatever.” You follow the words and inhale two breaths sharply and exhale extendedly. “That’s it.”

Your vision starts to come into focus as you see Heeseung in front of you, his Bambi eyes soft as his thumbs rub circles into your upper arms, “Keep doing that for me, okay?” He’s always been so kind to you, that you want to cry and he notices, “Hey, look at me, Y/N. Tell me about that band you used to like way back when.” Heeseung is trying to distract you but your brain is fuzzy and tears are rolling down your face, “The one with that rapper Jaeyun was always jealous of because you had him as your lock screen?"

“Monsta X?” you breathe out and he smiles lightly.

“Yeah, tell me about them. Are they still together?” His hands leave your arms as he discards his jacket from his body and wraps it around you.

Nodding you start to answer his question, “Yeah, they’re still together.” You sniffle and feel your heart start to slow down and breathe at ease, “Most of them are in the military now.” Your lips naturally form into a pout as you think about your favourite band being separated, not being whole until 2027.

“Sucks doesn’t it? I felt the same about ONF.” He laughs and so do you, letting out a singular sob as you do so.

“I didn’t mean to come here, Hee. Her sister is my best friend.” His eyes go wide and then looks down, his hands finding their way to your knees. 

“Y/N, you can’t be here. He finally moved on.” There is a pleading intertwined with sorrow in his voice and you slowly nod. “He’s happy.”

“Heeseung?” Jaeyun’s voice pierces through you, the warmth from Heeseung’s jacket becoming null as goosebumps prickle your skin. “Can I talk with her?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.” They’re talking like you aren’t even there and a part of this too yet your voice is too weak to speak up and share your thoughts. Tension is looming in the air as Heeseung gives the man you love a stern stare, but Jaeyun has always been stubborn when it comes to you. If he can’t talk to you now he will find a way. However, for now, at least, Jaeyun listens to his best man, and with one more glace to your fragile body he heads back to his party. It hurts him to see you like this, he wants nothing more than to swoop you up and take you in his arms like he used to all those years ago.

The party continues as you head back in making your way to the guest bedroom, giving excuses to those asking simply saying you’re tired from travelling. You miss him being yours. That was the real exhaustion.

________

The party ended a couple of hours ago, the once loud and busy foyer now dark as you tip-toe down the stairs, heedful to not wake anyone up. It’s 5 am when you awake dying of thirst and decide to leave the comfy double bed of the guest bedroom and get a glass of water. Looking around you see empty wine glasses, a few smashed ones lined up on the long table just beside the stair banister. It truly was a magnificent party and in any other circumstance, you would have had a great time. Yeoreum’s family is lovely and welcoming it’s no wonder they have so many friends, and no wonder Jaeyun fell in love with her and fit so perfectly as her soon-to-be husband. 

A leak of light bleeds from the kitchen and you presume an under-unit lamp is still on but as your feet scuffle into the kitchen you see a broad back staring at you. Taking in the figure you notice their blue and yellow checked pajama bottoms and casual black t shirt evidently not intended to be worn together but clearly the first thing they could find. 

A creak sounds from under you alerting them of your presence causing them to whip around. Jaeyun. One of his eyes was shut indicating he was not long up himself, his dark hair fluffy and tussled but still slightly in place due to the remnants of styling wax. He takes your breath away every time.

“Hi.” You whisper and make your way to the fridge. Heeseung was right, it wasn’t a good idea to speak to each other. When you saw Jaeyun again after all these years you thought he would be mad, scream at you to get out, seething in hate, but that was never who Jaeyun was. Instead, you felt his love shooting through you and that was the dangerous part.

“It’s late.” His eyes never leave you as he watches you pour a glass of filtered water. 

“Or early.” You shrug and lean against the unit not daring to look at him. “I guess it depends on whether you went to sleep or not.” you mumble, small talk never being your thing. 

Jaeyun still feels like he’s in a dream. Your presence is haunting yet he hasn’t felt more at home. Just the simplicity of you being in this kitchen is enough for him to experience contentment he hasn’t felt in years. Not since then. 

“When did you get engaged?” The question punches him slap-bang in the middle of his chest, the wind escaping his body. 

With his head hanging low and his middle finger tracing his coffee mug he muttered, “ A few months ago.” to which you nodded and pursed your lips. “What about you?” he questions back, “you seeing anyone?”

“No.” It’s sharp and direct but you don’t want to touch on the subject any further, you didn’t want to accidentally divulge that you couldn’t get over him, not when he was sitting afore you an engaged man. It’s embarrassing.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath and holds it as if he was going to say something but in his hesitance, you speak up again. “Eunseo, she’s my best friend.” giving the information as a way to explain why you’re here. “I didn’t know it was you getting married to Yeoreum, I promise.” Your eyes are begging for him to look at you so he can see the sincerity in your words but he never does, opting to just nod slowly. “I’ll make up an excuse to get out of here before the wedding.”

“Why did you leave, Y/N?” Jaeyun’s voice is soft but laced with hurt, “Tell me why because for 4 fucking years I still haven’t been able to figure it out.” 

No words come out of your mouth, instead, you bite your lip trying to pluck up courage, suddenly the idea of him looking at you made you uncomfortable but of course, now his eyes are on you. “You owe me that much.”

“I-,” You place the glass of water down and grip the counter behind you tightly, “I…I didn’t get into any colleges that I applied for, none near Busan. Only one accepted me but it was a few hours away.” His eyebrows are crossed in confusion as he asks, “What do you mean? I thought you only applied for ones near Apollo. We had planned-”

“My grades weren’t good enough to get into any colleges in Busan.” There is a slight venom in your tone but it’s not directed at him but rather yourself. “If I had told you I wasn’t going with you, I was scared you would give up your dream school and just fuck it all off to be with me.” You finally look at him and the confusion is dispelling from his face as you continue, “You said it yourself, you would have gone anywhere if it meant being with me. I couldn’t ask you to do that. I would live with the guilt every day, watching you attend a subpar college all because of me. I loved you Jaeyun I couldn’t do that to you.” 

Jaeyun doesn’t miss the past tense usage of ‘love’ but he rewinds, “So you left our relationship because…it would be long distance?” 

“Jaeyun it wasn’t just that, I did think about long distance but I knew you would grow at college without me, i kept thinking about what you said. The whole slowly breaking away from each other because we become different people stuff got in my head and I couldn’t bear to slowly lose you, so I-”

“So you thought leaving me without a word was the right way to go? Y/N we could have worked it out, we would have figured out a solution.” Jaeyun stands up and walks over to you, “I didn’t mean to pressure you into moving, or applying for the same college, or fuck even making you doubt our chances at long distance.” His hand naturally caresses your cheek as you let a tear slip.

Shaking your head you look up at him, “I was stupid and I didn’t want you to worry about me, you already had so much going on between work and school. But look, you went to college and you grew up, look at what you have.” Your hands gesture upstairs to where Yeoreum sleeps peacefully unaware of what is transpiring in her parent’s kitchen.

“We could have had this Y/N. You could be the one I’m marrying if you just let me look after you like a boyfriend is supposed to if you trusted me enough.”

“I did trust you.”

“Not enough to tell me what was going on when I gave you that ring. Y/N-” He huffs out loudly and drags a hand through his hair. “That should have been your opening to talk to me about all this. I love you so much I would have made long-distance work.” His deep eyes are searching into yours. All these questions he has and you can’t answer or retaliate to any of them. “When I gave you that ring and made that promise to be yours forever I wasn’t fucking around okay? I meant it.” He lets out a dry laugh and takes your hands in his. “Baby, I love you.”

You stand too stunned to speak. Here Jaeyun was after all these years still hopelessly yours. An engaged Jaeyun was still in love with you. You want to let out a laugh of disbelief but you’re frozen. The room is silent except for the annoyingly loud hum of the refrigerator. 

Jaeyun notices how your eyes fall to his lips as he licks them wet, taking the opportunity to lean forward just enough that his breath hits yours. If your lips touch you no doubt know you won’t ever let him go. 

“Jaeyun…”

Footsteps are heard behind you both and you push Jaeyun away forcefully but despite the other presence making themselves known, his eyes never leave your tear-glassed ones. “Baby,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear but you shake your head and barge past him, head down so the other person doesn’t see you. “Y/N?” Jaeyun calls out, reckless abandonment is telling him to chase after you but as he feels an arm stopping him to a halt he looks up and sees Heeseung. 

“Jake, don’t.”

________

Stirring in your sleep you groan as you hear a plethora of laughing coming from downstairs causing you to take the pillow from under you and suffocate your ears with it. After last night’s tragic events you just wanted to go home. Nothing would make you happier than to catch the first bus back to your flat and rewatch every episode of Fleabag to take your mind off of everything. Jaeyun was still in love with you and selfishly you hoped he hated you after what you did, that way your heart wouldn’t leap at every word he said. 

Baby, I love you

You shake the thought away and give in, sitting up and looking around the room. Eunseo is gone, probably downstairs being the reason for everyone’s laughter you think to yourself. With a huff, you pull the covers off your body and immediately feel the cold breeze causing you to shiver. You don’t know if it's a coincidence or not but as goosebumps rise on your legs and arms, Jaeyun’s laugh is heard over everyone else. You missed his laugh so much, your heart had a shot of pain pierce come on so suddenly. There was a glimmer of sun outside that made your necklace sparkle as you proceeded for the door.

It was as if your ears could only hear Jaeyun as you walked quietly down the stairs. “If it’s Yeoreum making him laugh I might kill myself.” you mutter, pulling your hair up in a pony. It’s dramatic but right now you can’t face to see them in love, it hurts. You’re hurting.

“Y/N! You’re awake!” Euneo stands up and scurries to the kitchen, grabbing a plate for you, “Mum just made breakfast.” 

“Hey! I helped.” Yeoreum faked offence which Eunseo simply rolled her eyes in response. She handed you the plate before you could tell her you weren’t hungry. “Sit down, Y/N, please.” Eunseo’s mum points to the empty chair at the comically large table, you suppose she does have a large family. 

Luckily for you, the seat was situated far enough away from Jaeyun that you could avoid him, unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid his eyes burning holes into the side of your face. You ignore him and scan the feast of food before you and you wonder if this is what it was like for Annie in Parent Trap when Chessy made a buffet of all her favourites. “Eat up, Y/N, there is plenty here.” Yeoreum and Eunseo’s mum says.

“Thanks, Mrs. Son.”  You pick up a few hash browns and start to eat one. That’s when you become aware of the enemy of all condiments, black pepper. It was a great tool in the kitchen, adding a little flavour and spice. Not for you though, the black powdered devil always makes your tongue itch. Who the fuck puts black pepper on hash browns? You think to yourself, face scrunching and teeth running along your tongue as you pour yourself a glass of water and take a huge swig. It does nothing at all so you go to excuse yourself to get a glass of juice or anything with taste but before you can there is a glass of apple juice placed beside you. Glancing up you see Jaeyun placing the cup with a knowing look on his face.

Of course, he knew. He knew everything about you and with the face you were pulling it was one he had seen too many times at restaurants.

“Why the fuck would they season their food with this, like, isn’t that what these are for?” You grabbed a pepper shaker and started waving it in his face. You had both gotten back from a day-turned-overnight trip to the beach and stopped off at a service station in the middle of nowhere, the diner was quaint with an American feel to it, undoubtedly your favourite kind.

“Princess I think your weird tongue is the only one that would complain.” Jaeyun laughed and swapped your eggs for his bacon. “There, now there is no pepper in sight.” He also passed over his apple juice with a bright smile.

“Take this.” His deep voice pulled you back to reality. Thanking him you take the cup and chug it quietly, but everyone's eyes are on you.

“You don’t like the food, Y/N?” Mrs. Son says not offended but certainly not pleased. Waving your hand quickly you swallow the liquid and explain, “No, it's lovely Mrs Son, me and pepper just don’t go well together.” 

Yeoreum looks at Jaeyun with furrowed brows but doesn’t question it. There is a massive part of him that knows he should have left you to deal with it yourself so as to not raise suspicion but his instincts kicked in. He takes Yeoreum’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly. It stings your heart.

“So,” Mr Son claps his hands diverting the attention to him, “I thought since the whole wedding party is here we should get to know each other. We will be family once Saturday passes after all.” A groan comes softly from your right and you turn to see Heeseung with his eyes shut. 

“If he makes us play charades I’m passing my best man duties to literally anyone else.” He whispers to you which causes you to snort laugh and bite your mouth shut. You miss Heeseung’s smile as he watches you. He always did love you like a sister despite everything. He knew this situation wasn’t just hurting Jaeyun and after last night he was sure you were just as heartbroken as he was.

“We’re going to have a friendly game of football!”

“Dad, I can’t get bruised before my big day!” Yeoreum exclaims, her arms wrapped around her body to protect her from an imaginary ball flying at her. Jaeyun laughs and rubs her arms, “Reumie I don’t think your dad means you guys.” 

Heeseung’s hand lands on your shoulder as you watch the loving act. They did look good together you couldn’t lie about that. Their energy matched, they would make the most beautiful children to ever walk this earth, and even their sense of style was similar - casual but fashionable. 

“I was going to say 5 v 5, there are enough men here right?” Mr Son starts counting around the table as Heeseung slowly slides down the chair, his eyes hidden behind this hand as he pretends to rub his forehead. 

“I thought you liked football, Hee?” You whisper but he shakes his head violently. 

“Used to. I have since grown a great distaste for it, especially with Yeoreum’s cousins. They’re brutal and leave me bruised.” he mutters the last few words and you laugh leaning close.

“Aw is Hee scared of a little bruise.” He doesn’t appreciate your taunting yet he smiles and rolls his eyes. “You’re almost as good as Jaeyun, you can handle yourself I mean look.” You sneakily point to one of the cousins who is on his 3rd plate of food, “He’s going to be so full he can’t move, stick by him and you’ll look like Messi or something.”

Heeseung laughs out loud, “Oh! Heeseung I almost didn’t count you.” Mr Son claps, “That makes 10!”

Heeseung’s tongue pokes the side of his face as his rage-filled eyes look right into yours. You mouth a half-hearted ‘sorry’ and hold in a giggle. “I’ll kick the ball in your face.” He warns but you’re too busy chuckling to notice. 

Eunseo’s eyes meet yours with her eyebrows raised. Giving her a confused look you knit your eyebrows together to ask her what that look on her face is for but she simply smirks and looks at Heeseung. Fuck. You forgot that was her favour to you, to set you up with the dishy best man. Oh if only she knew. You and Heeseung were so out of this world impossible that you had to fight to hold in your laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Heeseung whispers and his lips graze the shell of your ear. You quickly turn around and his face is incredibly close to yours. Eunseo must be loving this.

“Eunseo promised to set me up with the hot best man. That was my bribe to get me here.” A shallow laugh leaves his throat and he sits up, hands pointed to his chest.

“I am hot to be fair.” He jokingly smirks causing you to hit his chest playfully. “What? Do you not think so?” 

“I know so. It’s just how cocky you are about it all,” Heeseung’s lips part to say something but you stop him, “If you’re going to make a joke about your dick I don’t want to hear it, Hee.” he shuts his mouth instantly. You missed this just as much as you missed Jaeyun. The banter between you and your friends is what kept you from losing your mind most of your high school days, and right now it’s taking your mind off this ridiculous situation. 

“Eunseo tried it on with me once,” Heeseung says while eyeing her up and giving her a wave. 

“But she acted like she didn’t know you? When she brought you up it was as if she had never met you.” He scoffs as you recall the conversation in the cafe.

“I rejected her, she’s not my type. Plus, she wanted double dates all the time, and don’t get me wrong I love Jake and Yeoreum but they’re insufferable. Kinda like you and hi-” He halts himself mid-sentence and looks at you apologetically. “Sorry.” You wave it off and pretend it doesn’t hurt you to hear before he continues, “I probably shouldn’t say this but if it’s any consolation, he isn’t half as infatuated with her as he was you.” It does bring some solace but you try not to let it sit in your mind too long. 

“I’m not having a great time with it but at least he’s happy.” You mumble playing with your fingers and picking at the skin. Heeseung’s big hands encase your smaller ones as he squeezes them discreetly.

“You’ll always be his first love, just remember that. And who knows,” He leans back in his chair with that smug look on his face once again, “Your next love might be the hot best man.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose you can’t help but laugh again. “Heeseung please shut up.”

While you and Heeseung were talking, none of you noticed Jaeyun staring purposefully as if his eyes could pry you two apart. He wasn’t jealous, no, he was just wishing he was with you both like old times, laughing with you as if no time had passed. Yeoreum strokes his arm lightly and looks up at him. “Jakey, you okay?” to which Jaeyun hums and turns to her, kissing her forehead lightly. “Never better, Reumie.” Lies but as his lips touch her head he remembers last night and how his lips felt like they had found their way home.

“Okay! Let’s go and get ready for a full day ahead. The game starts in an hour.” Mr Son’s voice bellowed throughout the dining area.

“Come on,” Heeseung takes your hand and leads you to the kitchen, “You’re eating something before you’re tormented by the whole aunt brigade.” Heeseung’s always been so sweet. Whoever ties him down is going to be the luckiest girl in the world.

__

The game had been on for 20 minutes and you can’t escape the daggers coming from Mrs. Sim across the table. Of course she’s mad, you hurt her precious baby boy, you completely understand but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. She liked you a lot before everything went down, always treating you like her own but now it’s like her heart turned cold towards you, a contrast to her husband who seems to actually tolerate you enough to be civil. Meeting the Sim family again was beyond awkward but you were thankful none of them let on to the others about you and Jaeyun’s history. 

“My Jakey is so good at football. He said he used to play in high school.” Yeoreum gushes, her hands clasped beside her cheeks as she watches her fiance on the garden lawn.

“Yeah, he was the captain in high school. Almost got a scholarship but he didn't want to do that professionally.” You say and sip at your white wine and lemonade top. 

“How do you know he was captain?” The question comes from Eunseo and you nearly choke on the sweet wine. Shit 

“Yes Y/N, how do you know?” Mrs. Sim quips and you want to die. You look over at the men on the field and panic trying to find any rhyme or reason you would know that information. Maybe I should put on a strip and join them, a ball to the face would be less painful. 

“Oh, um, me and Jae- Jake spoke about it at the party. Getting to know him and all that.” your words are rushed and your hand reaches for the bottle to pour more wine. Admittedly, this is probably the last thing you should be doing, getting drunk and not running your mouth was never something that came easily. The party of girls nod and accept your answer. You need to be more careful. You don’t dare look at Mrs Sim with the fear of being obliterated on the spot. 

“You got this, baby!” Yeoreum shouts loudly and gains the attention of Jaeyun, his smile bright as he waves, his eyes never leaving yours. You smile back and give him two thumbs up. He starts to wipe his face with the bottom of his t-shirt to gather the sweat. It gives you a peak of his lower abdomen and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. 

The mind is a powerful tool and also your greatest enemy at the moment as you recollect every time you kissed down his stomach, sometimes leaving hickeys to mark him as yours. You remember how his jaw would slack open the lower you got, the moans that would fall from his lips as your tongue trailed from his belly button to the top of his boxer waistband. When his dick was pressed against that very stomach you would trace your fingers touching everything but his cock. You swallow hard, thighs clenching together, you can’t think these thoughts but fuck it was so easy.

Jaeyun notices your face change and smirks, biting his lip and ogling at your thighs rubbing against each other just like you used to when you were turned on by him. His eyes dart to his fiances but she seems unbothered by his act. Heeseung comes up behind him and wraps an arm over his shoulder. “Dude this is rough-” he pauses and follows Jaeyun’s eyes, “What you looking at? Yeoreum? Y/N?” he whispers only your name and it makes Jaeyun sigh.

“Let’s just get back to the game yeah? Sooner we beat these old men the sooner I can have a beer.” Heeseung laughs and claps his best friend’s back.

While you're zoning out, your best friend speaks up. “Heeseung looks good, huh Y/N?” Eunseo giggles and nudges your shoulder with hers. “I thought I saw him flirting with you earlier.” You laugh and shake your head dismissively. 

“Nah he was just engaging in conversation.” Everyone is looking at you waiting for you to elaborate, “Oh, it was just usual chit-chat. Weather, work, small talk stuff.” 

Eunseo doesn’t buy your chatter, she’s convinced after seeing you both this morning that you two will be the next wedding she attends. “Y/N, he was all over you at the table!” Eunseo chimes and tries to recreate the scene for the other girls at the table, “He was all like touchy, and your faces were like here!” Her nose brushes yours to which you laugh it off and push her lightly, shaking your head.

“Well I think you should try to speak to him more, he seems interested.” Yeoreum says and you try not to laugh in her face.

Mrs Sim snorts and sets her wine glass down. “Yeoreum, honey, Y/N isn’t his type. He likes classy girls, loyal girls with a good sense of worth.” Ouch. It was probably deserved but shit did that prick your heart. Eunseo looks at you confused but you shrug and don’t pay attention to it.

“Heeseung isn’t my type either.” you mutter. Yeoreum leans her elbow on the table and places her face in her palm as she asks, “What is your type then, Y/N?”

Jaeyun.

“Eh, I like guys who are sweet, um, they laugh at stupid jokes,” You start to look at Jaeyun as you continue, “I like when guys are attentive and know things about you that you don’t even really know yourself because they listen to every little thing you say.”

The girls around the table are gawking at you, “Y/N? Have you ever been in love? You must have been!” One of the bridesmaids asks excitedly. You shrug your head to the side and laugh.

“Once upon a time but that was forever ago.” You slyly look at Mrs. Sim and it was astronomically the worst decision. Her face was overcome with disgust.

Ironically, it’s Yeoreum asking the question now, “Tell us about it. Wasn’t he the ‘one’”. How do you say to her that your love, the one you want to spend forever with, is hers? 

“I think he was but I was an idiot, too young to understand that we should have fought through our challenges rather than me running away from them.” The honesty in your voice is raw and you’re holding down the tears. One of the bridesmaids asks, “How do you know someone is the one?” 

“J-” You almost say his name but smoothly continue without anyone noticing, “You know because there is an easiness in loving someone you know you're going to spend your life with. It comes naturally like breathing. There’s no trying to impress, no hiding parts of you. You both love each other like it’s the only thing you know how to do right. Even if you're apart, when you eventually come back together you slide right back into where you left off. Your love is infinite." 

Yeoreum starts to cry "That’s like me and Jake." The crowd of girls hurry to her side and hug her as she sobs, encouragements from her party saying how they are ‘meant to be’ flood your ears. While they are distracted you wipe a tear, that’s when you feel a hand hold yours. Mrs Sim has a mournful look on her face, her thumb swiping over the back of your hand now seated next to you. Its unexpected but this is a step up from the hateful glares and you’re more than thankful.

Her eyes hold a love for you just like those years ago, maybe it took you explaining your feelings for her to truly understand how sorry you were about the whole situation, opening her up to forgive you even a little bit.

Yeoreum composes herself, fanning her face with her hands as everyone proceeds back to their seats, everyone except Mrs Sim who stays by your side, forcing Eunseo to move to the opposite end. “Thanks, girls. Ugh I just love him so much.” 

Don’t ask it. Don’t ask it. Your brain is screaming to ask her the question that you know would set you off, “How did you two meet?” The words fall from your lips before you can catch them with your teeth.

A smile spreads widely across her face as her whole body turns to you. This is the first time you have properly examined her features and you wish you didn’t. Easily she is one of the most beautiful girls to ever exist, her small face but big features making her look otherworldly, her body is naturally slender, her black hair is long and sleek straight, her bangs fit around her face perfectly, her eyes gleamed with life and love. She was truly perfection. “We met at Apollo! You know the college in Busan?” Her eyes twinkle and you become jealous because in the past 4 years, your eyes have become dull and empty, “He was walking to class in the East block and I just thought he was the hottest guy I had ever seen.” 

Mrs. Sim delicately squeezes your hand but doesn’t spare a glance. Despite her feelings for you, she knows this isn’t easy for you and she doesn’t envy you in this situation at all. “I just walked up to him and asked him out. He was so reluctant at first, saying he was still getting over his ex,” she smiles at the memory, “and let me tell you, after that night he probably didn’t think about her again.” Yeoreum smirked as the girls squealed.

“Yeoreum, as his mother I don’t need to hear this.” Mrs. Sim scoffs, her face slightly disgusted. The bride-to-be mouthed a quick sorry and continued, “We went totally casual for a while, but you know how things escalate, he was in love with me by like the third time I met him.”

You nodded at her as she continued to tell you about her romance with the love of your life and you feel your heart slide its way into the pit of your stomach. It's nauseating how he found a love and you couldn’t even face dating anyone. But you couldn’t be mad, of course not, because you did this.

“Y/N?” You look up to see Heeseung and Jaeyun, both of them with their eyes on you purposefully. Yeoreum grabs Jaeyun’s hands yet his eyes don’t leave your face. Heeseung’s voice continues, “Can I grab you for a minute? I got a-” he pauses to think of an excuse, “I need a second pair of hands to bring out more drinks, yeah?” His eyebrow raises at you to follow along to which you nod and stand up. Noticing Eunseo’s stares you shake your head and give her a small smile. 

Heeseung’s fingers interlock with yours as he leads you away into the house and suddenly you feel like you can breathe again. “Y/N you okay? You looked like you were gonna throw up.” You look up at him, his 6”0 frame towering over you. 

“I’m fine, just asking questions I know I shouldn’t.” You let out a half-hearted laugh and smile sheepishly at him, “It’s okay. How was the game?” Proceeding to the kitchen you open the fridge to pick up the jug of margarita Yeoreum and Eunseo had lovingly made with way too much spirit and minimal mixers. 

“I still hate you for getting me caught, but we beat them so,” He shrugs and reaches from behind you to grab a six-pack of Peroni, “Wasn’t as eventful as your time at the interrogation table. I saw them all grilling you.” You snicker and disagree.

“Nah, they were just asking about my life, the usual.” It wasn’t the full truth but it wasn’t a lie either. 

Heeseung moves from behind you and leans against the kitchen island, one foot propped up on the base of the counter, swinging the beers between his legs. “How was Mrs. Sim? That must have been hard, I could feel her ice-cold stare from the other end of the garden.” He opens up the packet of 6 and hands you one, “Open this for me?” You nod and take it from him, setting the jug down to pop open the lid with the edge of the unit before giving it back to him. 

“I thought I was going to die I can’t lie, but then she was okay, I think?” You question the interaction in your head, “She was nicer to me as the afternoon went on, but I think it was pity.” Heeseung brings the bottle to his lips and sips the cold beer and his eyebrows lifted.

“I don’t think It would be pity, you know she loved you more than Jake, at least that’s what he always thought." He pauses and takes a sip from his bottle before dramatically pulling it from his lips and pointing towards you, "Fuck, didn’t she have your wedding dress practically paid for?” 

This was news to you and Heeseung guessed as much by the look on your face, “You didn’t know? She always went about how she had a separate savings account for you and Jake’s wedding. I think she still has it.”

You look at him quizically, “Wait, why would she still have it? Surely she would have put it to this wedding.” You search for a glass to pour the margarita into and wait for Heeseung to respond.

“Nah, they didn’t pay a penny for this. They don’t want him to marry her.”

“WHAT?!” You exclaim and turn around bug-eyed and mouth open, “What do you mean? His dad was saying all that nice stuff at the toast, and his mum looked like she was bursting with pride when Yeoreum was talking about Jake.” 

There was a silence in the air as Heeseung stepped forward and grabbed your shoulders, “They like her, but babe she isn’t you. Mr. and Mrs. Sim know Jake doesn-, you know what I shouldn’t be saying anything.” You plead with him to continue, gripping his hands that are placed on you, “Hee, please, Jake doesn’t what?”  

Just as Heeseung is about to divulge very useful information, Eunseo walks in with her hands up, “Ignore me, love birds, just came to get the jug of fun,” she spots it behind you and points, “Can you grab me that please?” 

Stepping back, Heeseung grabs the jug and hands it to Eunseo, “We were just coming out anyway, right angel.” 

Oh, you were going to murder him. His face smug and Eunseo’s mouth breaking into a large smile, you grab your glass and head out with them, Heeseung’s hands on your hips and lips to your ear, “Let me give her what she wants.” You turn around, eyes scolding him.

“Don’t even think about it, and don’t think I’ll let our little conversation go either.” As you walk and warn Heeseung, you’re already outside, a pair of usually wide, bright eyes, now thin as they watch you and his best friend joke around.

Jaeyun is seething.

[gwensy]

gonna be annoying in the tags

[waywardsalt]

i have. so many notes app damibeck wips

[takami-takami]

I literally NEED to write Hawks comfort to channel my emotions like I HAVE to but I cannot. I can't, like. You know.

[acescorazon]

@The cross guild simps

*Chanting*

send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request. send me a request.

[siriuslylantsov]

juno

pairing: spencer reid x college!reader

description: in which spencer gets a little worked up when the two of you dance so when you get home a few hours later, you make it up to him.

tags: MDNI! smut, fluff, alcohol consumption, established relationship, tiny age gap (reader is 23 and spencer is 27), fem!reader, softdom!spencer but also a little sub, switch!reader, spencer gets a boner at a party lol, nipple stuff, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected pinv, brief finger sucking, dirty talk (gasp), praise kink, munch!spencer (my fav), nicknames used (angel, baby, sweet girl, etc.), little bit of overstim, reader isnt inebriated during it (hazy initially) but she sobers up quick, lmk if im missing anything.

a/n: to add on to the influx of sabrina carpenter song inspired fics, here is juno. i went through a rigorous process of deciding which spencer era i wanted for this and settled on s4 spence. my first smut, this was awful and fucking exhausting to write, idk how you smut writers do it but we got through it. hope you like it...

wc: 4.2k

the room is dimly lit, candles scattered on every flat surface– this is a fire hazard, calm down spence. there's a steady buzz of conversation that passes through the room, just enough people that it isn't overcrowded nor is it too sparse, it’s a stark contrast to the other parties—loud, sweaty and cramped—that have been springing up as the semester draws to a close. the pros of having an invite-only party, you think. 

the dress code, though not formally stated, is dark and moody. god knows what that means–just wear something black and make sure it's sexy. so there you are, in a mini skirt, an off shoulder black top with sleeves that end at your knuckles, knee high boots, and a pair of sheer tights. 

spencers in a black button up and matching dress pants. he looks good, really fucking good. his hair slicked back in a way you can only describe as prince charming and eyes somehow sparkling in the low light. you have to kiss him. you peck his jaw in admiration and he shoots you a puzzled but sweet smile. 

your arm is tucked snuggly in your boyfriend’s as you talk to a guy from one of your classes. spencer knows your crowd, so you don't feel too bad when you leave him to go help the host, your friend vanessa, in the kitchen. she's mixing drinks when you get to her.

“good turn out huh?” she says, handing you a bottle to open.

“oh yeah, ness, definitely. one of my favourites so far, too,” you commend, unscrewing the top and giving it back to her.

she pours the contents into a pitcher, “thanks.” 

“but you know… what could make it better…” your tone nothing short of subtle, your eyes glinting with persuasion.

she lets out a huff. “you spend an hour without normal music and you're suffering,” she teases you all while expertly pouring margaritas into red cups.

“hey! i love your-” you pause, trying to find the right words, “nondescript jazz but.. i love sabrina carpenter a bit more.” 

you throw her your best puppy dog eyes and she concedes. “fine. my phone is on the table. you can play whatever you want if,” she bargains, holding out a tray of drinks, “you take these.” you squeal and accept her offer.

“you're a darling,” you call out from over your shoulder as you walk away.

“uh-huh,” she says sarcastically, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “don't spill!”

you put the tray down on the coffee table upon your return, grabbing vanessa's phone before settling next to spencer, who is now on the couch. the guy from your class is gone. you frantically scroll through the playlist, adding things to the queue. spencer puts his arm over your shoulders as he peers over at the screen. he's used to your antics, so he doesnt question the fact that it isn't even your phone, humming in approval when you add a song that he likes. the music starts playing at a comfortable volume from the speakers and you lean into spencer's side, quietly murmuring along, “all i can do is try, give me one chance…”

at some point, a makeshift dance floor forms. clusters of people belting the lyrics, and swaying to the rhythm. you join them, always down for an impromptu dance sesh–or at least that's what the cup in your hand suggests. spencer watches you intently from the couch, eyebrows raised in amusement as you wave your hands around expressively with the words. he loves when you sing. his eyes trace the way your skirt hugs your hips, and how your hips, in turn, move in sync with the beat. he’s mesmerised by you. 

a few songs in, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin. there’s no doubt you’re a dancing drunk. as if on cue—well, it was—'juno' starts playing, and you scan the room for spencer. you spot him in the corner, serving food onto his plate.

you rush over to him, recalling how he validated the song choice earlier. you’d played it to him for the first time a few weeks ago and he went on to explain how in roman mythology, juno is the queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage and children, similar to hera in greek mythology, and consequently, you told him about the 2007 film ‘juno’ and promised you'd introduce him to the world of michael cera, and that his life will forever be changed, when he said he hadn't seen it.

“mmph what?” he grumbles, a mouthful of egg roll muffling his words, as you pull him by the arm. you take the plate from his hand, putting it down on the coffee table and leading him into the crowd. 

you hold onto both his hands and move them between you two as you sing. 

“give it to me baby, you make me wanna make you fall in love.”

he smiles, trying to follow your movements and failing. you giggle at his attempts. 

“can't help myself hormones are high.”

you turn around and wrap his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. you try to lead him this way and he seems to catch on, moving his hips with you, it's a little stiff but it's a happy medium.

“oh late at night i’m thinkin’ ‘bout you, ah. wanna try out some freaky positions?” 

you aren't trying to drive him crazy, but the alcohol is. “have you ever tried this one?” you glance behind at him when you say this, pushing your ass back against his crotch, the feeling not lost between the layers of fabric.

you feel him tense behind you, but you don’t think much of it, assuming he felt awkward about dancing in front of people. you spin around in his arms, smiling happily, with not a hint of malice in your eyes. you’re not even teasing him—just giving in to an incorrigible need to perform, fucking theatre kids. 

he tries to play it cool but then the bridge arrives, and god save him.

“adore me,” you guide his hands to your hips. “hold me and explore me,” you lead them slowly up your body, gliding over your ribs, “mark your territory,” you press his hands firmly into your sides. you let go and loop your hands around his neck, rolling your shoulders, “tell me i'm the only, only, only, only one.”

you trail your hands down his chest as the verse repeats. you go lower till you drop to your knees in front of him, and he thinks he might die. 

“i’m so fucking horny,” no youre not, “tell me i'm the only, only, only, only one,” you are, everything.

you spring back up on your feet and start jumping, guiding him to dance with you or something to that degree. frankly, he's disoriented, your mood gone as quick as it arrived, as he tries to keep up. when, in fact, everything you just did went straight between his legs. a nervous flush spreads across his face as he feels the growing tightness in his pants, and you, oblivious to the effect you had on him–but only because you were drunk you swear– nudge his nose with yours in an attempt to calm him down. he gives you a tight lipped smile, classic spencer, and excuses himself to the bathroom, to splash water on his face or to jerk off, he doesn't know.

the party comes to a screeching halt an hour later when someone throws up on vanessa's couch and she kicks everyone out, swearing that she's never hosting at her place ever again.

you're a giggling fit as you walk down the, fairly empty, street. spencer follows close behind, a small smile playing on his face as he watches you spin. his coat hangs loosely on your shoulders–his coat and not yours because you insisted you wouldn't need one, but when the breeze hit your legs, you were sorely mistaken. he catches up with you and laces your hands together, your head lands on his shoulder now that you're all tuckered out.

after a quick subway ride the two of you make it to his apartment, having previously agreed that you'd spend the night there since you don't have any classes tomorrow. he slowly leads a tipsy you up the stairs and unlocks his door, letting you in. 

you let his coat drop to the floor as he leads you to his room, he sits you at the edge of the bed before crouching down to unzip your boots and take them off. he pulls at the waistband of your skirt, asking.

“spencer walter reid, are you trying to get in my pants?” you ask quietly, the tiredness in your voice evident as you try to tease him.

“yes,” he says with a mock seriousness that makes you laugh a little. “lift your hips angel.”

you oblige and he pulls your skirt and tights off in one go, stretching comically as the long piece of fabric peels away, in a way that only his long limbs would allow. he leans down and kisses up your shin to your knee, doing the same to your other leg, murmuring a “perfect girl,” into your skin before standing up. he makes you blush, always does. 

he walks over to his dresser to grab the pair of pyjamas you left at his place the last time you were over. he comes back with your shorts, but instead of the matching piece, he’s holding one of his t-shirts. 

“arms up please” he requests and you do, he slips your top off and offers you his hand so you can stand. 

you feel a little exposed, clad in only your bra and underwear, though he's seen you in less on multiple occasions. he bends to help you put on the bottoms. “i can dress myself, y'know?” you say, in spite of the fact that you're holding onto his shoulders as you step into the shorts. he only hums as he slides them up, tying the strings into a bow. he reaches behind you to undo the clasp, letting your bra fall. he shamelessly looks at your tits before he puts the shirt on. you shake your head minutely, amused. 

“come on,” he nudges you toward the bathroom.

you lazily brush your teeth, take your makeup off and flop onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, sinking into the pillows behind you. pillows that have accumulated over time since you started dating spencer, you had insisted a pile was the way to go and he indulged you even though most would end up on the floor in the morning–it's decorative, spence, and comfortable. 

you see spencer changing in your peripheral and sit up. you ogle him as he unbuttons his shirt. he smirks when he notices your eyes on him.

“you enjoying the show?” he probes, eyes squinting slightly.

you bite your lip coyly and nod. “mhm, very much.” you throw your duvet off lightly and step out of bed, crossing over to him. “let me help?” you ask quietly.

he lets go of his shirt and raises his palms up in surrender, letting you do it.

“i mean it's only fair, i showed you mine so you should show me yours,” you say, trailing a finger down his chest to continue unbuttoning. 

his hands find your waist and pull you closer. “oh, is that how it is?”

“afraid so, doctor reid,” you say with a shrug, sneaking your hands under the fabric to push the shirt off his shoulders. you reach down and make work on his belt buckle, trying to fight back a smile because he just makes you so… 

you slide his belt off and unbutton his pants, and sure, you can let him do the rest but what's the fun in that. so for the second time that night you get on your knees, and it hits spencer like a freight train. his breath catches as you pull his pants down. you’re about to get up when you're brought face to face with the very noticeable bulge in his underwear and you freeze.

“spencer,” he pulls you up, a little embarrassed. “you're hard,” you state, looking up at him with a crease in your eyebrow that formed in confusion.

he only sighs in response.

“please tell me that this,” you wave your hand over the clothes that were now on the floor, “didn't get you going.” 

“oh, angel no,” he lets out a low chuckle. “it’s from earlier.”

“earlier?”

“yeah uhm juno…” he says shyly.

you frown “jun- oh.”

“yup”

“oh god. oh god. spence, that's so much worse,” you deflate in realisation.

“why's that worse?”

“that was hours ago,” you say morosely, your frown returning in full force.

he laughs at your concern. “hey, i was fine, i'm a big boy,” he lies through his teeth. he wasn't fine. his trip to the bathroom lasted 15 minutes and consisted of him sitting on the closed toilet to calm down and ended when someone started banging the door for him to come out.  

you pout, feeling bad. “you should've told me.”

“yeah and then what? you would've let me take you over the coffee table,” he reasons but it only makes you flush.

“no, but we could’ve left early.” 

“yeah maybe.”

your head snaps up to meet his, eyes glinting with hope. “i could make it up to you?”

his face softens, “you don't have to do that.”

“yes i do, i want to,” you lay a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

“you’re tired,” he argues, not wanting to give in, and kisses your wrist.

“no, i'm not,” he looks at you sceptically, “i'm not. i'm actually extremely awake right now,” you defend. “and what's that thing you said? orgasms release oxytocin” you punctuate this by tiptoeing to kiss his jaw, “and uhm.. prolactin,” another but this time on his chin, “and endorphins” on the corner of his mouth, “and, oh, serotonin.” you end with a fleeting kiss on his lips and he smiles against them, gotcha. “all which promote levels of drowsiness and relaxation-” you quote, in a very poor impression of him, making him chuckle and pull you in for another kiss, promptly cutting you off. 

his hands at your waist tug you closer, bringing your hips flush together. the action causes a little bit of friction to his erection and he whimpers into your mouth. you trail your hand down and palm him. he pushes forward into your hand.

“so needy,” you chide, leaning your head back to look at him.

“don't tease,” he whines.

god you love it when he whines, and that's very apparent by the dampness you feel between your legs. “‘m sorry, baby,” you say lightly, leading him back to the bed.

you lay back on the pillows and part your legs so he can settle between them. “come here,” you whisper and he leans forward. you cup his face with your hands and close the distance between your faces. he kisses you back so profoundly, it knocks the wind out of you. you gently bite his bottom lip and the gasp he lets out, allows you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

you feel his hand snake up your shirt, fingers grazing over your ribs, pressing firmly into your sides and you realise, he's mirroring what you did with his hands at the party. his thumb passes over your nipple, barely. you arch your back in response, wanting more.

“so needy,” he repeats.

“shut up,” you mumble, pulling him closer.

he lets out a huff and takes this as his sign to grind his hips into yours. you hum at the feeling, grabbing at his shoulders to keep going but he stops and you whine. 

“you just have too much on, sweet girl,” he apologises, lifting the hem of your–his–shirt. he quickly sheds it and your shorts before returning to his previous position. now both of you are left in your underwear, and you think it's sweet, you don't know why. he resumes his motions, the friction now heightened with one less piece of fabric. 

you're breathless as his lips latch onto your neck, peppering small kisses down the side, pausing briefly to suck a mark into your skin and then moving lower. your collarbone, sternum, down the valley of your breasts. he hooks an arm under you to hold you close while his lips move to your nipple, taking the right one into his mouth and sucking. he softly pinches it between his teeth and you keen, tangling your hand in his hair. he experimentally bites down harder and your grip on his strands tightens, causing him to groan against your chest. he moves over to the neglected one and repeats, making sure you're well attended to. he stays like that till you're squirming.

he starts kissing lower, over your stomach. he hooks a finger in your underwear, you put your hand over his. “i'm supposed to be taking care of you,” you whisper, the moment so intimate you're afraid to speak any louder.

“believe me, you are,” he says, matching your volume, pulling the fabric down and off your legs.

“spencer,” you drag out.

he lays down between your thighs and presses a kiss to the flesh there. “let me do this, please. wanna get you ready.” he implores, eyes big and pleading as they meet yours. when he looks like that, how do you say no. you chew your lip as you pretend to mull it over and he grows impatient, prodding at your thigh. you smile at his fidgeting and give him a curt nod–okay, if you insist.

he dives in without missing a beat, licking a long stripe between your folds. your hips writhe instinctively so he threads an arm under your thigh and over your abdomen to hold you down. 

“oh fuck,” you gasp as his lips attach to you clit, sucking profusely. your hand finds his hair again, in need of something to hold onto, and he doesn't mind the pulling seeing as he starts to dry hump the mattress.

his free hand moves to join his mouth, fingers circling and poking at your entrance. he hums out a question to which you nod feverishly, “yes, please.” 

he inserts both fingers at once, the sudden stretch causing you to jolt, a pained moan slipping out. he pulls away, fingers still inside. 

“okay?” he asks gently, though he knows the answer.

“mhm, spencer keep going,” you breathe out, raising your hips up to make him move.

he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “please,” you add, the desperation laced in your voice not lost on you.

he smiles, pleased, “anything for you angel.”

spencer eats you out like a man starved, greedily, and that paired with his fingers–you're done for. he curls his fingers, dragging out slowly and you clench around him, moaning.

“right there huh?” he coos.

he doesn't need reassurance, knowing your body like the back of his hand but you let out a quiet “yes” in response regardless.

he’s relentless in his pace, pumping his fingers and licking over your clit incessantly. you feel it, the coil tightening in your lower abdomen. you tug his hair in warning and he hums against you, the vibration making you shiver. he speeds up, replacing his tongue with his thumb. you buck up, meeting his thrusts

“there you go, fuck yourself on my fingers. so good for me, fuck.” he mutters out praises as he hovers over you again, his lewdness makes you whine. it always throws you off when spencer swears, much less when he talks like that, but you're not complaining.

“spence-”

“you gonna cum for me? cum all over my fingers?” he says against your cheek, dotting your face with delicate pecks. the gentleness of the action compared to what he was doing to you made you dizzy.

you babble out an incoherent confirmation as you grasp at his shoulder, no doubt leaving behind crescent shaped indents. he mouths at your neck and encourages you. “i’m right here. you're doing so good, let go angel.”

You fall apart with a broken sob, back arching off the bed. his hand chases the movements of your hips while you hold him tightly. his hand slows as he feels you calm down. he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, humming contentedly at the taste. You quickly pull them out, your nose scrunched.

“i hate when you do that,” you whisper, a little dazy.

“no, you don't,” he says with a smile, dipping down to kiss you. “you good?”

you can taste yourself on his lips, “yeah,” you reply bashfully. 

“think you can handle another?” 

you nod and you watch as he takes his boxers off. he situates himself between your legs, parting them a bit more before he drags his tip between your folds a few times. you whimper at the stimulation. his eyebrows furrow in thought.

“you wanna try something?”

“yeah? what'd you have in mind?”

“could you turn around and get on your knees?” he asks tentatively, eye darting between yours for any traces of discomfort.

there is none, just a hint of confusion as you position yourself the way he wants. he comes up behind you and guides your hips back to meet his. with one hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer so your back is flush to his chest. he kisses your shoulder, trailing up to your neck. he nibbles your earlobe and leans in.

“have you ever tried this one?” he says quietly, attempting to be serious but the smile on his face betrays him.

you groan, “ugh, you're so corny,” you cover your face with your hand, using the other one to slap his thigh. he laughs, a short breathy chuckle that you feel at the back of your neck. you lean your head back on his shoulder, “just fuck me.”

he huffs, something between a laugh and a groan. he pushes into you slowly and you moan in unison. you're quick to loop your hand behind his head as he builds a steady pace. the angle is excruciating, hitting your g spot with every draw back of his hips. you clench around him and he sighs into your neck, biting lightly. you grab one of his hands at your side and wrap it around you. your head turns toward his, pressing your cheek into his nose. it isn't enough. 

“baby,” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust of his.

he knows. “i know. i know. need to see you,” his voice is hoarse as he turns you around and lays you on your back.

he wastes no time in entering you again, burying his face in your neck as he does so. its slow and deep and you can feel all of him.

“fuck, angel. you feel so good,” he whimpers, speeding up.

“yeah? you feel amazing in me, beautiful boy.”

the sentiment makes him whine whorishly, beautiful boy. you caress the back of his neck as he ruts into you. he pulls his head up and lays his forehead on yours, gasping quietly. you stick your chin up and he kisses you, soft and messy and breathless, as the two of you steal eachother’s oxygen. you break away and glance down at where your bodies meet, his eyes follow yours.

“look at you, taking me so perfectly,” his praises go straight to your core, driving you closer. he can tell by the way your walls flutter, he trails his hand down and rubs your clit in tight circles. your nonsensical sobs of please and so close are heard by him as he drives into you deeper and harder. “me too, angel girl. i've got you, wanna feel you come on my cock,” he nudges you, words strained as he chases his own release.

your second orgasm crashes into you and like dominoes, his one follows. he comes in you with a shuddering cry. the aftershocks leave you twitching as spencer lazily fucks into you, selfishly. you squirm at the overstimulation and he stills his hips.

“good girl, you did so well for me,” he coos, pushing a piece of hair out of your face. your hum of appreciation turns into a sound of protest as he tries to move.

“wait, stay like this a bit…” you trail off, pulling him onto you, keeping him in you.

he indulges you for a while, he'll get up in a minute, knowing if he doesn't you'll complain about the stickiness and blame him. for now though, he tucks both his arms under you and nestles his head on your chest. he feels you laugh under him and he sticks his head up, expression on his face quizzical.

“i didn't think that me dancing would get you going so much,” you tease, though your eyes are filled with something akin to awe as you look at him.

he laughs too, “oh you have no idea.”

m.list

[ellacove]

❝ FREAKY ON CAMERA ❞

jjk!men x fem!reader ࿐ MDNI.

𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐔𝐌. jjk men as famous p*rn stars making new content with a cute stranger

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. ft—toji, sukuna, gojo, smut, p in v, blowjob, missionary, doggy, exhibitionism, recording

──── SATORU GOJO、

when satoru met you, he had snuck into an empty cafe in hopes of hiding from paparazzi. you’re wearing an apron and an awfully angry expression when he finally notices you, your finger pointing at the ‘closed’ sign on the window. your words are drowned out, the only thing clouding his mind being how bad he wants to film his latest video right then and there and ruin you on camera for all his fans to see. now your apron is thrown on the floor somewhere along with both your bodies, hiding behind the front counter with gojo’s cock stuffed inside your cunt and his phone propped up next to you with the flash on. “help me come up with a title for this one” he insinuates tauntingly, smiling cockily as he licks his thumb before lowering it onto your swollen bud. you whine as if telling him to go on; too sweaty and tired to use your words as his hips do all the work for you. “how ‘bout “slutty cafe maid gets dicked down after her shift?”—hm?” he suggests confidentially, his hands squeezing bruises into the back of your legs as he pushes them even further down into your chest. “im not a maid, idiot.” you reply between breathes, turning your head to look at the camera. “and you can’t even tell it’s a cafe from this angle.”

──── TOJI FUSHIGURO、

toji met you at the gym. he doesn’t usually work out in public—but he’s thanking whatever god is listening that he chose today to do something different. you had the cutest black nike set on that went perfectly with his hair; he could only think about how good the match would look for a new video. “im a big fan actually,” you told him with a smile, your tongue licking a long stripe up the base of his cock after having dragged him into the shower stall after sharing a few looks. “really..” he questioned, his hand reaching down his pocket to pull out his phone. “then you don’t mind if i record this, do you?” you only looked up at him with those pretty eyes and hummed around his length in agreement, mouth too full to give him a proper answer. “i’ll be sure to tag you.” he mentioned as his head leaned back on the cold tile, and his free hand coming up to rest on the top of your head and guide you along his cock. “maybe even make a part two.”

──── RYOMEN SUKUNA、

sukuna doesnt get out much. he meets you for the first time when his staff sets up a meeting to go over his next film. you’re a well-known actress in the industry as well, and he’s been waiting decades to be paired up with you for a video. he feels a tightening in his pants when you mention how long you’ve wanted to work with him yourself, your hand coming to rest on his knee from underneath the table. he excuses the both of you not long after; insisting he needs to get familiar before the cameras start rolling next week. it’s not much later till he’s got one of your legs hiked up on a bathroom sink, panties pushed to the side and your cheek squished up against the mirror. “you got no idea how long ive waited for this pussy, girl.” he admits shamelessly as his hand grabs ahold of your chin to meet your eyes in the reflection, his breath catching in his throat at the small whine you let out. “’s even better than i imagined.”

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.” 

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought. 

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it. 

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky. 

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over. 

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.” 

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like. 

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids? 

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!” 

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery. 

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.” 

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses. 

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing. 

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced. 

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received. 

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.” 

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed. 

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing? 

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips. 

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons. 

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests. 

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth. 

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).  

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks. 

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’. 

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air. 

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.” 

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes. 

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned. 

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.” 

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?” 

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!” 

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent. 

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that. 

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still. 

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once. 

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.” 

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat. 

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.”  _____________________________

You thought about quitting. 

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck. 

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine. 

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing. 

“Hey, titty-shirt!” 

The loveliness was ruined. 

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words. 

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!” 

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring). 

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.” 

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.” 

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you. 

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house. 

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.” 

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.” 

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?” 

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers. 

“Okay.” 

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered. 

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway. 

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides. 

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks. 

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?” 

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose. 

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive. 

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?” 

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.” 

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs. 

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt. 

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen. 

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita. 

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!” 

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand. 

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-” 

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.” 

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-” 

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.” 

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.” 

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit. 

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him. 

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.” 

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles. 

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.” 

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed. 

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.” 

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?” 

“Yeah, evidence.” 

“EVIDENCE?” 

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet. 

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed. 

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines. 

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” 

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic. 

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at. 

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?” 

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled. 

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly. 

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?” 

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child. 

“Alright, but-” 

“Yes!” 

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good. 

“What happened to Belinda?” 

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.” 

“She has kids?!” 

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins. 

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean. 

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork. 

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight. 

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.” 

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way. 

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?” 

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours. 

“I think you love being treated like a slut.” 

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair. 

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?” 

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider. 

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?” 

“JEONGHAN!” 

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing. 

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious. 

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath. 

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster. 

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips. 

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you. 

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back. 

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again. 

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back. 

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt. 

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them. 

You went to work. 

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing. 

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic. 

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.” 

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little. 

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate. 

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans. 

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows. 

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached. 

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm. 

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.” 

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head. 

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips. 

“I’m tired, you just go.” 

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit. 

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat. 

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants. 

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-” 

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?” 

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-” 

“Well, then give us a ride?!” 

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left. 

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-” 

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!” 

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-” 

You’re not even sure why you lied. 

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!” 

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face. 

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-” 

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child. 

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted. 

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?” 

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-” 

“Why are you crying?” 

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had  tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern. 

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made  you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual. 

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..” 

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up. 

God, you were pathetic. 

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. 

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar. 

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-” 

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him. 

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes. 

There was a significant pause. 

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation. 

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?” 

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush. 

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you. 

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket. 

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling. 

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it. 

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze. 

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great. 

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt. 

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser. 

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his. 

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen. 

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!” 

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing. 

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing. 

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too. 

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-” 

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground. 

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae. 

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other. 

His hand dropped from your lips. 

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless. 

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?” 

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.” 

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in. 

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well. 

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?” 

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?” 

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.” 

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park. 

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway. 

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?” 

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed. 

“You’ll see.” 

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful. 

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis. 

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly. 

“What do you think?” 

Jeonghan was looking at you. 

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.” 

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well. 

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other. 

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.” 

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you. 

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained. 

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back. 

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.” 

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?” 

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second. 

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?” 

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-” 

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you. 

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face. 

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically. 

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky. 

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly. 

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.” 

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.” 

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed. 

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body. 

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily. 

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around. 

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.” 

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance. 

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear. 

“Jeonghan, please touch me-” 

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble. 

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing. 

“Jeonghan, I can’t-” 

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway. 

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it. 

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch. 

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest. 

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder. 

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.” 

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection. 

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off. 

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now. 

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties. 

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this. 

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties. 

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear. 

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.” 

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly. 

“N-ngh, fuck..” 

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.” 

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine. 

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it. 

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-” 

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face. 

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. 

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole. 

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-” 

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming. 

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face. 

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.” 

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.” 

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs. 

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit. 

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin. 

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying. 

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs. 

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples 

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it. 

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly. 

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply. 

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling. 

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.” 

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating. 

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.” 

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows. 

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock. 

It was long and right by your fucking face. 

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.” 

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up. 

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane. 

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin. 

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture. 

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?” 

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting. 

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage. 

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.” 

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply. 

Or almost perfect. 

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.” 

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue. 

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly. 

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth: 

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

[seungfl0wer]

list 1: 18, 30, 59 is driving me insane, it doesnt matter which member honestly 😭

*Didn’t Know You’d Like That*

Pairing: Jisung x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Choking, Hair Pulling, Biting, Breeding, Creampie, Unprotected (P in V), lots of dirty talk. Think that’s all? (Not Proof read)

Prompts are: 18 “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 30 “Sit” 59 “I didn’t know you liked that”. All of these are from my first prompt list (Here) I also have a second prompt list (Here)

Ugh it took me a bit to figure who I wanted to do I saw you’ve been getting wrecked by 3racha so figured to do one of them. Hope you enjoy it cause I really really did.

-🩵

Jisung sat across from you while you both played a card game. You’ve beat him the last 3 rounds, you definitely were feeling a little cocky about it too. “Ji you kinda suck” you teased pushing him with your foot you had against him under the table. “Excuse me” he scoffed tickling your foot. “I just think you’re cheating, plus there’s nothing to gain from winning.” He shrugged.

“So you don’t wanna win cause there’s nothing to gain? Wow really been hanging with Minho to long huh” you laughed. He chuckled at your words then a light bulb went off in his head. “I have an idea to make it more fun” he smiled a devilish smile “how about whoever loses next has to do a strip tease for the other.” That smug smile across his face dared you. He knew you were competitive so he knew you’d do it however what you didn’t know was this man was 100% hustling you. He was actually really good at this game and now that there was something to win he was gonna go for it.

You looked at him for a brief moment “Ji just tell me you’re horny.” You teased rolling your eyes “bet though, I’ll kick your ass again” you said with a smug smile. “I’m a man always am horny” he shrugged as he dealt the cards. You picked your hand up smirking at the cards thinking you had this in the bag. However it was so hard to read Jisung, he’s a bad liar for the most part but games like this he’s got a stone poker face. “Guess you better start stripping pretty boy.” You said putting your cards down.

The smile that creeped across your face was quickly wiped away by Jisung “I don’t think so princess” he said as he put his down revealing a perfect hand. You whined looking at him with a serious face “you cheated there’s no way” he couldn’t help but laugh at your words “nope told yeah if there’s something to gain I’ll actually do it.” He said standing up making his way to the couch. “Now I’m ready for my show sweetheart” he said that stupid smug grin creeping on him, just wanted to smack it off of him (in a loving way).

Although Jisung and you were friends this wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen you naked. Hell it wouldn’t even be the 4th time, you were always kinda whatever about being naked around him. Did he ever mind? No. Why would he? Getting to see his beautiful best friend’s body like that? He loved it, loved you were so comfortable with him. What he didn’t love though is how much you always teased him and then he was stuck just thinking about you while he fucked his fist.

You sighed getting up looking at the cocky man in front of you “fine, but don’t come crying to me when you get a boner.” You teased. You slowly made your way towards him taking off certain clothes and letting them drop to the floor. The way you moved your hips moved and the way the lights hit your curves had him in a trance. You could see his bulge growing quickly “such an easy boy hmm.” You said standing in front of him “you’re just to damn hot.” He said his words airy and hot. As you let your last bit of clothes fall you were fully naked in front of him. He felt like he was about to go crazy even more so as you went behind him leaning down towards his ear “so hard for me and I haven’t even done anything.”

Jisung almost moaned in reply his head spinning a bit from arousal. He snapped back out of it as you kept talking “such a horny man hmm? So hard for his best friend, I bet you think about me all the time when you touch yourself hm?” You said nipping at his ear. As you made your way back around you could see his body language change. His eyes were glued to you “sit” he said his voice low, it sounded almost like a growl. He pat his thigh looking at you daring you to say something smart. To his surprise though you did, siting down his bulge perfectly sandwiched itself between your folds.

He looked you over a second before he quickly started to suck on your neck making you buck your hips in return. The feeling made him go almost crazy biting harshly onto your neck you let out the loudest moan rolling your hips onto his clothed hard on. His other hand gripped at your neck moving it to give him more room as he continued the assault on it. Leaving pretty little purple marks mixed with teeth marks all over your neck. His hand gripped your throat a bit hard as the free one smacked your ass every time you moved your hips.

You were almost drooling at the sensation, your neck being a sensitive spot for you. “Fuck Ji, please- I- fuck- fuck me fuck me” you babbled your brain already to fuzzy from him. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth.” He teased pulling away from your neck latching his lips now to yours. The kiss was sloppy full of need and lust. Your tongues wrestled as you grinned on him needing any sort of friction. “Fuck princess, ok let me take my pants off quick.” He said pulling away from the sloppy kiss.

As you moved you your eyes were met with the big wet patch you had left on him. His sweats having a clear outline where you’ve been grinding. The way his eyes grew at the sight almost made him go feral he discarded his pants quickly pulling you back on his lap. Kissing you again as you grinned on his now unclothed cock. What he lacked in girth he made up in length, his cock a bit curved as well.

You both moaned at the feeling before he moved himself “take your seat on the thrown princess” he said he would have cringed at his words but he was already too far gone for that. You slowly sunk down on his cock letting the feeling of him burn into your brain. You could feel him so deep, your walls almost molding to him. Your legs went almost jelly as you tried to move “Ji-“ you said softly.

He smiled moving his hips upward “my princess is already so fucked out of her brains she can’t move? I bet you’ve been thinking of me too huh. Thinking of me filling this pretty little cunt of yours? Hmm?” His words flowed out as he moved his hip digging his nails into your ass. You nod in response making him raise a brow “oh you have, have you? Think about me fucking you hard? The feeling of me filling you so full of my cock?”

“Yes- fuck Ji” you whimpered out his words driving you crazy “and now look at you bouncing on my cock, your cunt sucking me in. I can feel how much my words are driving you crazy, your cunt squeezes around me.” He continued to ramble picking his pace up. He moved one of his hands coming down to play with your clit, god you were so sensitive right now it was crazy. The moan you let out echoed in the room, the sound drove him mad. He latched himself back to your neck biting and sucking it harshly as he fucked you deep.

You could feel your high coming it was like a damn overflowing ready to just break at any moment. Jisung griped your hair pulling your head back a bit “touch yourself as I fuck you, I want you to cum all over my cock.” He growled his hand now wrapping around your waist pulling your body close to his. You did as you were told as he fucked you mercilessly. “Ji- I’m- fuck” you cried out as you felt the damn ready to burst “fucking hell princess” he groaned out.

“I’m gonna fucking breed you so deep.” His words hit a part of you that made you go crazy. His words, his cock pounding you and the your fingers stuttering over your sensitive nub. “Jisung- fuck please f-fill me breed me- fuck jisung!” You almost screamed out the damn finally busting the strew of your moans and the way your walls gripped him had him coming undone in no time.

He gripped your body tightly as he thrusted hard deep into you before cuming deep into you. His white strings painted pictures all across your walls. The feeling of him cuming so hard inside you had another wave rush over you making your body jolt squirting all over his cock. The rush of hot liquid coating both of you, he pulled you into a loving kiss holding you so tightly to him. “Didn’t think you’d like that, that much” he smirked his eyes looked sleepy almost as he kissed you again.

You could only nod resting your head on his shoulder your body shaking a bit. He helped you get cleaned up grabbing you a drink of water as he cleaned himself off. He laid down on the couch pulling you into his arms snuggling you tightly. Your body still feeling a bit jello-y. He peppered kisses against your shoulder “such a sweet girl, you did such a good job.” He cooed “let’s watch a movie and relax hmm? Want me to order food?”

You looked up at him and kissed his lips softly “food it is, I’ll order sweetheart. You ok though?” He said softly you nod holding onto him tightly “yeah, just want cuddles” you said voice sleepy. “Of course princess anything for you.” He said kissing your head curling back into the couch with you. You both never ended up getting food, falling asleep to quickly afterwards.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[slut4celebs]

Diss Me

Billie Eilish x Reader

Trigger Warnings: SMUT, MDNI. The smut is literally so quick guys, but cunnilingus warning.

Word Count: 1,348

Request/Synopsis: "a fanfic where Billie and reader have a feud in the music industry, readerbeing the only artist who sells as much as billie does and is about billie's age, reader one day writes a diss song which is clearly about billie (but doesnt say her name) but people start to realize that diss says a lot of things which come across as really flirty. When they meet at the VMA's billie goes up to reader to demand some answers about this and reader straight up flirts with her? It can become smut or fluff from there, up to you." In which Billie and the reader have a love-hate relationship.

Please request here. :)

There was a scoff heard around the room as Billie took her headphones off. (Y/n) was at it again, trying to start bullshit drama with her. Her fingers tapped on the table in front of her in thought. For two people never meeting, there was a strong tension between the two of them. Maybe it was because they started their career at the same age, became hits at the same time, and often have their successes compared rather than mutually celebrated. Billie looked at her brother, who had a raised brow, trying to figure out exactly what her sister had been watching.

"Have you heard this new diss track about me?" She questioned, not even sure if she wanted her brother to hear it. After all, the lyrics at one point went 'I might hate her but man I wish those blue eyes stared down at me while I give her cunnilingus.' Finneas rolled his chair over to her, holding a hand out to his sister to listen to the song, and he adorned a smirk as he shook his head at (Y/n)'s antics, obviously trying to bait Billie. "I don't even know what to think of it. Is she hating on me or is she flirting with me?"

Finneas leaned back in his chair, turning back to his soundboard. This was supposed to be a writing session, but Billie was too busy obsessing over (Y/n)'s new song. "Your name isn't even in the song, Billie. What if she isn't even talking about you in it?" Oh, she definitely was talking about Billie. What gave it away was 'Your peak was at your green hair, babe.' Which wasn't at all true if HIT ME HARD AND SOFT was anything to go by. Which it was. Billie felt annoyance rumble in the pit of her stomach as she tapped her shoe. "Listen, why not just ask her about it Saturday? You two are going to see each other." Finneas reminded her with a knowing look before putting a beat together.

Billie rolled her eyes over her brother's nonchalance over this. Scooting in, she began writing some lyrics, backlash to the song. In that moment, Billie decided she needed to get her frustrations out as she wrote angrily on her paper. Her brother couldn't help but be amused over this long feud going on between the two. After all, Finneas could see that the two were very talented artists who were turned into enemies due to the media. But honestly, they would be such a force to be reckoned with if they just set aside whatever animosity they had for each other. They could probably even write a duet that would stun the world. However, people might not get that chance if they didn't get over themselves. If they would stop playing into the media's games.

Billie walked down the VMAs red carpet in a suit jacket and the currently infamous and trending bubble skirt. Her hair was pulled out of her face with gold pins. She couldn't help but feel irked when a figure got ushered behind her on the carpet. It was (Y/n), she knew by the yelling. Anyone else, she would love to share the carpet with. (Y/n), though. She'd rather be dead than there at this moment. Billie turned her head to meet (Y/n)'s gaze, a look of mirth in her eyes. "Come on, let's get a picture of you two!" People kept cheering. They couldn't just decline the photos so they posed along the carper, getting some solo shots as well.

Once inside, Billie glowered at her. The look made (Y/n) want to laugh as she kept walking forward, ignoring the thick tension. "What the fuck was that song?" She asked, growling. (Y/n) tilted her head, feigning confusion and innocence. "Oh, fuck off. Don't give me that. I reached my peak in my green hair era? You want to give me cunnilingus?" She crossed her arms, obviously not as amused as (Y/n) and Finneas were over the lyrics. There was a palpable silence that passed through them. Billie was obviously waiting on an answer. A real answer, not some bullshit (Y/n) might manufacture in the moment.

(Y/n) was about to answer when Billie pulled her into the restrooms. "If you really want to give me cunnilingus, do it. Right here, right now. Get on your knees and I'll show you who has reached their goddamn peak." She growled, the demand making (Y/n) look at her in shock. There was no one in hell that Billie was serious right now, right? But by the look in her eyes, (Y/n) could tell she was joking as her hand moved, no eye contact breaking, locking the door. "Look at you, now. You had so much to say on your diss track, but now that we're face to face, you're short on words?" She questioned, a brow raising.

Her mouth went dry as she licked her lips, looking up at Billie. "No, not lost on words, just surprised. I meant my lyrics, I do want to give you cunnilingus as you stare at me with those blue eyes." She stated, placing her purse on the counter and dropping so hard on her knees, they'd probably bruise. Billie couldn't help but feel powerful at that moment, making her musical arch-nemesis fall to her knees so easily. Billie fingers couldn't help but slide through the girl's hair in admiration, unaware she was even doing it.

(Y/n) slid down Billie's panties and immediately got to work, sliding her tongue through Billie's folds. She moaned at the taste of the girl's dripping cunt before her tongue circled around her clit. The action made Billie weak in her knees as (Y/n) began to suck on her sensitive nub. She gripped the bar that was to hold hangars as (Y/n)'s tongue made its way to her entrance. It started as kitten licks then progressed to (Y/n) eating Billie out nosily like she was her first meal in years. The sound of squelching and the mixing of their moans filled the bathroom, and Billie couldn't help the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head. (Y/n) pushed her face in deeper to her cunt, her nose hitting Billie's clit as she worked.

Embarrassment hit her with how quickly (Y/n) made her cum. The girl pulled away, both of their chests heaving. One from cumming, the other from slight suffocation of her own doing. Slick coated (Y/n)'s chin and she went to clean it as Billie's racing heart started to finally calm. "I don't hate you," (Y/n) said, shocking the black haired girl as she fixed herself. (Y/n) was applying her make-up, looking at her from the mirror. "I wrote the song because I always thought you hated me." She admitted, retouching her red lipstick, going over it with clear gloss.

Billie's brows furrowed. Making her way over, her hands fell to her hips. "I don't hate you either." She said softly. A small smile danced on (Y/n)'s lips as she turned around. The two kissed, messing up the freshly done lipstick, but neither of them particularly cared at the moment. Right now, they were just lost in each other.

"Well, how about this… We go out there together, we have fun, and then… We can go on a date or something." (Y/n) offered, holding out her hand to take Billie out of the restroom. Billie agreed and the two walked out as if (Y/n) didn't just single-handedly deliver Billie's best orgasm to her. For the rest of the night, they just spent time getting to know each other, dropping the hate that the media had forced them to have for each other. Hate that neither one of them actually had for each other. It was evident, though, that this was a case of the media putting two brilliant women artists against each other, but they were breaking the cycle.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

-

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

-

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

[t0msvi4gra]

PLS WRITE A 2008/2010 SMUT F!READER WITH TOM WHERE UR BEING REALLY BRATTY AND DISOBEDIENT SO HE FUCKS THE ATTITUDE OUT U WHILE BEING REALLLYYY DOMINANT LIKE OVERSTIMULATION AND/OR NOT LETTING READER CUM AND CALLING HER NAMES LIKE CUMSLUT, FUCKTOY, CUMDUMP, GOOD GIRL, STUFF LIKE THAT WHERE HE EATS HER OUT AND DOESNT LET HER CUM THEN FUCKS HER AND DOESNT LET HER STOP CUMMING PLSPSLSPLS THIS MIGHT BE A LOT SORRYRY

THIS IS SEXYY AND ITS NOT TOO DETAILED I LOVE DETAILED ASKSSS!!!

HARSH PUNISHMENT | TOM KAULITZ X FEM!READER

a/n this does contain forced sex. it is NOT rape so dont be in my comments telling me that it is. you dont like it? scroll and block. that easy.

you were on a date with tom and the waiter comes over.

“hi my name is corey and i’ll be your server for today. can i get you any drinks to start off with?” he asks holding his pen and pad up.

“uh yeah i’ll take a (drink)” you say looking at the menu but then looking up at him.

“and i’ll take a coke.” tom says and nods before looking at you.

“alright i’ll have those out.” he smiles and heads to get the drink.

tom looks at the server and glares at him as he walks away. “what the fuck was that?” he asks leaning in and whispering.

“what? i just looked at him.” you ask confused.

“bullshit, i saw the way you looked at him.” tom was always like this. jealous, protective and so very possessive of you, he trusted you he just had a feeling in the back of his mind you would leave him. “babe, i was just being nice thats all. i promise i would never ever do anything else with anyone.” you say trying to reassure him.

“okay whatever.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

the server comes back with your drinks. “you guys ready to order?” he asks softly, noticing toms death glare.

i nod, “yeah im ready, i would like the (favorite food) please.” you say softly, closing the menu. “of course, and for you sir?” he asks looking at tom.

“yeah i’ll just get the chicken alfredo.” he says coldly. “uh yeah i got you. alright i’ll be right out with those.” he nods and leaves.

after you get done eating tom pays and you and him head back to his car. but on the way there a college guy drops his books, “oh let me get those for you.” you pick them up and you hand them to him. “thank you” he nods and smiles and walks off and right when you turn around tom stands behind you and looks at you angrily, you know what this means.

“get. in the fucking. car.” he says quietly and lightly shoves you. you gulp and you nod and get in the car.

“youre too fucking nice you know that? you always say “oh hey im never gonna leave you, blah blah blah” but youre such a goddamn people pleaser!” he continues to yap about how much youre too nice and you need to stop being so nice to other people. and you have NEVER talked back to him because you knew what would happen but you got so sick and tired of his shit.

“TOM SHUT UP! YOU ARE ALWAYS FUCKING LIKE THIS! IM SORRY YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A DICK! MAYBE YOU SHOULD LEARN HOW TO BE NICE TO PEOPLE THAN BEING SUCH A STRAIGHT UP ASSFACE! YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND I COULD NEVER AND WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU BUT IF YOU KEEP THIS SHIT UP, IM FUCKING GONE!” you say and the silence is so loud.

tom pulls into the parking lot of his penthouse. “when we get inside, you better hide, and hide good because when i find you, i’ll give you the most excruciating punishment i have ever given you. and ill count to 5. 1… 2…” youre eyes widen and you run inside and you go upstairs and you hide in the walk in closet between clothes. you hear the door open. “gotcha” he roughly grabs you and throws you on the bed. “tom wait, im sorry, im sorry, it wont happen again.” you plead, though you secretly loved when he was like this. “you should’ve thought about that before you started talking back. youre such a fucking brat.” he rips off your clothes and he covers your mouth, and whispers in your ear, “im not going to stop until im done, you hear me?” he says almost threatening. you nod fearfully. “good.” he moves away and he spreads your legs and he shoves his middle and ring finger inside you, fucking you with him roughly.

you cant help but moan and you whimper. “fuck!” “it feels so good, doesnt it, pretty girl?” he says and he leans down to suck your clit, causing you to scream loudly. “tom s-stop.” you try to move away but he pins one of your legs down with his free hand. he leans up. “you taste so damn good. gosh i love your pussy, too bad its not gonna cum.” you instantly shake your head. “no babe, i need to cum. please.. please please!” you cry out before he pulls his fingers out of you.

he roughly tosses you on your stomach.

“you are going to take every inch of this cock. i will make you.” he says with gritted teeth.

he lifts your ass up and he spanks it hard, causing you to yelp.

he shoves his thick cock in your pussy from behind and he pounds you. “fucking take it you slut!” he groans, as he slaps your ass cheeks with both hands repeatedly until its super red. “take that you bitch.” he groans in anger and pleasure.

you moan loudly and the bed creaks and creaks. “t-t-om” you manage to get out.

“shut up and take it you bad girl, youre such a bad fucking girl.” he slams his cock inside you over and over, not letting you cum. “you never gonna cum! my bad fucktoy will never cum!” tom ends up cumming inside you. but he doesnt stop. he moans and he pulls your hair. “if you cum without my permission its going to be so much harder for you.” he says through gritted teeth. “st-stop it… i can’t t-ake it.” you weakly say, nearly passing out. “i need to cum.” you whimper. “you can take it… you wanna be my good girl right?” he asks with mock innocence. “mhm” you hum out. “then take it”

he continues to drive you mad and he groans and rubs your pussy. feeling your pussy clamp around him. “you wanna cum now?” he asks spanking you. you nod eagerly. “words babygirl.” you nod “yes, tom please i need it.” he smiles and you cum hard and he cums with you. he pulls out.

“on your knees sweetheart.” he says pushing you to your knees, slapping your lips with the tip of his big thick veiny cock. “suck it good. you can do it” he pushes his cock down your throat and fucks your mouth as he holds your head in place.

he groans and slaps you. “youre so pretty when you suck me. your throat is so tight.” he cums hard down your throat and he pulls back and he helps you up and lays you down, and lays down beside you. “youre such a good little girl.” he pulls you on his chest and strokes your hair. “im sorry i yelled at you.” you say sweetly.

“thats okay sweet girl. im sorry for yelling at you.”

[comet-forgot-you]

vampire!amber x vampire!reader

maybe a dinner party for two vampire families who are preparing for a peace treaty between themselves, amber and reader hate each other more than anyone else, so they have a fight in a secluded place until it escalates to something bigger. mess, chaos, etc or some similar dynamic, hot bloody

love your posts -🖤anon

change

warnings: smut. 18+ pls. biting, vampires, blood, amber gets off on r’s belt buckle, scissoring (?), oral, overstimulation, begging, choking but in a violent way not a kinky way. i think thats all

summary: the request basically

a/n: never written scissoring before crazy but idk yall

do not repost for any reason.

you could hear the voices of your parents just down the hallway. it had been hours since they had began working out a treaty, you and amber seemed to be a reoccurring topic between your families.

it was understandable though, the two of you had formed a sort of rivalry for one another. you werent sure when it had begun, your hatred for one another carrying on for decades. amber was rude towards you, shes been that way for a long time, but it seemed like that anger she held for you dissipated the moment her attention shifted from you to another person. it always confused you, but it made you cocky at times, you always seemed to be the only one that could make amber lose her temper.

you had managed to slip away from the conversation a few minutes ago, the drawn out discussion boring you to no end. the darkness of the hallway consumed you, only a slight difference from the dimly lit room you were previously in.

you could still feel amber’s hateful glare on you, only seeming to increase as you walked the familiar path to your bedroom. “its rude to stare,” you mutter out as you open your door.

“im not staring,” amber scoffs out, following you into your room.

“mhm, whatever you tell yourself, princess.” you peel your jacket off of your shoulders, placing it on the back of your chair.

“dont call me that.” her voice is stern.

“or what?” you ask, sitting on the edge of your bed. she doesnt answer, leaning against your desk. “why’d you follow me? didnt get to stare enough at the table? or did you just miss me?” a cocky smile paints your lips as amber rolls her eyes, crossing her arms.

“you need to get over whatever you have against me, like now. you’re the reason they’re having difficulty finding a steady ground in the treaty.” you scoff, tearing your gaze away from her.

“me?” youre surprised with her accusation. amber had always been the one to stir things up between the two of you, always sending hateful remarks your way. “sorry, i think you’re a little confused. you’re the one that need to let go of whatever it is you have against me.”

amber scoffs, her hands moving to grip the edge of the desk. “really? you always start arguments with me. you’re the one that started all of this.”

“how?”

“tara.” your eyebrows furrowed at the mention of her old best friend’s name, not knowing what it was she was getting at.

“what about her?” amber rolls her eyes pushing herself off of the desk towards you.

“you seriously dont remember?” shes in front of you now, finger pointed into your chest. “you were the one that took her away from me all that time ago.” you were even more confused now, what the hell is she talking about.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” amber rolls her eyes, letting out a strained laugh.

“you’re unbelievable, y/n,” she mumbles, shaking her head. she leans in closer to you, her forehead almost touching your own. “you’re fucking disgusting.” your eyes flicker down to her lips out of habit, and you’re drawn to press your own against them.

“am i? is that why you’re so obsessed with me?” amber pulls back slightly, and in an instant, her hand is wrapped around your throat.

“i fucking hate you,” she almost yells it, her fingers digging into the flesh of your neck. where the fuck did this come from? you grab her wrist tightly, trying your best to pull her away from you.

“what the hell?” your voice is hoarse with how tightly her grip on your neck is. she forces you up, bringing you impossibly closer to her. “let go,” you start to feel lightheaded, you’re certain finger shaped bruises will paint the skin on your neck for a few hours.

“apologize.” you don’t know what it is she wants you to apologize for. you shake your head as best you can.

“i didn’t do anything,” you force out. ambers eyes search your own and a few moments pass before she lets go of your neck, quick you replace her strong grip with her piercing fangs. “fuck!” you try to yell out, but it comes out cracked, almost muted. you can feel her sucking your blood, you can feel it drip down your neck to stain the white button up you wore.

its not long before the aphrodisiacs hit you, a quiet whimper leaving your mouth. “amber, what the hell are you doing?” she doesn’t answer, pulling away from her previous bite to bite you again on the other side of your neck. her fingers try to unbutton your shirt, but she fails, deciding to rip it off of you instead.

heat courses through your body. fuck this was hot. and unexpected, completely unexpected. “i want you,” she whispers in your ear when she finally unlatches herself from your neck. it sends a shiver down your spine. “can i have you?” fuck.

sure you weren’t expecting this, but you’ve always wanted it. you’ve always wanted amber, always craved her touch despite your shared hatred for one another. “yes,” you mumble out. amber grins, licking up all of the blood that pulses out of you.

in a blink of an eye, your back meets your bed and amber is on top of you, her thighs on either side of you. her lips meet yours for the first time, her cold fingers trailing across your cold body until they reach your bra. she doesnt even bother taking it off, pushing her fingers underneath it to tweak your nipples. you let out a moan against her lips before biting down on them, drawing blood from her. you smile softly as she hisses at the sting, your own aphrodisiac laced venom finding its way into her system as her blood coated your lips.

a loud whine leaves her lips as she grinds down against your belt buckle, your venom slowly starting to pulse through her system. your fingers are slow to unbutton her blouse, a stark difference from the way she had removed yours. the second you reach the last button, you’re pushing it off of her shoulder and tossing it to some corner of your room. amber continues grinding down against your belt buckle, chasing an orgasm from it alone.

“really, amber? gonna get off on my belt? you want me to wear it around with your cum all over it? make sure everyone knows im yours?” she lets out a stupid whine, nodding desperately. “such a fucking whore,” you mumble out as if you werent the one that would proudly wear it every day, knowing that everyone around you would be able to smell amber’s arousal on you.

“shut up,” she whimpers out. your fingers tug at amber’s nipples, eliciting a loud moan from the girl. “fuck!” she hisses, her hips gaining speed against your buckle.

“doing so good, princess,” you mumble out, pulling her closer until you’re able to bring a nipple into your mouth. amber whines out at the stimulation. you know shes close, you can feel it, you can smell it. not to mention the noises she makes as her clit hits your buckle just the right way. “gonna cum already?” you know its your venom thats making her all the more sensitive, but teasing her just felt so natural.

“yes,” she stutters out, trying her best to keep her body up right. you smiled, pushing her to sit up fully, her hips still grinding desperately against your belt. you lift her skirt up, the sight of her cunt covered in pretty lace panties nearly has you cumming in your pants.

“look at you, all dressed up. did you come here tonight hoping i’d fuck you?” amber doesn’t react. you tear your eyes away from her pretty cunt to her face, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. “holy fuck, you did, didn’t you?” amber lets her head fall slightly, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“yes,” she mutters out weakly. heat washed over your body and you cant fight the cocky smile that makes its way onto your face.

“what a slut,” you tease, your hands finding her hips under her skirt to guide her against your buckle.

its not long before amber’s orgasm washes over her, a loud moan falling from her lips. she holds herself up on your stomach, the smell of her arousal filling your senses. fuck she smelt so good. you wondered if she tasted as good as she smelt.

you flip the two of you around, amber’s back pressed against your bed and you between her thighs. you tug her skirt down her legs, her lacy underwear following soon after, leaving her cunt exposed to the air of your room. you spit on her pulsing clit, her hips bucking up to meet nothing.

“please, i cant-“

“yes you can. you can take another one amber, cant you?” she hesitates for a moment before nodding. you smile, unbuckling your belt and creating makeshift restraints for amber’s hands. you tug your pants and underwear off, leaving you both exposed. you place one leg over her thigh, bringing her other leg up for a better angle.

“fuck,” she whines out the second your cunt meets her own. your rut against her, your clits rubbing against one another. you cant help your own moans, your room filling with the sounds of both of you. amber’s restrained hands move down to grab onto your free hand pressed against her abdomen. “feels so good,” she mumbles.

your slickness mixes with her own, the filthy sound of your cunts mashing together sent waves of heat throughout your body. you press a kiss to amber’s calf, your pace on her cunt picking up slightly. amber lets out a loud moan when your fangs sink into her calf, dribbles of blood escaping your mouth. more of your venom makes its way into her system, both your senses heightening even more.

“pleasepleaseplease,” she whines out. you’re close, shes close. you don’t know how much longer you can last, her cunt feels so good against your own. you unlatch from her calf, droplets of blood falling onto your skin.

“gonna cum again, princess?” amber nods, her breathing labored.

“yes, please. wanna cum with you,” shes so fucking cute. you groan quietly, you were absolutely sure you wouldnt last another five minutes.

and you were right.

“cum with me, please. im gonna cum,” amber whimpers out. you nod, grinding down against her once more. your orgasm washes through you, amber’s loud moans signaling that hers was too. your cunt was so sensitive, and you knew hers was too, but you werent done. you needed more from her. you needed to taste her arousal now. you climb off of her in an instant, your orgasm still pulsing through you. your tongue meets her cunt and amber lets out a desperate moan.

“please, i cant. please, just, 5 minutes, please,” she begs, but it falls deaf on your ears, too consumed in her taste to hear her pleads.

“fuck amber,” you moan into her cunt, the vibrations forcing out loud moans from amber. “you taste so fucking good.” you were in heaven. amber’s arousal mixed with your own would be the death of you.

you circled her entrance with your tongue, lapping up everything that leaked out of her. amber’s restrained hands find your head, fingers lacing in your hair. she doesnt know whether or not she should pull you in or push you away, the stimulation you provide her being too much and not enough at the same time.

you lap at her cunt as if you would never taste her again before burying your tongue into her entrance. amber’s hips buck up, her clit nudging your nose softly, eliciting another moan from the girl. “its too much,” she whines, deciding to push your head away. you pull her closer to you.

“take it, princess.” your voice is stern, sending a wave of heat through the girl. you push her hands off of your head, holding them against her stomach. “keep em here like a good girl, kay?” she nods slowly, her hips bucking against your chin. you smile before going back to your ministrations against her pretty cunt.

you fuck her with your tongue, leaving her clit neglected as you do so. amber’s thighs squeeze your head as she tries to bring her clit any sort of stimulation. amber’s thighs against your head have your feeling lightheaded again, but you don’t mind, not this time. you were far too focused on amber’s pleasure to care at all about how lightheaded you were.

“yesyesyes,” amber mumbles out like a prayer, desperate moans leaving her lips. “gonna,” a loud moan leaves her lips, her orgasm crashing over her. you smile, lapping up every drop she has to offer.

minute’s pass, you lapping at her cunt gently as shockwaves of amber’s orgasm wash through her, before her thighs let loose around your head. you trail kisses up her body, thumb rubbing gentle circles against her hip. “did so good, amber,” you whisper when your lips meet her own. she smiles against you, your fingers working the restraints off of her wrists.

the second her hands are free, she’s tangling them in your hair, your hearts pounding in sync with one another. “why did you change tara?” you pull away, eyebrows furrowing.

“what?”

“i know you changed tara,” amber mumbled, eyes half lidded.

“no i didn’t.” amber’s eyebrows furrow this time.

“you didn’t?”

“i didn’t, we never talked unless she was with you.” confusion filled you both. “why do you think i turned her?”

“she smelt like you when she showed up at my door, i just thought you had changed her.”

“ive only changed one person and it was definitely not tara.” you’re sitting up at this point, looking down at her.

“who the fuck changed her then?”

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE | chapter eight!

warnings: VERY suggestive, kind of smut but not really? mentions of being drunk

You dont even know what time it is when you’re so drunk you can barely hold yourself up. Wonyoung is the most sober one, and by most sober you mean that she can’t really walk straight, but she has enough strength to pull Moka off the floor. You girls are giggling like maniacs, and by this point you cant even remember why you started laughing.

You press your back on the wall, watching as Wonyoung struggles to help your other friend. You would help too if your head wasnt spinning so much. So you stand there, looking around. Nicholas is fast asleep on the couch, meanwhile Jay and Sunghoon are nowhere to be found. Jungwon is on the platform, talking with his friends.

Your eyes rest on him for a few more seconds, just a few.. His blazer was somehow even more open now, you could see the line of his chest, even his abs. You take a deep breath, thinking about the way his hand was touching your thigh not too long ago. The way his lips were whispering in your ear, your leg on his. Fuck.

Without even realizing you’re already walking towards him, your hand on his shoulder and he immediately turns to look at you. “Hey pretty. Feeling tired?” You look at his friends, at it takes them a quick glance to understand that they need to go, leaving you and Jungwon alone. “Worse..”

You say softly, your hand slowly coming down to his arm. You still dont get too close to him, you can see the lower floor by the inside platform, but that means that people from there can see you too. Your eyes once again fall to his chest and he lets out a quiet chuckle, your hand moves on its own, touching his necklace before going just a bit down on his chest.

“I thought you weren’t interested in sleeping with me?” You raise your head to glance at him, your hand not moving from that place. “I wasn’t looking for it… but if the right time comes…” “is this the right time?” “is it not?” Jungwon has to beg his whole body to not just lean in and kiss you as if its the only thing he wanted. The way you’re looking at him, its driving him mad.

“Follow me.” You say, and he just nods, following you wherever you want, the only thing on his mind being how your lips would taste on his, how your soft skin would feel under his big hands, how much he needed to be inside you. He groans when you close the door of a random room, the lighting is so dark and blue, he could see you perfectly, but it was good enough to get him in the mood.

He doesnt think twice before pushing your back towards the wall, his body so close to yours, his hands on your waist, slowly going up and down to caress your sides. “You’ve been playing with me for days..” He whispers, biting your ear as he starts giving open mouthed kisses to your neck, you close your eyes, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

“Do you think its fair?” He bites your skin, his hands gripping even more on your hips, meanwhile yours unbutton his blazer completely. “Telling me not to get hard while you look like this..” His jacket falls on the floor with a loud thud, you open your eyes only to look at him, your hands going all around his upper body, his broad shoulders, toned chest, muscled arms.

You cant help but whine when he grabs your ass, you didnt think he could make you get so wet only by these touches. “You better shut that mouth and just kiss me before i go insane.” You dont even have to finish the sentence for his lips to be on yours, they taste even better than you would’ve thought, he’s not too rough, but he still gives you the feeling that he wants to devour you.

Your hands go between his hair, fingers wrapping with his locks as you bring him down to kiss you better, his tongue interlocking with yours, pants and groans leaving both of your mouths. You make out for a while, until your hear the announcement that the club is about to close. Fuck, is it already so late?

Jungwon pulls out of your lips, a string of saliva still keeping you attached. “Should we..?” “No.” You dont want to stop, you still have thirty minutes, you know you can make the best out of them. “We.. still got time..” You breathe out, your lips attacking his neck and chest, your hands going to his pants. He moans, and god, you didnt believe he could be so loud, but you have to admit its only turning you on even more.

The announcement goes on again and he stops your hands, you whine, too drunk to really understand how risky this is. He kisses your cheek before taking a step back. “I guess it wasnt the right time, pretty.” You watch him as he takes his blazer from the floor and puts it on, you pout, biting your bottom lip nervously.

He buttons up only one of the buttons and you pout even more, how can he be so hot even after rejecting you so casually? He takes your hand in his and brings you out of the room, your boots have been hurting like hell for hours now, you can barely walk down the stairs.

You finally reach your friends, who are standing in the parking lot, trying to figure out who should drive and who shouldn’t. “There you are!” Wonyoung pinches your cheek, and you close your eyes, too drunk and tired to even complain. “Y/n are you okay? You sure you can go home like that?” She then asks, holding your face in her hands, you just mumble.

Honestly, no. You cant go home like this, if the cameras were to catch you all stumbling around your house you’d be done for, and no other people can enter after midnight, so going back is not an option. “Its fine, she can stay with me.” Jungwon is the one to speak and you raise your head to look at him, only to then rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Yeah, no she wont.” “Sunghoon-“ “We don’t know him!” You’ve never seen Sunghoon so mad. You know he cares for you a lot, but he never really acted like this. “I’ll go with Jungwon.” You manage to say, the latter puts his arm around your waist, not wanting you to fall by any chances.

Sunghoon is about to say something but Wonyoung, whos the only other one able to actually think, speaks. “It is better for her to go with him, Hoon your parents are still home and you dont want to repeat what happened to her last year, do you?” At that point the older guy just stays silent, the answer being obvious.

Wonyoung then looks at Jungwon with the coldest glance she can provide, her hands on your head. “I’ll tell her brother she’s sleeping at my house. You better not touch her, understood?” “Who do you guys take me for? I’m not touching her when she’s so drunk.” You pout even more, damn you really had hope for something to happen.

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