#this takes place directly after An Invitation to Play

[evil-robot-cat]

I know I said it was too much to draw, but I didn't realize how much people would like Reeve talking about his second/third/fourth jobs. So here you are, the whole thing in comic form!

(patreon)

[incognit0slut]

Champagne Kisses

A night involving champagne gives you the perfect excuse to end up naked after weeks of harmless flirting. Spencer thinks one night isn’t enough.

category: smut, fluff word count: around 8k content: softdom!spencer, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (but no creampie he’s testing his pull-out game), alcohol consumption, food play (more like drink play), and i wanna say spit kink but they’re using champagne instead so does that count? a/n: merry 2025 please tell me you remember me or else i might actually cry

You’re doing it again.

You’ve been clawing at his face for the past hour, stealing fleeting glances and looking away just as quickly, because every time you do, you find the same thing.

Brown eyes. Chocolate, marbled in hazel with tiny golden speckles. Pinning you in place. Dismantling you layer by layer. And somewhere in the quiet heat behind them, in the barely-there twitch of his jaw, you’re pretty sure he’s already mapping out the fastest way to get you out of your clothes.

It’s nerve-racking. Smart Spencer you can handle, awkward Spencer you can charm. But flirtatious Spencer? Flirtatious Spencer is dangerous.

Even more so when you’re squashed between Penelope and Luke at the overcrowded booth of O'Keefe's, who are mid-argument over something you can’t even muster the energy to care. Not when long legs stretch in front of you, and strips of neon lights slice across the table in a glow that crosses his form, curving around handsome features that make him look far too inviting.

Because that’s what your mind keeps drifting to. Taking him back to your place, where the only thing glowing would be the dim light of your bedroom.

Or maybe the pale light from the hallway.

Perhaps the soft flicker of the lamp in your living room.

Either way, your mind is already drawing images of him doing whatever it is he’s picturing in his own head. The location doesn’t matter.

“Don’t you agree?”

Your gaze fall over him once more before you force yourself to look away, catching Penelope staring at you expectantly. “Agree to what?”

“That margaritas are objectively the most fun drink and clearly better than boring beer.”

This is the argument they’ve been debating for the last five minutes?

Luke scoffs from your left. He doesn’t look angry though, his expression is more amused than irritated, lips formed in a cheeky smirk. “I can tolerate margaritas if we’re on a beach. But beers are solid all year round, pop a cap and you're good to go."

“You’re such a guy."

“I'm telling you, you don't need fancy ingredients or a blender. No little umbrellas."

“Literally proving my point. Beer has no personality.”

“Are you saying I have no personality?”

Bright pink-framed glasses shift as Penelope tips her head. “If the shoe fits.”

You’re at the point where you’re no longer surprised by their arguments. Loud and pointless, is how you'd describe them. You suspect Luke does it to get a reaction, and normally you’d add fuel to the fire, because Penelope is a pretty fire-cracker when her nostrils flare in absolute indignation. But your attention is elsewhere tonight.

Knees brushing yours under the table. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. Deep set of eyes dragging over your face, your neck, the spot between your collarbone and shoulder where the pulse of your heartbeat seems to echo louder each second.

You slide with your back against the chair, thighs clamping shut. 

You feel him imprinted on you, heated gaze traveling beneath your skin. You wonder if he realizes what he’s doing, if he’s even aware of the effect all the time his eyes fall on you. Since the moment he walked in the room, since he took that seat directly across from you, and if you’re being completely honest, that glint in his eyes has been there probably for weeks now. The when of it all is a bit fuzzy.

Tonight feels adamantly different though, and you feel like you might just need a little extra something to quiet the nervous hum beneath your ribs.

But you’re not entirely sure whether it’s nerves or something far more indulgent that has your mind secretly leading you to a very unholy place. A place where you wonder if the rough, scruffy drag of his jaw feels the same below his navel.

You’re a hundred percent certain that it does.

“You know what’s a better drink?” your voice cracks, desperately needing that extra little something. “Champagne.”

Penelope’s head whips toward you. “Champagne? Here?”

You glance around the bar and raise a hand, trying to flag down the bartender.

The wood-paneled walls are covered with vintage beer advertisements, and the sticky floor is dotted with peanut shells from the complimentary bowls on every table. It’s the kind of place where the closest thing to champagne is probably prosecco poured into a plastic flute for a wedding after-party.

“What’s wrong with champagne? It’s a classic drink, great for celebration.” You order a bottle and four tall glasses before fixing her with a look. “It’s the New Year.”

She snorts. “We’re already halfway through January.”

“Penelope, we had to work on Christmas and New Year’s. We finally have this night to breathe, let me have this.”

There’s a beat of silence before she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But it still feels weird drinking champagne in a bar where the most sophisticated cocktail is a rum and coke.”

“Which is exactly why we’re elevating the night,” you reply, watching as the bartender sets the bottle down with (thank god) proper crystal flutes. You pour the first glass, the golden bubbles racing upward like tiny fireworks as you pass it to her.

Luke accepts the next glass without the same hesitation, but when you offer one to Spencer, the curly-haired man shakes his head.

“Right. I forgot you don’t really drink alcohol.”

The faintest smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t have anything against alcohol, just not in large amounts.” His gaze shifts to the bottle on the table. “I also happen not to like champagne.”

Penelope looks mildly offended. “Why not?”

“Because the carbonation overpowers the flavor. It’s hard to enjoy a drink when it’s constantly popping on your tongue.” You stifle a laugh before you can stop yourself. He looks at you. “What?”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” you reply with a grin. “Here, maybe this will change your mind.”

You pour him a glass and nudge it toward him. He simply looks from the glass to you.

“Come on,” you coax. “We’re celebrating the New Year.”

“Seventeen days late."

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"Do not ruin the fun. We’re still celebrating, and you can’t toast with water. That’s practically begging for bad luck.”

He exhales sharply, lips twitching in what might be defeat or mild amusement, before reaching across the table. Everyone raises their glasses. The instant the bubbles hit his tongue, his nose scrunches in subtle distaste, and the sound of your laughter flies through the small space.

“It’s not that bad,” you insist.

“I still don’t understand the appeal.”

Champagne isn’t exactly your first choice either. You’ve always been more of a wine person. A good wine. A rich Burgundy that makes you close your eyes on the first sip to taste the faint of autumn in a glass. But champagne feels right for the occasion.

This taste blooms on your tongue, crisp and bright with hints of green apple and citrus and that faint yeasty richness at back of your throat. They dance across your palate, leaving a lingering sweetness through your veins that doesn’t soothe your nerves so much as ignite something beneath them, something warmer, deeper, curling into your bloodstream.

It makes you very bold.

Bold enough to hold his gaze without flinching. Bold enough to let your tongue flick across your lips. Bold enough to let your foot glide slowly up the length of his long, long leg.

You’ll have him taste his own medicine.

You, too, can play with fire.

“Maybe you’re drinking it wrong,” you hum, feeling him tense for the briefest, tiniest moment before he relaxes. “There’s another way to make champagne better.”

He grips the stem of his glass. “Something tells me you have a suggestion.”

“I do.”

He tilts his head. The din of conversation around you slowly fades into a muffled hum, the clinking of glasses and Penelope’s laughter barely registering as you notice the curve of his smile, the question lingering in his eyes.

Will you show me?

And that’s how you find yourself naked between his thighs two hours later.

It started innocently enough—or at least that’s the lie you fed yourself when you watched Penelope and Luke stumble their way to the dance floor, giggling as they poured yet another round of sparkling wine. But the champagne didn’t keep your attention for long. A few more stolen glances later, you found your hand wrapping around his arm, the other clutching a half-full bottle of champagne like some reckless lifeline.

It is reckless. Even you can’t deny that. You’ve always been cautious when it comes to bringing a man home. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Spencer. Someone who already knows too many pieces of you, someone who doesn’t need to be deciphered or explained.

And maybe that’s why you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging him out of the bar.

The ride in the stuffy cab felt like an eternity and a blink at the same time that the moment your apartment door clicked shut behind you, his mouth was already on yours. You barely had time to process how surprisingly good he tasted before your clothes started to disappear.

It’s a dizzying rush of hands and heat, and you’re now standing over him, knees brushing his as he sinks into your couch.

Yes, your couch. The soft, slate-blue one you’ve spent countless evenings curled up on, legs tucked under a blanket, flipping through books or half-watching shows you never finish. But now it cradles a completely different weight—the heavy heat of him radiating with tension-laced curiosity and a barely contained lust that seems to bleed right into the fabric.

“I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” he mutters dazedly, trailing his lips along your jaw with a hand resting on your naked back.

“I can’t believe you can unhook my bra that fast.”

He catches the sheer black fabric now hanging haphazardly over your lamp where he’d tossed it aside moments ago. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Should I be concerned about how much practice you’ve had?”

“Not really. I’m a fast learner.”

That, you believe. But you’re not entirely sure if it’s his innate skill or the way your body seems to respond to him so effortlessly that leaves your lungs feeling like they’ve forgotten how to work. Breathing is no longer instinctive now. It’s a function you have to remind yourself to do as his tongue dances along the curve of your breast, and by the time he takes the achingly hard tip into his mouth, your chest tightens.

You suck in a desperate need of oxygen while he sucks the last thread of composure from you.

“Sweet.”

“Huh?”

“You—” He pulls back just enough to let his teeth graze the delicate skin before soothing it with a slow drag of his tongue, “taste sweet.”

Your hand slides to the back of his neck with a sigh. “You’re exaggerating.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bodies don’t taste like anything, it’s skin.”

Spencer shakes his head as he cups the weight of your other breast with the same care you’ve come to expect from him. Taut nipple rolls under his thumb. “How do you explain this then?”

You don’t respond. Not with words, anyway. Your body speaks first as you arch into his touch, chasing the warmth of his hands before you can form any thoughts.

“How do you explain,” he continues, his lips trailing down the slope of your stomach, “why I can’t get enough of how sweet you taste?”

Your mind finally catches up, and the words settle over you like honey itself.

“You think so?”

“It’s not a thought, it’s a fact.” He presses a kiss to the soft skin just below your navel. “I don’t know how you can taste better than this.”

Your laugh is breathless, barely steady enough to be called one. “You’re laying it on thick now.”

“I’m just being honest.”

It’s cute how he says it with such conviction, like it’s the simplest truth in the world and not a line that’s turning your legs to liquid. Your knees threaten to buckle as you step away, reaching for the half-empty champagne bottle perched on the coffee table. The glass feels cool against your overheated skin as you twist the cork free.

“What are you doing?”

“Considering your words.” You hold up the bottle, the champagne fizzing invitingly at its neck. “What do you say we make this even sweeter?”

His eyes light up with interest. “Is this where you show me the right way to drink champagne?”

You nod and sink back between his thighs. “I know you’re not big on sharing food, but I think you’re gonna like this.”

“You do realize I’ll share anything with you.”

Your lips curl into a soft smile. You’ve already learned that kissing Spencer feels deliciously messy. It’s sloppy in the way passion tends to be when control is the last thing on either of your minds, with tongues and teeth colliding in an unpolished rhythm that’s as raw as it is consuming. Adding champagne to the equation doesn’t feel like much of a stretch.

You step forward at the same time his hands fall to your hips. “There’s a trick to drinking champagne.”

“I’m listening.”

The bottle’s rim grazes your lips as you take in his appearance. His shirt is wrinkled, hanging just a little more loosely around his chest with two buttons undone. He’s the very definition of disheveled that’s entirely your doing. He looks absolutely irresistible.

“You need to linger on the taste,” you start, your voice dipping into something softer as your eyes meet his again. “Be patient. Let it sit and overwhelm your senses before you swallow.”

“You mean marinate it in my mouth?”

A giggle burst out of you. “Exactly. The longer you let it linger, the more it softens, and the sweeter it gets.”

You tilt the bottle to your lips. The sweetness starts to bloom on your tongue, subtle at first, but then richer, fuller against the roof of your mouth. There's a flicker of recognition in his eyes when you pull him closer by the nape of his neck, the exact moment he realizes what you’re about to do.

Your lips meld seamlessly with his as the Champagne slips from your mouth.

His lashes flutter briefly. There’s a soft flush spreading across his pale cheeks, and you feel the faint hum of pleasure, vibrating against the delicate curve of his skin as a liquid thread drips down your chin.

And then you’re kissing him. Or he’s kissing you. It’s hard to tell who moved first, but it doesn’t matter. His lips part further, and you swear you can taste every nuance of the champagne in a way you've never experienced before. Sharp citrus, a whisper of honeyed sweetness, and beneath it all, something clean and cool that reminds you of first snowfalls.

His lips are swollen and wet and perfectly shiny when you finally pull back.

“What do you think?”

“I think we should drink champagne every day.”

Your hand drifts to the side of his neck with a smile, thumb brushing lightly against his pulse. “Even when we’re working?”

“Especially when we’re working,” he counters, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, tasting what’s left of you. His gaze flickers to the bottle in your hand. “Can I try it?”

You pass it to him, your eyes fixed on the way he tilts it to his mouth. You’re sure the bubbles in your system aren’t the reason your pulse races as he sets the bottle aside and rises to his feet. You’re also sure that no amount of champagne is responsible for the way your lips part eagerly when his hands cradle your cheeks.

There it is again—that sweetness. It hits you the moment his mouth captures yours, but it fully overwhelms you when he tilts his head and gently coaxes the champagne from his lips to yours.

You’re not surprised at how quickly he picks this up. It’s common knowledge that he’s a very diligent person, but it’s still a bit astonishing how he’s taken to playing with a drink he supposedly doesn’t even like. This is nothing like solving cases or flexing his impossibly sharp brain, nor the crosswords you’re used to seeing him hunched over at his desk at lunch.

This requires a different kind of finesse that involves his lips and tongue rather than a pen and paper.

It also seems like he might be enjoying this even more. He leans back just enough to let his tongue sweep across the seam of your lips, collecting the last trace of sweetness clinging to you.

A thumb swipes over the wet trail under chin. “I could get used to this.”

“Champagne or me?”

“Both.”

Satisfied with his answer, your fingers trail down to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. “Do you wanna try something else?”

He quirks an eyebrow as you push down the fabric down his shoulders. You don’t say anything all the while you start to unbuckle his belt, peeling every layer of his clothing until you’ve stripped him completely bare—and would you look at that? The faint trail of hair down his belly matches the scruff shadowing his jaw.

There’s a brief pause as your eyes travel down his body, lingering on his surprisingly impressive size, and a comment sits at the edge of your tongue. You decide to let your actions speak for you.

Your delicate fingers wrap around his delicious thickness. You swipe the first signs of precum glistening over his tip with your thumb, and a low sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

He sounds like he’s in pain, and you shake your head with a playful smile curling at your lips. “Sit back on the couch.”

Spencer sinks into the cushion.

“This might get a little messy.”

His brow furrows slightly, and for a moment, he looks genuinely intrigued. What he doesn’t expect is the way you slowly pour the remaining liquid down your chest. His mouth parts in surprise, and then his gaze follows every single drop like it’s gravity itself pulling him in.

You’re mesmerizing. Always have been, actually. There is no doubt in Spencer’s mind that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met in his life. Your mind is brilliant. Your heart is kind. But watching the champagne mix with the sheen of sweat on your skin, you’re something else entirely. You look lethal. A different kind of captivating.

He’s already pulling you by the waist, and you’re a mass of giggles as you twist out of his grip to set the bottle safely aside. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Can you blame me?”

Honestly, you can’t. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably look at him the same way.

When his hands finally find your hips again, there’s no point in pretending you don’t want to be caught. You bend your knees and shift on the couch. He helps you swing your thigh over his own and deposits you in his lap.

Desperate is a good enough word to depict for him because as soon as you're close enough, he’s tasting you all over again. His tongue drags slow over the curve of your shoulder, across the hollow of your throat, and down to the soft swell of your breasts. Goosebumps ripple across your skin with every pass, every flick of his tongue, his touch leaving a trail of heat that you swear you can feel seeping into your bones.

You don’t even realize when you start to move until you feel the slow, unintentional rock of your hips into him. His cock fits snugly between your folds that you start grinding as the words fall from your lips without much thought, “What do you think of sex without a condom?”

His pupils dilated, lips parting, but no sound comes out right away.

"Spence?"

His gaze flickers to where your wet bodies are pressed together. Damp moisture from his tip smeared erotically between puffy lips, clear liquid coating his hard length.

“I think… it’s very intimate."

“Too intimate?”

"No." His fingers trail along your skin before his thumb settles just under your breast, in the delicate curve where your rib meets, and finally looks at you. "Is that what you want?"

You're bobbing your head up and down.

“Then I'd really, really like that.”

You shift your weight on your knees. “So you trust me?"

"More than anyone."

“I trust you too,” you say, your voice dipping low as your fingers wrap around his cock, guiding him to your entrance. “Can I request something, though?"

"Anything."

You pause just long enough for your words to land. “I don’t want you to come inside me.”

He exhales a soft laugh. “That can be arranged.”

His answer makes your lips twitch, but as you start to sink down, your body seems to have other ideas. There’s a resistance you didn’t expect, a sudden tautness that refuses to give.

Your eyes widen in surprise.

Oh my.

“What’s wrong?”

When you first wrapped your hand around him and took in the full reality of his size, you’d been impressed. Now you wonder if maybe you underestimated just how much he has to offer.

You bite the insides of your cheeks and try again.

“It’s been a while,” you confess quietly. You can’t even recall the last time you were this intimate with someone that the hesitation feels foreign, like a hiccup in a moment you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

And you are eager. Maybe a little too much. It feels almost ironic, considering how much you’ve thought about this, how your imagination has filled in the blanks a hundred times over. Now that it’s real, your body seems to be having second thoughts your mind absolutely isn’t entertaining.

You shift your hips, determination flaring as you take a slow breath. Left, right, up, down. But then a sharp sting shoots through you. Your face quickly twists into a grimace.

"Hey,” he calls gently, thumbs brushing gentle circles against your hip. “We can stop. You don’t have to push yourself.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You want him to push past whatever invisible barrier your body is putting up. The idea of stopping now feels more unbearable than the sting itself.

Your lips press into a stubborn frown. “No,” you say firmly. “We are not stopping.”

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm. I think my body's just being weird. I'm sorry."

His brows knits together almost immediately. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Frustration suddenly wells up in your chest, and this time your teeth sinks into your lip, unsure whether it’s the tension in the muscles between your legs or the ache of wanting him that feels stronger.

And you want him. So fucking bad.

“You need to relax,” he soothes, running his hands up your waist, past your ribs, across your back.

“I am relaxed,” you huff.

“I don’t think you’re relaxed enough.”

Before you can respond, he carefully lifts you from his lap and settles you back onto the couch. The cushions dips under your weight, and you barely have time to process the change before he gracefully drops to the floor.

“Should we move to your bed?”

He grips one of your ankles, his thumb brushing along the soft curve of your bone before he leans down, pressing warm lips to the skin above it.

“After this,” you reply, glancing at the sticky champagne trail still glistening faintly on your skin. “Don’t want my sheets getting sticky.”

There’s a flicker of amusement on his handsome face. “After this?”

“Did you think we’d be stopping after one round?”

His laughter vibrates against your calf. “How many times are we talking then?”

“Until I can’t feel my legs.”

The smile he gives you is slow and warm. It curves one corner of his mouth first, almost shy, before spreading fully, lighting up his face in a way that steals the breath right from your lungs.

“You’d let me have my way with you all night?”

“I’d probably let you have me anytime you want.”

His grin is almost blinding that you can’t help but give him a pleased smile of your own.

“Let’s focus on tonight first.” He moves to your other the leg. Delicate bone and tendon brushes against his lips. “I need to get you ready for me. Would you let me do that?"

Words fail you as his mouth moves closer, and the heat of his breath against your skin makes your entire body tense in anticipation. He presses another open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"You're still tense."

Kiss. Kiss.

“Really need you to relax.”

You try, but then again, it's impossible when his lips are so close, yet still not where you need them the most.

His name slips in a desperate whisper.

"Hm?"

"Stop teasing."

His lips quirk in response, but he doesn't argue.

He dips his head and finally— finally! —drags his tongue along your achingly wet folds. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

"Better?"

The question is entirely rhetorical.

You don’t bother answering. Words seem sparse when his actions are spelling out everything you need to know in bold, underlined strokes. His touch is distinctly different from the playful, champagne-dampened kisses he had gifted your skin.

Now he’s utterly focused. He’s researching, and it appears his diligence isn’t confined to his academic when the same focus he applies to his studies is translated so flawlessly into reading your body like a favorite book. One he’s intent on memorizing every line of, delighting in every pause and whisper between the chapters of your sighs.

It’s this thought that tickles the back of your mind when he slips a finger in. He’s always been about comprehensive understanding, and well, you’re all about empirical evidence. Right now is proof of a hypothesis you’re too pleased to confirm that Spencer Reid might just be a genius in more ways than one.

Especially in how his steady thrust of his finger syncs perfectly with the hot, wet pull of his mouth, scratching such a carnal itch that it resonates deep in your brain. You sigh in pleasure when he adds another finger, and he lifts his head then, lips shiny and pink from his ministration.

"Do you think you can take a third?"

Your heart gives a few extra thuds in your chest cavity. “Please, please.”

Look at you, reducing yourself into begging, but really, how could you resist? Who could withstand the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice dips low like velvet wrapping around your senses?

Your head tips back against the couch, a soft whimper lashing out as he adds that third finger. The stretch is almost overwhelming but oh so good.

"Does it hurt?"

You let out a loud exhale. "No."

"Tell me if it hurts."

"Feels good." Your legs fall apart even further. "Don't stop."

He smiles, and then he's doing things to your body that have you questioning how you're even still breathing. The wet, sticky slosh of your arousal fills the room, a sound so explicit it should mortify you. But then three knuckles press deeper, stroking against that rougher patch of nerves and all rational thought dissolves.

A sound you didn't even know you could make escapes your throat. You're gasping, moaning, a little bit squealing as his free hand slides up your plush thigh before finding your puffy clit. And dear god, you’re choking on the breath that lodges in your throat. You're so close it's almost unbearable. A hand shoots out, and you’re gripping his forearm with a desperation you can't even pretend to hide.

You need him inside you.

“I'm ready," you gasp harshly, your lips parting in quick, desperate puffs. "I'm ready. I’m ready.”

He has the audacity to shake his head.

"I'll decide when you're ready."

Your breath stutters even more.

Why does that sound so hot? Why does that simple, infuriatingly calm statement make your thighs clench, your pulse race, and a fresh wave of heat roll through your body?

Before you know it, he’s coaxing your orgasm from you with just the right pressure, and every movement feels like it’s designed to bring you right to the edge. You’re not surprised by how wet you are, you’ve been dripping for what feels like hours. But what does surprise you is just how much your body can take. The intensity that doesn’t wane, that keeps pushing you higher, drawing out gasp after gasp until hot syrup gushes out of you in long, sticky droplets that pool on his fingers, down to the couch.

It’s endless, relentless, and you can’t even tell where one orgasm ends and the next begins. Your hand claw at his wrist.

“Spencer,” you whine, your voice breaking on the syllables. “Sensitive.”

He stops immediately, his fingers still inside you, his other hand slipping from your clit to rest on your thigh. “Too much?”

“A little,” you smile breathlessly. “C’mere.”

He crawls towards you as you lay on your back, relaxing your thighs.

His eyes trail over you, scanning your sweat-slicked skin, lingering on your perky breasts, moving down to where your legs are fallen apart, waiting for him. The sight is so overwhelmingly enticing that he finds himself wrapping a hand around his cock, muttering a low praise under his breath, “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you are.”

Your eyes flick downward, and a spark of confidence—or maybe pure desperation—pushes your reply out without hesitation.

“Tell me again while you fuck me.”

You’re so blunt and shameless that a part of you might have blushed if you weren’t so far gone. Spencer doesn’t seem fazed, though. If anything, his eyes flash with a knowing sparkle that only deepens as he presses his bulbous head right at the shy of your entrance.

“I think I’m going to enjoy telling you,” he muses.

And Spencer is one to keep his promises.

He thinks you’re devastatingly pretty when he’s sinking into you. There’s a dazed look in your glossy eyes, and the sweetest sound coming from your lips as he stretches you in a way that leaves no part of you untouched.

He sings praises under his breath when the heavy weight of him finally settles deep inside your body. He patiently waits as your walls flutter around him, all the while his lips brushes the delicate curve of your collarbone, between low, broken whispers of how perfect you are.

Although perfection might not even capture the essence of what he sees in you at this moment. You’re a breathtaking array of contradictions. Powerful and vulnerable, fierce yet tender. You’re nothing short of divine as he gives another smooth, long thrust that pulls a sound from your lips that he knows will echo in his mind long after.

The heat of you surrounds him completely, and he swears he feels every pulse of your body welcoming him deeper. You’re slathering his entire cock with your slippery slick, and the dampness imprinting against his pelvis only seems to spur him on. He moves in steady, languid strokes, and your toes curl at the sensation burning in your belly.

He’s hitting you so good your ankles find themselves running down his back.

“Spence,” your voice is raspy and wet. “Fuck me harder.”

His quiet groan harmonizes with the rhythm of your heart. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t—”

You stop, and he looks through the mist of bliss you've shrouded him in. Your face twists, eyes going wide, lips parted to take in sharp breaths. He panics for a moment.

“You’re in pain,” he decides, reading the way your brows knit together, the way your breath stutters in your chest. It seems the most logical conclusion—until he realizes how wrong he is.

Because you’re writhing under his weight when he pushes in deeper, and your mouth trembles, not with discomfort, but with something devastatingly good.

“Oh,” he exhales. His smile is uncharacteristically smug. “It’s not pain, is it?”

You shake your head.

“You want it rough.”

It’s more of a statement than it is a question, but you’re nodding vigorously.

His restraint snaps like a frayed thread.

The next thrust is sharper, it pounds into you with enough force to shift your body slightly back against the cushions. Your lips mouth around another shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

Still. Not. Enough.

“Harder,” you slur against his tongue.

What’s a hot-blooded man to do when asked so sweetly? He answers in the only way he can.

A hand curls around the back of your knee to pull you open just enough for him to drive deeper. The angle makes you feel impossibly full, how the folds of your vulva hugs around his shaft greedily, letting him claim all the space you didn’t even know existed. You can even feel the wet drag of his cock against your swollen clit with each hard thrust, a sensation so piercing it rips a gasp from your throat and a plethora of groans wailing from the couch.

“Like this?”

The relentless thwack-thwack-thwack of skins colliding is making you delirious.

“Yes,” you cry out. “Fuck—Yes. Yes.”

Your vision blurs as you blink, and—god, you think you might actually cry. And honestly, with how full you feel, with how every nerve is sparking to life under his loud rhythm, it wouldn’t even surprise you.

Your lashes feel wet as you squeeze your eyes shut, but you force them back open, unwilling to miss the way he looks above you. Jaw tight, sweat beading at his temples, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists.

Nothing probably does, not when he moves with a rhythm that feels both gentle and crude, like he’s savoring every second so sweetly while simultaneously chasing the most carnal kind of pleasure known to mankind.

Pleasure that has you melting, pleasure that has your body fully acclimating to his size. And now you’re teetering on the edge of another intense orgasm that begins its ascent from the tips of your toes and fingertips, spiraling a tingling rush up through your legs and arms, gathering force at the pit of your stomach, and exploding into the point where you’re intimately connected.

It happens all at once.

You’re trembling.

You’re shattering.

You’re pathetically whining.

Euphoria floods every inch of your body until you’re drowning in it. A liquid fire in your veins. Your cunt clenches around him, so tight you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as keeps pressing you into the couch. Again and again and again, until you’re nothing but an incoherent mess, your words blabbered in a breathless rush of pleasure-induced nonsense.

One heartbeat stretches into two, then the muscles in his arms flexes as his pace falters. He’s shaking now, his pelvis moving in hurried, shallow thrusts as though he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach before the heat of him presses into you one last time.

He abruptly pulls out, his cock visibly pulsing in his hand and strokes himself with a stuttering groan as thick, pearly ropes splutters across your stomach. His fingers dig deeper into the back of your thigh while he continues to paint your skin in messy streaks, and you watch in fascination the moment his head tilts back in pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this beautiful.

His brows pinches in concentration for a few more seconds before his gaze slowly meets yours again, and a faint, blissful pink colors his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, looking a little out of breath. Devastatingly handsome and sweaty. Flustered in the best way.

You brush the damp hair sticking to his skin with a small, satisfied smile. “Are you kidding? That was extremely hot.”

His laughter fills every corner in the room. Then his hand drift down a comforting path down your thigh as he leans to capture the giggle tumbling from your lips with his own. It’s then you realize that kissing Spencer isn’t just enjoyable, it’s downright addictive.

You’re beginning to think he’s just as addicted to you too, because when he pulls away, it’s reluctant, his lips leaving yours with a faint, wet sound that lingers as sweetly as the kiss itself.

“Will you really let me have my way with you all night?” he asks gently, and you can’t help but wonder why he even feels the need to ask.

“Was I not obvious enough?”

You feel his smile before you see it. “Bedroom now?”

To tangle your naked limbs with his again sounds pretty close to heaven. Absolute, indulgent heaven, except for the distinct stickiness of champagne, sweat, and a cocktail of other body fluids clinging to your skin. The thought of sinking into cool clean sheets in this state makes your nose scrunch.

“We need to make a stop to the bathroom first,” you say, running a hand up his arm to squeeze his bicep. “Have you ever tried shower sex?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he admits truthfully.

You make a sound of disapproval.

“We definitely need to change that.”

-

Spencer realizes a lot of things can change in one night.

He also discovers how much he’s capable of learning in such a short period of time. Granted, he’s always been a quick study, but this is different. The hours between midnight and sunrise completely upend his understanding of things he’d only ever read about—sex, intimacy, the intricacies of how touch can feel as much like a language as words.

But beyond the newfound knowledge (and let’s face it, an entirely new appreciation for his muscles), there’s something else. Something that surprises him even more.

He likes waking up with another warm body beside him. More than likes it. There’s a strange kind of peace in the way your leg drapes over his, your hair a tousled mess against the pillow. Peace that makes him wonder if this, too, is something he could get used to.

Even if you’re hogging the blanket. He can feel the cool air on his back while you’re wrapped in most of the covers, leaving him to soak up whatever body heat he can steal by staying pressed against you. Not that he’s complaining. He’d happily stay like this for hours, but the sun is already creeping higher through your window, and your phone has been vibrating nonstop ever since he opened his eyes.

The sheets rustle as he shifts closer, mouth puffing warmly on your cheek with a breath of your name folding into your skin. You blink through heavy eyelids, and Spencer thinks you look adorable all wrapped up like a cocoon in the tangled linens.

“Hey," you croak, then clear your throat. “Morning.”

The soft rasp of your voice is even as endearing as the sight of you.

“I think we’ve already passed morning,” he says, slipping a hand under the covers, finding the goosebumps prickling on your upper arm.

“We slept in?”

“My guess is it’s almost noon.” There’s another buzz vibrating from the bedside table that stops him from pressing you against his chest. “Someone keeps calling you.”

He wonders if you can sense the slight annoyance in his voice. He wonders if he even has the right to be annoyed. It's Saturday. You clearly have plans—or at least someone thinks you do based on how persistent they've been.

If you catch the flicker of irritation in his voice, you don’t acknowledge it. You stretch lazily for your phone instead, and his attention is momentarily snagged by the way the sheet slips down your shoulder, revealing the constellation of freckles and moles he’s spent the entire night memorizing with his lips.

"Nobody’s calling.” Your thumb scrolls through the notifications. "Penelope just doesn't understand the concept of personal space when she texts."

Spencer feels the tightness in his shoulders ease, though he doesn't miss the way your eyes narrow into sleepy slits at the screen.

"Oh."

That one syllable is enough to set his mind buzzing.

"What?"

"Um."

It’s the subtle crack in your voice that hooks him. He’s never been good at sitting with unanswered questions, especially not when your expression shifts just enough to make him wonder what could possibly warrant that little noise.

He finally curls an arm around your waist, and the faint trace of your scent fills his lungs as he gently draws you back against his chest. A relentless stream of messages glares up at him over your shoulder.

Penelope [Sent 23:37]: Where are you?? Penelope [Sent 23:45]: Is reid with you? Penelope [Sent 00:05]: Did you leave? WITH HIM?? Penelope [Sent 00:17]: You did, didn't you? Penelope [Sent 00:33]: You can’t just vanish like this, you know I have questions!!!

Spencer barely registers the way his hand drifts down to rest against your stomach. He pulls you in unconsciously as his eyes scan over the flood of texts that started piling up this morning.

Penelope [Sent 09:19]: Good morning. Penelope [Sent 09:25]: Answer me. Penelope [Sent 10:24]: Seriously, are you alive? Penelope [Sent 10:39]: YOU OWE ME DETAILS. Penelope [Sent 10:48]: Last chance. Calling you in ten.

"I think she's onto us."

It’s not so much a matter of thought as it is a fact. Your words are less a theory and more a confirmation of reality, as undeniable as the relentless stream of texts lighting up your phone.

"What should I tell her?"

Spencer leans in closer. The soft scent of your shampoo drifts up, clean and faintly sweet, wrapping itself around him in a way that makes his chest ache, though he’s not sure why. He’s inhaling everything—your warmth, the curve of your shoulder brushing his chest, the way your voice carries an edge of hesitation that feels so out of place for someone like you.

And that’s what truly catches him off guard. Not the fact that Penelope is practically banging on a metaphorical door with her texts, but that you’re hesitating. You, who rarely second-guess yourself, now unsure about sharing the details of last night with one of closest people in your life.

Or maybe the surprise lies closer to home. How easily the words form in his own mind, bypassing the overthinking that usually rules him.

He has ten minutes to think before Penelope supposedly calls, but he doesn’t need ten minutes, or even ten seconds, because the answer is already there, so obvious it practically tumbles out of him.

"The truth," he hums against the crown of your hair. "You should tell her the truth."

You’re quiet for a while.

“Are you sure?"

For someone who invited him into your home, who let him press you into the couch cushions, spread you out on the cool tiles of the bathroom, and pull every sound he wanted from you on the soft give of your mattress—on your back, your front, even sideways—you seem awfully uncertain now. Very out of character.

So what’s changed this morning? Is it the stale morning breath he’s sure he hasn’t fixed yet? The mess of his curls sticking up in every direction from a night spent pressed into your pillows?

Or is it something much deeper that he hasn’t quite put his finger on?

The thought clings to him as his thumb brushes your stomach. "I’m sure," he says. "Are you?"

You hesitate for a beat too long, and that tiny pause lands heavy on his chest.

"This is going to change everything," you finally say, sounding somewhat like a warning.

He frowns. "Didn’t you want it to?"

"I did. I do." You pull in a breath that shakes on the way out. "Maybe we should discuss this before we say anything to anyone."

Your phone slips quietly onto the bed as you twist in his arms. Face to face.

"Do you like me?"

What kind of question is that?

"Did I seem not to like you last night?"

"No, Spencer, I need to hear it. Do you like me?"

He studies the delicate fold between your brows. He watches the quiver on your parted lips. And your eyes—watery and glossy and wide. Soft lashes framing the quiet expanse of irises that shimmer like glass.

He knows what you need. Spencer has spent most of his entire life reading people, pulling truths out of their silences and decoding what they can’t (or won’t) say. And even though he hates applying that skill to you, he knows this isn’t just about reassurance. You’re not only questioning what happened between you last night. You’re questioning what comes next.

The time glares from your phone over your shoulder: six minutes. That’s all he has to convince you that his feelings go far beyond fleeting lust or the heady haze of alcohol. Six minutes before Penelope inevitably interrupts.

But he’s not the greatest with words, is he?

Sure, he’s read more books than most people will touch in a lifetime. He can recite Edgar Allan Poe by heart and dissect layers of meaning in Dostoevsky’s prose like it’s second nature. But his own feelings don’t come wrapped in poetic declarations. That’s not who he is.

What he can do, though, is tell you the truth.

“You know how you told me I could have you anytime I want?”

A strand of hair brushes against your cheek as you nod.

“You’ve already had me from the very beginning.”

Your gaze softens, then you sigh sweetly, and he knows without a doubt that the truth is exactly what you need. “Before all the sex?”

“Before we even kissed.”

The distance between you slowly becomes nonexistent. You slot your knee between his thighs, a lick of smile curling at the corner of your lips.

“So… when I ran my foot up your leg?”

His lopsided smile is no different from yours. “No.”

“Last week when I wore your cardigan because the AC got too cold?”

“You looked really pretty in it, but no.”

“Last month?”

“Even before that.”

You click your tongue. “Give me a clue. A hint.”

But you don’t need clues. Clues are for puzzles, for cases that demand solving. This has never been a mystery. He’s known it for longer than he cares to admit, and he wonders if you’re asking because you genuinely don’t see it or because you just want to hear him say it.

Either way, he’ll happily say the truth as plainly as it exists in his mind.

“From the moment you joined the team.” You pause for just a heartbeat, and he reaches out to brush away the stray of hair slipping down into your eyes. “You probably didn't notice, but I couldn't stop staring at you.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse softly.

“I’m a terrible liar.”

He watches as you mull over his words. He knows you’re trying to decide whether to believe him, though he doesn’t think it’s really a question of if. You already know he’s telling the truth.

Your voice is awfully quiet that he has to perk his ears for it.

“What took you so long then?”

Because while he’s a terrible liar, he’s always been painfully good at keeping his heart to himself. Years of compartmentalizing, of burying emotions under layers of logic and detachment, have made it almost second nature. And maybe that’s why it took him so long.

That, and bad timing.

Countless abductions.

A never-ending chase after unsubs.

Death of a team mate.

And prison.

God, prison.

He wonders if these are valid reasons or just excuses. Had there ever been a perfect moment? Or had he let his fears and the chaotic nature of his job push his personal happiness to the sidelines too often?

The words knot in his throat, and in the end, all he can muster is an apology.

“I’m sorry.”

For waiting so long.

For not saying this sooner.

For only finding the courage to make a move under the guise of flirtation and champagne.

He’s selfish. He is. Because he's reaching for you based on his time, his terms, waiting until he was ready to fit you neatly into his schedule. But you simply shake your head. Because that's what you are, isn't it?

You’re selfless, and so profoundly lovely that you offered yourself to him last night without reservation. And now you’re even more radiant, wrapped in the soft light of vulnerability, tinged with doubt, yet always so giving. Pulling him closer to your chest with a hand on his back. Fingers splay across his skin, nails dragging idly along his spine.

“Don’t be,” you reply, feeling his body expand and deflate under your palm when he breathes. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

See? Selfless. The least he can do now is give you back the words you need to hear, the assurance you deserve to hear. Your foreheads press together, and he reverently lays his hand on your cheek, spreading lean fingers into your hair.

“If you must know, I do like you.”

But the word feels so inadequate for what he’s finally trying to tell you. Like doesn't even scratch the surface of how much space you take up in his mind.

"I more than like you,” he decides to add.

It doesn’t take long before you kiss him. Soft petals bloom warmly against his mouth, puffing humid breath he tastes on his tongue. A blissful moan he swallows greedily, lets it settle deep in his chest, his bones, his veins, filling every corner of him with the sweetest weight of you.

A flutter of lashes skims against his cheekbone when you tilt your head, pulling back by the barest inch. “You’ve made a huge mistake, by the way.”

The pad of his fingers presses gently on your scalp. “Why?”

“You’re never getting rid of me now.”

His thumb moves against your hairline as he takes in your words. For a moment, all he can do is absorb them, replay them, savor them. Then his eyes soften, the corners crinkling with genuine delight, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter that melts right into the narrow space between you.

He scoots impossibly closer, hoping your skin will somehow mold with his. Because after all the surprisingly creative positions he discovered with you last night, it’s the only conclusion he can come to: you fit into him. Perfectly. Soft curves finding their place against the lines of his frame, every piece of you adhering like glue to his skin.

Chest to chest, nose to nose, and lips so maddeningly close to yours that he can still taste the warmth of your breath, sweet and intoxicating in its nearness. It’s enough to drive him a little insane, though he’d argue he’s always been slightly off-center where you’re concerned.

His fingers twitch, ready to close that infinitesimal gap when the sharp buzz of your phone suddenly slices through the moment.

Six minutes.

That’s all the time the universe has granted him, and it’s woefully too short.

"Might need to block her number," you mutter under your breath as you shift slightly to reach for your phone. He watches the way your fingers fly over the screen rapidly before placing the device back on the side table.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth." Then you drop on him like a dead weight, limbs tangling in the most inconvenient ways until your head is tucked in the crook of his neck. "Also sent her an eggplant and water emoji.”

A crease forms between his brows. “What does that mean?”

You fail to keep in your laughter. “You don’t want to know.”

He’s fairly certain he does want to know. In fact, he’s starting to realize he wants to know everything about you now that you’ve given him the chance. Beyond the pull of bodies and the way they slot together so seamlessly, beyond the electricity of skin against skin.

Though he can’t deny his curiosity at one precise moment, the way you’d slightly gasped when his fingers accidentally brush around the base of your throat. He wouldn’t mind knowing what that meant for you, and, surprisingly, what that even implied for himself.

But as intriguing as that is, it’s not what lingers the most. It’s the subtleties he wants to unravel, the pieces of you he hadn’t even realized he’d been aching to explore.

Your wit, your thoughts, your mind—that lovely, intricate thing he’s admired for so long. Full of nuances and depths he hadn’t even realized he’d only been skimming the surface of. He’s sure there’s something far greater than even his endless mind could have imagined that ties to the beautiful shape of you.

And you’re so beautiful. He’s known that for years, but mere hours ago, he learned it in an entirely new language. Even when he understands seven different ways the world chooses to communicate and speaks four fluently, yours is his favorite.

Yours doesn’t need words or perfect pronunciation. It’s instinctive and warm, written in every sigh, every glance, every unspoken verse that linger in the subtle shift of your body. In every nuance of your taste.

God, your taste.

He knows you’re right, skin can’t be sweet. The dichotomy isn’t lost in him. Yet it doesn’t matter, because not even the crisp, effervescent bite of champagne compares to the warmth of you. Not even sugar, and he basically lives on sugar. In chocolate-sprinkled donuts that he grabs on the way to work, in the endless cups of coffee that fuel his day.

You’re something else entirely, beyond comprehension.

And if one night was enough to saccharine his senses with you, he can only imagine what forever could do.

[midnite-c6]

thanos and namgyu putting your bed in between theirs 🙏🙏 even if you chose to stop playing the game they are still making you go to the circle side to sleep and perhaps that night they could change your mind about the next time you vote..

this trope is js the best fr in another life im an X picker and these two teach me to b obedient to their requests💔

thanos & nam-gyu imagine !!!!!! pt. 3 💓

warnings: 18+ DARK content, noncon, sa

pleassee read at ur own risk

soooo, they're literally like dogs tryna chase you, even to as forcing you to be next to them : "shitheads, no matter what, i'm still gonna pick X. i'm not gonna be easily convinced." you tell them firsthand, and they both laugh to themselves

"she obviously won't listen to us, you think her stupid brain could handle it?" nam-gyu complained to thanos, annoyed by how thanos was so persistent in making you switch sides. you scoff since he wasn't so quiet in saying that either, "hey, fuck you, you think I'M stupid enough to play again? don't wanna die than-" "shut up, cunt." nam-gyu cuts you off, placing his hand on your mouth to shut you up, the cold metal of his ring grazing your warm skin. your instant reaction was to bite him, "agh- i'll fucking kill y-" "calm down! everybody chiiiillllll." thanos, like a saviour, stopped nam-gyu from hitting you. "i'm sure we can all have a fair agreement, everybody gets what they want. right, pretty?" thanos turned to look at you, pushing his face awfully close to yours. "and what i want iss.... you." he stares directly into your eyes, that creepy smirk with eyes you KNOW isn't sober at all.

"you could scream and cry all you want, but you know noone in this room would be bothered to help you, girl." nam-gyu whispers into your ears whilst thanos carries you to the bathroom..

nsfw beloww ＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／ ->

you were now naked, your sweaty body laying on the filthy bathroom floor, noone could hear your cries for help when nam-gyu's cock forces you to deepthroat him, his hand pulling on your hair to further be balls-deep inside your mouth.. you'd choke on him, saliva dripping all over his dick and your chin. you couldn't scream... and you couldn't fight it either, if it weren't for thanos' stupid, rough hands wrapped around your arms, pinning them to the ground, your legs placed on his shoulders as his tongue laps up and down your folds.. you try your best to wiggle away (even tho its impossible) and thanos notices, "don't even.. don't even try to pretend, baby." you could feel him smile against your pussy, that sensation leaving you to moan against nam-gyu's cock. "been trying to suck in all your juices, pretty, and.. they just keep comin' out..." thanos mocks in a baby voice, "you're dripping... so you're actually a slut...a whore, huuhhh, not that cool, confident typa girl?" you cry, but.. why did you like the sensation? his warm tongue in and out of your cunt. at this point, the ecstacy that was in his mouth was getting your pussy high. "m'not into whores like you," thanos frowns and slides his' tongue up against your clit, biting it harshly, which made you yelp in pain, causing you to lightly bite nam-gyu's dick. he hissed, roughly slapping your face. "bitch!" he pulls your hair to face you, "do that one more fucking time and i'll speeden up your death, fuck." thanos' fingers came on cue, middle and ring finger plunging inside you, making you speechless, mouth open to nam-gyu's comment. he just takes it as an invitation to stuff your mouth again, leaving a low groan at the action.

"y'know dude,," thanos looks up at nam-gyu, "maybe we should keep her, after we win." nam-gyu scoffed, flicking your forehead, "you think you deserve to live, huh?" thanos chuckled, rubbing his fingers against your clit, he doesn't care if it felt good, you were just a toy afterall, "think about it.. she feels good, right? she'll be good for in the long run, trust me, man." "pft." "trust me! her cunts still tight, anyway, right princessssss?" your visions blurry, your will to live gone, still, atleast you're useful to someone or two, two of the most evilest dumbasses you'll ever encounter in your life.

[rmview]

crushing on you, ATEEZ.

featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — an imagine of what the ateez boys are like when they have a crush on you (moments where their feelings shine)!

contents — fluff, no warnings.

hong ⊹ joong

hongjoong is one who tries to play it cool, but his crush on you is increasingly obvious through the little things he does.

it starts with how he’ll always offer to help you with your creative projects. “need help brainstorming ideas?” he’d casually ask, even if he was buried in deadlines for ateez’s next album. when you hesitated, worried about wasting his time, hongjoong would reassure you with his signature grin. “don’t worry. creative energy comes back tenfold when i’m around you.”

then there are his thoughtful gestures. during a movie night with the group, you mentioned offhandedly that you loved a specific snack from a bakery across town. the next day, hongjoong casually hands you a bag of those snacks, acting as if it was no big deal. “i passed by the bakery on my way here,” he said, but you caught the faint blush creeping up his neck when you thanked him with a warm smile.

his crush shines brightest during practice sessions. if you stop by the studio, hongjoong will suddenly become hyperaware of your presence. he’ll glance your way between moves, a small smile tugging at his lips whenever he caught your gaze. his energy would shift — he’d dance with more precision, his voice more vibrant as he rapped or sang, almost as if trying to impress you.

one evening, after practice, you complimented him. “you’re so dedicated, hongjoong. it’s inspiring to watch.”

hongjoong froze for a moment before chuckling softly, scratching the back of his neck. “it’s easy to work hard when the right person’s watching.” his words slipped out before he could stop them, and he quickly looked away, his cheeks burning red.

you laughed, your voice light and teasing. “who’s the lucky person?”

hongjoong’s lips quirked up into a smile, but he didn’t answer directly. instead, he picked up his notebook and pretended to jot something down. “maybe you’ll figure it out one day.”

seong ⊹ hwa

seonghwa’s crush on you is evident in the way he pays attention to the smallest details about you. while others might call him a perfectionist, with you, it wasn’t just about doing things well — it was about making sure everything he did for you was flawless.

whenever the group invited you over, seonghwa will quietly take charge of ensuring the space was comfortable for you. “the lighting’s too harsh,” he’d mutter, adjusting the lamps until they cast a warm glow. if he knows your favorite snacks, he’ll make sure they were prominently placed on the coffee table. “oh, these? i just picked them up randomly,” he’d lie, hiding how he’d gone out of his way to find them.

his crush also comes through in his protectiveness. if you were out together with the group, seonghwa is the one subtly checking to make sure you were warm enough or have a drink in hand. one rainy evening, you forgot your umbrella, and seonghwa immediately offered his. “i don’t mind getting wet,” he said, though you noticed how he pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he walked beside you.

during a late-night karaoke session, seonghwa’s feelings slipped through his usually calm demeanor. when it was his turn to sing, he chose a ballad — a soft, emotional song about unspoken love. his eyes flicked toward you as he sang, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

afterward, you clapped enthusiastically. “that was beautiful, seonghwa. you put so much feeling into it.”

he smiled shyly, looking down at his lap. “it’s easier to feel a song when there’s someone… special in mind,” he admitted softly, his voice barely audible over the music.

yun ⊹ ho

yunho’s crush on you is impossible to miss, given his naturally outgoing and playful personality. he isn’t shy about spending time with you, often using humor and charm to mask how nervous he actually is around you.

he’ll find excuses to be near you during group hangouts. if you are sitting on the couch, yunho will plop down next to you, grinning as he stretched his long legs. “hope you don’t mind me stealing some of your personal space,” he’d tease, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you just a second too long.

yunho’s crush is also evident in his habit of subtly showing off around you. whether it is effortlessly spinning a basketball on his finger or nailing a complex dance move during practice, he’ll always glance your way afterward to see if you were impressed. when you compliment him, his grin will widen, and he’d laugh it off. “ah, it’s nothing. just a little something i’ve been practicing.”

one day, while the group was playing video games, yunho handed you the controller and coached you through the game. “here, press this button — no, not that one!” he laughed as your character stumbled on-screen. his hand covered yours briefly to guide you, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on his cheeks.

later that evening, yunho found himself alone with you as the others stepped out. “i have fun when you’re around,” he said suddenly, his usual playful tone replaced with sincerity.

“me too,” you replied, smiling warmly at him.

for a moment, yunho considered confessing, but instead, he just grinned and nudged your shoulder. “good. then i’ll keep making sure you have fun.”

yeo ⊹ sang

yeosang’s crush on you isn’t as overt as some of the others — it is in the quiet moments, the subtle glances, and the small gestures that spoke volumes if you were paying attention. he isn’t the type to shout his feelings from the rooftops, but that doesn’t mean his emotions aren’t strong.

he always seems to notice the little things about you. if you mention being cold, yeosang will quietly drape his jacket over your shoulders without a word. when you compliment a particular drink once, he makes a mental note and starts bringing it to you whenever he has the chance. “i thought you might like this,” he’ll say casually, but his lips would twitch into a small, satisfied smile when you accept it with a grin.

yeosang’s crush would shine through during group activities. if you are participating in a game or challenge, he’ll subtly cheer you on, his quiet encouragement just for your ears. “you’ve got this,” he’d say, his tone calm but sincere, his eyes lighting up when you succeed.

one evening, while everyone was busy chatting, you caught yeosang watching you. when you met his gaze, he quickly looked away, his ears turning pink. later, he approached you with a hesitant smile. “you look really happy tonight,” he said softly.

you laughed lightly. “i am. it’s nice being here with everyone.”

yeosang’s expression softened. “it’s nice when you’re here, too,” he admitted, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t catch it. before you could respond, someone called his name, and he quickly excused himself, leaving you wondering if you’d heard him correctly.

san ⊹

san’s crush on you is impossible to miss — he wears his heart on his sleeve, and his feelings shine through in everything he does. he isn’t shy about being affectionate, always finding ways to be close to you, whether it is playfully slinging an arm around your shoulders or giving you a big, warm hug just because he can.

he was your biggest cheerleader, always hyping you up no matter what. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he’d say with a bright smile, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. if you ever doubted yourself, san was the first to reassure you. “you’ve got this. i believe in you more than anyone else.”

san’s crush also manifested in his protectiveness. if you were out together, he’d instinctively walk on the side closest to the street or make sure you were comfortable. one time, when someone made an offhand comment that upset you, san was quick to defend you, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare intensity. “hey, watch it,” he said firmly, his jaw tight as he stood by your side.

during a quiet moment at a group hangout, san handed you a small, handmade bracelet. “i made this for you,” he said, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“you made this?” you asked, surprised.

he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, i thought it’d suit you.”

when you put it on and smiled at him, san’s grin stretched from ear to ear, his heart practically melting at how radiant you looked.

min ⊹ gi

mingi’s crush on you is both endearing and awkward — his feelings make him nervous, but he can’t help the way he lights up whenever you were around. he’ll stumble over his words sometimes, his usual confidence replaced with a shy energy that only seems to surface when he is with you.

“hey, uh… how’s it going?” he’d ask, his voice a little higher than usual. if you teased him about being nervous, mingi would laugh it off, scratching the back of his head. “me? nervous? nah, i’m just… uh, thinking about something.”

his crush shows in the way he always tries to make you laugh. whether it is cracking silly jokes, pulling exaggerated faces, or doing a random dance move, mingi loves seeing you smile. “there it is!” he’d say triumphantly whenever you laugh, his own laughter following shortly after.

one time, while the group was practicing, you walked into the room, and mingi immediately straightened up, putting extra energy into his moves. he’d steal glances at you between steps, his lips quirking up into a proud grin when he noticed you watching.

later, when everyone was taking a break, mingi handed you a water bottle. “you must be thirsty after watching us, huh?” he joked, though his cheeks flushed as you accepted it.

“thanks, mingi. you’re really thoughtful,” you said with a warm smile.

his eyes widened slightly, and he looked away, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “ah, it’s nothing. i just… i like making you happy.”

mingi’s honesty caught you off guard, but before you could respond, he jumped up, clapping his hands. “alright! back to practice!” he said, his voice a little too loud, clearly trying to cover up his embarrassment.

woo ⊹ young

wooyoung’s crush on you is impossible to miss — it radiates from him in the way he teases you, how his voice softens when he says your name, and the subtle yet intentional ways he finds to touch you. he is naturally flirty, but with you, his charm carries an extra layer of sincerity that he can’t hide no matter how hard he tries.

“are you blushing? don’t tell me you’re falling for me already,” he’ll tease, his signature grin lighting up his face. but the moment you tease him back, wooyoung’s confidence would falter just slightly. “i’m not blushing,” he’ll mutter, averting his gaze while his cheeks turn a telltale shade of pink.

wooyoung always finds ways to include you in the group’s activities, dragging you into dance challenges or asking for your opinion on his outfits. once, during a karaoke night, he deliberately picked a romantic ballad and sang it while making exaggerated gestures toward you, earning playful groans from the others. “what? i’m just serenading my biggest fan!” he’d joke, though the way his eyes linger on yours betrays his true feelings.

but beneath all the playfulness, wooyoung’s crush revealed itself in quieter, more thoughtful moments. when he noticed you were tired, he’d bring you snacks or offer you his jacket. “you take care of everyone else so much,” he said softly one evening, placing a warm drink in your hands. “let me take care of you for once.”

it was during one of these moments that his feelings slipped through more clearly. you had been talking about your day when wooyoung suddenly blurted out, “you’re seriously incredible, you know that?” he froze for a second, realizing what he’d said, and then quickly tried to cover it up with a laugh. “i mean, obviously — anyone with eyes can see it.”

though he tried to act nonchalant, the way he looked at you told a different story — one of someone utterly smitten and hopelessly drawn to you.

jong ⊹ ho

jongho’s crush on you is quieter but no less meaningful. he isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but his actions always speaks louder than words. if he had a crush, it would show in the way he pays attention to you — remembering the little things you say, noticing when you are feeling off, and always being there to lend a hand.

“here,” he’d say, handing you your favorite drink before you even asked for it. when you looked at him in surprise, he’d shrug, a faint smile playing on his lips. “you mentioned it once. i thought you’d like it.”

jongho often finds himself stealing glances at you, his gaze softening whenever you aren’t looking. if you catch him, he’ll quickly look away, his ears turning red. “i wasn’t staring,” he’ll insist, his tone calm but the slight awkwardness in his voice betraying him.

when the group is together, jongho will naturally gravitate towards you, whether it is sitting next to you or offering to help you carry something. one time, during a group outing, you struggled to open a bottle, and jongho immediately stepped in. “give it here,” he said, easily twisting the cap off and handing it back to you.

“thanks, jongho,” you said, smiling up at him.

he nodded, his expression unreadable, though his ears were tinged pink. “it’s nothing. i just didn’t want you to hurt your hand.”

despite his reserved nature, jongho’s crush shines through in the rare moments he let his guard down. during a casual conversation, he suddenly said, “you’re different from anyone i’ve ever met.”

the comment caught you off guard. “different how?”

he hesitated for a moment before meeting your eyes, his gaze steady but gentle. “just… special. in a good way.” his words were simple, but the weight behind them made your heart flutter.

though he isn’t one for grand gestures, jongho’s quiet devotion and thoughtfulness makes it clear just how much he cares — without him ever having to say the words outright.

notes: i am so soft for them, it’s not a joke anymore

[hannieween]

caught up in you | joshua hong

It all started with a little, harmless lie. After telling your mother that you would bring your boyfriend to her obnoxiously high-society birthday party, you had to improvise. With no actual options to ask, you turned to your dear friend, Joshua Hong. Caught up in this lie, you could only hope that real feelings wouldn’t start to bloom… right?

› pairings: joshua hong x female reader › aus: fake dating to ?, friends with benefits, best friend joshua, obnoxiously rich reader, friends to fucking, surfer joshua › genres: fluff, angst, smut (18+) › word count: 13.1k

⌈THIS FIC IS PART OF THE LONELY HEARTS CAFE COLLAB⌋

🎧: spotify playlist

› warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (f. receiver), making out, a bit of nipple play, hard to soft sex, spanking, cream pie, slight breeding kink. pet names: baby, sweetheart (hers) joshie, shua, josh (his)

› read more

› disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

› author's note: here goes another reader self-insert for ya 🙂

› warning: this is not proofread.

CAUGHT UP IN YOU

prologue

The atmosphere felt dense with warmth and humidity. It didn’t help that the space was clouded by a giant cloud of cigarette smoke that hung in the air, so thick that the fans on the ceiling didn’t break through.

You sat on a round table surrounded by women that surpassed you in age. All friends to your mother, who sat directly across from you, shuffling a thick deck of cards. She did this expertly, her fingers holding the deck steady as the cards fell one on top of the other. Your mother was listening to one of her friends intently, squinting every time the older lady blew a big puff of smoke, almost directly to your mother’s face.

The urge to resist a laugh was nearly impossible, you had to mask it with an awkward cough. Your mother didn’t smoke, and didn’t tolerate anyone blowing smoke to her face. But in occasions such as this, the prohibition seemed to slip her very restrictive mind.

It was a Sunday evening. And on Sundays, your mother liked to spend time with her closest friends, sometimes at your childhood home, other times at one of her friends’ houses. But today, she made the invitation to everyone to spend it at the clubhouse. Her favorite place in the world since you can remember.

The place was plagued with memories from your childhood. You practically took your very first steps here when you were a baby. All the important stages of your life occurred there: learning to ride a bike, swimming, your first kiss, your first heartbreak—you could go on and on. You knew a lot of people; in fact, all of the ladies sharing the table had known you since you were a toddler.

And with that, they have seen you grow up through all of those stages of life.

With the subtlety of a cat, your mother’s eyes panned from the lady’s face and directly to yours. It was a quick glance, something that could’ve been missed in the blink of an unknowing eye. But to you, that glance carried a meaning. In a split second, the moment changed, leaving you hanging, looking for answers.

You looked to the lady talking to your mother, tuning your ear as she paused to take another long drag from her cigarette. Then, as their conversation carried on, between pauses to exhale the smoke, the puffy cloud dodged now by your mother, you understood the intention behind that glance.

“All I’m saying is that youth only lasts so much,” your mother’s friend, which you knew by Ms. Park. “One day you’re carrying them in your arms, and the other they’re getting married. It’s such an experience.”

You didn’t mean to stare, but it was hard to follow the conversation from the other side of the table.

“When I was my daughter’s age, I already had two kids,” Ms. Park said, delivering the sentence as though it were a complaint. “Now kids these days, they won’t get married; they don’t wanna have kids. It’s just a pity.”

“You do what you can to raise them right,” your mother replied, a smile forcing through the rigid features of her face. And then she looked at you again.

Your mother shuffled the deck into a pile, carefully placed in front of her. She separated the stack in two and began dealing hands of five to everyone, including you. Suddenly, the table turned into a nest of bubbling mutters, gossip, and roaring laughter from the women around you.

You looked at your hand, finding out quickly that yet again you had no luck in this game, just like the last. But it didn’t matter. You rarely lucked out.

It was around five in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set. The sky was pretty with light blue and pinkish hues, clouds crossing the air, painting white lines across in different directions. Looking out the large windows of the room, a lake stretched out to your view, where people were still partying out the last hours of the weekend.

You held your hand of cards close to your chest, eyeing the table as the women around you laid out their cards by turns, and you waited for yours. The only reason you were there was to appease your mother since it was almost her birthday.

The whirring of a ski boat directed your attention to the outside once again. The boat was cutting through the water, dragging a skier, leaving behind waves splashing against the hull. You only recognized the daredevil skier by the voice that echoed with a long, thrilling cry. The skier, of course, was your best friend Joshua Hong.  

A sigh tore from your chest before your mom called your name, her sharp voice snapping you out of it. Her gaze was darkened, the frown from your unfortunate aloofness making her forehead crease. “It’s your turn.”

You showed your game, which was not the weakest among the players on the table, but it was still weak. The game carried on, unaffected by your moves, so you continued to watch the sun setting, painting the sky in darker colors until they blended into complete darkness.

“Darling,” your mother called you as you picked up your sweater and your bag from the chair.

“Yes, mom?” You replied curtly, back tensing as you turned around to see your mother.

Your mother approached, settling a fur coat with gold ring-adorned fingers over her shoulders. “You know I’m making preparations for my birthday dinner, and Elise asked me if her daughter could bring her date and...” she paused, swallowing saliva primly as she averted her gaze to the docks outside. “When are you bringing your boyfriend to introduce me to him?”

You nearly choked on your spit. Mind reeling, it was time to fabricate a plan on the spot. Now, the boyfriend your mother might’ve been referring to was one you dated to commit ages ago. And it might’ve slipped your brain to tell her that the situationship never left its talking stages.

You could already hear the judgment that the words “I don’t have a boyfriend” would bring. The infamy that preceded you, eternally celibate, choked you beyond the power of comprehension. So, like the graceful daughter you were, you lied.

“Well, I was planning on bringing him to the party, of course,” you spat out, your tone high in the adrenaline of lying to your mother with such ease.

Your mother smiled, sighing out contently before replying. “Well, I’m looking forward to that.”

part one, fri(end)s

The sun blazed at the highest point of the sky, reflecting on the ocean. Joshua sat on his surfboard, letting the ebb and flow of the waves softly push him about. It was a quiet day; his friends had abandoned him for a morning of practice, being so that they spent the night prior at a party.

Joshua didn’t mind, he relished in the peaceful quiet that the ocean granted him; it’s vast blue extended before him and blended into the clear sky. He had paddled past the waves, chasing those that seemed exciting, but after a while, he decided to sit still, taking a moment to reflect.

He looked back to the shore, spotting something that wasn’t there when he arrived hours ago. A smile tugged at his lips, deciding at once to paddle back to shore, calling it a day.

You were lying on a towel, a book spread open and resting on your face; its paste was so mangled and worn that it showed how many times you had read the same book. Next to you was Yoon Jeonghan, who, unlike you, was sitting in the shade provided by a beach umbrella. He wore dark sunglasses and a white t-shirt, paired with pink swimsuit shorts.

You, on the other hand, were a sight to behold. Lying on the towel, with one leg crossed over the other, wearing a white bikini that made every curve of your beautiful body so seductive that everyone who passed by had to look at you at least once.

Jeonghan mumbled something under his breath, pretending to scratch the tip of his nose with one hand, and then, to top it off, he cleared his throat loudly.

“Hey guys,” Joshua sighed, brazenly lifting his surfboard to plunge it on the white sand, spraying drops of water all over your feet.

“Hey,” Jeonghan croaked nonchalant.

“Hey!” you complained, skin prickling at the feeling of the cold water on your feet. “Asshole,” you muttered, propping your body on one elbow and lifting the book from your face.

Joshua giggled sweetly, looking at the change in your expression, from genuinely annoyed to surprised, mouth gaping at him. “Sorry,” he said, leaning his head back to tussle his wet hair.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to–,” you sent a meaningful glare at Jeonghan, who just shrugged.

“I tried telling you,” Jeonghan said through his teeth.

It was then when it dawned on Joshua. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, panning from your face to Jeonghan’s, searching for indications that he might’ve stepped in while you were having a private conversation with Jeonghan.

“Ah, no, Josh. I thought you were still in the water,” you stammered, squinting as you looked up at him. Then you gave him a sweet smile.

“Of course not!” Jeonghan said, his high-tone pitch cutting through your act like it was nothing.

“I could leave,” Joshua offered simply.

You rolled your eyes. “Jeonghan shut up from now on,” you deadpanned.

Jeonghan made a face, like a kid who just broke a very expensive set of plates, with a downturned smile and eyebrows lifting on his face. “Got it,” he mumbled.

“No, Josh, you don’t have to leave,” you replied to him. “I was just telling Jeonghan what happened yesterday.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes slightly, catching Jeonghan’s suspicious expression before sitting down on the sand next to you, his body dripping water from head to toe. This was his life—mornings spent by the ocean, with sand between his toes. And his two best friends in the world, always bantering between each other.

“Ah, it was your mom’s thing, right,” he remembered, casting a look at you briefly, only to turn back to see the ocean. “How was it?”

Joshua pretended for a moment that he didn’t get Mingyu to invite him over at the very exclusive clubhouse yesterday just so he could do some water skiing, knowing full well that he could’ve just asked you instead.

You sat up on the towel with a tired sigh. “It was alright,” you said breezily, waving a hand.

“Pffft,” Jeonghan giggled, pretending to be looking at his phone. He lifted his eyes, finding you glaring at him once again. “What?” he mumbled, feigning ignorance.

You sighed out your annoyance, blinking it away as you found Joshua’s face. Droplets of water adorned his sun-kissed cheeks, his big brown eyes studying the weird atmosphere between Jeonghan, and you finally stopped at your face. “My mother’s having a party,” you grumbled.

Joshua frowned; his eyebrows had tiny specks of sand in them. “Uh… I know, she always does,” he replied, smiling as he waited for you to elaborate.

“So, um, she asked me if I’m bringing my boyfriend to her party since I haven’t introduced him to her,” you said, avoiding his gaze. You bit your bottom lip.

The frown on Joshua’s face deepened. “Boyfriend?”

Jeonghan stifled a giggle, which you tried your best to ignore, but all you wanted was to throw him the book you were holding. Instead, you copied Joshua’s pose, resting your elbows on top of your knees. “My mom thinks I’m still dating Seungcheol,” you mumbled.

“Seungcheol?!” Joshua spat, his tone rising. “That fucking prick?”

“Joshua!” you reproached. “He’s not a prick!”

There was a brief pause that Joshua left for you to keep talking because you licked your lips and drew in a breath, as though about to speak again, but when you didn’t say anything, he decided to ask. “Didn’t you stop dating Seungcheol like… months ago?”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to receive one of your glares. They failed to be severe; every time you did that, it reminded him of when you were a little girl, reproaching him and Jeonghan for whatever mischief they were up to at the moment.

“That was a year ago, Shua.”

“Mmmph,” that was all Joshua could muster.

A year ago, Joshua’s life looked very different. His destiny painted a married life, committed to his partner of years, April. A relationship that sucked everything and everyone out of his life, leaving him virtually stranded and directionless when suddenly it all came to an end. As a consequence, he missed out on a lot of things his friends did without him.

“So what, your mom thinks you’re still dating him? Why?”

“Because I didn’t tell her otherwise,” you scrunched your nose in utter shame.

“Why?” Joshua asked.

“Because I couldn’t,” you admitted, a defeated air about you as you dropped your gaze, burying your toes in the sand. “I’m tired of always having the talk, so I lied.”

The infamous talk. It usually began with a “honey, you should start reflecting about what you want in life.”

“Did you tell her you’re bringing Seungcheol to the party?” Joshua prodded, his heart skipping a beat when he thought that you might’ve dug yourself in a hole.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean–,” you cut yourself off. “My mother doesn’t know who I’m bringing to the party. She just knows I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

“But you don’t have a boyfriend,” Joshua muttered dumbly, noticing that the reason why he felt suffocated was because he feared what your answer might be.

A grin broke into Jeonghan’s facial features, an expression that Joshua knew all too well: it announced a plan that may or may not fall into mischief. This was Jeonghan’s modus operandi: start a fire, fan the flames, and then watch it burn from afar.

 “If only there was some guy that could pretend being a perfect boyfriend for over a weekend,” Jeonghan wondered, his tone rising in a dramatic one.

You frowned, sending a curious look at Jeonghan. “Right,” you blinked, your mouth parting in awe. “Oh, you’re right!” You gasped, turning to look at Joshua.

“I always am,” Jeonghan said between his teeth.

“Shua, you’re a guy!” you said excitedly, bumping his shoulder with yours to drag his curious eyes back to you.

“That is an obvious observation,” Joshua replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Where are you going with this?”

“Would you pretend to be my boyfriend for the weekend?” You asked, eyes shining at the prospect of finding a clever solution to this.

“Pretend to be your boyfriend?” Joshua parroted, blinking confusedly over the worst idea pitch he’s ever heard.

Joshua could see in your face how the crazy idea unfolded in your head. “Yeah, it’s crazy,” you shook your head lightly, giving him a look. “Forget it. I’ll probably just tell my mom that the thing with Seungcheol ended a year ago,” you sighed heavily, a sad smile painting the features of your face. “All this time she’s thought that I was dating someone; come to find out that her daughter is just as celibate as ever.”

Joshua considered your words, hearing the self-pity in them. For all the years he’s known you, he’s seen the pressure your parents exert on you, the sky-high expectations they set, and he’s also seen you reach every one of them. But ever since it struck your mother that you had reached an age where other things were expected of you, she hasn’t stopped nagging you. It always left you unhappy with yourself.

“I’ll do it,” Joshua said, his soft tone making you raise your eyes to find him. “I’ll go with you to the party,” he reassured, giving you a light smile.

“Really?” you asked, your tone rising in surprise. Your skin was glimmering under the sunlight, just like the smile that painted your face when he nodded.

“Sure, I mean,” Joshua sighed, casting a look at Jeonghan’s mischievous face. “What could harm could it do? I’d just have to stand there and make you look good, right? Plus, I get to help a friend.”

“Great!” you gasped delightfully, smiling through the gentle breeze that ruffled your hair all around you. “It’s a deal then,” you stood up grabbing your pretty beach dress. “I have to go, but I’ll text you the details about attire and everything.”

“The what?” Joshua blinked at you, feeling a little dazed from the thrill of a new experience.

You threw your pretty dress over your head, letting it fall down to your knees. “Yeah, mom is having a big party this time. She wants everything perfect and… well you know her,” you looked content as you sighed again, grabbing your sandals, shaking the sand in them. “Gotta go. See you, boys.”

Joshua watched you go, the gentle sway of your body as you went about through the sand. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“You said it,” Jeonghan replied. He had lowered his shades to see you walk away, so he was pushing them back on the bridge of his nose when Joshua looked at him. “You just have to look pretty, smile, and pretend to be the perfect boyfriend. Easy.”

“I didn’t say that,” Joshua replied, his tone flat, but a smile came to his lips.

“Yeah but it’s what you meant,” Jeonghan shifted on the lounge chair, stretching his legs with a tired groan. “She gets what she wants, and who knows, you’ll probably get something out of it too.”

Joshua stifled a laugh. “Like what?”

Jeonghan removed his shades, carefully folding them on his lap. “Like letting your ex know that you’ve moved on,” he replied matter-of-factly. “It is the perfect night for it, you know. A couple of pictures posted on social media, it’ll spread like wildfire.”

Joshua made a face, as though he had tasted something bitter. “I don’t want that,” he said, though his tone betrayed him, sounding insecure of his words. “I just want to help a friend, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah. The benevolent Joshua Hong at the rescue,” Jeonghan chanted, waving a hand dismissively. “You need a little revenge, my friend.”

Joshua scoffed at his best friend, dismissing the idea entirely. “I don’t want revenge,” he muttered, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about it.

It was as though Jeonghan had sparked the idea in his mind, and was waiting for the fuel. “Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that parading around with her—” he motioned a finger to the distance, referring to you. “—for the world to see is not a little bit of a power play?”

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but the words rang hollow even to himself.

Deep down, he couldn’t help but imagine what his ex would think if she saw that Joshua was moving on. And not only that, but moving on with you. He wondered what she’d feel after cheating on him, only to see him some six months later, standing next to you so unbothered.

Joshua shook his head, shaken by the prospect of doing something so vile. “I’ve moved forward. And I don’t need to prove it to anyone,” he licked his lips, lowering his gaze to the sand covering his feet. “Not even April.”

Jeonghan chuckled, seeing that he’d clearly gotten into Joshua’s mind. “Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, Shua.”

part two, fake it

“Are you sure about this?” Joshua asked, looking around the sleek, colorful, and stupidly expensive clothing shop. The kind of place people like you and him would find themselves shopping for clothes, though it didn’t happen as regularly for him as it did for you, or so he thought.

“Come on, it’s a cute idea,” you said, holding a matching pair of outfits for you and him to wear for your mother’s party.

The speakers played pop music, filling the air along with the low hum of conversations all around. Joshua had been following you through its mazes of clothes of all types for what felt like hours. He saw you sift through rows of beautiful dresses, skirts, and blouses, but never quite finding something that sated your eye.

Until you held up two matching outfits. One for you, one for him.

“You think it’s too much,” you said, lowering the pair of matching outfits with a deflated look in your eye.

“No, no I think it’s…” he started, knowing that look; the big eyes, the protruding lower lip that was beginning to transform into a pout. “I’ve never done something like this. Let’s do it.”

Joshua had agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and now he was standing there, trying to relax and appear effortless in front of you, as though starting to psych himself up for the big night, which was tomorrow.

“Good,” you said, biting your lower lip as you gave him a long look. “You know I wouldn’t want you to do something you don’t want to, right?”

Joshua blinked, a thought flashing in his mind. “Why do you say that?” he inquired, pronouncing each word slowly. “I told you I’d do it. I want to do it.”

You sighed tiredly. “Because this is crazy and you agreeing to it so easily makes me think that something bad is going to come out of it, you know?” you said, your words ringing with a mixture of desperation and shame.

Joshua laughed upon hearing your whines. “Relax,” he tilted his head to one side, grabbing the pair of outfits you’d picked. “Nothing bad is going to happen,” he gave you one look, studying you. “What could possibly happen?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as he motioned for the dressing rooms. “I guess that this feels like it’s too good to be true, you know?”

Joshua snorted, his nose wrinkling as he smiled at you. “Dating me too good to be true, is that what you’re saying? Got it.”

“Shut up. And it’s the other way around, silly,” you sighed, a shy smile tugging at your lips. That was the girl Joshua’s always known. Shy, but never afraid to engage in something mischievous, like your brilliant plan of pretending to be a couple just to get your mother out of your hair.

“Yeah, because you’re a serial dater, right,” Joshua nodded at you, giggling softly when you bumped shoulders with him, affecting more your stability than his.

You stumbled slightly but stopped when you were at the entrance to the dressing room, holding a nice dress in your hand. “Stay here; I want your opinion on this,” you said, raising the hook, and signalling the dress before turning away from him.

“Okay,” Joshua said, leaning against the wall and pulling out his phone.

Some minutes later, you came out of the dressing room, wearing a pretty deep blue dress that accentuated your waist beautifully. You smoothed the silk over your tummy, checking yourself out on the large mirror before turning to him. “Well?” you asked, a flat expression on your face, one that covered a slight twinge of nervousness.

Joshua eyed his phone screen, trying his best to ignore that he got a glimpse of your exposed back when you turned away from the mirror. “You look alright,” he said, clearing out his hook loudly. He pocketed his phone and swallowed back a sigh. “You look—,”

“Alright?” you scoffed, turning to the mirror again. “I look amazing.”

Joshua smiled at you, sighing in the process because you had turned your back on him. He saw the way the dress hugged your waist, the way your back looked. “You look passable. You don’t look like a gremlin in her cage anymore,” he shrugged, trying not to laugh at the dignified expression on your face.

“Please, you’re lucky to have me as a girlfriend,” you deadpanned, twirling once more in front of the mirror.

Joshua just laughed, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling flickering in his chest when you caught the way was watching you through the mirror.

You would’ve said something, mock him about it. If only weren’t for the feeling flickering inside your chest. As well.

It was nothing, you tried convincing yourself. Push it down; you commanded yourself and ignored it.

For now.

The ride over the villa was quiet. It screamed something was brewing in here, and Joshua was not sure whether he should feel danger or not.

He’d offered himself to pick you up and drive to the villa that your mother rented for the weekend. Joshua thought that the idea of a cliffside villa was extravagant, and you seemed to think the same way too, by saying that it was exclusive and would have nowhere to run if you and him needed to—just in case everything went to complete hell.

You were only meant to spend the night of the party there. So you just packed a bag with everything essential, makeup remover, toothbrush, mouthwash, pjs, underwear and a change of clothing.

Joshua looked too calm and collected for your liking, because you were totally the opposite. He wore a pair of dark pants, and a black t-shirt that he meant to change into a dress shirt once he got to the destination. His slick brown hair was styled carefully, a single strand of hair hanging on the middle of his forehead perfectly.

You let out a loud sigh. “It’s not too late to turn the car around,” you muttered sullenly. “I could tell my boyfriend got into a car accident, or was abducted by aliens… or eaten by a troll.”

“Aliens don’t exist,” Joshua giggled merrily, glancing at your face while keeping the wheel steady with one hand.

“So you’re saying trolls do?” you retorted, smirking smugly at him.

“Yeah, I’m looking at one,” he pointed, laughing harder when you slapped his shoulder.

“Clown,” you muttered under your breath.

“You love me,” he said, flashing you what you called his shit eating grin.

“I tolerate you,” you pointed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua shook his head, pointing a finger at you. “No, no, you adore me,” he said playfully, shrugging with an effortless air around him. “Admit it. You’d be lost without me in this mischievous little plan of yours. Just admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching to grab your tumbler that you had forgotten in the cup holder.

Joshua watched you sip from your green tea, which had gone cold, looking out the window as the car continued its smooth ascent up the road. Joshua’s phone, which was mounted on the dashboard of his BMW, estimated thirty minutes to arrive at the cliffside. “Hey,” Joshua called, dropping his foolish act at once. He used a hand to nudge at your knee, demanding your attention to him.

“Yeah?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your tone indicated that you hadn’t taken any offence from the playful banter, since this was the way you and him always behaved, since childhood.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone soft in a way that made your insides melt at once.

Your expression softened. “Yeah, I’m—,” you swallowed hard, the tension in your stomach wasn’t easing. The thought of stepping into your mom’s party was making you feel on edge, you could already imagine it, the scrutinizing stares, the subtle judgement, the backhanded comments. The endless reminders that you weren’t living up to the family name, to what your mother had already accomplished when she was your age.

“I just hate that I’m never going to be good enough for her, you know,” you sighed, dropping your gaze to your hands holding your tumbler. “And now I’ll have to perform in front of everyone to be perfect.”

Even if when you accomplished some things for yourself, it was never because of your own effort. Your success only happened because she aided it. That’s how your mom saw it, that’s how everyone at her party saw it too.  

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m here to make it all worse,” he grinned, trying to get that spark in your eyes again.

You resisted the urge of shoving his arm. “Shut up, Shua.”

He giggled softly, but then something about the gloomy look on your face pushed him to be serious. “Seriously. I get it,” he shrugged. Deep down, he felt what you were going through. Not living to everyone’s expectations was hard.

A long time ago, Joshua was decided to follow down a path that looked so different to where he was now. He was supposed to propose to April. Live a happy married life with her, until everything blew to ash, showing him what the reality was. No romance can truly blossom when both hearts have grown indifferent to it, no matter how hard you try.

Maybe that was why this whole plan of yours felt easier than it should have.

“So…” he crooned. “Are we talking about ground rules or are we just winging this?” he asked when the estimated time of arrival marked fifteen minutes.

“Ground rules,” you decided, nodding your head primly.

He smirked. “Good,” he said. “I don’t want you falling in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes so hard he almost saw them turn into white completely. “Right,” you huffed. “Because you’re the hottest one of us in this relationship.”

“Finally, a little bit of honesty,” he sighed, grinning widely.

You stared at him. “Rule number one, no touching.”

Joshua snorted. “Don’t you think that will decrease the chances of your mother believing this?”

“Right,” you sighed. “Hand holding is okay, I guess. You could put a hand on my waist, if we’re having trouble selling it.”

Joshua eyed you, trying to focus on the road ahead but the thought of putting a hand on your waist after seeing what you’ll wear on the party made him slightly dizzy. “Got it,” he muttered. “Pet names?”

“Uh, I’d rather vomit in my own mouth, thank you,” you scoffed, using a hand to toss your hair away from your shoulder. You looked at him through the corner of your eye. “No kissing either.”

“What, are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me or…” he joked, the smirk on his face deepening.

“Wipe that fucking smirk of your face, Hong,” you deadpanned. “And no, I’m more afraid I’ll be scarred for life.”

Joshua laughed, shaking his head lightly. “Okaaaay,” he rolled his eyes. “No kissing, no pet names. Anything else?”

You took a moment to think, racking your brain to remember what it felt like when you dated Seungcheol. You hated that he called you doll, or that he wanted to kiss you all the time and in front of everyone. And above all, you hated that after the thing crashed and burned, he was weird with his friends about it.

“Don’t be weird after this, please,” you said, your tone flat and your face serious. “This ends when the party does, alright?”

“Alright,” Joshua agreed effortlessly.

But you kept going. “I don’t want to find out that you’re telling other people about it in a weird way like that loser—,”

“I get it!” Joshua interrupted, laughing at the maniacal way you were talking. “No being weird about it.”

“Good,” you nodded, satisfied.

“That goes both ways, then,” he said.

“Obviously.”

Joshua tapped his thumbs on the wheel, his mind spinning with all the information he just got from you. No kissing, no touching, no being weird, he kept repeating to himself. “One more thing,” he started, trying to stay focused on the road. “What if a guy tries to hit on you in the party?”

“What do you mean?” you asked slowly, trying to decipher where he was going with it.

“Should I just stand back and let it happen? Or should I cut in and punch him?”

Your eyes widened at the thought of Joshua punching someone. “This isn’t some bar where you can start a brawl in!” You chastised, tone rising in exasperation.

“I’m only theorizing!” Joshua giggled. “What, would a perfect boyfriend just stand back and watch it happen?”

“No!” you replied with an obvious tone. “But do not start a fight at my mom’s party!”

“Then what should I do in that case?” Joshua retorted, already knowing his question was stupid.

“It’s fine if you act possessive, but no punches, okay?” you said.

Joshua shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, woman,” he muttered.

“Joshua.”

He grinned. “Okay, okay,” he giggled in clear surrender.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw you sigh, a smile painting the pretty features of your face.

The villa your mother rented offered you a room with two large beds that connected through a large bathroom. The rooms were large, both had a balcony overlooking the cliff, the ocean stretching out to your view.

You were standing in front of a mirror, looking at yourself for the umpteenth time, it felt like. You wanted to look good, but not spectacular. You wanted to be seen, but at the same time you wanted to go unnoticed.

Through the mirror, you saw him peek through the crack of the door before softly knocking three times. “May I?” he called.

“Come in,” you replied, turning your back to the mirror to see him entering the room.

“Hey you,” he said, smoothing out his dress shirt and extending his arms at his sides as if presenting himself to you.

“Hey you,” you replied sweetly.

“Well?” he said, leaning against the door frame. “How do I look?”

Your heartbeat faltered. You had chosen a dress shirt that matched the color of your dress perfectly, thinking that you’d look good in that color. But what you hadn’t foreseen was that Joshua would go with that color perfectly. He looked gorgeous, hair slicked back, the upper buttons of the shirt undone, absentmindedly fixing the cuffs on his sleeves as you pretended to study him.

“You look fine,” you replied dismissively.

“Pfffft.”

You huffed in defeat. “You look handsome.”

“I know,” he showed you his infamous shit-eating grin, winking an eye at you. “Are you ready?”

You released a big sigh. “Just let me put on my shoes,” you said, sitting on the armchair pushed to the corner of the room.

Joshua saw you put on your high heels, the skirt of your dress hiking up your crossed legs as you buckled the belt around your ankles with delicate fingers. You stood up, walking up to him. His gaze flickered over you, just briefly, before he smirked, because you looked beautiful.

“Let’s go,” you said, not knowing what you saw in his eyes.

“Let’s go,” he replied, clearing his throat awkwardly.

The elevator ride to the ballroom was quiet, and this was the kind of quiet that neither you nor Joshua knew how to respond to. It didn’t scream danger, between you two, but at what expected both of you when you reached the floor.

Your stomach tightened as the elevator doors parted with the softest ding. “Okay,” you whispered to yourself. But then your breath caught, Joshua’s fingers slipped between yours, intertwining them like it was as natural as breathing to him.

You raised your gaze to look at him, his expression blank, almost as though he was stepping into a different man. But then he lowered his gaze at you, his brown eyes bringing you peace at once.

“Showtime,” you breathed.

He nodded at you, and you could’ve sworn in that moment—Joshua Hong looked nervous.

The ballroom was stupidly lavish, golden chandeliers filled with crystals, waiters in white gloves moving gracefully among the groups of guests, and a live band playing softly in the background. Everywhere you looked, you saw familiar faces: business magnates, celebrities, people my mother adored and people that you had spent years trying to avoid.

Joshua felt you tense up at his side, and he softly tugged your hand pulling you closer to his side as though saying, “Walk by my side,” when you started using him as a shield from the onlookers.

It worked, because when you started walking side by side with him, it was as if you had also stepped in a persona, same way that Joshua did before. His poise was elegant, carefully tailored to this world. He was perfect for this. And you better match up to that, you thought.

“What are we doing first, say hi to mom, or straight to the bar?” Joshua muttered at your side, his tone coated with the same playfulness as before.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his unseriousness. “I think first order of business has to be saying hi to mom,” you said, lifting your head to look at him.

Your stomach clenched again, because Joshua was giving you the most adoring look you had ever received in your life. Oh, he’s good at this, you thought, seeing his lips twitch in the tiniest of smiles.

“Don’t be smug about it,” you whispered, chastising him.

“What, I can’t have a little fun with this?” he asked, giggling softly as you huffed again.

“Oh, sweetheart!” your mother cooed in the distance, cutting what little hope you had of this plan going well, because you turned on your heels, nearly losing balance if it weren’t for Joshua holding you steady.

“Mom!” you gasped. “Hi!” you said, your tone unnaturally high.

Joshua tightened his grip on your hand slightly, as though commanding you to relax. And it worked, you released a breath, trying to expel your nervousness as best as you could.

Your mother approached, her heels clacking against the white marble floor. She opened her arms at you, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs when she pulled you into a hug. Your heartbeat raced as you released Joshua’s hand to clumsily wrap your arms around your mother.

“You look divine, baby,” your mom said, bringing a hand to pat the back of your head.

“Thanks, mom,” you replied, reveling in her approval.

“Oh, you must be the not-so-mystery man,” she released you from the warmest hug she’s ever given you, only to smile at Joshua and offer her hand at him. Which Joshua took, shaking hands primly with your mom.

“Happy birthday, ma’am,” he said smoothly, uttering your mother’s name as though he had asked you hours before, which he didn’t. “I hope that you still remember me; Joshua Hong,” he said, flashing a charming smile at her.

“And here I thought that you were committed to keep me in suspense forever. I stand corrected.,” she straightened her back, giving you a look that only made the hair of your arms stand. “But why did you omit that you were dating your dear friend Joshua?”

You showed her an unamused smile. “Surprise.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to be content that my daughter isn't completely unapproachable,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with her gold-adorned fingers.

Joshua blinked, and he saw it. He saw the reason why you were so nervous. “With all due respect, ma’am,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving you another one of those adoring looks. “You raised the perfect woman.”

The air left your lungs, and you were pretty sure that Joshua felt your body shift beside him.

The smirk on your mother’s face erased completely, and then you knew she was getting a measure of the man that Joshua Hong was. “Oh?” she egged.

“I’m just lucky to have been chosen by her,” he said, and his words rang true to him somehow, even if this whole thing was fake, he was glad you had chosen him to do it.

You didn’t have the time to study his demeanour any further, because your mom smiled politely at him, and said. “You’re sweet,” she pointed, looking at you sternly. “Well, let’s hope it lasts.”

And then she walked away, waving at her guests and stopping by to hug those she adored, as though she hadn’t just given you a threat in front of everyone in the room.

You exhaled sharply, trying to swallow the rageful tears that had started brimming in your eyes. “God,” you gasped.

“Thar was…” Joshua started, at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

“My mom,” you said, looking up to the chandeliers above you to break the tears forming up. “That’s my mother.”

Joshua chewed on his bottom lip pensively, looking at you shake with so much anger you couldn’t even breathe steadily. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, like three already,” you sighed, lowering your head to mask that you couldn’t fight your tears, which you brushed with the back of your finger swiftly.

“Hey,” he called softly, and you tilted your head back to look at him. “Keep your head up. Don’t let her see you cry. We’ll get through this, just stick to the plan.”

“Right,” you nodded, sniffling quietly. “Stick to the plan; drinks.”

Joshua sighed a smile, tugging at your hand to make sure you walked side by side with him. “Come on.”

“Do you think she bought it?” you asked when you reached the bar sitting on the stool clumsily.

Joshua watched you fight against the stool that couldn’t stop moving. “Stand up,” he muttered, sending a quick glance around the room.

You blinked dumbly, but lowered your feet to the ground. “What?” you asked curiously.

“Stand close to me,” he said, calling the barman while reaching to grab your waist.

Your breath hitched as you felt his warm, large hand slip on your waist effortlessly, the tips of his fingers reaching the exposed part of your back. “Why?” you asked, breathing fitfully.

He lowered his gaze to meet yours. “If you stick close to me, it’ll be easier to make people think we’re in love,” he muttered, his tone flat and his expression unreadable.

“Right,” you scoffed.

“Seriously,” he said. “Would you really like to stay away from someone you’re in love with?”

“Or,” you started. “This is your lame excuse to grab my waist.”

Joshua hummed in thought. “What if it is?” he said, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.

“God, Joshua!” you chastised, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

“Stop that,” he hissed, keeping his expression smug. “We need to sell this, remember?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you gritted, looking around to check if someone had seen the exchange.

“Ridiculously brilliant, handsome, smart, hot,” he smirked, nodding at the barman who just approached. “One old fashioned for the lady, one whisky on the rocks for me,” he said, remembering your favorite drink.

“Huh,” you huffed, slightly amazed.

Joshua turned, winking at you. “Thank you sir,” he said, handing you the drink.

You ate the cherry first, swiftly picking it up from the pick with your tongue, knowing Joshua’s gaze was on you. You raised your eyes at him, drinking from your glass deeply.

“Cheers,” he shrugged, downing his drink in two gulps with a satisfied sigh.

“I think I need another,” you sighed, signaling the barman, which he replied to you with a nod of his head.

“Easy, we don’t want this to turn into Cabo again,” he muttered, reminiscing of the day you got so wasted you ended up dancing on top of the tables of a bar. Joshua had to carry you on his shoulder back to your hotel room.

“Cabo was fun, this is terrifying,” you replied. “And unlike you, I need to be drunk to do this.”

Joshua let out a chuckle. “Relax, we could just stick around for small talk for an hour or two, then we could act all lovey dovey on each other and pretend to scurry to our hotel room.”

Your tummy clenched. “God, I hate that idea,” you sighed, grabbing your second drink, eating the cherry first again.

“Or we could pretend to get in a couples’ argument, and then scurry back to our hotel room,” he offered his alternative with a smug look on his face, like he already knew what your answer would be.

“No,” you shook your head. “That would defeat the purpose of this stupid plan.”

Joshua scoffed. “This was your plan, sweetheart,” he muttered.

“Which means it’s only destined to crash and burn, like everything in my life,” you said through gritted teeth, right before tipping the glass in your mouth. You tried to ignore the affectionate name he called you, but you couldn't ignore the tingling in your face.

Joshua opened his mouth to say something, anything. A quippy retort, something sarcastic, anything. But the moment was stolen away from him swiftly.

“Is this… my favorite niece?” a man of thick voice said from behind.

You straightened up, almost choking on your drink before turning around and chant: “Uncle!”

Joshua stood back, watching you being pulled into a tight hug. The man you called uncle laughed merrily, swaying you back and forth as he hugged you tightly.

“Look at you. You’re gorgeous, my dear!” he said warmly. Sending a quick look at Joshua and then paused, noticing something. “And who’s this?” he asked you.

“Oh, thi-this is—,” you stammered awkwardly, looking at Joshua meaningfully. “My b-boyfriend, Joshua.”

Joshua offered a hand. “Joshua Hong, sir. Pleasure to meet you,” he smiled, bowing his head politely.

Your uncle stretched hands with Joshua, while squinting his eyes at him slightly. “Have I seen you somewhere?” he looked at you. “I feel like I’ve seen his face somewhere.”

“Probably on TV, uncle,” you smiled at Joshua.

Your uncle arched one of his unkept eyebrows.

“I’m a professional surfer, sir,” he complemented. “I competed last year.”

“He won bronze,” you added, a proud smile on your face which made Joshua’s tummy twist.

“Oh, yes, yes I think that might be it,” he said, still eyeing Joshua suspiciously.

But Joshua, he played it cool. He stood still, offering one of his small but charming smiles. Like he’d had this conversation a million times.

“Well,” your uncle finally said, scratching his chin. “I can’t say I’m the expert in surfing, but I know it takes a lot of balance,” His gaze drifted briefly to you and then back to Joshua. “You got good balance, son?”

Joshua didn't miss a beat. “I do what I can,” he said, flashing an unfazed smile. “Haven’t slipped in years, sir.”

Your uncle let out a gruff chuckle. “That’s good to hear. Wouldn’t want you slipping up, son.”

You felt Joshua tense up beside you, but he kept himself at ease, slipping a hand on your waist again. “Don’t worry, sir,” he said, tugging your body closer to his. “I do the best I can.”

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, content with Joshua’s responses. He nodded and excused himself, walking through the sea of your mother’s guests until you lost sight of him.

“Was I just threatened?” he sighed, starting to laugh nervously.

“Yeah, kinda,” you gave him a pitiful smile. “But if it makes it better, that just says that he liked you. Imagine how he treated the guys he didn’t like.”

“So I got his approval through light intimidation?” he huffed, amazed by how he was being received in your family as your fake boyfriend. “Huh.”

“Yeah, don’t get too comfortable.”

But Joshua felt his own smile fade, his eyes lingering on your face for a long second. He breathed out, trying to hold a rein to his body but failing miserably, his hand slipping from your waist to your lower back, feeling the skin that wasn’t covered by your pretty dress.

He wondered why he already felt too comfortable. But he couldn’t find any answers, not even in your eyes, which widened as you felt his hand on your skin, igniting every single inch inside you.

You coughed. “Josh, hands off,” you snapped.

He quickly dropped his hand, tucking it inside the pocket of his pants. He ordered another drink, trying to push down the pulsating feeling inside his chest.  

But you, on the other hand, knew that you were doomed. As soon as Joshua’s hand came in contact with your lower back, you felt it, your pulse quickened, your skin heated up. Not only that, but his fingers had brushed against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think of his hands, his long and round fingers, the veins that trail from his knuckles to the rest of his arms. His wrist was adorned with a Rolex watch, and the other with a silver bracelet, one that he had gifted himself on one of his birthdays.

You were doomed, because in the blink of an eye, you saw his hands on you, grabbing your body, touching your skin.

You ordered another drink, ignoring the look that Joshua gave you. “I can’t do this sober,” you sighed, avoiding his knowing gaze.

The night dragged on. And the snappy attitude on your part had begun to fade, to the point where you decided to stop drinking and focus on getting back to your room in one piece. But that wasn't all.

Joshua had kept a firm hand on your waist, only shifting it to grab your hand to keep you from returning to the bar and ask for another drink. It wasn’t that he was cutting your fun, you noticed that he was offering himself as an anchor for you to keep yourself afloat.

Ever the benevolent hero, his thoughts echoed Jeonghan’s words. It almost felt like he heard Jeonghan say them forever ago.

“Hey,” Joshua muttered, calling your attention with a soft pinch to your chin. “All sobered up now?”

You blinked dumbly at him, a slow smile stretching on your lips. “Yeah, why?” you drawled.

Joshua smirked knowingly. “Oh, yeah you’re all sobered up now.”

“Just give me ten minutes,” you giggled shamefully, clearly still tipsy but lucid enough to walk and talk.

Joshua sent a glance across the room, finding your mom’s eyes on him. He smiled at her politely, leaning down to press his lips on your hairline. “Your mom’s been looking at us the whole night,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly.

“Yeah, I don’t think she believed I’ve been dating my best friend this whole time without telling her,” you mumbled, running your hands down his linen shirt, feeling his hard chest without much thought. “It’s okay, this was probably doomed to fail since the start.”

Joshua stopped leaning, pulling back just to get a sight of your face. “Damn. I’m doing a terrible job as a boyfriend,” he giggled softly.

“Yeah, you’re fired,” you said, giggling with him. The sound did nothing to remedy the tight feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach.

He swallowed, the bubbly sound of your laughter created a deep blow to his chest, it screamed danger. This was supposed to be an easy experiment: come with you to the party, hold your hand and smile. That was it, easy, smooth, fake. But now, leaning towards your face, he couldn’t help but think that what he felt was real.

“What can I do to earn my job back?” he said, but the risqué in his demeanour waned. His tone came out soft, like dulled by something he couldn’t quite place.

The smile on your face faltered, but just for a second. You wanted to believe the spark that you saw in Joshua’s eyes, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. This was just his way to flirt, to have you all flustered—by the end of tonight it wouldn’t mean a thing.

“You can keep your job for tonight, Hong,” you replied, and he was glad to know that whatever had robbed him of his voice, it had robbed you of yours too.

But Joshua wasn’t backing down, he needed you to see the urgency brimming inside him, the please tell me you’re feeling this too, look in your eyes. But you were smirking at him, the playfulness in your eye told him you weren’t seeing what he wanted to tell you without words. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Your breath coiled around your throat, your eyes widening with shock. You read his face, over and over, beginning to understand that maybe your hopes weren’t misplaced. “Yes,” you whispered, eyeing his lips briefly. “Kiss me.”

Joshua didn’t think twice, he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own. Kissing you was just as easy as pretending to be your boyfriend, he found out. Your cherry lips were soft, warm, everything he imagined them to be. The way your lips fit into his own, moving seamlessly in a soft kiss—it was real.

There was a brief pause, but neither you nor Joshua dared to back away. Lips lingered touching, your breath warm in his mouth, he could taste the cherry, the sweet and sour whiskey. It was intoxicating.

He dove for another kiss at the same time you did, a small hum bubbling in your mouth. This kiss was harder, hotter, demanding for something that Joshua was eager to give you: passion, pleasure, his whole and undivided attention.

“I must admit,” you hummed softly, backing away slightly, looking at his eyes and then his lips, wet with your drool and his. “Breaking rules feels awesome.”

Joshua smiled, slipping a hand on your nape, his fingers tangling in your mane of hair. “And you haven’t seen anything yet.”

You were surprised when the next kiss was softer, his lips pressing on yours gently with small pecks. It quickly got you drunk, and not the kind that made you say stupid things, but the kind that made you do stupid things. Warmth started sizzling under your skin, as Joshua kissed your bottom lip softly.

But your aching feet betrayed you, making you stumble back clumsily. Joshua quickly put his hand on your lower back to keep you from stumbling further, he pulled back, reading your face expertly.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Joshua whispered, reaching to grab you hand, calling it a night.

Your heart faltered, but you followed him obediently. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, walking clumsily on your sore feet.

As you walked inside the elevator, you caught your mother’s eye. In the distance, you could see a tiny smirk on her face, giving you a knowing look, and before you could dwell on the moment, the elevator doors closed.

The villa had grown quiet, now that it was past midnight and mostly all of the rooms were booked by the people back in the ballroom. Joshua was still firmly holding your hand, like he was pretending to be your boyfriend until the end of the night, just as planned.

His slick and carefully tailored demeanor had unravelled a little, he had rolled up his sleeves, the top buttons of his shirt undone. But his hair had remained perfectly done, even though he had ruffled it throughout the night many times.

You felt like you were the opposite to what he showed. Your feet ached, your hair had lost its composure somewhere along the night, and your whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, but you carried the heaviest weight in your heart.

Because you didn’t want the night to end. Even though you had gritted your teeth through most of the night, his hand on yours was the best thing of it.

Joshua reached for the doorknob, and you swore he felt you take in a deep gulp of air. Because he turned, smirking at you. “Do you need me to tuck you in, or you got it?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that drunk anymore,” you said with a sigh.

But Joshua didn’t let go of your hand, not even as he led you inside the room. “If you say so.”

And for a moment, you two stood there, in front of the doors that separated the bedrooms. Joshua saw you, missing an opportunity to kiss you again with every second that went by. He breathed in, his heart beating fast—faster than ever before.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” he asked one more time, searching your eyes.

“I can manage,” you replied, swallowing hard to push down that feeling. “But I’ll leave the door open.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he whispered.

And then, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, right before letting go.

part three, did we make it?  

You lay in bed, covered with the sheets up to your nose, your head spinning, but not from the alcohol. You stared at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened at the party.

You replayed every moment in your head, thinking of the way Joshua played his role so naturally. The way he grabbed your hand effortlessly, when he told your mother you were the perfect woman, every time he looked adoringly at you.

Your chest tightened. It was over, the night was over, so your little plan had also come to an end. But you couldn’t help but wish that the night had been endless.

You had broken one rule, no kissing. You scoffed quietly at yourself. You had been so adamant to keep him at arm’s length that you didn’t realize that you had been playing yourself until it was too late.

You let out a slow breath, rolling onto your side, staring at the empty bed across the room.

You felt ridiculous. You had dragged Joshua into this stupid mess, none of this would’ve happened if you had kept your mouth shut and told your mother the truth to begin with. These feelings you tried so hard to push down, would’ve never had bloom if you had.

But just as you closed your eyes, commanding yourself to surrender to sleep, one memory lingered. His hands on you, his lips as he kissed you.

You weren’t just thinking about Joshua.

You needed him.

And that was far more dangerous than anything your little plan could’ve thrown at you.

You sighed, tossing the bed covers aside and pushed yourself out of the bed, silently making your way to Joshua’s door, which remained half closed. Heart pulsating on your temples, you pushed the door open, the hinges humming softly making your pulse worsen.

You held your breath, trying to see through the dark if he had fallen asleep, or if you had woken him up with the noise. But couldn’t get anything, so you pushed the door further, letting yourself in his room, and thus releasing all self-control you had in you.

Joshua turned on the bed, pushing himself on his elbows just as you climbed on top of him, holding onto his shoulders just as he eased his back on the mattress, welcoming you on top of him with his hands.

“Hey, you,” he whispered, grabbing you by the waist.

“Hey, you,” you replied with a shaky tone.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but placed two fingers on your chin, pinching it softly right before he pulled you for a quick kiss.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you blurted, slipping your lips between his.

Joshua could’ve sworn that he had never been more pleased to hear those words. He let out a sigh of amazement, squeezing your waist with his hand, feeling the silk of your nightgown. “Oh, yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth right before sitting up on the bed, with you straddling his lap.

“Yeah,” you sighed sweetly, tipping your head back as he kissed the underside of your jaw.

“That’s good to hear,” he purred against your skin, pressing his lips on your neck, loving the way you instantly tensed up on top of him.

“Why?” you asked, eyelids fluttering wildly as he continued kissing down your neck.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he smiled against your skin.

“Really?” you asked, your tone sweet and high and completely foreign to you.

Joshua nodded, closing his eyes when he got the scent of your skin as his kisses travelled farther down your neck. “Did you really think that I was just playing?”

You pushed his shoulder with one hand, creating some distance to get a read on his face. “What?”

Joshua looked at you, and with one look, you swore that he saw through you. His dark eyes swam all over your face, but then steadied as he let out a breath slowly. “You heard me,” he said, his tone low.

Something sharp shot inside you. “Joshua, don’t—,”

“Don’t what?” he said, his hands steady on your waist. “Don’t say it? Is your game alright for you as long as I don’t say anything?” he read your face again, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or don’t say it because you don’t want to admit that you feel something too?”

Your heart pounded so hard you felt it in your head.

You sighed defeatedly, leaning your forehead against his. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” you whispered.

“Right,” he gritted, his voice weakening now. “Because this can’t be real as long as you command it.”

“It’s not real,” you swallowed. “We’re drunk, and have been flirting all night.”

“Maybe it’s just not real to you,” he whispered, easing his grip on your waist.

Your heart faltered, and you pulled back again to be met with his sullen expression. “Joshua–,”

“What are you so scared of?” he asked, his eyes reading your face over and over again.

“I’m not scared, I–,”

As soon as his hand came to cup your cheek, you choked on your words. He smiled, knowing that it was a game lost. “This can’t be real,” you swallowed hard again. “You’re my best friend. I can’t lose you if all this fails.”

“You prepare yourself for failure before you even give it a chance to happen,” he muttered, the hurt on his face vanishing once he felt your body ease on top of him, as though you were melting under his touch.

“I can’t help it,” you sighed, using your hands to cup his face, pressing your forehead against his.

“You can’t help it, or you just don’t want to?” he murmured, his honeyed tone purring in your ear.

“I don’t know how to do it,” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get rid of the nasty feeling coiling around your heart.

“Then let me help,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched. You only needed to say yes, to believe him. It all seemed so good to be true. Your best friend, the man that made you feel special, the most special you had ever felt to someone in your whole life.

But you only needed to listen to your body. It was as though you wanted to lean into his warmth and get lost in his eyes forever. It felt so safe to be close to him, to have his touch in your body.

So you just dipped your head in, pressing your lips on his.

“Yes?” he breathed.

“Yes,” you replied.

Because for the first time in forever, you wanted to.

Joshua kissed you harder, now forgetting about keeping his touch light. His lips moved seamlessly on yours, while keeping a hand on your waist and returning the other to cup your cheek.

His heart was pounding inside him, feeling elated as he paused for air. “Can I take this off?” he sighed, his tone raspy.

“Yes, please,” you replied with a breathy tone.

His hands moved the skirt of the nightgown up, touching your body freely as he got rid of the only piece of clothing aside from your panties that covered your beautiful skin. As his eyes skirted over the curves of your bare body, his mind spun, making him feel dizzy.

You grabbed his face, commanding his eyes on yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You giggled, his words making your heart squeeze. “Thank you, Shua.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” he mumbled. “I’m lucky to be chosen by you.”

He didn’t give you time to say anything, because he was pushing your body on the mattress, climbing on top of you effortlessly.

You gasped. The smell of his skin, his hair, his warmth, everything invaded you. It was intoxicating. “Shua.”

Joshua gave you a hot kiss, one that told his aching need for you. It was passionate, and wet, his tongue swiftly rolled inside your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. “Can I eat you out?” he asked, his tone gruff and low.

“God, yes,” you replied with a soft sigh. “Please.”

“Mmn, you do have manners after all,” he quipped with a light smirk.

“Shut up,” you said, but couldn’t come up with a wittier retort.

And he noticed. With a laugh, he gave you another light kiss, using a hand to part your legs so he could slot himself in between them. “You’re a spoiled, prideful brat,” he sighed, kissing the apple of your cheek.

“You love me,” you retorted.

Joshua laughed, hearing the familiarity in your words. “I tolerate you.”

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you gasped exasperatedly.

Joshua complied silently, sinking down your body, peppering it with kisses as he reached your tits, his hands caressing your skin as he explored it carefully.

Your back tensed up. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself when he wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, humming as his tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it softly. “Shua,” you called.

“Yeah?” he replied, lifting his head from your tits, looking at you adoringly again.

Your heart clenched, but you ran a hand through his hair. “Play later,” you pleaded.

“Foreplay is the best part of it,” he teased, giggling as you glared at him. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, tugging at your panties with his fingers.

You helped him get rid of your panties, lifting your hips off the mattress as his knuckles caressed your legs, making your skin prickle.

Joshua wasted no time, burying his head between your legs to pepper your inner thighs with wet kisses. The feeling was like no other, pleasure spiked between your legs, his lips touching your skin felt electrifying.

“Shua,” you pressured, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair.  

He replied with a small smile, pressing a kiss on your pussy without removing his gaze from yours. You blinked repeatedly, letting out a small sound through your parted lips. “Do you like that?” he asked softly.

“Mm-huh,” you nodded with your head, catching the smirk on his face before he placed another kiss on your pussy lips.

Joshua slid the tip of his pointer finger between your pussy lips, shuddering when he felt the warmth and the arousal pooling in your entrance. “Stay still,” he whispered when your hips buckled slightly before you could command your body to a halt.

“Okay, okay,” you replied in kind, offering him a meek smile, your mouth dropping when he licked a stripe on your pussy lips, using his fingers to part them for his tongue, pushing it between your folds.

He enjoyed the loud sound of your gasp, your fingers slipping to grab his hair, following the motion of his head buried between your legs. “Joshua,” you moaned lewdly as he moved the middle and ring fingers that kept your pussy lips spread for his mouth, slipping them inside you. “Fuck!”

You realized that he wanted to pleasure you to reach your high quickly, his fingers thrusting inside you with a slow motion at first, exploring you, searching for what brought a louder reaction out of you.

The sound of your moans filled the room. Echoed by the smacking sounds of his mouth on your pussy as he continued making out with it, getting your clit to swell on his tongue and your walls to clamp around his fingers.

Instinctively, you curved your back, pushing your hips up, your cunt tightly pressed to his face. He groaned, sliding his free hand on your thigh, grabbing you tightly to keep you spread open for his mouth.  

“Josh,” you called, your fingers threading his soft hair. “Please…” you whispered, but did not know what you were begging for. The tip of his tongue drew perfect circles around your clit, teasing it lovingly, his long fingers thrusting slowly inside you.

You could not see his face, but you were certain that Joshua smiled when you called him by that name. His amused hum told you that much. But then everything changed, the motion of his tongue switched, darting from side to side, his fingers curling in a perfect spot in your walls, now fucking you relentlessly.

You pushed your head back onto the pillows. “Fuck-k,” you gritted, swallowing hard. You could feel your orgasm, taste it as sweet pleasure brimmed inside you. A hand kept you in place, while the other was busy thrusting two fingers inside you, curling them to tease a sensitive spot in your walls.

“I’m cumming,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if Joshua had heard you at all. You arched your back on the bed, while tiny, strangled sounds came out of you. Your high hit you so hard that your mind went blank, all that you could focus on was his tongue on your clit, his fingers massaging inside you.

You eased back onto the bed, sighing and moaning, babbling incoherences as Joshua kissed and nipped at your inner thighs, giggling softly when your body twitched under him.

“Hey, you,” he whispered, climbing back on top of you, kissing your face.

You sighed tiredly, opening your eyes to see his face. “Hey, you,” you replied, wiping the wetness off his chin before kissing his lips. “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he whispered, responding to your every kiss with light lips. “Do you want more?”

You shook your head. “I need you,” you replied.

Joshua paused to read your face. “Sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, encircling his neck with your arms. Not liking the unsure look on his face, you added: “I’m on birth control, Shua.”

He had gone still, but only to consider what this meant for him. It had been so long since he’d felt something like this for someone, the adrenaline, the high of being so close to someone. As close as humanly possible.

“Okay,” he replied, kissing your lips once, then the tip of your nose as your hands search for the waistband his boxers.

Joshua helped your trembling hands get rid of his underwear, pushing it down to reveal his cock. He was fully hard, the rosy-brown tip of his cock leaking with precum. You rolled a hand on his thick and long shaft, feeling the veins tracing down from his cockhead to the base. “You’re big,” you sighed, giggling nervously.

He had nothing to reply, as soon as your hand came in contact with his body, he’d lost all sanity, all self-control flew out the window. He swallowed hard, feeling your hand squeeze around his shaft, rolling it on his cockhead and smearing precum all over his thick shaft.

He pressed his forehead to yours, placing his hands above your head, framing it as he lowered his hips on top of yours. “Play later, baby,” he said, his tone gruff and waning at the last word he uttered.

Your breath hitched. “Pet names,” you whispered.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he smirked, leaning to kiss you swiftly.

You did, you loved everything. Every single rule you set, and broke showed you just how much you loved it: being called names, kissing, touching, everything.

Joshua noticed that you had choked on your words too, and he smiled at you as he pressed his naked body on yours. You guided his cock between your folds, gasping slightly when you slipped his cockhead inside you and he just started pushing in, easing in himself slowly.

Your mouth parted, eyes watering instantly at the intrusion. But it felt so good, the stretch, the thickness of him, every single naked inch inside you. Your hands flew to grab at his shoulders, back tensing on the mattress, as you gasped again.

“Relax,” he whispered, kissing your cheek adoringly.

“Josh,” you called breathily, trying to tell him to continue, to never stop.

You heard him breathe fitfully once he sheathed himself completely. “You’re perfect,” he praised, burying his face on the crook of your neck, getting drunk on the smell of your hair.

He started moving his hips, thrusting his cock in and out with a steady pace. The sound of his ragged breaths was distracting, almost alluring to you. But Joshua rolled his hips on yours, his cock massaging your walls the same way his fingers had, eliciting a raw moan from you.

“You like that?” he whispered.

You could only reply with a nod.

“Okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek, then your collarone, continuing to roll his hips in that same motion, the tip of his cock kissing a spot inside you that made you see stars, and your fingers curl.

“Fuck, Josh, please… don’t stop,” you pleaded with a breathy tone. And he was more than eager to please, only to hear you call out his name like that again, to feel your pussy clench around him.

The air was quickly filled with the sound of your moans, the tiny gasps that came out of you as Joshua fucked you the way that you wanted. His cock massaged your walls so deliriously good that you could feel yourself inching closer to your release.

“Fuck,” Joshua breathed, his lips caressing your earlobe. “Where do you want me, baby?”

Your thighs tensed up at his sides instantly. “Inside,” you gasped, tightening your grip on his shoulders. “Please cum inside me, Josh.”

Joshua gritted his teeth, letting out a strangled sound through them. The thought of spilling himself inside you might’ve sent him to a frenzy. All he could think of was filling you up, but he kept himself sane through the movement of his hips, getting you to your high before he reached his.

“Fuck, please, please,” he drawled lazily, muffling a moan in the crook of your neck.

You kissed his shoulder, moving your hands on his back as you let yourself go. You closed your eyes, letting out soft moans as a wave of sweet pleasure washed over you.

Then Joshua moved his hips faster, his fingers curling on the pillowcases, anchoring himself to them as he started plunging his cock in and out of you. He was quickly getting lost in the warmth of your pussy, the wetness, your smell, and the sweet sounds you made.

“You feel amazing,” he whispered, closing his eyes tightly, trying not to lose himself on you completely just yet. So he rolled on the bed, expertly shifting positions so you now sat on top of him, keeping you steady with his hand on your waist.

You understood immediately, using a hand to grab his cock, wet and glistening with your arousal and slipped it inside with a pleased moan. You tilted your head back, blissfully riding him with a steady pace of your hips on him.

Joshua saw your body bouncing softly on him—your head tilted back, your hands placed on your thighs, rolling your hips in a way that he got to see his cock slipping back inside your pussy. He swallowed a moan, closing his eyes briefly to not lose control too quickly.

But it was impossible. The room was flooded with the sounds of sex, your soft and whiny moans, the squelching sound of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy, his own strangled moans… it was getting harder and harder for him to hold onto sanity.

You placed a hand on the pillow, right beside his head, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on his chin, then on his lips. The sway of your hips paused briefly, making him groan, desperate for release.

You smiled at him. “I think I’d never seen you this quiet,” you pointed cheekily.

Joshua chuckled, lifting a hand from your waist and landing it on the side of your thigh with a firm spank.

You squeaked, hips buckling on top of him. “Fuck,” you choked out, closing your eyes tightly.

He moved his hands on your hips, guiding them in a way that he felt himself slipping in and out of your pussy again. “That’s it,” he crooned, looking at you bounce on his cock in the motion that he’d taught you. “Good girl.”

“Fuck,” you cried lewdly. “Josh!”

Joshua grinned, his hands following the movement of your hips on him as he tipped his head back on the pillow, spilling himself inside you with a series of raunchy moans. He looked at your face as you rode him until he was spent, and delirious with what you and he had just done.

You breathed raggedly, returning the smile as though you could hear his thoughts. You collapsed on the bed beside him, keeping an eye on the features of his face, which were masked by a stupor that had started to set in.

“So much for ground rules,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” Joshua drawled. Blinking lazily at you right before he reached for your hand with his, taking it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

You smiled softly at him, watching sleep claim him with every blinking of his eyes until he started to breathe deeply, finally asleep beside you. As the time went on, you debated whether returning to your bed or stay in his. What finally made the decision for you, was Joshua’s arms wrapping you into a hug.

So you stayed, sleeping blissfully in his embrace.

epilogue

It had been a while since someone truly saw him for who he was. A friend, a warm person you can talk to, trustworthy. It felt like his true self was buried underneath the burden of shame, the ickiness of being looked at and think that he had been somebody’s fool.

Joshua brought his fist and knocked on your apartment door, once, twice. Waited.

His stomach clenched at the sound of the front door of your apartment click, and then open. Slowly, you stepped out, curiously looking up at him. “Hey, you,” you said sweetly, leaning against the doorframe.

Joshua smiled at you, feeling his body relax at once. “Hey, you,” he said, nervously approaching towards you. “Can we talk?”

You read his face before nodding. “Sure,” you replied, letting him in.

It had been a while since you had let someone see you for who you were. But it was something you had to have seen it coming. Joshua was after all, the person who knew you best. And you were more than ready to see where your story with him would go. 

› author's note: this felt like city lights in so many levels omg. i loved writing this. if there are mistakes, it's because i wrote about 7k words of this fic in one day lol

toodles!

READ MORE | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

© TO HANNIEWEEN — I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[diceroll65]

party animal - b.e

billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: you are recovering from being cheated on by your now ex-girlfriend, and decide to attend billie's party where you know she will be. (billie is NOT the ex-girlfriend in question btw)

warnings: cheating, smut, praising, slight orgasm denial

part one, part two, part three

you have been laying around all day after finding out your girlfriend of a year and a half fucked another girl in the bed you share. you found out by finding a g string under your side of the bed, where you strictly only wore cheeky underwear. you confront your girlfriend as soon as she gets home from work, and tell her to pack her shit. the situation escalates to where she admits she cheated, but expresses the reason she did was because you guys haven't fucked in a while. boxes of her possessions sit in the living room later that night, as you clean up the kitchen to your now solo apartment. she leaves as soon as she finishes packing.

you wake up the next morning with the unsettling feeling of your close friend inviting you to her party, you and your now ex-girlfriend. up until this point, you had no desire to go. though, this feeling soon washes over, leading to a burning desire of you wanting to look absolutely sexy and rub it in your former girlfriend's face.

when it comes time to start getting ready for the party, you grab your mini black, skin- tight, halter dress that hug your curves exquisitely. you pair this with your vinaceous red pumps, along with your matching white gold pendant and bracelet set. your freshly pampered hands, amore at the grand canal colored oval-shaped acrylics dance across your chest as you admire yourself in the mirror. for makeup, you decide to be daring, doing a smoky eye look with a dark red lip. you spray tom ford's vanilla sex lightly over your pulse points, creating a more confident air about you.

you pull up to billie's place, with your attention focused on finding billie and letting her know the situation. you spot her immediately standing behind a girl, guiding her hips as she twerks against her. "classic billie" you say internally. the girl moves and billie's eyes go directly to you. "holy fuck, y/n-" she says admirably. you interrupt her "i need to talk to you" you say with a sense of urgency. she nods quickly, following you as you lead her away from the crowd. "you know tay is here right? i thought you guys were coming together?" billie utters, confused. "that’s actually why i wanted to talk to you" you start "she cheated on me" you say with a disappointed face. "no fucking way" she says with a dumbfounded expression. "want me to kick her ass out?" billie asks genuinely. "oh no, i actually want the opposite" you start, leaning against the wall. "i want her to be here, more than anyone, to realize how badly she fucked up" you declare, with a smile. billie takes in what you say, her eyebrow slightly rising "i think i have an idea" she states with a sinful smirk. you nod "whatever you have in mind, i'm down."

billie grins, reaching down to grab your hand. she escorts you towards the middle of the room. Good Ones by Charli XCX begins to play, as if it were planned. billie places both hands on your hips, twirling you around. her right hand gently grasps your lower abdomen, pulling your back against her front. you bite your lip at her unanticipated gesture, unaware of what else she has in mind. you situate your head against her shoulder, as your attention diverts to her face. billie smiles into your hair, breathing directly against your ear. your chest warms up due to the proximity.

you realize tay is in the back corner, and avoid looking in her direction. at this point, billie’s hands roam down to your hips, moving them to the beat of the music. billie leans into your ear subtly and says “she looks pissssed” in a low voice, slightly chuckling. you giggle at the thought. “good” you say, amused. you then turn to face billie, wrapping your arms around her neck. your left arm leaves her neck, going into the air, in spirit of the song tempo picking up.

“i always let the good ones go ooh-ooh-ooh ooh” pours out of the speakers as billie pulls you in as close as possible by your lower back. her eyes are narrowing, and she admires how lost you are in the music. you open your eyes to meet her gaze, finding yourself forgetting how to breathe. your mouth slightly ajar, the now heavy tension weighing on your chest. you both simultaneously lean in, your lips merging in sync. your arms meet each other again behind her neck, pulling her closer towards your face.

billie's hands desperately drag across your back, her grip tightens as you begin to fall into her due to the passion. it takes almost no time for you and billie to enter the closest room, which was the hallway closet, as your mind races with possibility. billie locks the door, quickly returning to your embrace. her expression completely unrecognizable, her eyes taking laps as she fervently admires your figure.

billie gently but firmly pushes you against the closest available surface, which in this case is against a shelf. your moans fill her ears, as she kisses and hovers over the pulse point in your neck, feeling your heart pulsate against her lips. she pulls back and looks at your now smeared lipstick, taking her thumb, rolling it over your lip and sticking it in your mouth. you suck on her finger, holding eye contact. as she pulls her thumb out, you kiss it and crash your lips into hers once more. she desperately reaches for the straps of your dress, and whispers into your mouth, in a begging tone "please, can i take this off you?" your stomach begins to twist, as you respond with "please do." she drags your straps off your shoulders, sliding the dress down to reveal your bare breasts and a pair of imperial purple lacy panties.

"my god, how could anyone cheat on you?" she says, her voice laced with lust. she places her thigh in between your legs, as you begin to grind involuntarily. she smirks at how instinctual that gesture was for you. you begin to slowly rub against her denim thigh, creating friction. meanwhile, your hair is aggressively rubbing against the shelf, creating knots you will have to attend to later. "fuck, you are so mesmerizing" billie says, watching you attempt to bring yourself to completion. "this is how you deserve to feel" she says, delicately fondling your breasts. you struggle getting yourself there, and you let out a sigh of agitation. "it's okay, let me help you" she suggests replacing her thigh with her hand. she adheres to your speed, picking up the pace a little more. billie is now rubbing your clit so fast that you are unable to stand. your balance is now being supported by the shelf behind you, as your knees begin to buckle. "holy fuck- oh my god-" you stammer, on the brink of finishing. "are you almost there? say my name when you get there, baby. she needs to be reminded that she can't make you feel this good anymore" billie voices, her eyes not able to steer away from you clenching around her touch. "bi-billie fuck" as you release with your knees giving out, causing you to slightly lean forward into billie's arms.

billie catches you immediately, one hand holding your abdomen, the other supporting your back. billie, now with a devious grin plastered across her face says "can we go one more time?" billie asks, clearly not wanting this moment to end. you nod tiredly, as she begins to kneel in front of you. she looks up to you through her eyebrows and asks "can i take these off?" as she motions towards your underwear. you nod desperately, as she without hesitation glides them off your figure. she is admiring your vagina, stalling to take in its beauty. "such a beautiful pussy" she whispers, watching you shift your weight because of how her compliment made you feel. "i just wanna-" billie says holding onto both thighs and hovering her head over your left thigh, breathing onto it. "i wanna have you gasping for air when i'm done with you" she says as she kisses your bikini line. she then licks along your clit, sending you a jolt of pleasure. billie proceeds to lick, as she then switches to sucking. you slide up and down the shelf once more, as you cannot support your weight due to the gratification. by now, moans are tumbling out of your mouth. "louder" she whispers into your sex, smiling at the groan you let out, feeling her voice through your body. you obey, as your moans increase in volume. she is smiling from ear to ear (ha) as she notices how well you listen. "so so good for listening, baby" she praises, as you are unable to pay attention. "billie oh my god-" you exclaim, as you are seconds away from releasing. "can you hold on a little longer for me, my love? i promise it will make you feel so so good" she says, as she returns back to your sex. you bite your lip, unsure if you are able to contain yourself from letting go. "i bet she's never made you feel this good, huh?" she says in an angry tone. "such a piece of shit" she says as she picks up her speed. tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as you say "no one has ever made me feel so good, fuck." billie eyes light up hearing this, as she picks up the speed to an even faster rate. at this point, you are quietly screaming as the pressure of the climax becomes unbearable. "go ahead, baby. cum for me. right here, that's it" she says, as you completely release from the built up tension. billie helps you ride out your climax, as your legs are now shaking with how hard she just fucked you. and you are now letting your entire weight be supported by the shelf.

you look at her with your eyes barely open and cover your face, feeling vulnerable. billie replaces your hands with hers, as she traces shapes along your cheeks. "you deserve to feel this good every time, y/n" billie states "let me know if you ever want to do it properly" she says, with a genuine smile. you smile back, nodding and mouth "thank you" as you try catching your breath. all of a sudden your eyes completely widen as very harsh knocking is coming from the other side of the door.

part two -> so you don't have to scroll all the way back up! :D

[snowyslytherinowl]

A Love Paid in Galleons - Part 1

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: Knowing that no one would ever want him, Severus hires a prostitute to help him lose his virginity. But what he doesn't anticipate is that he'll give his heart to her as well.

Part 2 here

I hate to say this but if we’re speaking canonically, I believe that Snape either died a virgin or lost his virginity to a prostitute. I wanted to write something on the latter topic with some cuteness.  This also has been interesting for me to write since I haven’t written smut in a long time and never really wrote smut like this. I hope y’all still enjoy this though!

18+ DUE TO SEXUAL CONTENT; MINORS DNI!

Severus wouldn’t dare to do this at Hogwarts. For one thing, inviting someone like this within the castle walls would surely be strictly forbidden. But most importantly, he wouldn’t be able to bear the embarrassment if knowledge of his actions circulated the school. His head pounded at the thought of the incessant teasing by the students, or even worse, by Minerva and Dumbledore. 

Earlier that day, he covered his head with a black hood and ventured into Knockturn Alley. The only place of its kind could be found at the very end of the alley, tucked away in a corner lit only by a flickering lantern. Severus handed his galleons to the madam, paying extra to reserve a pretty one for the entire night. His blood ran cold as he gave her his address and a fake name, not processing that he was actually going through with this. But he felt that it was only right to reserve the prostitute for the entire night; at least after she had sex with a disgusting man like him, she could leave and be free from company for the rest of the night. 

Even now, hidden away in the privacy of his home at Spinner's End, he doesn’t know what to do now that he has dared. He showers and roughly scrubs his hair, ridding it of all its grease. He tidies up the sitting room, repairs all the cracks in the walls, cleans his dirty dishes, puts every dish in the cupboard, and removes the nightmare-inducing jars from his study. He decides that they would do it inside his study, rather than his bedroom. He’s embarrassed by the holes in the sheets and the mismatching pillowcase and comforter. Even then, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the upcoming encounter every night and subsequently wrap his arms around his body, attempting to ease the feelings of loneliness.

The clock rings, signifying a new hour. It’s ten o’clock; she should be here any second now. And then there’s a knock on his front door. Severus jumps in his seat and slowly makes his way to the door, his hands shaking and his heart pounding. 

The woman on the other side of the door takes his breath away. He doesn’t think he’s seen a woman as beautiful as you. Smooth skin, luscious hair, full lips painted a deep red. Even your eyes are bright and welcoming as you smile at Severus. His heart pounds even faster as his eyes rake over the short green dress tightly hugging your body. “Hi,” you greet in a sweet voice.

“Hello,” Severus says quietly. He stares at you as though he’s stupified, completely mesmerized by your beauty. How could he ever rip his eyes away from a woman like this?

You blush and bite your lower lip. “May I come in?” you ask shyly.

“Oh. Yes,” Severus mutters, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He steps aside and allows you to enter. You walk to the middle of the sitting room and look around. He fidgets with his fingers at the thought that you might be judging the simplicity of his house. 

But it doesn’t seem like those kinds of thoughts are on your mind. You spin around and look at him with the most alluring gaze a woman has ever looked at him with. His breath catches in his throat and he stands frozen once more. You inch closer to him, that sweet smile still playing on your lips, until you stand directly in front of him. “What would you like me to do, sir?” you ask in a low voice. 

“I… er… I…” Severus’s heart beats so fast that he can’t breathe, let alone speak. His face becomes even more red. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t form a single coherent sentence. He gulps as you continue to look up at him, awaiting his response. “Er… anything you wish to do. And you do not need to call me sir.”

You laugh the sweetest laugh he’s ever heard. A laugh more powerful than a siren’s call, a laugh that could make any man weak in the knees. You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “How about we get out of the sitting room so I can show you what I have in mind?” 

You take his hand in yours and gently squeeze it. Severus fights the urge to run his thumb over your smaller hand, a perfect match nestled within his grasp. He leads you up the stairs on shaky legs and pushes open the door on the right. 

Like the sitting room, the study is unassuming. Shelves full of books filed in alphabetical order line the wall on the right. On the left, there are cabinets holding jars of potion ingredients. There are no framed photos or personal effects. He flips the light switch on, the dingy overhead light beginning to glow. But since the light flickers unreliably, he chooses to light the candles on his desk instead. Perhaps it’ll even give this situation a romantic feel, even if there is no romance involved. 

You walk to the bookshelves and run a finger over several of the titles. Your eyes light with genuine curiosity as you inspect his room. No one has ever been interested in anything he owns. “What do you work as?” 

“Oh…. er… I… I do…” Severus stammers again, still hesitant to tell you for fear of exposure. He awkwardly stands at the doorframe, hoping you’ll catch on.

You seem to sense his discomfort and smile reassuringly at him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

You stand directly in front of him once again and take his hand. You place your intertwined hands on his chest and stare up at him. “Do you want me to show you what I have planned?” you ask in a low voice. The combination of you smiling at him, looking up at him like you actually want him, and speaking in a sultry voice is too much for him. His eyes dip down to your lips but quickly looks away before he can give in to the urge to kiss you. 

“Er… that would… er…” he mutters. You brush a strand of his hair behind his ear with your free hand, sending his heart into a tizzy. 

“Are you nervous?” you ask. Severus nods very slightly in response, so you follow with, “Will this be your first time?”

Ashamed, Severus’s eyes sink to the ground and he remains silent. The reason why he solicited a prostitute is because he wants to lose his virginity. Is it so wrong for him to yearn for the touch of a woman, want to feel wanted, even if that want is all a superficial act? He knows no woman would ever want to sleep with him. No woman has ever looked at him, approached him, or complimented him. If anything, they would be repulsed by him. With his greasy hair and sallow skin, he can’t blame them. And what would you say if he told you that he, a man in his thirties, was a virgin? He knows you’ll think that he’s a pathetic, lonely slug because that is exactly what he is. 

With your pointer finger, you tilt his head so he’s looking into your eyes. You smile at him and reassure, “Hey, there’s nothing to be ashamed of if it is. I’ve never been anyone’s first, but I promise to make this special for you.”

He frowns and his hands start to shake. Blinking rapidly, he tries his best to hold back the tears that are threatening to form in his eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. The only possible answer is that you’re paid to be here. Otherwise, you would have screamed and apparated away the second he opened his front door. 

“Why do you think that?” With a gentle touch, you caress his cheek to relax him. Severus sighs again, still not able to understand or accept your kind touch. “I think you’re very handsome,” you say in a tone that sounds genuine. 

Butterflies flutter in his stomach. No woman has told him that before. Or maybe you’re just saying that to be kind? “You really think so?”

“Of course. If anything, I’m surprised that no woman has snatched you up yet,” you say with another one of your beautiful laughs. 

He can’t stop his lips from pulling upward into a smile. Now all he can think about is kissing your soft, plush lips. 

“May I… may I kiss you?” he mutters, his cheeks reddening.  

“Yes,” you say and get on your tippy-toes. Severus bends his head down and tenderly presses his lips against yours. 

The moment his lips touch yours, shockwaves run throughout his entire body and his head spins. All thoughts drift into oblivion. All he can think about are your kind words, your gentle touch, your ethereal beauty, your enchanting smell, you. He wants to stay here in this exact position, kissing you forever. 

He lets go of your hand and then wraps it around your back, pressing his chest against yours. When you moan into his lips, Severus cups your face with his other hand. He kisses you deeper and rougher, as though he’s a dying man and your kisses are the only things that can save him. 

Severus is hurt when you pull away until he notices that your cheeks are now a deep crimson. He begins to panic at the thought that he hurt you by not restraining himself well enough. But then you take in a deep breath and laugh. “Sorry, I had to take a breather.”

He stares at his feet like a schoolboy caught doing something he shouldn’t have, yet this embarrassment feels amazing. “No, I apologize that I got carried away,” he mutters. 

You smirk at him. “No, no. Silas, I think you deserve a reward for how excellent of a kisser you are,” you say seductively. 

A shiver ran through his body at your words. As you inch closer to the desk chair, Severus stops you. He feels wrong continuing this night with you without telling you his real name. He’s willing to throw caution to the wind with you; he has a feeling you’d keep his identity a secret. “Actually, my real name is Severus.”

“Ok then, Severus. How about you sit down?” You grab his hand and then gently push him. He flops onto the desk chair and stares up at you with wide eyes. 

You lean down and press wet kisses on his cheek. You unbutton the top part of his coat and continue your trail of kisses down his neck. Severus freezes as he feels blood rush to the lower parts of his body. He doesn’t want you to notice the growing bulge in his pants, and neither does he know where to put his hands. He sits stiffly on the desk chair, his fingers tightly gripping the armrest. 

Instead of continuing to unbutton his coat, your hands trail down to his trousers. His breath catches in his throat as you drop to your knees and unbuckle his belt. With swift fingers, you undo his belt, and then his button trousers, and then pull the trousers down to his knees. 

Severus jumps in his seat when you run a hand over his clothed cock. If he had any intentions to hide his bulge earlier, well, his secret is out now. He takes a deep breath and stares down at you with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. With the mischievous expression you’re looking up at him with and the way you’re slowly palming his clothed cock, Severus thinks he might pass out. 

Severus holds back a moan when you apply more pressure with your palm, and you smirk as you notice how tense he is. You slowly shimmy down his boxers and reveal his large, hard cock. Severus stares at the ceiling, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. How pathetic he must be to get this hard at only a few touches. 

“Severus, look at me.” Your voice is gentle, but the firmness of your command is there. Severus forces his eyes to move from the ceiling to you. 

Below him is an absolute sight to behold. His hard, thick cock is leaking precum from the tip. Embarrassment burns through him, but he can’t stop staring at how you’re looking at him. Your hands rest on the chair cushion, just touching his thighs. And Merlin, you’re staring at his cock like you want to devour it. 

“Do you want me to touch you, handsome?” you purr. Your hands slither onto his thighs and massage his skin there. He nods a little too eagerly and you chuckle. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” You run your hands up his body and rest on the bottom of his torso. “Here?” He only whimpers in response and moves his legs, trying to shift your hands where he needs them most. You smirk and click your tongue in disapproval. 

“Is here better?” You shift your hands to his hips, your fingers ghosting around his cock. He whines pathetically and looks down at you, silently begging you to just touch him already. 

“Use your words, Severus,” you gently command. As an extra tease, you skim one finger down the length of his cock. 

“My cock, please,” he begs you. If anything, he would spend the rest of his life begging him to touch you. Even if you got up and left, this would still be the best moment of his life. 

You finally wrap your hands around his cock and swipe a thumb over his slit, smearing precum up and down his cock. Severus lets out a needy mewl as you pump your fist up and down his manhood, his apprehension at making noises melting away. Every so often, he’d touch himself in the shower and eventually bring himself to orgasm, his feelings of shame washing away any feelings of pleasure. But masturbating never prepared him for this. Your expert touch feels better than any form of self-induced pleasure. 

Severus gasps loudly when he feels you peppering kisses down the length of his cock. You go even further downward and massage his balls with your tongue. When he was a teenager, his dormmates told stories of their sexual encounters right in front of him, knowing he would never have a need for their knowledge. He rarely listened to them either; the feelings of loneliness that arose would be too painful. During the few times he listened, he remembers how his dormmates raved about how amazing blowjobs felt. Merlin almighty were they right, and you had only just begun. 

Locking eyes with him, you lick his tip and then wrap your lips fully around his shaft. Severus enters a state of euphoria as you simultaneously wrap your fist around the base of his cock and rotate your hand around him. After several moments, you pull your hands back so you can take more of him into your mouth. Severus groans and unintentionally juts his hips up at the intense sensation, but then his mind floods with shame as he hears you gag. “Sorry. I am so, so sorry,” he apologizes profusely. He stiffens in his seat and watches your every move, afraid that he might have hurt you. 

You don’t say anything, instead subtly nodding your head and lightly holding down his hips. You slowly take more and more of him in your mouth, alternating between soft and firm pressure. He’s finally reassured when you moan around his cock. He allows himself to relax and his eyes flutter closed, indulging in the immense pleasure you’re providing him. The warmth and wetness of your mouth are beyond anything his imagination could’ve conjured. 

Severus grips the armrests so tightly now that his knuckles are white. He keeps his hands there partially because he’s too afraid to grasp your hair and potentially hurt you again, but mainly because he’d holding on for dear life. His hips shake violently and he can’t stop groaning. He can feel his cock pulsating, ready for sweet release, but he has to use every fiber in his body to not just cum already. Severus wants his first blowjob to last longer. But you sense that he’s close to his orgasm, and you hollow your cheeks more and suck more firmly. With a loud groan and shaking legs, he comes undone in your mouth. His heart races and he pants, his body and mind in a state of absolute bliss after the best orgasm of his life. 

His eyes flutter open and he suddenly remembers that he never asked you if he could cum in your mouth. Though before he can apologize, he feels you humming around his soft cock and swallowing his seed. He stares at you with wide eyes, stunned that you’d do such a thing and stunned at how intensely his cock is throbbing with pure arousal. 

You slide his manhood out of your mouth and stand back up. The candlelight illuminates your messy hair and sweat beading on your forehead. Merlin, you look gorgeous like this. 

“You were amazing,” Severus whispers. You smile shyly at him and lean down to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you.” You run your hand down his clothed chest without breaking eye contact. “Do you think you’ll be up for another round soon?”

Severus blushes at your forwardness. “I am not sure. My refractory period is slightly long,” he admits. 

“Hmm, that’s fine. In the meantime, maybe you can undress me?” you lure. You pull down the straps of your dress, giving him a peek at your bra. You’re still leaning above him, so he can feel your breath on his skin and see the anticipation in your eyes. 

Severus is a flustered mess as he stares at your body. With a shaky hand, he reaches out and rests his hands on the top of your dress. He sits awkwardly on the desk chair, not knowing what to do or say. 

You sense his confusion. “Stand up.” Severus completely pulls down his trousers and steps out of them before standing in front of you. You point behind yourself and tell him, “Unzip me.” 

Severus focuses his eyes on the window as he reaches behind you and unzips your dress, which pools around your legs. Although you’re a prostitute and you just gave him a blowjob, he feels wrong looking at your naked body without your explicit consent. His hands then hover over where your dress once was, yet again not knowing where to put them. 

“You can look, you know,” you tease. Severus peels his eyes away from the window and takes in the magnificent sight of your partially naked body. His eyes linger over your lace panties and bra, which are the same shade of green as your dress. The sheer fabric clings to your body, revealing your curves perfectly. As the candlelight glistens off your flawless skin, he thinks that maybe his refractory period won’t last as long as he thought it would. 

“Er, what do you want me to do next?” he murmurs. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and look up at him with immense desire. You’re either one hell of an actress or you actually want him.

“You can start by taking off my bra.” Severus reaches behind your back and fiddles with your bra clasp. He fails at this task, partially because he’s overtaken with anticipation and partially because he’s so inexperienced. After several moments, you giggle and offer, “Let me help you.” You quickly unclasp your bra and allow Severus to pull it off of your arms. 

Severus swallows hard and has difficulty breathing as he stares at your breasts. Not even Muggle magazines prepared him for this. He gently cups one of your soft breasts and he marvels at how it fits perfectly in his hand. He lightly squeezes it and runs his thumb over your nipple, which hardens and peaks at his touch. He squeezes a little harder when you moan and bite on your lower lip, eager to draw more divine sounds out of you. 

“You are a goddess,” he murmurs. Maybe he’s crossing a line with you, but his words aren’t a lie. He’s never seen and never will see a woman as stunning as you.

“You’re very kind, Severus,” you whisper. Time freezes for a moment. It’s just the two of you in Spinner’s End staring deeply into each other’s eyes. No one matters in this world except for you. He doesn’t want to admit that his heart is starting to ache for you. 

You break the moment by standing on your tippy-toes and kissing him on his lips. Severus takes his time kissing you and exploring your mouth, wishing to drag this moment out for as long as he can. 

You take one of his hands and trail it to between your legs. He takes the hint and snakes his hands into your panties. He’s shocked when he feels your wetness coating his fingers. Does this mean that you truly want him, that all of this is not just an act? He shakes away the thought before it begins to play with his heartstrings even more. 

You gaze up at him expectantly, so he begins to experimentally circle his thumb around your clit. You moan with pleasure and bury your face into his shoulder. He melts at your touch and wraps his other around your back to pull you even closer. 

As you moan again, his face reddens as he remembers that he doesn’t know how to touch a woman. He wracks his brain for memories of the knowledge his dormmates had and any obscure piece of information he picked up from conversations with other men. All he wants is to pleasure you, so he runs his middle finger up and down your slit and then slowly pushes his finger inside. You gasp and start to grind your hips against his hand, beckoning him to fill you with more of his fingers. He pushes another finger inside you, pumping them both in and out of you. You two groan in unison, becoming more and more aroused each second. 

You and Severus are pressed so closely together that you can feel his now hard cock nudging against your front. Your eyes flutter open and you smirk at him. “I thought you would take longer,” you tease. 

You step away from him, forcing Severus to pull his fingers away from you. His heart drops, disappointed that he couldn’t pleasure you more. But those thoughts are quickly wiped away when you slip your panties off and rest your hands on his chest. 

You take your time unbuttoning his coat and then peeling off his robes and coat. He holds his breath as you caress his now bare chest. You somehow find his face handsome; it would take a miracle for you to like his thin physique. Yet if you are turned off, you don’t show it. Instead, you glance back up at him and bite your lower lip. “It’s up to you, Severus. Do you want to take me standing up, on the desk, or on the chair?” 

His eyes drift down to your supple breasts and your exposed cunt. Merlin, you are divine. Honestly, you would look stunning whether you’re naked or wearing a potato sack. He gulps, the burden of the decision weighing heavily on him. “Umm… I find…” he stammers, his voice hoarse. “I…. I think…”

“You’re taking too long. We’re standing.” You laugh and turn around, your back flush against his chest. You reach behind you and reassuringly rub his thighs. You turn your head back and look at him for a moment to quietly say, “Take your time, okay?” Seduction melts away and all he can feel is your tenderness.

Severus nods and takes a deep breath. His heart is beating a mile a minute and his palms are sweaty. This is it, this is the moment every interaction with you has been building up to. His mind goes blank; he can’t even fathom how he got here or how he’s about to lose his virginity to the most beautiful woman in the wizarding world. Pure and sheer exhilaration kicks in, and he grasps your hip with one hand. With the other, he aligns himself with your entrance and pushes the head of his cock in. 

Severus lets out mindless groans as he pushes his length into you, shocked by the feelings of warmth engulfing him. He thought the feeling of your hand around his cock felt good. He thought a blowjob felt amazing. But this feels heavenly. The warmth and wetness of your cunt, and the way your walls clench against him, is beyond compare. If he knew how this would feel earlier, he would’ve asked you to skip the blowjob. 

Once he bottoms out, he stills his hips and allows you to adjust to his length. He can feel your walls spasming around him as if you’re affected by this as much as he is. After several moments, you pat his thighs. “You can start moving.”

Severus rocks his hips at a gentle pace to test the waters. Even though this night is devoted to him, he wants you to enjoy this as well. He wants to slide deeper inside you, but he doesn’t know exactly how to rearrange himself. You look back at him and smile, and then bend forward slightly. 

He pulls back his hips and enters back into you. Oh, this new angle definitely feels much better. And even though you’re no longer completely flush against him, he can still smell the intoxicating scent of your shampoo and perfume. You moan loudly after a particularly deep thrust and praise, “You’re doing so well.”

“You feel, oh…” he whimpers. One hand trails up your body and squeezes your breast. It’s so, so soft. Everything about you is just perfect. 

You press your head against his shoulder and look up at him, your breath tickling his neck. You look expectantly up at him, so he nibbles on your ear and kisses your neck. This feels so, so right. 

Severus starts pumping into you at a faster pace, drawing out more gasps from your lips. “Keep going. You feel amazing,” you moan. Your praise makes Severus whine even louder. At this point, he’d do anything for you. He keeps up his pace and eventually reaches such a level of bliss that closes his eyes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘o.’

Severus almost jumps when he feels your walls squeezing around him, dissolving him into a moaning mess. He can feel his cock pulsating again. Merlin, he won’t be able to last much longer. He opens his eyes and although his vision is hazy from all the pleasure, he can tell that you’re smirking wickedly at him. “How does that feel, handsome?” you tease. 

“Please… I can’t…” he whines. His breaths become more shallow and his thrusts become more erratic and messy; he’s rutting against you more than anything. His grip on your hips is so firm that he knows your skin will be peppered with bruises. But his primary concern is that his legs are shaking so aggressively that they might buckle. 

You intentionally squeeze around him again, making Severus sob with pleasure. He can’t handle this anymore; he really can’t. The pleasure is so overwhelming that he thinks his soul might leave his body. And if his soul did, then so be it. At least he’d die a happy man.

“Here, let me help you.” You suddenly pull away, snapping Severus out of his paradise. Before he can protest, however, you spin around, push him to sit on the desk chair, and straddle him. All of it happens so fast that he has no idea he got here or how you got on top of him. It’s probably because his mind is hazy, but how can he complain about this new position when your breasts are hanging directly in his face? 

You slide down onto his cock, your abundant slick making the movement effortless. You grip his shoulders and start to ride him, your breasts bouncing up and down. He stares at them as though he’s stupified, and then takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks. You moan his name and press your chest even closer to him. 

His legs tremble again and he takes in deep breaths in an attempt to stop himself from cumming right then and there. But when you swirl your hips and squeeze your walls, he knows his efforts are of no use; he’s done for. His hips jolt upward and he groans so loudly that he wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors hear him. His cock keeps twitching, ropes of hot cum spilling inside you. It lasts so long that he knows that the second he pulls out, his seed is bound to drop onto the floor and down the desk chair. 

Your body gives no indication of it, but seeing his features drawn in pleasure brings you faster to your orgasm than you thought it would. You moan and trail your hands down to between your legs, rubbing your clit without a rational thought in your mind. Severus jolts as he feels your walls squeezing and spasming as you reach your own orgasm, the feeling making his cock ache with both pleasure and newfound desire. 

Now that the both of you are coming down from your highs, Severus leans his head onto the soft flesh of your breast, the beads of sweat on his forehead wetting your chest. His eyes are shut as he silently embraces you, relishing in relaxing against you. Never could he have imagined a better way to lose his virginity. 

He wishes he could stay here forever with you and forget all his responsibilities, though he knows you’ll leave after tonight and potentially never see you again. You’ll move on with your life and forget about him, but his memory of you will forever be engrained in his mind. Severus has to push all these thoughts far into his mind before he can get upset. 

Instead, he whispers “you are amazing,” his voice sounding as though it might fade away. You deserve nothing less than the highest praise. Honestly, he wants to tell you that this was the best moment of his life. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper. You twirl his hair with your finger and look down at him with a twinkle in your eyes. Perhaps you’re only saying that because you want to be nice or because you’re paid to make him feel good. Yet seeing that twinkling ignites hope inside of him, overturning previous thoughts about all of this just being a part of your job. Deep down in his heart, he thinks you’re telling the truth. Maybe, just maybe, you have grown attached to him as well. 

You’re still breathing heavily as you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes. The two of you sit still in this position for what feels like an eternity, yet Severus couldn’t care if actually did last an eternity; he’d be happy here in your arms. He’s never been as happy anywhere as here, his body against yours. 

At some point, you shift around, ready to stand up from him. Before you can leave him, he kisses you. The kiss is gentle and doesn’t last for more than three seconds, yet he still feels like it’s the last time he’ll ever kiss someone. And maybe it will be. 

You smile at him once he breaks the kiss. You slowly lift your hips off him and stand up. The second you pull out, his seed trickles out of your cunt and drops onto the floor and his legs. He stares between you and the floor, wondering if he’d be able to go for a third round. 

You wave your wand, picking your clothes off the floor and neatly folding them. “Where is your bathroom?” 

“On the right.” 

The sight of you gripping onto your dress irrationally sends him into a panic. Is this it? Is this goodbye? Are you going to get dressed and leave? But he bought you for the entire night. On another note, though, he won’t force you to stay if you want to leave. His words come out in a hurry as he adds, “If you desire, you can take a shower. I have shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. You can stay the night as well. Only if you wish to, of course.”

You smile at him and nod. “Thank you, Severus. I think I’ll take you up on both your offers.” You press a kiss to his cheek and head out of the room. Even though the kiss was quick, the feeling of your lips against his cheeks burns in his mind. 

His heart soars at the fact that you’ll be staying overnight, but it quickly sinks when he remembers what his bedroom looks like. It would be a miracle if you weren’t disgusted by the slimy potion jars he hid there earlier, or disappointed at his lack of organization. Severus rushes to the bedroom and waves his wand over his sheets, mending the holes in the fabric. Muttering “Colovaria” under his breath, he changes both the comforter and pillowcase to be a deep green. There’s only one pillow, but he can sleep downstairs. At least the bed looks halfway decent now. 

When you come out of the bathroom, a towel is wrapped around your body and water drips from your hair. You smile shyly at him and say, “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your towel.”

“No, that is perfectly acceptable.”

“By the way, I’m done with the bathroom. You can use it now if you want.” 

Severus nods at you and then heads into the bathroom. An odd part of him doesn’t want to shower, to wash away your scent and the traces of your touch. Yet he still turns on the water and scrubs his body, knowing that you won’t be able to linger on his body forever anyway. 

After his shower, he dries his body instantly with a charm and puts on pajamas that don’t look beaten up. Usually, he throws something on and tumbles into bed. This time, he stands in front of the mirror and rearranges the fabric to make himself look more presentable for you. 

He walks back into the bedroom and finds you wearing your lingerie. Seeing you like this, about to go to bed, feels wrong. The night isn’t particularly warm and you should be sleeping in something more comfortable. 

“You do not need to sleep in that,” he comments. He opens his wardrobe and turns to look at you. “Do you have anything to sleep in?”

“I… You don’t want me to sleep like this?” you ask, confused. “And I don’t, actually.”

He finds it strange that you don’t have pajamas tucked away in your bag. Haven’t you had to sleep in a bed other than your own for your job? Nevertheless, he finds pajamas and hands them to you. “Here. You may wear this. It will be large on you, but it is comfortable.”

“Thank you, Severus,” you say quietly. You briefly look up at him and smile, and Severus briefly notices a strange look in your eye. But before he can say anything or decipher that look, you take the pajamas and slip off your bra and panties. He turns around as you undress, embarrassed to look at your body, as though he hasn’t seen you naked before. 

You pat the pillow and smooth down the blankets, getting all cozy in his bed. He takes this as his cue to head for the door. But just as he’s about to turn around to wish you a good night, you stop him. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Downstairs.” He pulls on the handle as he hears you laugh. 

“No, silly! Come here!” You pat the blankets next to you, beckoning him to join you. Concerns about invading your privacy and comfort flood his mind, but then he sees the inviting smile on your face and relaxes. If anything, he’s excited to sleep next to you. 

Your face scrunches in confusion as Severus joins you on the mattress.  “Where’s your pillow?”

“I only have one,” he admits sheepishly. When Severus inherited this house from his parents, he wanted to erase the memories of his childhood from the house. He threw out his childhood bed and converted his old bedroom into an office. Then, he threw out almost all his parents’ items, their bedding set included. The last thing he wants at the beginning and end of every day is to be reminded of them. 

“Oh. You can take this then.” You lift your head from the pillow, but Severus stops you. 

“It is yours. You are the guest, after all.”

“That feels wrong,” you say. You scrunch your brows together and then your face lights up. “I have an idea. How about you take the pillow and I use your shoulder as my pillow instead?”

Severus’s heart skips a beat at the thought of cuddling with you, partially from nervousness and partially because he’s never cuddled with anyone before. He extends his arms to you and hopes you won’t notice his racing heart. 

After getting cozy on his arm and resting your hand on his chest, you look up at Severus and smile. Neither of you say anything or move in for a kiss; you both just lie there until you eventually drift off. He watches you as you sleep, taking in the delicate lines of your face and the rising and falling of your chest. 

No matter how hard he pushes it in the back of his mind, Severus has to admit to himself that he’s fallen for you. When you part from him tomorrow, he’ll be parting with the first person to make him feel alive in a long time. He watches as you rest, allowing the seconds to tick by, hoping that time will slow down if neither of you moves from this position. But after an hour of trying to slow down time, Severus finally sinks into a deep slumber. As he drifts off, the last thought that crosses his mind is how desperately he wishes that morning will never arrive.

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 9 — PREDATOR ﾉ PREY. gallagher x f!reader ﾉ delivering this basket to your grandmother sounds easy enough until you find out 1) she’s not home and 2) someone else is.

note — submission for @pixelcafe-network’s challenge friday #4. i was assigned little red riding hood for our fairytale theme!

contains — established relationship; acting ﾉ role playing. predator/prey (wolf!gallagher), tw consensual non-consent (tw cnc), oral (receiving), muffling (glove), fingering, squirting, overstim, pet names, fear play & size kink if you squint ^^;

The forest seems to be much quieter than usual.

You subconsciously pick up the pace to ease your mind. It’s as if the birds have unanimously decided to go somewhere else to sing— and even the rabbits you typically feed on your way to your grandmother’s place are nowhere to be found today.

It’s completely silent aside from your own footsteps— the only noise apart from the thoughts in your head. It’s a bit odd, you think… the sun is still out, and the weather has been clear lately. Absolutely nothing’s wrong— from what you can see, at least.

Is it just something in the air today?

You’re struck with a sense of uneasiness as soon as you reach her home. Even her door looks a bit ominous. Certainly not as cheerful and inviting as you’ve grown used to, but you chalk it up to your nerves from the strange silence. A knock would probably be fine.

Your hand hovers hesitantly over the door before you swallow your paranoia and knock once, gulping when the noise practically echoes throughout her home.

A chill runs down your spine. “..Hello?”

It falls silent again, and the fear returns to your chest. “..Grandmother? I brought you a basket of goods from the village…”

The door seems to creek open on its own at this— just enough for you to nervously peer inside. It’s empty… and normal. Everything seems to be in place- as if your grandmother had simply just vanished from the Earth. It sends another wash of nerves down your spine, but you shake it off and continue towards her bedroom.

“It has….” you call out to no one in particular, taking slow, cautious steps down the hall. “..Apples. We baked you a cake too. It’s small though— we put some strawberries in it— um.. G-Grandmother?”

You stiffen as soon as you enter her bedroom, as if on instinct. Something isn’t right- your mind must be playing tricks on you. She’s.. she’s in bed? She still doesn’t say anything to you, even when the old wood creeks underneath your weight.

It’s not right— doesn’t look right. Something’s very, very off about this. Every muscle in your body locks in place when you try to speak. “Who…. who.. are you?”

Whatever is hiding behind the blankets starts to move, and you stumble a couple steps backwards, eyes widening when it finally looks back at you— or you should really say— when he finally looks back at you.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat. That is not your grandmother.

The fight or flight response takes less than a second to kink in. You’re running faster than you think you’re even capable of, racing to the door before you could manage to let out a single scream. The world is reduced to a blur when you swiftly turn the corner—

It’s right there. You hear him chasing after you, but the door is right there. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Just a little further and—

A large hand loops around your wrist, and your body suddenly jerks backwards. “O-ow—mmph!” You stumble backwards before your back roughly collides against his chest, and the other hand clasps around your mouth only a second later.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you hear him chuckle when you try to claw against his arm, “just where do you think you’re going?”

He’s strong- and you’re sure he knows this. Doesn’t hesitate when he lets go of your wrist to snake an arm around your waist and pull you flush against him. His arms feel big around you too.

“Hmmm…” he hums, and you gasp when you feel him dip down to take a sharp inhale directly into your pulse point, “not so fast, you lil’ rabbit.”

He laughs a bit when you try to say something against his palm. Laughs hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of his chest. His body feels warm when he tightens his embrace around you— and it’s only then when you realize whatever’s pressing into your ass feels even warmer. It feels big.

“There’s no need to panic…”

You struggle anyways. Push and jerk back hard enough to stumble and fall onto your knees, and he takes the opportunity to pin both your hands behind your back and hold you still for him.

“W-wait!”

“Hm?” He suddenly stills behind you, and the hold on your wrists loosens a little. You don’t say anything else. No mention of that word that’ll get him to stop in an instant… nothing but an impatient sway of your hips.

He lets out a gentle sigh.

“Don’t make so much noise,” he flips up your dress, and you suck in a deep breath. “It’s nothing personal. Wolf’s gotta eat. And you happen to look delicious.”

“I-I’m.. not. Please don’t kill me,” you start to beg, craning your neck to plead with the man looming over you. “I don’t think— don’t think I’ll be delicious.”

He laughs at this too. Enough to let go of your hands, and your palms slam onto the wooden floor to catch yourself from falling. “Oh, you’re just too cute, aren’t you? Making deals with a wolf? What a bold, bold girl you are.”

Your eyes widen when he slips off a glove before balling it up in his fist. “Okay then. Just one taste. If you make it, then that’s good for you, isn’t it?”

It’s your only shot. Your only chance. You give in and nod, and the smile he returns sets the deal in stone. You’d be the helpless bunny under him, and he’d be the hungry wolf.

“Mm—!” the glove is roughly pushed into your mouth the next moment, and he’s pulling your hips back towards him. “Can’t have you making too much noise, sweet bunny. What if the other animals hear and want a taste of my meal? We can’t have that, can we?

“So better behave yourself.”

You clench your eyes shut. It’s the only way you can hide. You close them tight, ball your fists up and wait for him to have his way. It doesn’t help that you’re soaked— you know you are, and you know he’ll say something about—

“Soaked through your panties?”

He pulls the fabric aside to press his palm over your cunt, and a needy whine threatens to slip out. “What? Dying to get eaten out here?” Gallagher puts a little more pressure into it now— pushes his fingertips against your clit and you jolt. How sensitive. Exactly what he wants.

“N-no! I’m not..”

“Oh,” a deep laugh erupts from his chest again, “really now? Then how do you explain this mess?”

He slides a finger inside, and the noise that follows makes your face burn. That wet? Actually that wet? No way.

“A—ah!”

He never planned on letting you respond in the first place. He starts lewdly fucking the digit in and out of you, curling it deep inside you and it’s loud. It’s embarrassing. Your thighs start to tremble from the movements— body instantly recognizing the familiar touch.

Just like a domesticated pet. “Mm. You’re drenched.”

“Gonna cover me in it before we even start?” You shake your head adamantly, and he huffs. “Haven’t even gotten a taste yet, bunny.”

“So… let’s see. Let me… take a look first.”

Every muscle in your body freezes when you feel his breath fan against your cunt. He’s so close— you can feel each exhale against your clit— feels good. Feels really, really good.

“U-um…” you mumble into your arm.

“That’s just right,” he laughs, and your walls flutter around nothing. The position he’s holding you in makes your heart pound. You’ve never had it like this. Cheek pressed against the floor and your hips held up high for him. There’s nothing for you to grab onto— nothing to hold— leaves you with no other choice but to hide your face in your arms and let him have you however he wishes. “What a treat. I’m gonna devour you whole.”

D-Devour?

It happens too fast for you. Starts with one, slow, long stripe up your cunt— he uses the flat of his tongue to get a good taste of you and you shiver and whimper.

Gallagher stills, tongue still flat against your cunt. The noise that leaves his throat next is akin to a growl— rumbles against your clit and fills your core with heat— and then it’s over just like that. The grip around your hips tighten abruptly, and he’s buried deep in your cunt the next second.

“A-ah!” You cry into your own hands, eyes rolling back into your skull. It’s messy— nothing short of primal. He laps at your cunt, flicks his tongue at your clit and pulls you flush against his face. You can’t run from it— can’t squirm or budge with the way he’s holding you like captured prey. “F-fuck!” You manage to choke out a curse, and you feel him laugh against you again.

“A vulgar little bunny, aren’t you? Thought I told you not to attract others to my meal, didn’t I? Where’s the silence?” His grip around your thighs tighten, and you yelp. “I don’t like getting distracted while I eat.”

Your hands clasp harder against your mouth as soon as the words register in your ears. Eyes clenched shut, thighs going numb, and the sound of him devouring you whole is even louder than you could ever be.

It all feels too good. Way too good. Too good for your mind to even comprehend that you’re getting close.

You don’t expect your orgasm to hit you like a truck. It comes out of nowhere and you cum hard, screaming into your fingers as you gush all over his face.

But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. Gallagher doesn’t slow down even when you twitch and tremble violently from the aftershocks.

“A-ah, I— wait…!” He gives another squeeze around your thighs, and you think you get the message.

[cherriicou]

‘MV SHOOT’

MDNI 18+

SUMMARY | wonwoo and mingyu invite you over for a 'mv shooting’.

PAIRING | idol!mingyu x fem!reader x idol!wonwoo

CONTENT | threesome, unprotected sex (be safe), dumbification, slight choking, degrading, sub! reader, nipple play, overstimulation

WORDS | 693

A/N | sleepy write before bed. was watching nana tour while doing this lol.

it was quite a surprise when your friends mingyu and wonwoo invited you to their apartment for a 'business project'. saying that they had a song recorded and wanted you to appear in their mv.

they had never mentioned their own song coming out so you naively agreed and hurried to their apartment.

the moment you walked in the door, they both stood next to each other with a matching set outfit folded in mingyu's hands. it took them hoursss to find an outfit that suit both of their tastes. knowing that you'd wear it no matter how skimpy you thought it was just for them made this moment so much more exciting. you, unaware of their intentions, happily took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

wonwoo and mingyu waited in the kitchen; one sitting on the stool near the island and the other leaning against the counter. whilst you're trying to be pretty for them, they start to imagine how good you'll look. the dirty thoughts making their muscles tense and veins visibly shown.

the door opens; mingyu almost falls off the chair and wonwoo's legs tremble a bit as he straightens up from the counter. your is hair perfectly sitting on the tiny shirt that is barely hiding any cleavage, the tight high waisted skirt compliments your curves, and the stockings that only go up to your mid-thigh is all so breathtaking. it was perfect. and it was just for them.

you let out a tiny cough of shyness. 'isn't it a bit revealing? won't i get hate comments?' the innocent question makes them put on a smirk. oh, you're about to get the farthest thing away from hate.

‘aw my gorgeous girl,’ mingyu walks closer to you.

'we won't let anyone tell you a single thing, isn't that right woo?' wonwoo nods, his eyes looking up and down your body.

'why don't you head upstairs where we set up the cameras hm?' wonwoo snakes his hands around your waist, pushing you towards the stairs calmly.

'upstairs.?' mingyu looks down at you while you stayed standing at the bottom of stairs confused.

'just follow him, pretty.’ wonwoo pats your head softly. you scurry up the stairs and wonwoo sighs at your skirt revealing hints of your ass after each step you take.

it all happened so fast.

now being on all fours, being pounded behind by mingyu. whilst wonwoo uses your mouth roughly, groaning while your moans vibrate around his cock.

"aren't you a stupid slut hm? really thought we'd let everyone see what's ours?" mingyu brings his thumb to your overly sensitive clit, causing you to jolt closer towards wonwoo.

"is that what you wanted? show our fans your pretty little body?" you shook your head in vigour, your body already shaking from the overstimulation.

"look at her, mingyu. too dumbfucked to even comprehend words." wonwoo grabbed onto your throat, making you stare directly into his fox-like eyes. eyes completely darkened as he took in the sounds of your moans and the fucked out state you were currently in.

"please! t-too.. much..!" the overbearing pleasure is too much that you feel like you're going to break soon.

"t-t-too much" mingyu mocks you, grinning at the way he felt your cunt start to tighten for the third time. wonwoo's hands knead your breasts and pulled at your nipples while mingyu continued to work on your abused pussy, driving you into insensibility of the moment.

"mingyu! ah- wonwoo! please.. c-cant!" The two men only groan at your pleads, steering them more into euphoria. wonwoo pulls you into a messy make out session. you're completely brain fucked, making kissing you even more enjoyable as you can't control your movements.

"you've got it. take it, yea? like we're trained you before." they then switch places so fast, not even a second to breathe from the amount of energy that's being taken from your body.

wonwoo groans as he enters you, making you shiver and moan loudly while holding onto mingyu's biceps. "now let me see the beautiful view i couldn't see before"

there was no chance this was ending soon.

[httpknjoon]

from your point of view | myg

plot | that time bassist!yoongi thinks popstar!yn is not that versatile when performing her songs. (alternative: that time bassist!yoongi made popstar!yn cry— unintentionally!)

w.c | 2476

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, angst, enemies to lovers

note | thank you to @seolaquotes for sending this one! hope u like it <3

main masterlist | want to request?

DAY 60 of Love Is... On Tour

"Okay, you all can take your breaks. Just come back before three."

As soon as Art concluded the rehearsals, everyone began leaving the arena. The dancers chat while picking up their bags. You were talking with Art about the setlist while you two walked away. Yoongi was just removing the guitar over his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Noah found a place with the best beer five minutes away. Do you want to come?" Fred asked while the others waited for his reply.

Yoongi looked at his guitar, scratching the back of his head. "There's something wrong with my guitar. Send me the location, and I'll catch up later."

The other members nodded and said their goodbyes. Alone, Yoongi just sat on the stage floor to tune it. The issue has been bugging him since the rehearsals began, causing him to have errors and delays that made you give him an obvious side-eye in almost every song.

"There it is..." Yoongi whisphered to himself as begun turning the pegs.

Listening carefully to the tune of his guitar, he did not even notice you walking back on the stage. You were planning to rehearse some of your songs alone, so you decided to come back after getting another bottle of water for yourself. You were quietly scrolling down on your phone when you noticed him sitting on a corner of the stage, alone with his guitar. You raised an eyebrow.

"You're still here?" You asked since you saw the others leaving together. Fred even invited her to go with them to the pub near the concert venue.

"Have to tune my guitar." Yoongi replied, not even looking up at you.

It has been a week since that night you two had an intense staring contest. Yoongi really followed what Art told him. He never looked directly at you before, during, and even after the rehearsals again. You don't know if he's a good follower or just sarcastically playing with you. But either way, it's getting to your nerves.

You didn't say anything anymore. Instead, you sat in front of him and stared like you were waiting for him to do something. He stopped for a second.

As soon as he realized that you decided to watch him, he clicked his tongue, "Uhm, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," you replied with a cheeky grin even though he won't look at you. By your coy reply, Yoongi can immediately imagine that you were smiling when you said that.

Your plans of rehearsing alone are now tossed aside and you make it a challenge for yourself to make your least favorite band member meet your eyes. You don't know why, but out of every staff and crew member who works here, Yoongi is the only one you don't really get along with. Was it the ugly first meeting? Or the uglier first impressions that lasted until now? Maybe it is something deeper. Who knows? You don't. But for now, you know that you like getting a reaction out of his usual blank expression.

"So, this is your first world tour?" you asked, internally determined to break him while he's busy.

"Yes," he replied, still turning the pegs in his guitar.

"But you worked with Harry before, right? Why didn't you join his band then?"

When you were looking for a replacement for your past band, Art endorsed Yoongi with the mention that he worked with Harry Styles on his first and second albums. Other than playing for him, he also produced and wrote a few songs with him. But, he didn't join Harry's two-year world tour that just ended months ago. Since Art seemed to really like him, you just agreed to take him for your band and never knew any more about his back story.

"My fiancee didn't want long-distance relationship," he answered like he didn't just say something of a big deal.

Your eyebrows raised, "You're getting married?!"

Instead of an answer, there was a long silence between you two. Suddenly, you feel a strange tension entering the stage. Yet, Yoongi has not laid his eyes on you. Instead, a heavy sigh comes out of his lips.

"Why are you here? It's break time."

You cleared your throat, tucking a hair strand behind your ear, "I wanted to rehearse alone."

"Is me fixing my guitar here will bother your activity?" he asked, looking at your fingers drumming on the ground.

You noticed that and decided to stop your tapping fingers. Testing, you laid your hand to your lap, feeling your cotton sweatpants. His eyes followed.

"Not really." you smirked when his eyes followed your fingers running through your hair. then, you snapped your fingers in front of your face. "Finally!"

"What?" his forehead creased.

"You looked at me. We've been talking for ten minutes and you won't just look at me," you explained.

"I thought you don't want anyone looking at you." he reminded you.

"...Not anyone." you tried correcting him.

It was his turn to smirk when he replied, "If that rule was just for me, then why are you putting too much effort to make me look at you right now?"

It was like your brain stopped for a moment. You cannot process any answer to that. Why do you even like annoying him? Or getting a reaction out of him? Are you that pressed about him? Why do you even want him to look—

"YN, here's the second setlist!"

Art! Thank goodness, Art showed up! You scramble to get up to meet your tour manager who was stepping on the edge of the stage. Cal was behind him since you asked her before to watch your new song choices for later. You see one of her brows raised when she noticed Yoongi on stage. She eyed him and you like she was making up something in her head.

"Oh, Yoongi, you're here?" Art asked him.

He nods, "Yep, had to fix something with this thing."

"Great! YN changed up some of the songs in the setlist. Maybe you can try playing it while she rehearse?" He asked.

You wanted to protest, not wanting to spend more time with him since you blacked out when he confronted you just a minute ago. But before you can even say something, Yoongi already nodded his head and began strumming his now-fixed guitar.

"Sure."

You had three songs changed in your setlist. It's not unusual as you always do it almost every week, wanting to surprise your fans every once in a while. For tonight, you put your famous less energentic love songs on the list.

"Is that okay?" you asked after singing the last one.

Art nods, giving you a thumbs up. Cal agreed even though it looked like she hesitated for a second. Since Yoongi is in the room too, you looked at him for any comments.

"I don't know. It kinda feels like you are zoning out when you're performing your less lively songs." He shrugged, removing his guitar on his lap and placing on its stand.

"Excuse me?" Your nostrils flared, Yoongi noticed.

"Like for instance, POV. The song is beautiful, the lyrics is really sincere. But I cannot feel anything from you every time you sing it." He explained. "It's like you were just trying to get over it so you can move on to your next songs."

Your throat tightened like it's hard to speak. Was he wrong? He's not. And you hate it. When you are singing the songs you wrote based on a relationship that eventually ended with infidelity, of course, you will find yourself dissociating. Most of your love songs were written about Theo, your ex-boyfriend -slash-ex-bassist, and everyone knows it. As much as you love those songs, you hate who it was associated with and sometimes you just want to space out rather than think of him while singing it.

You hate that Yoongi sees right through you.

You placed a hand on your hip. "And what do you know about performing?"

"You know that I'm a producer too, right?"

A lopsided smile was on his face when he said that. Hating how nonchalant he was, you rolled your eyes.

"Anyway, I'll go. I'll catch up with the others at the pub," he said, not even giving you a chance to bite back.

Out of curiosity, while you were still in your free time hours before the concert, you began looking up your performances online. You don't really watch a lot of videos of yourself online since you feel too vain in doing so. Plus, being a perfectionist, you will just end up pointing out the things you should have and have not done while watching those clips.

But you needed to confirm your bass guitarist's comments about you. So, you downloaded TikTok and opened your burner account. You quickly typed in your name on the search bar and scrolled down to find videos of you from your current tour. That is how you came across a compilation made by your fan, titled:

✨YN dissociating for three minutes straight✨

What the fuck?!

"Was it really that obvious when I'm singing those songs?" You asked, looking at Cal through the mirror.

It's been a couple of hours since you watched those videos. You are now sat in the make-up chair, wearing your bedazzled bodysuit, prepping up to perform in a few minutes.

"What?" Cal asked since she was busy fixing up your schedule for the next few days.

"That I'm spacing out?" you spoke quietly before chewing on your lips.

Your assistant noticed you being affected by what Yoongi said since he left for the pub. She saw you watching videos online, which she thought added more self-doubt. But she knew that you always wanted real and honest answers.

"In all honesty, honey, there are times I feel like you were slipping out."

You nodded at that, appreciating her honest comment.

"Faye?" You called your hair and makeup artist's attention, asking for her opinion.

She nods, agreeing with Cal, but you can read the sympathy in her eyes, "But your voice is great—"

"It's just the emotions, it's gone." you ended the sentence for her.

You looked down while your assistant and HMUA looked at each other. Maybe you really need to tap into those emotions again. It wouldn't be that bad, right?

"It's like you got superpowers, turn my minutes into hours..."

Yoongi watched from the band's spot on stage as you performed the song he criticized earlier. Thinking about that make his stomach sinks. He wondered if he said too much. You avoided eye contact with him when they returned for the last rehearsal earlier when they got back from the pub. You spoke quietly and was sighing a lot like you were frustrated. The guilt sits heavily on his chest.

"You know me better than I do, can't seem to keep nothing from you..."

Now in a sparkly, silver long gown, Yoongi's comments replayed in your head. You want to prove him wrong, so you begin looking back at the time you wrote the song. You let your fingers play with the mic stand in front of you while you sing.

"I wanna love me, the way that you love me..."

There he is. Theo. His face flashed in your head and everything you've done together in the last four years. Suddenly, you were transported at the time you two were alone in the studio. He was sleeping on the couch because you promised you two would go home after writing one more song.

"I wanna trust me, the way that you trust me..."

You were sparkling while your fans turned on their camera flashes. Yoongi observed you. Tonight was definitely different. Your voice felt fragile, like you were about to break at any moment.

"You love my lips 'cause they say the things we've always been afraid of..."

A knot tightens in your throat. You held on to the stand before you, trying to find stability. You felt your heart beating faster while reliving the good times of your past relationship. Then, you remember the first headline you read the day you decided to end it all.

"I couldn't believe it or see it for myself. Boy, I be impatient, but now I'm out here..."

Your voice shakes. The whole arena was quiet but the shared sympathy for you was obvious. Everyone knows how your relationship went as the break-up was highly publicized during the first week of your tour. Yoongi watched you remove your mic from the stand and begin sitting in the middle of center stage with the spotlight focused on you.

"And if my eyes deceive me, won't let them stray too far away..."

The song originally don't have any bass guitar in it, but you were losing it. So you turned your head down, letting the tears fall down. Yoongi notoced you raising your fingers. You rubbed your thumb and index finger together before drawing two checkmarks like you're strumming a guitar.

He instantly picked up and began playing his guitar, in tune with the instrumental of the emotional song. Earlier, you asked to put a short instrumental between the bridge and the last chorus since you wanted to enjoy the surprise song. The fans cheered as the bass guitar added a new vibe to the emotional song.

"I wanna love me, the way that you love me..."

The fans began singing back to you. You close your eyes, and a small smile forms on your lips. Your ears are filled with their voices. Everyone watched as you softly swayed to the song. You even removed your in-ear to hear their singing fully. Your heart slowly warms up, sending peace into your system.

"I wanna trust me, the way that you trust me, baby..."

You began singing again, walking on each corner of the stage to be closer to your fans. You point to them before putting the same hand on your chest as you continue,

"'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do, I'd love to see me from your point of view..."

The next day. It was only two-thirty in the morning and you were getting ready to leave your hotel room to leave for another state, when you heard a couple of knocks on your door.

"Just come in, Cal!" you said.

But you didn't hear the door open. So, you got up from your bed and opened it yourself. That's when you spotted a Milwaukee souvenir notebook on the carpeted ground. You picked it up when you saw a written note on paper taped on its cover.

sorry, didn't mean to make you cry. write more beautiful songs of urs.

ps. can't find any other notebooks here in the hotel. sorry 4 that 2

note | holiday themed drabbles coming up soon

SERIES TAGLIST

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[profundcherrylady]

Thinking about yoichi isagi dating an Itoshi, Sae and Rin's little sister who is for sure someone unique. Contrary to popular belief, she's very sweet (to him); she just has a bit of a rough exterior. Her nonchalant attitude and piercing teal eyes, along with her unfiltered words, often come off as rude to most people, but Isagi knew better; he had managed to crack the walls she set up protecting her real personality, and he couldn't be happier with what he found inside. People would often stare amazed at how he could read the slightest change on her blank expression, praising how well he knew her to always know exactly what she needed; from just a warm cup of coffee to fight her tiredness to a soft hug to lift up her spirits. Now they were 24 and 22, celebrating two years of being together.

Or at least what she understood by celebrating, which was essentially staying home and skipping her responsibilities by laying down on bed and relaxing like a lazy cat.

A cat. How could he ever need a cat when he has her? He smiled sweetly at her figure comfortably resting; hair tousled and a shirt of his put on to, as she stated before, 'smell his scent' while he was away practicing or training. She could not care less about football or the fact that he couldn't skip his responsibilities to stay with her today, she would just wait until he came home.

"Honey." he called, earning a soft mumble as a response. "Let's go out."

"Why?"

"'Cause it's our anniversary."

"So?"

"So I want to do something nice for you. 'Cause that's what couples do on anniversaries, y'know? We give each other stuff and go out for dinner or something. Do you wanna do that?"

"No." to anyone else that answer might've seen cold and cruel, but not to him; he knew she was just too comfortable to get out of bed, and that saying 'no' to his invitation was her way of saying 'stay here with me'. But she was too stubborn to ask him directly, that he also knew, and yet he felt like teasing her a little.

"What do you wanna do then?" she opened her eyes, finally, and looked at him silently. Her usual blank stare was piercing through him, like trying to non-verbally communicate what she wanted. And it did, he knew, and she knew that he knew, and she also knew that he wanted her to say it. But just like a stubborn cat, she didn't say anything else. She adjusted herself on the bed, changing positions slightly, and stretched; a yawn that almost resembled a meowl escaping her lips. And then nothing else; the message was clear. She wanted him to join her in bed and cuddle, because she missed him while he was out, but fire would fall from the sky before she said that out loud even though they were in a long-term relationship. Typical Itoshi, he thought. It was like Rin calling him 'lukewarm' all over again.

"Just do whatever then..." she finally said, still refusing to admit what she wanted. "I'll sleep.."

"Wanna cuddle?" he could almost see the imaginary cat ears on she had on his head twitch in alert, and the thought almost made him chuckle. He silently walked towards the bed and layed down next to her, where almost instantly she trapped him on her arms. Head laid on his chest and his arm used as a pillow, she became inmediately relaxed as she took a deep breath of his scent.

"You stink." yet she made no effort in pulling away. He could almost hear her purring like an actual cat.

"I'll go take a bath if that's the case." he said it as a joke, and then laughed when he heard her mumble a complain.

"No." he didn't actually stink. He did just return from training, but he took a shower previously right after he came home.

He then placed his free hand on top of her head and started playing with her hair, and she let out a sigh as he felt his fingers scratching her scalp softly, yet just right.

"Better now?"

"Yeah..." she purred, finally letting down her walls again. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." he placed a soft kiss on her head. "You still don't wanna go out?"

"Hmm... too tired..." she murmured. "It's comfortable here..."

"Alright, then. We'll celebrate lowkey this year; let's just chill... you hungry though? We can still order takeout or whatever."

"Noooo... just stay here." she gave him a bite when he tried to sit up. An old habit she (according to Sae) had ever since she was a kid. To bite people she likes; she would apparently always get in trouble for bitting Rin or him when they were little. Their parents would discover the bite marks on their arms and ground her because she isn't an animal, or her teachers would call home after she bit some of the classmates or teachers she particularly liked. It was weird, Sae stated, like Rin's strange habit of drooling and sticking out his tongue. Seems none of the Itoshis can be normal members of society.

"Ouch." the bite didn't really hurt but it was always funny to pretend it did. He didn't mind it; he thought it was cute. "Okay, I'm staying in bed. Happy?"

"Yes."

"You still want your anniversary gifts at least?"

"I don't need gifts, nor anything else; I just want to stay like this." he smiled before moving his head down to press a kiss on her lips, which she recieved happily, his own lips moving in experienced synchronization with hers. He stayed there, refusing to pull away for a while, because she was right. This was too comfortable to do anything else; it was better to stay like this.

Oh, well, the ring on the gift box he had prepared would have to wait another year, but this moment made it all worth it.

A/N: I love Isagi too much y'all 😭🙏

Btw this was inspired by an oc of mine, that's why it's so specific; I was just thinking about her and wanted to write something.

[aventurineswife]

hello! platonic aventurine,blade,jing yuan and sunday with a teen!reader like akane kurokawa?

reader is a genius actress specializing in theater, but theyre also like a detective, theyre able to accurately psychoanalyse and understand what happened

The Art of Perception

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Blade x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Teen!Reader, Actor/Actress and Detective!Reader, Akane Kurosawa based Reader, Platonic Relationships, Mentorship, Psychological Insights, Mystery Solving, Mutual Respect.

Warnings: Themes of moral ambiguity, mentorship dynamic, light tension.

In the dazzling world of high-stakes gambling, where the clatter of roulette wheels and the shuffle of cards formed the rhythm of life, you—a teen with an uncanny gift for psychoanalysis—had caught the eye of none other than Aventurine.

You weren’t just a rising star in the theater world; your ability to dissect human behavior and unravel complex situations had earned you comparisons to seasoned detectives. Aventurine wasn’t drawn by your fame—he was intrigued by your mind. A meeting between the two of you was inevitable.

The setting was an exclusive gala hosted by the IPC. You were invited to entertain the guests, performing an intricate one-act play. Aventurine, lounging by the roulette table, observed you with mild curiosity as you captivated the audience with a performance that seemed almost too real.

After the applause subsided, Aventurine approached you with his trademark grin.

"Bravo! That was a performance worth betting on. But tell me, little star, how much of that was acting, and how much was you?"

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. "Both," you replied with a small smile. "Acting is just another way of understanding people, isn’t it? And you—" Your gaze narrowed. "—you’re a gambler, but you’re not here to win money. You’re here because the stakes are higher than anyone realizes."

Aventurine chuckled, the sound as smooth as a well-played bluff. "Impressive. Few can read me like an open book. What gave it away?"

"The way you observe people," you replied. "You’re not watching for their weaknesses. You’re watching to see if they’ll play the way you want them to."

For the first time in years, Aventurine felt genuinely caught off-guard. He saw potential in you—a spark that reminded him of his own strategic brilliance. What began as a chance encounter turned into a mentorship of sorts, with Aventurine teaching you the art of calculated risk, while you offered him insights into human nature he hadn’t considered before.

A dimly lit alley on a forgotten world was no place for a theater prodigy, but you weren’t here for a performance. You were here to solve a mystery—the disappearance of several citizens. What you didn’t expect was to cross paths with Blade, the Stellaron Hunter.

You had been tracking clues all day, your sharp mind piecing together fragments of the puzzle. When you finally encountered Blade, standing amidst the ruins of an old theater, your first instinct wasn’t fear but curiosity.

"You’re not the one taking them." you said, your voice calm despite Blade’s menacing aura.

Blade turned, his eyes narrowing. "And you’re not afraid of me. Why?"

You stepped closer, your gaze unwavering. "Because you’re not here to harm me. You’re here because you’re looking for someone."

Blade remained silent, intrigued by your audacity. You continued, "You carry guilt. It’s written all over you—in the way you stand, the way you avoid looking at me directly. You think saving these people will make up for something, don’t you?"

Blade’s fist tightened. "You talk too much."

"And you don’t talk enough," you countered. "But that’s okay. I don’t need words to understand you."

Despite himself, Blade found a reluctant respect for your insight. As you worked together to uncover the true culprit behind the disappearances, Blade began to see you as more than just a curious child—you were a mirror, reflecting parts of himself he thought he’d buried long ago.

The grand chambers of the Xianzhou Luofu were no stranger to visitors, but a teen with the reputation of a genius actor/actress was a rare sight. Jing Yuan had invited you personally after hearing of your knack for solving mysteries.

He reclined in his seat, eyes half-lidded as you entered. "Ah, the prodigy arrives. Tell me, do you only act on stage, or is this entire visit a performance?"

You smirked. "That depends. Are you genuinely curious, or are you testing me?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, impressed by your sharpness. "I see the rumors didn’t exaggerate. Let’s skip the pleasantries. I have a problem—someone within the Cloud Knights has been leaking information. I’d like you to uncover who."

You accepted the challenge, diving into the task with meticulous care. As you interviewed suspects and analyzed behavior, Jing Yuan observed you closely, marveling at your ability to draw conclusions from the smallest details.

In the end, you revealed the culprit with a flourish, your explanation as captivating as any play. Jing Yuan smiled, a rare expression of genuine admiration. "You’ve done well. Perhaps the next time we meet, I’ll challenge you to a game of chess."

"I’ll win." you replied confidently, earning another chuckle from the general.

The Charmony Festival was in full swing, a celebration of art and music orchestrated by Sunday himself. Among the performers was you, a teen actor/actress whose fame had reached even the distant skies of Penacony.

Sunday approached you after your performance, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Your talent is remarkable," he said. "But I sense there’s more to you than what you show on stage."

You regarded him carefully, noticing the subtle tension behind his serene demeanor. "And you’re not just a festival organizer. You’re hiding something, aren’t you?"

Sunday’s smile faltered for a moment before he recovered. "Perceptive. I see why they call you a genius."

As the festival continued, you found yourself drawn into Sunday’s world, uncovering the truth behind the Sweetdream Paradise. Your sharp mind clashed with Sunday’s idealism, leading to long debates about humanity’s capacity for growth and the morality of.

Despite your differences, Sunday grew to respect your unwavering determination and intellect. In you, he saw a kindred spirit—someone unafraid to challenge the status quo, even if it meant standing against him.

[justivik]

A LITTLE DEATH.

; yandere! twins x fem! reader

tw: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE. smut, cnc content, abuse, p in v, a lot of kinks if u want idk and not a lot of yandere stuff

You left your books in the locker, already old and worn out, and sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the fatigue accumulated from school. The teachers, with their endless homework, and the projects they left only added more stress, offering no respite.

Your school days used to be normal and relatively uneventful, until you met them...

They were twins, strange twins. They maintained a questionable reputation but were attractive enough to distract from your personality; the older one was outgoing with an obsession with bladed weapons, and the younger one was introverted but with a fascination for the warmth of fire.

They were both fascinated and obsessed with you.

You still didn't know the reason, but you hated the position you had found yourself in. Every day you saw them coming towards you, like two Siamese cats, and they tormented you like a little mouse. It all started from the time you talked to the first twin; you helped him with a chemistry assignment and showed interest in his knife collection. Soon after, the second twin came into the picture, as you became concerned when his arm was burned.

The familiar figures appeared in your field of vision and panic set in. You shoved all your notebooks in at once, leaving a mess in the locker, and ran out into the crowd. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light of the campus, anxiously searching for the parking lot. The crowd around you didn't help calm your mind, but at least it kept you distracted. Before you could get away from the bustling area, however, you felt a sudden tug on the sleeve of your backpack, something that made you take a step back and stare in surprise at those eyes that, though they sparkled with a flirtatious sparkle, also reflected a darkness that unnerved you.

“Who are you looking for in such a hurry?” The voice of the older of the twins came through clearly, echoing in the air, as if it could make everything around you stop.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat instantly growing larger. You tried not to look directly into those piercing eyes, but you couldn't help it.

“Answer him, don't be rude” the other twin insisted, lightly slapping your back, you turned to see him with a dirty look but he just smirked at you mockingly.

“I'm not waiting for anyone, leave me alone”

You struggled some more to free yourself, but the older man held you even more firmly, as if he didn't plan to let you escape so easily. His hands were strong, his presence commanding. Something inside you stirred, you knew he was playing a game you didn't fully understand.

“Why are you like this with us? We just want to be with you, and this is how you treat us?” His voice sounded almost plaintive, though the frown and crossed arms gave him an air of defiance. The tone of his voice, that intertwining of frustration and desire, made you feel more uncomfortable than you had imagined.

You felt trapped, as if his every word was just another noose tightening your breath. You took a deep breath, seeking a moment of calm to collect your thoughts. Why did they keep insisting?

“I don't want to make you feel bad, but I just don't feel like I fit in with you” you finally managed to say, the words coming out with some regret, but also certainty. The feeling of being out of place, of not understanding why they were watching you like this, was even more uncomfortable for you than any other.

“Of course you fit in. If we're inviting you to spend the afternoon with us, it's for a reason. Do you know how many girls have tried to get into our plans? And you...you're just wasting the opportunity.”

The older twin's tone was becoming more persuasive, almost accusatory, as his eyes kept watching you with a mixture of frustration and a strange hopefulness. You could feel the tension in the air, as if every word out of his mouth was a challenge.

You felt caught between the desire to make them understand that it wasn't that easy for you and the growing discomfort of being under their constant observation. What did they really want from you? Why were they so insistent that you become part of their world?

“Do you really think it's that simple?” you asked, though the insecurity in your voice betrayed your thoughts. You knew their invitation wasn't as harmless as they were trying to make it seem. They were playing with your hair as you chose your words.

The oldest one let out a low chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.

“You just don't get it, do you? We're not asking you for anything weird. We just want you to stop running away.” His voice, though warm, carried an urgency you couldn't ignore.

Silence settled between the two of you, and you could feel the weight of his presence, a warm sensation began to be felt on your arm, a noble but possessive caress. The younger one prostrated himself behind you letting his breath tickle you while the older one played with your hands.

“Come on, hang out with us for a while.”

You thought about it so much that you didn't have time to realize that they were already directing you to their carpool, maybe spending an afternoon with them might change your mind.

“Let me go, this isn't funny!” you moaned at the boys' warm touch against your button. The firm contact against your sensitive skin covered by your panties made a wet patch form.

They both started laughing excitedly, whispering various sick ideas of how to make you come or even the desire to take you by force and use you as their own living sex doll. They had such macabre ideas that they sounded sadistic and of course they were.

“Stop moving, love. You're going to have to take it whether you want to or not.” The younger one began to loosen his belt while the older one held your arms behind your back with one hand and the other painfully massaged your clitoris. You noticed the great length the youngest twin was carrying.

“God, I'm getting so hard”

He threatened as he smiled.

You protested uncontrollably but your nose was already touching the boy's hard abdomen.

“Open.”

Forcefully you opened your mouth as your hair was pulled hard to perform such an action, his member slowly entered to get used to the warmth of your mouth, lewd sounds rang throughout the room.

The older one complimented you and stroked your hair while the younger one grabbed your jaw and generated perverted comments. Your head was spinning as the tip of the cock hit your uvula, allowing you to breathe for four seconds before taking it again until your face became a mess of cum and saliva.

Now it was the other guy's turn, your head was crushed against the bed by the young man while the boy took off his boxer shorts and then lubricated his member with your liquid, he played with your entrance while you moaned with disgust but at the same time excitement.

You liked being held like this, you even liked them liking you and having them obsessed with you, being your stalkers and acting like an innocent lamb every time they came near you. Now they are taking you by force and without permission.

“Ah! f-fuck” you moaned highly when you felt his member open your entrance.

You felt so full having him inside you, you bit your lip as you looked at the boy who a few minutes ago abused your mouth and of course he would do it again. They were both moving their hips and their mouths were leaving sounds so high pitched they were driving you crazy, they were moaning your name and kinky nicknames like it was a love song.

“N-ngh, so fucking...g-good” heaving breaths only pronounced pleasure.

“I'm going to cum” pronounced both boys then moaned at length as their faces contorted in pleasure and your eyes turned white from so much pleasure too.

Your body collapsed at the end of that act, your breathing was up and down and you could only feel the long fingers of one of the twins playing with the dripping semen and reinserting it into your entrance.

It was going to be a long night.

hi guys 😔😔

[thewulf]

Loving You is Easy || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - What about a jake seresin x reader. Of course jake has a reputation but he truly is in love with bartender reader, so finally he wears her down to a date. They go to a nice restaurant and reader still has has her gates up but she’s slowly realizing who Jake truly is WHEN not one but two of the girls jake hooked up... Read Rest Here

A/N: Another one for my fav cocky pilot. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.2k +

T/W : None just fluff

The clink of glasses and the low hum of the late-night chatter fills the air at The Hard Deck, a place that's become your nightly retreat amidst the demands of school and work. As you finish up your shift behind the bar, wiping down surfaces and stacking glasses, you're acutely aware of Jake Seresin's presence. He's become a regular when you worked. His charm was well-known and his flirtations a constant undercurrent whenever he's around.

"Another evening of mixing drinks and dodging offers, Y/N?" Jake teases while watching you with an amused smirk as he plays with his empty glass sitting in front of him.

Playfully, you roll your eyes at the man who had become a constant in your life. "Just counting down to graduation," you reply. Keeping your tone light even as you avoid meeting his gaze too directly. You've heard stories about Jake, enough to keep a polite distance.

"How about celebrating a bit early? Let me take you out. A real date, not just bar banter that I know you love so much," he proposes while leaning over the bar slightly trying to catch your eye.

You hesitate but you had your response ready. "Jake, I really don't think mixing work with... whatever this is... would be a good idea."

"Just dinner," he presses. But his tone was sincere. "No expectations, no strings. Just two people enjoying good food. Come on, what do you say darling?"

Despite your reservations there's a part of you that's curious. The persistent part that wonders if there might be more to Jake than the rumors and his reputation. After a moment of internal debate, you find yourself nodding, slightly surprised by your own decision.

"Okay, one dinner. Only If it’ll get you to shut up about it" you say with a small smirk adorning your face finally meeting his gaze. "But, Jake, it's just dinner. That's it."

His face lights up with that well-known charming smile. "Just dinner," he agrees while raising his hands in a mock surrender. "You won't regret it."

As he leaves you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. You've maintained your boundaries yet you're stepping into new territory. It's just dinner you have to remind yourself. But as you turn the sign to 'closed' and lock up for the night you can't shake the feeling that it might just be the start of something unexpected. But you tried not to get your hopes up. It’s just dinner.

You step into the upscale restaurant. The ambiance immediately wraps around you. It’s intimate and inviting with its dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Jake stands from a secluded table as soon as he sees you his smile bright and welcoming. "You look absolutely beautiful," he says sincerely before pulling out your chair and taking his own seat.

"Thank you," you reply feeling a faint flutter of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. The effort you put into choosing your outfit seems to have paid off and his notice of it warms you.

Once seated, Jake’s attention is all on you. He turns his phone off and places it face down on the table. A clear sign that this evening is about the two of you. "I remember you mentioned once you loved champagne, particularly the one from that small vineyard in France," he says, signaling the waiter. With a knowing smile he orders a bottle of your favorite champagne, not missing the surprised and pleased look on your face.

"How did you remember that?" you ask as you were both impressed and a bit bewildered. No guy had ever taken the time to remember the small details about you. And here Jake was wooing you already, five minutes in.

"I pay attention," he replies with a shrug that seems both casual and a bit shy. "Especially when it comes to things you like."

The champagne arrives and as Jake pours you a glass his demeanor is gentle, his movements deliberate. You clink glasses with a grin on your face. The first sip is just as you remembered—crisp, with a hint of sweetness, perfect.

"So, tell me about school," Jake prompts you seemingly genuinely interested. "What’s been keeping you busy?"

You share details about your latest projects and the challenges of balancing school with work. Jake listens intently, nodding and asking questions that show he's truly engaged in what you're saying. It's easy to talk to him and you find yourself relaxing more than you expected. The initial walls you had up slowly dissolving in the warmth of the conversation.

Turning the focus to him you recall the pieces of conversation you've picked up at the bar. "I’ve always been curious, Jake. What’s it like being a pilot in the Navy? It must be quite different from anything I can imagine."

Jake's eyes light up with a mix of pride and nostalgia. "It's intense and challenging, but flying is incredible. There’s nothing like the feeling of being up there… the freedom of it, but also the responsibility. Every decision matters. Not just for me but for my crew and everyone we support."

"It sounds amazing," you say with a hint of awe in your voice. "I’ve actually never been on a plane before. Can you believe that?"

Jake looks at you with an incredulous gaze. "What? You've never been on a plane? I’m changing that, darling," he declares with a playful but determined grin. "We’ll have to fix that soon. There’s a whole sky up there waiting for you."

As the evening progresses you laugh together over shared anecdotes and discover common interests. The connection feels real, unforced, and for a moment, the outside world with all its complications seems to fade away.

The evening had been progressing beautifully with laughter and shared stories flowing as freely as the champagne. You were beginning to see a side of Jake that was earnest and deeply attentive. A stark contrast to the playful banter at the bar. It was easy to forget the outside world in moments like this.

However, just as you're settling into a comfortable ease the first ripple of discomfort appears. A waitress approaches your table with a familiarity that instantly feels intrusive. She's all smiles, especially towards Jake.

"Jake, I didn't know you were here tonight!" she exclaims. Her voice a notch too loud for the intimate setting. She's overly friendly, touching his shoulder briefly as she speaks. Her eyes never leaving his acting as if you weren’t even there.

Jake's response is measured. His smile polite but restrained. "Hey, Sarah. Good to see you," he says, his tone neutral. He quickly turns his attention back to you trying to minimize the interaction. "Sarah used to work with me on base," he explains briefly hoping to dispel any rising concerns you might have.

You nod trying to smile, but the unease settles in your stomach like a stone. The moment is fleeting yet it lingers uncomfortably as Sarah finally moves away, her eyes lingering on Jake a moment too long.

Before the atmosphere can fully recover another beautiful woman approaches your table. This time, it's someone who's dining at the restaurant. Her approach deliberate as she locks eyes with Jake. Her presence is poised when she speaks. Her voice is tinged with a nostalgia that makes you shift in your seat.

"Jake, it's been too long," she says, reminiscing about a shared memory that clearly meant something to both of them. "Remember that weekend at the lake?"

Jake nods. His expression tightening slightly. "Yeah, that was a good time. Hope you're doing well, Rachel," he responds keeping his reply short and devoid of any warmth that could be misinterpreted. He glances at you with a flicker of concern crossing his features as he sees your discomfort.

"I'm sorry about this," he murmurs to you under his breath. His hand finding yours on the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let’s focus on our night."

Despite his attempts to steer the evening back on course the interruptions have sown seeds of doubt. You appreciate Jake's efforts to reassure you, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes—he genuinely wants the night to be about the two of you. Yet, the encounters with his past make it increasingly difficult to ignore the reputation that preceded him. You find yourself wrestling with the warmth of his present attention and the shadow of his history.

As Jake continues to engage you in conversation, attempting to salvage the remaining warmth of the evening, you're left to ponder whether the burgeoning trust between you can withstand the challenges of his complicated past.

The mood at the table shifts palpably following the interruptions. Jake, noting your discomfort, adopts a more subdued tone. His usual easygoing demeanor tempered by the situation. “I can tell this isn’t easy for you, and I’m really sorry about that,” he says, his voice earnest, his gaze meeting yours with a steady sincerity. “I’ve had my fair share of casual things in the past. That’s not something I can undo, nor would I expect you to just overlook it.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing. Clearly choosing his words with care. “But I want you to know ever since you started at the bar, something was different. I haven’t felt this kind of way about anyone else in a long time. If ever. Honestly, I haven't pursued anyone else since you came around. You’ve sort of... monopolized my interest.”

His admission is frank, devoid of any veneer. It's just him being open and hopeful, sitting across from you. “I hate that my history might be making this awkward. I really like you, Y/N. I’m here tonight because I want to be here with you. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you who I am at this moment in my life.”

The words linger between you straightforward and clear. It’s a lot to take in. His past is a part of him but the man before you now seems earnest, seeking something genuine with you.

You pause letting the weight of his words sink in. His hand reaches across the table, not to impose but to offer a gesture of connection. In response you extend your own hand, sliding your fingers between his, locking them together as a silent acknowledgment of your willingness to see where this path might lead.

“Thank you for being upfront with me,” you respond. Your voice calm and thoughtful. “I appreciate your honesty. Let’s just see what happens, no pressure.”

Jake’s face softens, a gentle smile forming as he senses the tension easing. “No pressure. Sounds perfect,” he agrees with hope in his voice matched by the warmth in his eyes.

As the evening ends with the complexity of real-life weaving through your initial impressions you find yourself intrigued by the possibility of discovering more about Jake, beyond this first, eventful meeting. The evening with all its ups and downs, winds down as the restaurant begins to empty. You and Jake exit into the cool night air. The city lights casting a soft glow on the street. The tension that had built up inside seems to dissipate slightly with the openness around you.

As you walk together Jake's demeanor is reflective and he keeps a respectful distance that speaks to his understanding of the evening's emotional rollercoaster. Yet, his presence is reassuring, a quiet strength in the uncertain night.

"You know," Jake starts, breaking the silence as you both stroll towards a quieter part of the street, "tonight didn't go exactly as I planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you. To show you that I'm not the guy people might say I am."

You glance at him noticing the earnest furrow in his brow. His next words come slowly, measured but clear. "But maybe it's good that it happened this way. You saw everything—the good and the not-so-good. I don't want to hide anything from you."

You stop walking instead looking at him directly. His green eyes are sincere, reflecting the streetlight's soft luminescence. It's in this moment with his gaze unwavering and his stance open that you feel a shift inside you. The doubts linger but there's something about his honesty tonight that tugs at your willingness to explore what might be between you.

"I need things to go slow, Jake. Really slow," you say. Your voice firm yet not without warmth. "Can you do that? Can we take this one moment at a time?"

Jake's response is immediate. His nod accompanied by a gentle smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You're worth waiting for and I’m not going anywhere. I want to prove to you that I’m in this, really in this, for you."

There's a promise in his words, not just spoken but felt. You both resume walking and as you do, his hand finds yours, a simple touch but filled with intent. You interlace your fingers with his as a silent agreement to his proposal of taking things slow allowing yourself to feel the potential of what could be a new beginning.

As you walk further the city noise fades into the background, and a comfortable silence settles between you. It's not the fairy tale whirlwind. It’s real, it’s tentative, and it’s new. But it's a start. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a cautious optimism about the path ahead. The night ends not with grand gestures but with a quiet acknowledgment of something that might grow given time and mutual effort.

In the weeks following your first date your relationship with Jake blossomed beautifully against the backdrop of everyday life. Each shared moment from spontaneous coffee dates that extended into long or unplanned conversations to leisurely evening walks under a starlit sky, deepened your connection. The ease of laughter and the depth of discussions revealed layers of each other’s personalities and dreams, drawing you closer in ways both profound and delightful.

As the days turned into weeks, your phone became a constant companion, buzzing with Jake's texts that often stretched into late-night calls. These weren't just brief exchanges; they were rich, lengthy conversations where you found yourselves diving into everything from your favorite books to your deepest fears and aspirations. Jake remembered the little things you mentioned—like your love for mint chocolate chip ice cream or your dreams of visiting Greece—and surprised you with thoughtful gestures that showed just how much he cared. It wasn’t just what he said but how he listened and responded that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.

With each passing day, the shadows cast by Jake's past seemed to fade, overshadowed by the genuine warmth and steadfastness he brought into your life. His consistent effort and the undeniable sincerity in his actions slowly dismantled the walls you had built around your heart instead allowing trust to seep in and fill the spaces between your doubts.

So, by the time you found yourselves laughing together on his couch, enveloped in the comfort of a lazy Sunday afternoon the words that had been quietly taking shape in your heart felt ready to surface. The day unfolded effortlessly, each moment layered with shared smiles and unspoken promises, steering you gently toward a revelation that seemed both thrilling and inevitable. This wasn’t just another pleasant day. It was poised to become a defining moment in your relationship where feelings long simmered might finally find their voice.

The afternoon sun casts a warm, golden light through the windows of Jake’s living room, bathing the cozy space in a tranquil glow. You’re both nestled comfortably on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs with a lighthearted romantic comedy playing in the background. It serves more as a backdrop to your own laughter-filled conversation than as entertainment.

Jake is in the middle of recounting yet another of his infamous escapades at the base. This time involving an unintentionally hilarious mix-up during a training exercise. His storytelling is animated, his hands gesturing wildly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy.

"And then, I accidentally broadcasted the prank over the PA system, not just to the squad, but the whole base!" he exclaims, bursting into laughter at the memory.

You can't help but laugh along his delight was terribly infectious, his joy utterly palpable. "Jake, you're unbelievable. You always find a way to make everything so fun," you say. Your voice tinged with affection and amusement. The warmth of the moment, the closeness you felt with him, it all feels so natural. So right.

As the laughter subside you look at him with a big grin on your face. And without thinking much more the words on the tip of your tongue just slip out, "You crack me up, Jake, I love you so much." The moment the words escape your heart skips a beat as you realize what you’ve said, your eyes widening in surprise.

Jake's laughter stops abruptly. His expression shifting as he processes your words. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with significance, before his face breaks into a tender, wide smile. He looks at you. His eyes were shining with a mixture of happiness and something deeper, more earnest. "Wait, say that again," he says. His voice low and husky, filled with emotion.

Feeling a rush of courage by his encouraging gaze you repeat your words, "I love you, Jake." It feels even more right the second time. The words resonating between you, filling the space with their profound simplicity.

Jake's response is immediate. He leans in, closing the distance between you with his hand cupping your face gently. "I love you, too. I’ve been hoping to hear that. Was wondering when it would be right to tell you how I feel," he confesses. His thumb softly stroking your cheek. "I’ve been holding onto these words, afraid to say them too soon, but feeling them every day."

"Really?" you whisper. Touched by his sincerity and the depth of his feelings.

"Absolutely," Jake replies with his gaze locked on yours, intense and full of affection. "From the way you laugh to how passionate you are about your studies, from your kindness to others to your strength in handling everything life throws at you. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

He draws you closer and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace, his warmth enveloping you. "I wanted to tell you on our third date," he admits. His voice muffled as he speaks into your hair, "but I thought it might scare you off. Now, I just want to make up for lost time." He chuckled squeezing you tighter.

The room feels charged with a new energy. A new understanding as you both bask in the glow of shared love. The movie continues to play, unnoticed now, as you and Jake talk and laugh. The conversation meandering through dreams, hopes, and plans for the future. Each word strengthens your ever-growing relationship. Each moment deepens the love that now openly defines the two of you.

And as the sun sets, casting long shadows through the room, you feel a profound sense of contentment. This isn’t just a fleeting romance. It’s the beginning of something lasting, grounded in mutual respect and deep affection. You lean against him with your head on his shoulder, heart full, as you both enjoy the quiet comfort of knowing you're exactly where you're meant to be.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[pillow-anime-talk]

Good evening I’d like Poseidon RoR and a fem reader. With a fem reader asking prompt 53 to Hades RoR.

# tags: scenario; current married relationship and kinda fwb; romance; pwp; goddess!reader; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, size kink, threesome (m/f/m), double fuck, overstimulation, praising, boobs play

includes: female reader ft. poseidon & hades {ror}

author’s note: last but not least! thank you very much :)

53. “Wanna join?”

Your body moved fluidly while shiny eyes adoringly gazing at the man opposite you; both hands gripping tightly onto his muscular shoulders. Poseidon’s hands were placed on your firm butt cheeks, and your pussy was loudly hitting his wet cock every time you bounced on him.

Your huge bedroom was heavily steamed by your breaths, and the only sound spreading around the room was your long moan and the gasps of your husband, the god of the seas, oceans and all bodies of water adored by the Greeks. Lost in the blue of his eyes, you couldn’t stop another loud sigh that escaped from between your lips swollen from kissing. The eternally cold and gloomy Poseidon seemed to be more alive next to you; hence a slight smile appeared on his face as soon as his gaze was caught by your breasts and a drop of sweat running down your sternum.

“You should become a goddess of debauchery.” He whispered directly into your ear, tightening his fingers on your skin, and you only giggled, changing the pace of your movements to a much slower one. “Such a good whore.”

“You like it, don’t you, Poseidon, my love?” You replied with a slight madness in your eye, to which your husband only snorted with laughter. A quick moment later, you felt your body rise and drift in the air, and then your back touched the sheets on the bed. Before you could catch your breath, the lord of water began to fuck you like there was no tomorrow. Your mouth screamed the man’s name faster before your brain thought about it, and you automatically tightened your hands on your husband’s skin. You felt the orgasm approaching and taking over your body. However, before you gave yourself over to the carnal pleasure, your head fell to the right side towards the door. It was on their threshold that through your hazy vision you noticed a tall figure with a male silhouette.

Poseidon certainly sensed the presence of the intruder, but his zero shame allowed him to continue fucking your sore pussy and nibbling on your left, next right, nipple. After releasing another moan from between his lips, the figure began to take on sharper shapes. After a few longer seconds, you realized that the figure standing in the entrance to the bedroom was Poseidon’s older brother – king Hades. He was dressed in his typical black outfit, silver jewelry with the addition of obsidian, and his hairstyle was impeccably done. Before you spoke, Hades rolled his eyes. “Your behavior are about to cause a flood in Halheim.” He said disconsolately, although you both knew that the sight that greeted him was not at all unattractive or annoying. Leaving aside the issues of his brother over your body, your tired figure, predatory look and saliva leaking from the corner of your mouth were one of the most beautiful views Hades had seen in a long time, leaving the world of the dead. You couldn’t pass him by indifferently, knowing how lonely your brother-in-law was; he rarely visited his younger brothers or other Greek gods, he was rather focused on himself and his duties.

“... Wanna join?” You asked in a confident tone, knowing perfectly well that your husband wouldn’t refuse you anything. You could ask him for a star from the sky, and he would get you three of them, knowing perfectly well that they would beautifully decorate your cleavage and ears. You could say that you don’t like kale, and he would get rid of it in the entire kingdom, apologizing to you for this oversight. You could also invite his brother to your bedroom, and he would eagerly await how Hades would take care of your pretty plump mouth and sweet clit.

There was no need to wait long for an answer to your question; on the way to the huge marital bed, Hades got rid of his coat, pants, shoes and shirt. His cock seemed to be the hardest thing in the world, and when your body was thrown again, you could swear that you would cum on your husband’s stomach. This time you were riding Poseidon, and Hades stopped behind your back. While your partner was playing with your nipples one more time, the older man kissed your left shoulder. You felt his dick touch your back, and his hair tickled your skin and forehead.

“You’re quite brave, Y/N.” He said quietly, and you shivered at the sound of his voice and breath on your body. You felt his gaze surround you with an invisible aura.

“After all, I am the wife of Poseidon, the king of every ocean.” You answered, looking down at the aforementioned.

“From today on, also the lover of the lord of death and the dead.” Hades corrected you, simultaneously entering your other, tight hole from behind. The size filling you made you cry out, tightly gripping your husband’s waist. You had never felt such overwhelming energy on your own and in your body. “You are an amazing goddess of sky, Y/N.”

“… She knows about it, Hades... You better fuck her good, brother. I don’t want my queen to be dissatisfied.” Your conversation was interrupted by the blond god, who was measuring his siblings with a cold gaze.

“Don’t worry about that, Poseidon. She will certainly be very pleased.” He bit your earlobe, causing your whole body to tremble.

[winwintea]

how dreamies would react to your first kiss

PAIRING ▸ bestfriend/friend!dreamies x reader 

TAGS ▸ none, enjoy the fluff <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ requested by anon! reader + dreamies aren't in established relationship yet.

Mark Lee

Mark’s first kiss with you happens by accident. You were both hanging out in his place together, playing video games. Exhausted, you decided to rest your head on his shoulder, creating very little distance between your faces. So Mark gave into his internal instincts, placing his lips directly on yours, startling both you and himself, “Oh, I’m so sorry that is totally my fault… umm…” He quickly pulls away, embarrassed, but instead of being mad, you stare at him dead serious, “Mark Lee. Shut up and do that again.” His eyes widen at your words, but his face slowly relaxes into a bright smile. He gladly complies with your request, more than once.

Huang Renjun

Renjun had invited you out to his favorite cafe. You two were having such a fun time, before Renjun noticed a couple of crumbs near your lips. He inched a bit closer, squinted, and used his fingers to swipe them off. It was now or never. With your faces so close together, you had to take this chance. Taking a deep breath, you grab his face and lean in for the kiss. Renjun was expecting this however, and he reacted to the kiss immediately closing his eyes. When you finally pulled apart he stared at you breathlessly, “Did I tell you, that you’re beautiful?” His soft hands reach up to gently cup your cheek with the sweetest smile you had ever seen. God how you loved his smiles.

Lee Jeno

Jeno found himself in a quite embarrassing and stressful situation. He had taken you to the carnival, since none of your other friends wanted to go. In the blink of an eye you found yourselves on the ferris wheel. You sat together, no words being said, but the discomfort on his face was obvious. You grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it. Jeno looked down at you from the corners of his eyes, he smiled. "Are you nervous?" You asked him. Jeno nodded, feeling the embarrassment rushing to his cheeks. You pulled him in close, “Just focus on me, instead.” You both leaned in for the kiss, drunk on the smell of one another. When you two finally pulled apart, Jeno looked into your eyes sparkling. If this was what heaven felt like, he would be perfectly content to remain here forever.

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan was shocked. Not only had you repeatedly denied his affections for the past year, but you had also managed to evade his playful kisses as well. Then you did it yourself. It came at him out of nowhere, and he had little time to react. “You kissed me.” He paused, then repeated again, “You kissed me?” He stared at you in disbelief. You only grinned in response, giggling at his confusion. “Does this mean…?” Haechan looked at you nervously, but then his face eased after he saw your smile. He pointed to his lips, puckering them up, and leaning in once more, eyeing you with puppy dog eyes, “Again?” (his kiss was once again rejected.)

Na Jaemin

Jaemin had been waiting patiently for you to make a move on him. You two had been spending more time together than usual, and he hoped that the feeling was mutual, but didn’t want to make any assumptions. Then one day, Jaemin watched as you plopped yourself in front of him, stood up on your tippy-toes, and placed a quick and soft cheek on his lips. He returned the kiss, but not before wrapping his hands around your waist, and picking you up in a swift motion. You found yourself making a fuss and squirming around in his arms, but Jaemin ignored all your protests, placing butterfly kisses on your face, until his lips met yours in another, this time, soft and meaningful kiss.  

Zhong Chenle

Chenle and you always bickered. You hated how arrogant he was at times. As much as you sometimes hated his guts, you couldn’t help but begin to start seeing the crazy tension you two had when arguing. Sometimes you just wanted to silence that loud mouth of his. That handsome, sometimes endearing, sometimes cocky grin. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. “If you hadn’t- mmh…?” You grabbed Chenle’s collar pulling him in quickly, and pressed your lips over his, silencing his protests. His eyes lit up in surprise, but you could feel his lips slowly turn into a smirk, as he kissed you back. “Took you long enough.” 

Park Jisung

Jisung was comforting you, as you vented out all your frustrations to him, right in the middle of his living room floor. Jisung wasn’t sure why, but for some reason you always came to him when you wanted to vent. He was always bad with expressing things with his words, so you often found yourself buried into his arms, embraced in warm tight hugs. Today, Jisung was feeling a bit more bold. Bolder than usual. He placed his hand on your cheek and suddenly leaned in for a kiss. You felt your shoulders relax, and the tension you had from earlier started to release. He leaned in, pressing your head against his shoulders whispering in your ears, “I will always remain by your side. I will be here for eternity, just for you.” And somehow, through his love for you, he found the right words to say.