#yet again my problem persists | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungkw1 · 2 months ago

Text

ring my bell — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection.

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him.

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything.

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before.

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business.

Easier said than done.

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him - wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced.

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great.

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time.

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan.

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans.

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room.

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough.

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time.

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass.

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep.

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops.

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible.

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard.

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet.

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you.

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high.

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths.

So much for running into him tomorrow.

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever.

You just pray to god he didn't hear you.

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day.

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you.

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button.

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down.

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it.

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating.

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually.

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet.

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you.

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens.

“Can I help you with that?”

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling.

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault.

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again.

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you.

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt.

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again.

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you.

But your gut is telling you otherwise.

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands.

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead.

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum.

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up.

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down.

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times.

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger.

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower.

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside.

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor.

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so. “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body.

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone.

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall.

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway.

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge.

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body.

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door.

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry.

Well, only one way to find out.

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants.

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake.

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat.

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache.

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in.

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him.

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk.

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say.

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…”

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze.

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…”

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room.

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today.

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused.

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it.

He lets out a deep sigh.

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point.

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face.

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths.

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question.

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his.

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips.

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you.

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you.

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours.

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly.

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him.

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster.

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this.

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly.

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size.

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears.

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath.

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin.

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well.

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.”

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen.

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail.

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt.

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face.

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks.

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel.

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover.

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-”

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound.

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it.

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet.

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently.

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper.

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him.

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile.

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin.

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm.

“Would you want to do this again?”

“Like, right now?” you reply.

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again.

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more.

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously.

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection.

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt.

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks.

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you.

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you - slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight.

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle.

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider.

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands.

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again.

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back.

“Do you want it to be?” you ask.

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods.

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you.

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

869 notes · View notes

miumura · 17 days ago

Text

THE LOOK IN HIS EYES ─── P.SUNGHOON

( 엔하이픈 성훈 ) ﹕ sunghoon is assigned with the task to accompany you at a party — however, one slight problem, you’re barely enjoying your time around him. so, as his job, he feels the need to fix that.

──── sunghoon x f ! r . . . ⌕ body guard au & fluff ∿ 2K+ ( 2033 WC ) ╱ HAPPY SUNGHOON DAY !! should have released a christmassy fic but this picture of him still lingers in my mind so i had to write something based of it … 🫣

Parties? You loved them.

Something about the bustling environment was enough to get your adrenaline running. It was a time where you’d be free from your duties given by your parents, simply spending the night away doing what you wanted.

So, there was obviously no way you could turn down an event, especially the huge one everyone was talking about recently.

However, the only problem? You had to be accompanied by your bodyguard, Park Sunghoon, for the entirety of tonight.

“I feel so restrained with you being here,” you huffed as you sank in the chair, staring at the crowd seemingly having the best time of their lives. You were stuck here, sitting next to him out of all people. Now, if you had expected him accompanying you alongside the party, you would have worked harder to tell your parents no.

Who would’ve expected he’d be here, looking blankly with that cold expression of his, instead of just waiting in the car?

“Why do you feel that way, Miss Y/N?” Sunghoon asks with the most monotonous voice ever, enough to make you simply want to grit your teeth. The fact he was asking such an obvious question—someone who was as persistent as him—would’ve already known the answer to that. It’s as if your parents programmed him to say anything, even if it was completely obvious or nonsense.

“I wonder why I would be acting like this around you,” you scoffed while fixing your posture to take one good look at him again. Resting your arms on the table, you shifted your body closer to his side. “You’re the cause of this, Mister.”

“Mister?” Sunghoon slowly turned, his eyes narrowing slighter as he placed his forearm on the table. His eyes interlocked with yours as he inched closer to you. “Then who would be able to watch over you to make sure you’re okay?”

His cold yet serious glance pierced through you. With this close proximity being so sudden, the words you wanted to say to let out some steam disappeared.

“I can’t really disobey your parents’ orders, can I?” he continued, raising a brow while keeping his eyes firmly on yours. “And I told you already, didn’t I? Let’s drop those silly formalities.”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively leaned back, your back meeting the chair a little too quickly. Flustered, you cleared your throat, crossing your arms as if to create some distance.

“I suppose,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “But still, it’s uncomfortable for me. I can’t do anything without you watching me like a hawk.”

“Isn’t that my job as a bodyguard?”

“You’re rather extreme for a bodyguard, don’t you think?” you shot back at him.

“And how is that?”

“I can’t even do anything without having to be constantly wary of messing up something. I can’t even enjoy a party with you being here. Parties are supposed to be fun, and I can’t even drink comfortably or dance!”

“Why can’t you do that?”

“I just told you—because of you!” The frustration in your voice rose unexpectedly, catching even yourself off guard. Sunghoon blinked at your tone, momentarily taken aback, though his expression remained unreadable. You turned away, refusing to meet his gaze, your arms tightening around yourself.

“Then let’s go,” he said suddenly, pushing back his chair as he stood. He adjusted his blazer with practiced ease, his movements sharp and composed. Your eyes darted back to him, caught extremely off guard.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Drinking and dancing… that’s what you want to do, right?” His eyes met yours with a strange vibe of determination. “Then let’s do it.”

“You’re kidding,” you muttered, still processing his words.

“I’m not,” Sunghoon said simply. “You want to enjoy the party, so let’s make it happen.”

“Why would I do it with you?” You said with shock as your arms fell onto your lap.

“Aren’t I the one responsible for making you feel that way?” He tilted his head. “I should work on not letting you feel that way again.”

His words left you stunned, your lips parting as you hesitated to respond. It felt strange—unnatural even—to hear something like that from him. It wasn’t like Sunghoon to say something so... considerate.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, Sunghoon let out a quiet “ah,” as if realizing something. “Because of your parents,” he added, his tone more neutral now. “I need to look out for you.”

Right. Your parents. The mention of them brought you back to reality. Pressing your lips together, you swallowed the words threatening to spill out. Instead, you rose from your seat, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze head-on now that you were standing at his level. “I hope you’ll be able to watch over me well, Sunghoon.”

Without waiting for his reply, you turned on your heel and headed toward the drink bar. Sunghoon stood frozen for a moment, his hand twitching as if to reach out and grab your arm. But before he could act, you were already walking away. Slowly, he lowered his hand, shoving it into his pocket with a frustrated sigh.

Still, his instincts kicked in. Watching you move further away, he quickly followed, keeping you in his sight. After all, it was his job to make sure you were safe.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Sunghoon questioned as he still saw you standing close by the bar.

“Don’t feel like it,” you say, swirling the drink in your hand. You’ve been slowly sipping that drink of yours, eyes lingering at the dancing crowd.

“Is it because of me?”

“No, really, it’s just… there’s too many people and the music playing isn’t my style,” you try to shrug it off as you continue to watch them dance as if they had no care in the world.

But, your actions speak more than your words, and Sunghoon could see right through you. He moved to stand right in front of you, his expression unreadable again—the classic Park Sunghoon type.

“Let’s get you dancing.”

“What?” you blinked at him, feeling quite startled by his request.

The music shifted then, as if on cue. The energetic beats faded into something softer, slower, and much more intimate. Sunghoon didn’t budge, still standing right in front of you as couples began pairing up around the room.

“Didn’t you want to have a good time?” He asked, wondering why you were frozen in place. “We can go on the dance floor for that.”

Sure, you did want to enjoy the night, but not like this. Not with the timing so terribly ironic, leaving the two of you standing there awkwardly as others around you started pairing off for… couple dancing.

Sunghoon peeked over to look at you, watching you as you seem to purposefully ignore his presence. He eyed the crowd, watching the pairs dance hand in hand, their laughter traveling around the room as they moved carefree.

“Y/N,” you turned to his voice, your eyes soon looking down at his hand extended to yours. Quickly, you raise your hands in protest.

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you with that. You see—”

“What? The music is not your style again?” He cut you off, his tone sharp but not unkind. His hand was still extended out for you. “Or do you really feel that uncomfortable around me?”

“It’s not that,” you stammered. “It’s just, you know, I… I can just wait for the next song!”

“If you keep waiting, then when will you be able to have the night you want?” He asked, leaving you struck by his words.

“Well…” you trailed off, getting Sunghoon’s close attention. He leaned in slightly with his eyes flickering to the movement of your lips, trying to predict what you were going to say.

“Well?” he said rather impatiently, although he didn’t want to come across that way. He just wanted to know your answer.

“It’s just a dance, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, your gaze drifting down to his outstretched hand. Slowly, hesitantly, you placed your hand in his. Sunghoon’s fingers curled upward to hold yours securely, his touch firm yet careful.

When you looked up at him, your breath caught. His usual stoic expression had softened, his eyes meeting yours with a feeling that made this moment more heavy than it should’ve been.

“Just a dance,” he murmured, his voice steady, as if he was reminding him of what this was supposed to be.

With that, you two danced together, moving at the same pace as the other couples. Sunghoon's hand rested steadily on your back, while his gaze—strong and unwavering—remained locked on you. What could have been an incredibly awkward situation felt unexpectedly… comfortable. You surprised yourself by matching his steps with ease, his presence oddly reassuring.

“Bodyguards can learn how to dance now?” You joked, attempting to break at the nonexistent silent barrier. Instead of one of his serious, programmed answers, you noticed a fond smile creep up on his face.

“Can’t one be obligated to do something they want, just like how you wanted to get up and enjoy this party?” he replied smoothly, his smile widening enough to reveal the faint glint of his canines.

The serious, cold Park Sunghoon… smiling. At you.

Your eyes found it habitually trailing elsewhere, which was more difficult given his figure blocking you from looking at anything but him. Still, you tried to find a way, which was looking at his side, you hoping not to glance back at his features. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the sudden urge to forget that smile.

Sunghoon noticed. Of course, he noticed—when didn’t he notice you? He noticed the way your eyes lit up with excitement when you’d first received the party invitation. He noticed the subtle furrow of your brows earlier when something about the party seemed to bother you. And now, he noticed the way your gaze wavered, a clear tell of your flustered state as the two of you danced hand in hand.

Your little moment of distraction didn’t go unnoticed by your feet either, as a sudden misstep caused your ankle to twist awkwardly. A gasp escaped your lips, but before you could fully lose your balance, Sunghoon’s reflexes kicked in.

His hand gripped your waist firmly as he pulled you closer, steadying you. His other hand shifted slightly to ensure your grip was secure, to make sure you didn’t stumble again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shrugged off, dropping your hand away from his arm as you stood on your own.

“You should’ve been more careful,” Sunghoon said, his grip slowly loosening but not entirely off your waist. “Can’t have you ruining your night.”

There was that stupid smile of his again–his canines appearing once more faintly as his smile grew wider. Strangely enough, you found yourself smiling too, finding it hard to suppress it.

“You’re smiling again,” you muttered, your eyes still lingering on his face. Sunghoon hummed as his hand continued to stay on your waist, his expression softening even more. It was as if you were opening another side of him, simply just by looking into his eyes.

“Does it bother you?”

Maybe it did, but you just couldn’t tell somebody that. That would be rude to… not let a smile like that appear on someone’s face. Instead of responding, you shook your head, maintaining the eye contact you tried so hard to avoid before.

“Then that’s good,” he said, his voice easily cutting through the music playing in the background. “Because I think I might be smiling a lot tonight.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his words while also feeling an unexpected warmth spread across your face. You nodded, finding yourself holding onto his arm again. His sincerity was too hard to miss, and his presence was slowly becoming less suffocating.

Without thinking too much of it, you steady yourself to continue swaying in the rhythm with him. After all, you did want to enjoy your night, and Sunghoon was there to accompany you as it’s seemingly his job.

He is your bodyguard, after all.

‘💬’ — not even a xmas fic but december by ariana grande was pretty much on loop while writing this …

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

529 notes · View notes

misshugs · 9 months ago

Text

₂The Cameragirl² || snc

After an eventful night in the haunted asylum, you and the guys began looking at the footage, only for you to start making cocky remarks that might've set a spark you weren't expecting.

contains: just fluff and reader trying to be funny (but failing miserably), cheeky comments from reader, cursing, slight flirting? idk i suck at it

a/n: "part 2" of The Cameragirl, no need to read the first part though! but for context: you got choked by a ghost and you almost died but colby saved you by giving you mouth to mouth

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

word count: 2.3k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You don't exactly remember when you fell asleep, you're just sure that right after you fell on your bed you were knocked out.

It wasn't something that happened often, but boy you were tired due to last nights events. Beause of that and because of your commonly terrible sleeping habits, Sam and Colby didn't even want to bother you much.

They did however check on you after they woke up hours later, making sure you were still breathing. The experience has somewhat made them paranoid about what could happen to you.

Although they cleansed you before returning, they'd much prefer to be one hundred percent sure you were alright.

The problem was, you were a light sleeper. After they finished checking up on you, your eyes opened up slightly. Groaning a bit from the ache in your body from the fall you had a couple of hours prior. You stretched yourself nonetheless.

Yawning, you sat down and rubbed your eyes. Taking your phone from your nightstand, you looked at the hour. 01:17 PM. Sighing softly, you stood up and fixed yourself up before walking out of the room.

Looking around, you heard mumbling from the other room. It was the office. You walked inside and saw them both looking back at the footage.

You furrowed your brows. Usually, you were a part of this process. Why did they begin without you?

Since they haven't noticed you yet, you started walking closer without making any sounds. As quiet as you possibly could, you basically stood behind them, watching the footage.

"What're you doing?" You asked, gaining a scream from Sam and a jump from Colby, almost falling off the chair. A smile grew wide on your face after that reaction.

"Fuck! You scared me!" Sam exclaimed, putting his hand on his chest.

"Oh my god, my heart." Colby said, hiding his face in his hands.

"That's for beginning without me." You said, crossing your arms on your chest.

"You were sleeping so soundly after all that happened, we didn't want to disturb you. And... we were curious... sorry." Colby admitted. You sighed.

"It's alright, I guess. What's this part?"

"We just started watching the part where... it happened." Sam said, looking at you.

"Ooh, okay. Then go back, my head's a little fuzzy, I can't remember clearly what happened, I want to know." As you said that, they nodded and ran back the video.

You didn't miss much anyways. They rewined right when they began arguing about it not being a good idea and whatnot. They haven't seen the whole night or anything, they just skipped right to the end.

After the arguing and the preparation for everyone to go into their respective corridors, the challenge began.

They paused the video. "Even though it made sense, it was still strange for you to be so persistent about it, was it not?" Colby said, looking at you. "Also, can you please sit down? There's a chair right there. You're stressing me out."

"No." You quickly answered.

"Why?" He asked.

"I don't want to, it's my fight or flight mode. It's easier to run while standing up." You giggled softly, which gave them both a sense of peace that you couldn't even imagine.

You were their everything, and thinking that their everything could've ended up like that made them so overprotective that they would've absolutely slept with you that night... to keep you protected, of course.

"Also, my legs feel numb, I don't want to cut the circulation again, it felt weird last time." You admitted.

Sam quickly stood up, concerned. "Are you okay? Do you need an oxygen mask again or something?? Water?"

"Wha- no. Calm down. Jeez." You said, grabbing his shoulder and making him sit back down. "Anyways, about the video. Um... I do remember having this urge to do it. I don't think it might've been anything bad, but I did have this... feeling, I guess."

"Maybe it wasn't you?" Colby said, raising a brow. "Maybe something was making you feel that way, just so that you were left alone... like it happened." You thought about it.

"I... guess it's an option." You shrugged.

"It could've also been a possession. It is said that people tend to quickly switch emotions when one is possessed." Sam continued. "Or... it could've also been the fact that you were so indifferent about it all."

"I'm just used to it, it's not like I don't believe."

"Yeah, but since we were making our reactions so... extra in comparison, maybe the spirits were trying to target you?" Colby added.

"...yeah, it does add up. Well, continue. Let's see what truly happened. I genuinely can't remember." They nodded and the video rewined.

As you began walking through the corridor, you began to speak on the video, it was almost automatic when you heard your voice that you started whining. "Oh, fuck no. Nevermind. This is so cringe. I remember this."

They started laughing and kept on watching although you pleaded for them to skip it. You tried to stop it yourself but Sam quickly held you back, hugging you and your arms, unable to move.

You didn't have the strength at the moment to try and get out of his grasp, but you tried anyways.

Not like it mattered. Not like you minded, actually. In the way he was holding you back, he basically let you sit on his lap while watching.

You didn't mind at all.

"You guys know I suck at youtube, I was trying to be funny, it didn't work." You laughed a little bit while your voice also seemed on the edge of breaking, mainly fake crying.

"What do you mean? You did great." Colby said, hiding his smile underneath his hand. Listening to your cute attempts on making jokes. It melted him.

"I can see you trying not to laugh, Colby." You fake cried again.

"Whaaat? I would never." He said. Sam didn't hide anything. His smile only giving away how much he was actually enjoying this version of you. If only you were open enough for them to be able to record and replay more of this.

A couple of minutes into the video, you started panting, heavy breathing could be heard. It was when you began to explain that you could barely breathe. "It feels... hard to breathe." You said in the video, your lips visibly shaking.

As you began walking faster, you could see through the video that you stopped on you tracks. Blinking your eyes as you looked at, what you remembered to be, a figure.

You tried to breathe.

"Holy shit. Holy shit! Did you see that?" Sam said, letting you go and pausing the video and quickly going back a couple of seconds. You stood up from his lap to let him search quickly.

"What?" Colby asked. Confused, you got closer. He started playing the video once again, this time, slower. You could see the light on your neck moving.

"Holy fuck. Look at that. It looks as if something is like, pushing on your neck. Like pressing onto as if you're getting choked." Sam explains, pointing at the marks on your neck where there seemed to be a dent suddenly forming.

"Oh my god." You said as you touched your neck, remembering what happened barely a couple of hours ago. Colby had his mouth wide open after watching that.

"That's... that's poltergeist activity right there. It's undeniable." He said, looking at the both of you. You nodded, shocked at how much power this entity seemed to have. "We need to get you properly cleansed, we can't be having another demon up someone's ass." He contined, looking directly at Sam, who seemed offended. You chuckled.

As they continued the video, they heard the soft 'help' that you could barely spit out, your voice breaking in the midst of it. The quick movement of the camera as you turned around only to be thrown to the floor. Seconds later, watching as you tried to crawl back but your body seemingly giving up as quickly as you tried to do so.

It broke their hearts, even more so knowing you tried to scream for help. And so, the camera kept rolling for what felt like an eternity.

"How long did it took for you guys to come look for me?" You asked, seeing as the video kept going.

"So far, it's been five minutes..." Sam said softly, painfully watching the screen.

"Oh my god, I was dead for five minutes?"

"Don't say it like that." Colby looked at you, almost sad. Fear went through his body at the thought of not have gotten there on time.

"It is true though... oh, there are my heroes." They smiled softly as you said that. As you heard the conversation they had while you were unconscious, you scoffed. "You guys thought it was a joke?"

"Hey, listen. We've had our jokes and giggles with extreme pranks before, it could've been a possibility." Colby put his hands up in defense, looking at you truthfully. "Honestly, I was wishing it was."

"Sam. Call 911. This is real." Colby said on the video. Before you could completely understand what was going on, you saw him kissing you.

Well, saving your life, but touching lips nonetheless.

Your cheeks started switching colors. You obviously don't remember much, but your brain didn't thought about the fact he had to give you some oxygen back.

Your fingers touched your lips softly as you were watching. They seemed to be immerse on watching what happened, thankfully. You don't think you could handle their stares right now.

Trying to calm yourself down, you saw yourself waking up. No further from that, you saw as Sam helped you up for a split second before the camera was turned off.

"And that's the footage alright. Wow." Colby sighed and looked at Sam, and then at you.

"That was... something. I can't believe we caught that on camera... it's proof, yeah, but... you were seriously hurt." Sam says, looking at you. "Are you... okay with this?" He asked, you looked at him, confused.

"What? You mean for posting it? Oh yeah, I don't mind. Don't worry about it. I'm safe and sound anyways." You said, smiling as you put your hands on your hips.

"Just making sure you're okay with it." He said and you nodded, understanding his kind gesture.

"So..." You began, gaining the attention of them both. "Are you gonna keep the part where Colby kisses m- uh, gives me mouth to mouth?" You quickly correct yourself, trying to act cool. Not leaving your stare from the screen.

"What?" They smirked at your sneaky comment.

Fuck.

"What?" You asked back looking at Sam, seemingly ignoring their cocky smile as much as you could.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"If you're gonna keep the mouth to mouth on the video."

"Not that, when you stuttered." Colby obliged, making you nervous.

"...I said Colby?" You raised an eyebrow, looking confused although you perfectly knew what they were talking about. They shook their head.

"You know what we mean." Sam says, reclining back on his chair, getting comfortable as he looks at you, amused by the situation. Mimicking Sam's actions; Colby lied back, a hand underneath his chin, smirking back at you.

Like Gods. They looked like Gods.

It was driving you insane.

You sighed, "I'm just saying. A bit upset that that was my first kiss with any of you- I mean, not like I was... waiting for one anyways, of course. Ahem." You started mumbling at the end, looking away while scratching the side of your neck.

It wasn't anything strange for all of you to have some sort of stupid flirting in between conversations, but usually they were extremely noticeable jokes.

These? Oh. These weren't jokes. These were genuine mistakes.

And a part of you hated these silly accidents. Mainly because they knew.

"There seem to be a lot of mixed signs in what you're saying." Colby said, smiling at Sam then looking back at you. "I'm a bit confused in what to believe here."

You shrugged. "Believe what you want to believe, good sir."

"It's just that I don't know if we're on the same page, you know?" Colby continued, looking at Sam. "I only know he's with me."

"Oh, for sure." The sexual tension only filling the room even more. Usually, the jokes were seemingly too overboard and hence, you could tell they were that, plain jokes.

Usually.

Just like your silly little mistakes, these weren't jokes.

"And what does that mean?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, we know what we want. We don't know if it is what you want though."

You sighed heavily, seemingly loosing yourself for a moment as you whined. "Dear God, why are y'all so hot?" You looked up, dozing out of existence after thinking about their looks, their positioning, their everything.

Wait.

WHAT DID YOU JUST THROW OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?

You accidentally said your thoughts out loud.

How does that even happen?!

When you realized what you've done, your eyes went wide, quickly looking at them. "Oh. Fuck. I didn't just- oh God." You didn't even wait to see their reaction as you began walking away. They quickly stood up, and you quickly sped up.

You started laughing but you were absolutely dying inside out of embarrassment. "Come back here!" Sam yelled as he got a hold of you and hugged you from behind, quickly throwing you over his shoulder.

"Let me gooo!" You yelped, moving your legs as you laughed purely by reflex. He held your legs in place. You were blushing hard.

"Nu-uh. We're gonna have a chat, young lady." Colby said, crossing his arms as you looked at him with a pout on your face. Sam turned around and slapped your ass, walking back to the room. You yelped, not expecting the sudden movement.

"A nice, long chat." Sam said as you sighed.

Oh boy. It's gonna be a long night.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

how do you guys like the banner? i got creative(ish)

also pls tell me what you thought about the fic, cause i don't really know if i did good with the idea, i did want them to review the footage but i also wanted a bit of tension or something extra to make it spicy, i'm not sure if i did a good job tho...

thank you for reading!

-nikkõ

smol taglist: @lemonnightmare @yourfavoritefangirl @stardollswrld

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zyafics · 9 months ago

Text

PLAY FAKE | 04

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

Dedication — for @rivaiken, iykyk! <3

The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.

It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.

Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.

But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.

Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.

The only problem is he doesn't give it back.

Asshole.

You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.

"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.

You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.

Only to realize it was Rafe.

Your smile drops.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.

"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."

"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."

"Business?"

"No, at my house."

Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."

"You don't even know what it is about."

"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"

His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.

"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."

You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."

"I haven't told you the day yet."

"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.

"I'll pay you."

"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."

Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?

"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"

You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.

You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.

Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.

"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"

You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."

His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"

Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."

He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.

"I remember you were begging for it."

You slap him.

It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.

Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."

His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.

You were going to drive each other insane.

And some sick part of you liked it.

"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."

"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."

"We never said that in our relationship."

"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."

You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.

"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."

He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.

"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."

For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"

"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"

To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.

He remains silent.

You continue.

"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."

You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.

Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.

"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.

"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."

He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.

—

As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.

About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.

About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.

Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.

Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.

"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."

You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.

A notification flashes at the top of your screen.

topperthornton: hey

Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?

you: hello?

He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.

you: why?

topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn

you: so i heard

topperthornton: well, you should come

you: i don't think so, white boy

topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u

Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.

you: ?? for what

You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.

You hate it.

topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u

You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.

topperthornton: u need to come immediately

Fucking hell.

You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy.

You have to go.

There's no other way around it.

Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.

It's Pope.

"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"

"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.

"Everything okay?"

"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."

Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."

"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"

He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."

You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.

When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.

Topper spots you at the porch.

"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."

You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.

"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"

"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."

You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."

Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.

You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.

You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.

Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.

When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.

You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.

He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.

"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."

"I thought you said you had a double shift."

He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.

"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.

Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.

His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"

You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.

You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.

"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."

His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"

"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."

Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.

"I thought you needed help."

Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."

You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.

"Come here."

You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.

"I know something that would make me feel better."

You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"

"Sit on my lap."

You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.

Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.

"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.

"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."

You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.

"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."

You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."

"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."

You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.

You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.

The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.

"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"

He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."

His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.

You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.

"Don't do that."

"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."

"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."

"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."

He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.

"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."

You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.

This is done in complete silence.

Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."

You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.

"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."

He still doesn't get it.

You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."

His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.

"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."

You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.

"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."

"Easier said than done, darling."

Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.

He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.

You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"

"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."

You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.

When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.

It was easiest to talk to you.

It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.

Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.

And he used that to his advantage.

You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.

You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.

"God, your dad is a dick."

Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.

"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"

"I know what you mean."

That came out with an edge.

You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.

"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.

Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.

"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."

Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."

The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.

"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."

"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."

He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.

"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."

You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.

"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."

Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"

He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.

"Turn around."

Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.

"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.

"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."

Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.

You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.

Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.

"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."

His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"

"I look at you as I do."

A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.

You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.

And he's watching.

"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.

"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."

Fuck, Rafe thought.

With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.

"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.

You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.

"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."

When he truly means to stop torturing him.

You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.

A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.

And he's fucking hard.

Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it.

"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"

"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."

Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.

"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him.

"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."

He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.

You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.

Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"

You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"

He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.

It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.

He has enough.

"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."

He's bargaining, goddammit.

A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

Rafe growls out your name.

You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.

"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."

You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"

He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."

"My pleasure, right, baby?"

"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."

You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.

"You can touch me."

Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.

"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.

"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."

"It doesn't feel good, does it?"

Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."

You provoke further. "You love it."

He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.

"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.

"Feels good?"

"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."

Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"

He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.

"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.

"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby."

Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm.

"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."

You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.

"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."

You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber.

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whimsyprinx · 2 years ago

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i hate eye exams because I’m so worried about failing them but like,, there’s no passing them either, they’re not gonna go “good job, you got an A+ on that eye exam!” they’re gonna tell me I’m near sighted in one eye and farsighted in the other and that I also have astigmatism and tell me when to pick up my glasses. there are no passing grades for eye exams there’s only suffering

#whimsy whispers #and yet the panic persists #it doesn’t help thsg I’m convinced I’m faking every problem of mine #like bitch you can’t fucking see stop saying you’re faking not seeing #you have to cover different eyes with your hand to be able to read stuff sometimes like #god I am dumb of ass #once again shout out to the wife arrange of responses I got from people when I told them about my eyes I think about it often #the most notable is my roommates immediately laughing at me though #I come out and tell y’all about my fucked up eyes and y’all didn’t even hesitate to laugh at me in the middle of that americas best

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

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In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now.

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

��≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks.

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words.

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will.

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen.

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice.

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all."

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused.

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it."

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right.

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up.

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out.

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue.

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous."

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face.

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time."

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem."

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world.

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently.

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice.

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much.

Bonus

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

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bubblegumgothglados · 3 months ago

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This is a RACK focused best practice guide to doing a drowning scene, more specifically a scene where you're repeatedly forcing your victims head under the water. These are my suggestions based on extensive research but they are only theoretical i haven't got to do this to anyone yet. If you have actual experience id love to hear from you please.

Pre-scene setup

Learn CPR. This is the single thing that I'm going to say is mandatory, everything else is just a suggestion this isn't. If worst comes to worst and your victim is drowning you need to be able to save their life.

Learn your victim. How do they react in pain, when they're scared or panicking, where are there mental breaking points. Especially helpful to have done breath play with them before, how long can they hold their breath, how hard will they fight, what are their non verbal cues. Are they the type of person who will push their limits past the danger point, are you comfortable shutting the scene down when they're begging you to continue.

Figure out your nonverbal communication. A safeword is important but not nearly enough for a scene like this. Their head is going to be underwater most if the time and they'll probably be struggling and fighting. What signs can they make to tell you to stop or slow down under these conditions. I would suggest giving them something to hold that can make noise, a squeaky toy or a clicker or something similar, with which to signal you.

During the scene

Use warm water. Cold water adds a whole plethora of new problems significantly increasing the risk. I'm not sure of the exact temperature but I think it should be either room temperature so your victim doesn't feel a temperature difference between the air and the water, or body temperature so the water doesn't change their core temperature. (If you'd like to use cold water or even ice water, if that's part of the appeal, ill happily figure out the additional risks in exchange for a video of you drowning your victim ^.^)

Watch their face. Like any other form of breath play hypoxia is a major risk. This post isn't about breath play, I'm assuming you know all those risks and how to manage them before you do something like this.

Start slow. Put your hand on their head but let them submerge themselves and then come back up when they're ready. This will get them used to the sensation and you used to the rhythm. Slowly increase pressure and intensity until you're forcing their head under and pulling it up against their will.

Have the person fill their lungs to capacity before submerging them. The reason being they will have to breath out before they breath water back in so as soon as you see the first sign of bubbles you can pull them out.

After care

This scene will be intense so the aftercare needs to be too. Again this post isn't about proper aftercare I'm assuming you know how to do that if you're doing something like this. But in addition to the usual.

Have a plan for monitoring your victim for the next 72 hours. There are two major complications that can occur after a drowning incident and both can take days to present themselves. The first is when a persons throat spasms and closes, this is supposed to happen when they initially inhale water but can happen much later. The signs to look out for include persistent coughing, irregular breathing, dizziness, confusion, and foam around the mouth and nose. The second is when water gets deep into the lunges it can cause fluid to build up which inhibits gas exchange causing the person to slowly suffocate. The signs to look out for can include coughing up blood, excessive sweating, anxiety, pale skin, and a crackling sound when breathing deeply. If your victim shows any of these signs get them to a medical professional asap, don't risk it these will both cause very painful death.

Enjoy ^.^

#dear void #lessons in kink

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sukunas-wife · 1 year ago

Note

I'ma need some more of that pregnant reader and sukuna... That kinda slapped do it again please and thank you🌹

Idk if you meant while pregnant or after Yuji was born but here’s some pregnancy moments 🥹 i tried 🤍

“RYOMEN SUKUNA” your voice cutting Uraume off and gaining an irked look from your husband, “what is wo-” he coughed looking away, Uraume turned to look at you closing their eyes trying to hide a snicker as they looked away and down. There you stood in almost your full glory, your robes open the belt just over your bump, your ladies in waiting running in after you, “Lady y/n! Please! You shouldn’t run around bare showing your belly! You’ll catch a cold!” Sukuna was amused but your glare was something he didn’t want to be on the receiving end for too long. It wouldn’t be the first time you kicked him out of HIS room and HIS bed.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

“DO YOU NOT SEE THE PROBLEM?” Your snappy attitude would’ve usually rewards you with his own snappy attitude but he was trying his best to not snap at you while pregnant. “You’re round?” He asked as if it were obvious which caused you to tear up “you think I’m round?” ;-;

Hearing Uraume stifle their laugh, you watched your husband’s as he stood up pulling his robe belt free, throwing his outer robe over bus shoulder. Once he was close enough he took your face in two hands squishing it while the other two stripped you, “I don’t think your round, you are around, but you’re round with OUR child, and I don’t see what could be more comforting than knowing you carry the Proof of our intimacy.”

You looked up at him feeling his hands rest on your swollen belly, now covered by his white robes and belt, “My clothes doesn’t fit like it used to- then use my Robes all you want, ask your hand maids to make new clothes. Whatever you need it’s yours to take.” You smiled leaning your head against his palms enjoying how loose and large his robes were. He didn’t know he had basically signed away his freedom, his robes would now be your robes the more your belly swole.

He eyed you the first time you walked up to him with clean robes folded robes. He didn’t understand why you brought him new clothes? “I want your robes, they’re warm… and smell nice…” the heat on your face and expression of embarrassment made him chuckle as he pulled off his robes and belt before securing them over you, his warm hands and finger tips lingering over your neck, collar bone, wrists and hands when he’d fix the collar and sleeves. The warmth taking over you body as you basked in the warmth of his robes. The faint smell of his natural musk mixed in with woody smoke and the incense from the censors he had brought in ever since the months got colder and the physician saying you’d need to take it easier in bed rest now that you were closer to labor.

Yet you always persisted on looking for and hugging your husband just to place your cold hands on his chest or back. It was one of the few things that made him visibly cringe and shiver or freeze up entirely until your hands warmed up against his skin. Now that he thinks about it he spoiled you entirely in your first pregnancy during the day when you’d lay in bed staring at your stomach bump, cold under the thick blankets ribs shivering until you’d pout and call for your Lady in Waiting, she was a young lady who had grown from a young girl, acting sickly you’d tell her call for your husband, she’d smile laughing lightly “Yes Lady y/n, but I’ll do ny best to convince him it’s urgent.” You’d smile at her before she’d rush off, her shows would vary depending how she’d sense Sukuna’s stats of mind. If it were serious, annoyed or aggressive manor, she’d try to approach respectfully, head bowed explaining how you had sent her to retrieve him in urgency because your weren’t feeling well.

There would go Sukuna rushing to your side to find you shivering thinking you were sick without thought he’d placed his hands on you using his reverse cursed technique to heal you of whatever it could be. Only for you to guide his hand to your face still shivering, “Hold me… I’m cold.” He heart was racing thinking you were cold because you were gonna pass, he scooped you up, pressing you against his chest and dragging the heavy embroidered blanket to cover you more, “how are you feeling?”

He’d walked over to the fire place in the room, two of his arms under the blanket holding you close to him, your head on his chest and shoulder. The other two securing the blanket around you as he SAT ON THE GROUND INFRONT OF THE FIRE PLACE. Your hands coming out the blanket to pull his hand and rest it against your face, “I’m healthy, it’s just cold.” You looked helplessly up at him when he looked at you in disbelief, but you smiled and shook his head, “Scared the shit out of me woman!” You pinched your cheek and you whined, “I have an excellent lady in waiting, she needs higher reward.”

Sukuna scoffed, before resting his chin on your head, “Don’t expect this to become a regular request.”

It became a regular request, one he found himself to enjoy that he had Uraume bring something similar to a love seat for him to recline back on so he could lay you against his chest. It happened more than a few times when you’d fall asleep against his chest and he’d slowly fall into slumber after locking his arms around you. More than enough time Uraume and your ladies in waiting had walked in and giggled at the scene before waking Lord Sukuna to suggest moving to let you rest in the bed now that the sun had set and the room was warm.

The it changed when Yuji was born. There were days he eagerly pushed you off to hold his boy on his chest to keep him warm, of course you were jealous that was your husband :’)

I’m the end, your husband always tried to act indifferent and cold, but his heart was warmed by the love, affection and intimacy he had come to know when his fate had become intertwined with you and your son

🤍❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤🤍🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🤍

Forgot the Tag list 🫣 this is the “Squishy” Tags List as saved in my notes :’)

@sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl

#sukuna ryomen #daddy sukuna #jjk anime #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x wife reader #yuji and mom reader

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imaginestuffs · 4 months ago

Text

Fresh Out the Slammer- Tyler Owens x f!Reader

Word count:3,858

Warnings: Reader's ex is an asshole, language, fluff, angst? my first time writing for Tyler, might be a bit ooc, sorry.

Summary: The reader gets out of a six-year-long prison sentence (relationship). Tyler is there to pick up the pieces and remind her that life is meant to be lived, not just survived. based on the song "Fresh Out the Slammer" by Taylor Swift

(gif not mine!)

Standing in the middle of a rest stop with your team and a few other groups, your boyfriend decided to go off on you.

Just hours earlier he had made a mistake while chasing a tornado. He told you that he wouldn't get too close, he wouldn’t let anything happen. But, that wasn’t the case at all. He decided to take a chance and get as close as he possibly could, and contrary to his beliefs, he did get too close.

You yelled at him to turn around, just as everyone had over the radio. Yet, he persisted despite your begging to go back. Everyone else in the group had turned around but he just couldn’t face the fact that he was wrong. As the storm got closer you began to cry, muttering prayers and pleas to anyone or anything that would hear you.

He began to yell at you to shut up and stop being a bitch. This only made you cry harder, and just as you dreaded a strong gust of wind followed by quite a large piece of debris hit the side of your truck. It hit the truck hard enough to tip it but not enough to make it roll. And for that, you believed your pleas had been heard.

Now here you were after getting checked out by paramedics, luckily nothing severe had happened. Just a gash across your forehead that needed stitches and a few other cuts and bruises. Your friends were terrified when they found you both and confused as to why your boyfriend would do that.

That brought you to the moment you knew it was over.

“You know, if you weren’t such a mess, none of this would’ve happened.” he sneered.

“I’m sorry, what?” you snapped back. He looked at you and rolled his eyes.

“You heard what I said. You’re a damn mess. You sitting there in the passenger seat crying, pleading with God not to let us die. Like I didn’t know what I was doing.” He took a large step towards you and your breath hitched.

“You weren’t listening to any of us, we could have been seriously hurt. We could have died Nathan!” your eyes were wide, and your heart was pounding.

“There you go again, being as dramatic as you can. You’d do anything for attention and sympathy. It makes me sick, honestly. Get over yourself, no one cares (y/n)! I sure as hell don’t.” he said. Your heart dropped, and your eyes began to tear up.

“Go ahead and cry just like always. I’m done with you and all your problems. It was your fault for the accident. If you weren't being a baby I would’ve been paying attention. Get out of here, we’re leaving. Go home and pack your shit.” his voice was as cold as his eyes were.

He stormed away to where the rest of your group stood. They all looked at him in fear, not knowing how cruel he was.

“What the hell are you looking at? Let’s get out of here before she comes begging for forgiveness,” he said in disgust.

All you could do was stand there, watching all of the people you thought loved you turn their backs on you. Leave you there like you never mattered to them at all.

They drove off and you felt your heart shatter. You didn’t know he hated you that much, and it made you feel sick.

Feeling your stomach churn you quickly ran to the side of the building and threw up. As you were hunched over you felt hands grab your hair and someone rubbing your back soothingly.

Once you had stopped you began to sob, you were completely overwhelmed and in quite a state. You didn’t know who had pulled you into a hug but you held on so tightly you could’ve bruised them.

“Hey, hey. Shh, it’s ok I’ve got you.” the person's voice was something you held onto in your mind. “You’re gonna be ok, I promise,” the man spoke softly letting his hand smooth your hair down.

You weren't sure how long you stayed that way but when you eventually calmed down your grip became lax. You rubbed at your eyes trying to get the world into focus again.

Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you were reminded of the person next to you.

Glancing up you saw a man you’d never expected to see. Tyler Owens.

At that moment you didn’t care who he was, you just knew that you were grateful for him.

You had come across him and his team a few times, and despite him being a little annoying he was always kind to you.

His eyes held a softness you had never seen, and his smile was sympathetic.

You realized then how ridiculous you must look. Dirty clothes mascara trails on your face and puffy eyes. You suddenly became embarrassed.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m not doing this for attention. I just felt overwhelmed, and the crash and everything caught up to me all at once. Honestly, I didn’t mean for anyone to see me like this. I’m so sorry Tyler, You didn’t have to help me-” He cut off your rambling.

“(y/n), listen to me,” he said and ducked down to try and meet your eyes. You turned your head away, so as gently as he could with a firm grip, he turned your face towards him.

You looked at him and saw no judgment or anger. The only thing you saw was kindness, and with his hand on your cheek, you felt how steady he was.

“You have no reason to be sorry. What you just went through is not easy to process. I know you’re not doing this for attention. You’re hurt, and you're exhausted, and I can assume you're still shaken up from the car flipping.” He said with a calmness you never thought of when it came to Tyler.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to calm yourself. “It’s not your fault, none of it is your fault.”

It had been a few months since everything happened, and you were beginning to see all of the things you ignored. With the fog lifted you could see that the way Nathan treated you was beyond terrible. Everything that didn’t go his way was your fault. The way he only said he loved you when you were in front of your families. All the times he chewed you out in front of the team, and then would persuade you to forgive him and believe that it was once again your fault.

Tyler and his team ended up taking you home. He went with you to get your things from Nathan’s apartment. He made things bearable, he made you feel like you were important and that was so new to you.

You became quite good friends with his group as well. They had all checked in on you as much as they could. They’d stop by and spend the night, just keeping you company. They wanted you to feel like you had people who cared for you. Honestly, they all fell in love with you.

Currently, you were sitting at home curled up on the couch with your latest book. A cup of tea sat on the side table, and rain lightly drizzled on the roof.

Hearing cars pull up outside your brows furrowed, and you bookmarked your page before getting up. With the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you made your way to the window. There in your driveway was Tyler’s red truck, and the RV. You saw everyone pile out of the cars and you quickly walked to your front door and yanked it open.

“Guys!” you shouted and dropped your blanket in favor of running down your porch towards your friends. Boone being the closest you crashed into him, your arms around him in a big hug.

“Hey, (y/n)!” he exclaimed as he held you tightly. He swayed you a bit and you chuckled before pulling away.

You went around and greeted all your friends.

“Where’s my hug?” You heard Tyler’s voice sound from behind you. You turned to look at him with a big smile.

You opened your arms, “Right here if you want it,” you teased. He chuckled slightly before walking towards you and swiftly wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a laugh when he picked you up off the wet grass. It was only then that you remembered that it was raining. You felt the water land on your warm face and you scrunched your nose.

Tyler couldn’t help but smile at you, admiring the joy and contentment he could see on your face. It was a peace he never saw you have before.

Setting you down you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours before jogging towards the open door. Everyone else had gone inside to escape the rain, or at least that’s the reason they gave you.

The whole team knew that the real reason they went into the house was to let you and Tyler have a moment. They could tell that something was happening between the two of you.

You closed the door behind you, and Tyler picked up the blanket you had dropped on the floor.

Luckily it wasn’t a full-blown storm so none of you were soaked. Just a few sprinkles on your clothes. You offered your friends coffee or tea, or a beer if they wanted one. Surprisingly they all opted for coffee.

“The fact that you don’t put any cream or sugar into your coffee makes me ill Dexter.” You said jokingly.

“Well, I want coffee not just a cup of cream and sugar,” he said and shrugged. You laughed as you walked into the kitchen to make the coffee for them.

As you walked away everyone turned their attention towards Tyler.

“So, are you gonna go talk to her?” Dani questioned him with a smirk. Tyler raised a brow at them and scoffed.

“We all know you’re dying to ask her out Ty, just go do it,” Lily urged him.

He shook his head and sighed. “You guys are crazy, she just got her heart broken a few months ago. I doubt she wants to jump into something else so soon,” Tyler told them.

Boone looked at his best friend with a questioning look. “Tyler, I swear to god if you don’t go in there and ask that woman out, I’ll do it for you,” he threatened.

Tyler sighed in defeat. “What would I even say?” he asked them all.

“Just talk to her like normal. Just be Tyler, that’s all she would want,” Dani patted his shoulder.

“Shit,” Tyler mumbled before standing from his place on the couch. They all quietly cheered him on as he walked away.

You had music playing as you made everyone’s coffee for them. Swaying around the kitchen you sang quietly under your breath.

“Now pretty baby, I’m running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to. Fresh out the slammer ah,” When the first verse started did a small spin.

Tyler stood quietly in the doorway admiring you in your own world. It was as if nothing could touch you right now. In that moment he realized just how much he wanted to be yours. He knew he could treat you better. He would do anything to see you smile, and to see you without a care in the world.

He let out a small chuckle as you spun. You heard him and turned around in surprise. You let out a breath realizing that it was just him. You smiled and walked over to him to grab his hands.

You began to dance with him to the song. He twirled you away from him and pulled you back in. You laughed and began to sing the song again.

“Now pretty baby, I’m runnin’ to the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams. To the one who says I’m the girl of his American Dreams.” He smiled down at you and pulled you in close. Your arms around his waist and his arms around your shoulders. You had never felt this safe before, and it was the happiest you had been in years.

“But it’s gonna be alright, I did my time.”

The song ended and he slowly pulled away. Your smile was soft and your gaze was warm as you looked up at him. He could feel his heart melt at the sight in front of him.

He glanced at your lips, then back up to your eyes. He took a tentative step closer, placing a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek. You took a small step forward, and your smile turned shy. You placed one hand on his forearm and the other on his shoulder.

He slowly leaned in, pausing for just a second, his nose brushing yours. Taking a moment to see if this was what you wanted. He felt your soft breathing against his lips, and he saw that your eyes were closed.

“Please,” he heard your soft whisper, and without a second thought, he pressed his lips against yours.

You immediately pushed up on your toes to press yourself closer to him. Tyler couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt this way for someone. His hand drifted from your face into your hair, gently tugging the soft strands. You sighed into the kiss and he took the opportunity to deepen it. The hand on your waist had moved to your back to keep you flush against him.

The way he kissed you made you feel like you didn’t have to worry about being hurt. You didn’t have to tiptoe around him or be scared that one day he would just decide he didn’t love you. It felt like rain after a drought, sun after a cruel winter, Finally escaping the prison cell you had been in for the last six years.

It felt like freedom.

“Ty! Roll down the window!” you said in excitement. Tyler looked at you with a huge grin.

“You better be careful baby,” he said, with that glint in his eyes.

“Always am,” you winked as you pulled yourself as far out the window as you could. You were practically sitting with your legs in the car and your torso through the window. You held on to the cage with one hand letting yourself feel the rain and wind whipping through your hair. Tyler drove down the road as best as he could while stealing glances at you.

He heard how you laughed and yelled into the wind. It was moments like those when he realized he had found his person. He found the person he wanted to spend forever with.

When Tyler saw the clouds becoming more dense he tapped your leg softly as a way of telling you to come back in. You quickly slid yourself back into the seat with a huge smile.

Your hair was slightly wet and completely wind-swept.

“God, I love you,” he said and you chuckled.

“Why do you say that?” you asked slightly out of breath.

“Because you understand me. I don’t have to explain why I do this, because you love it just as much as I do,” he said and you smiled over at him.

“If it wasn't for you, I wouldn’t have ever done this again. You brought back the love of chasing, I know with you I have nothing to be afraid of,” You told him and leaned over to kiss the corner of his smile.

He placed on hand on your thigh and glanced over at you with so much love.

“Are you guys ready for this?!” Boone’s voice came through the radio loud and clear. A laugh escaped you.

Picking up the radio, you responded. “We are. Are you?”

Boone could hear the smirk in your voice. Lily laughed, “See you on the other side!” she crowed.

Tyler drove further into the storm's path, when he got exactly where you wanted to be, he anchored the truck into the ground.

Tyler looked over at you with the same grin you had seen countless times now. The one that you’d never get tired of seeing, and you imagine your smile mirrored his.

The tornado swirled around you, and the rush of adrenaline you always felt came flooding through you. Tyler's hand was still placed on your thigh, a grounding comfort for you. Despite your love for tornadoes and storms, there was always the smallest twinge of fear. But it was something you had grown to appreciate, it made you have so much more respect for Mother Nature.

It was amazing to see the look on Ty’s face as he watched everything happen around him. There was never a time you had seen him unimpressed by a tornado, a storm, or just rain on a cloudy day.

It was your favorite thing to witness. His passion and eagerness to understand these things.

The tornado had passed and you and Tyler immediately looked at each other and burst into laughter.

You leaped out of the truck and turned to watch the tornado forge its path across the field.

Tyler came up behind you and scooped you up. He let out a shout of joy, and you laughed breathlessly. He set you down.

“Did you see that baby?!” he yelled. He ran a hand through his hair and you smiled.

“That was beautiful Ty! I can’t believe that!” you enthused as you danced around the field. Tyler chuckled and grabbed your hand spinning you around.

He pulls you close to him and you reach up to hold his face in your hands. Your hair was a bit frizzy from the rain earlier and your eyes were bright as you looked at him with so much love.

“Tyler Owens, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” you said and pulled him down to kiss you.

His hand crept under your shirt, and you shivered at his touch. His hands were rough, but it made you melt. He pulled away when a car horn honked a few feet away.

You turned to see who it was. Expecting it to be the crew you were surprised to see Nathan and your old team get out of their cars.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Nathan stormed over to you but Tyler quickly stood in front of you.

“Get out of my way,” Nathan said, trying his best to sound intimidating.

It was true that Nathan was significantly shorter than Tyler, and you had to hold back your laugh.

“What are you gonna do, Kick me?” Tyler questioned with a raised brow.

“(y/n), we need to talk right now,” He used that voice that always used to scare you into doing what he wanted. He sounded pathetic now.

“She doesn't owe you a damn thing Nathan,” Tyler said and took a step closer to him.

You stepped forward to grab Tyler’s wrist and pull him back. Just as you did this, you heard your friends pull up next to you.

They all got out of their cars as well and came over to see what was going on.

When they saw Nathan, they all sighed in annoyance.

“Why is Shorty here?” Dani asked.

Nathan sent a glare their way, and Dani flipped him off.

“Damn it, (y/n), Just let me talk to you!” he shouted angrily.

Tyler was about to step in when you squeezed his hand. He looked down at you quizzically.

“I can talk to him, it’s ok T,” you said and tugged him down to kiss his cheek.

Tyler took a couple of steps back and let you stand in front of Nathan.

“Nathan, what do you want?” you asked him with your arms crossed.

“Why the hell are you with them? Why are you with him?” he questioned angrily.

“I’m way better than him. I knew you were desperate but Tyler Owens, are you serious?” Nathan took a jab, expecting to get a reaction out of you.

You just gave him a look as if asking if he was done talking.

“You done?” You questioned with a raised brow.

He stood there unable to find words, “What the hell is wrong with you?” he ended up spitting out.

You scoffed. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing. But I can tell you what's wrong with you.” before he got a chance to clap back you spoke up again.

“You treat everyone else around you like crap because you're bitter. You take out your anger on the people around you because you can’t face the fact that you’re miserable. You took everything out on me, it was always my fault. Every little thing that didn’t go right in your life, you blamed on me.”

“That’s bullshit!” he interjected angrily.

“Oh, really? Should I bring up the time you told me I was your biggest mistake, that if you never would have talked to me you wouldn’t be having so many problems. You made me believe that I was always the problem.” You stated with conviction.

“Being with you was a prison sentence, if you hadn’t left that day, I would’ve died handcuffed to the spell I was under, lost in the shade of how you were feeling. You leaving me there was the best thing to happen to me,” you affirmed.

“By the way, for every time you called me a bitch, He calls me the girl of his American dreams.”

You flipped him off with the sweetest smile you could muster.

“Fuck you,” he spat at you and you kept a smile on your face. He turned away from you and began to walk away.

“One more thing Nathan! These people that I’m with now, are worth more than 100 of you,” you said and pointed to the whole group.

They got in their cars and turned around as fast as they could. You turned to look at your friends and boyfriend. They all looked stunned.

“What?” you asked with a smile. “That was my favorite thing that has ever happened,” Lily spoke and you chuckled. Dexter walked up to you and wrapped you in a hug, you hugged him back just as everyone else joined in on it.

You laughed with everyone as you pulled away. “I love you guys, what more is there to say,” you shrugged.

You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled before turning around to face Tyler. He smiled down at you. You reached up and took the hat off of his head and placed it on your own with a sly smile.

“The girl of my American dreams, huh?” he questioned with a smirk. You tilt your head a bit as you gaze up at him.

“You know it, cowboy,”

---

“But it’s gonna be alright, I did my time,”

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens oneshot #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens fic #tyler owens fluff #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #glen powell #Spotify

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hoseoksluna · 1 year ago

Text

PRACTICE | jjk

pairing: dom!jungkook x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.9k

summary: you make jungkook proud by practicing what he taught you.

warnings: jungkook smiling and being all dominant!!!, also manly as fuck, use of his korean name cuz it's hot, masturbation, reader is horny and just a girl!!, biker mask (gasp), edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub dynamics, squirting, desperation, porn, use of a sex toy, brief nipple play, spanking, bratty behavior <3, degradation, praise, the beauty of cumming together, mentions of sex, aftercare

note: it's entirely jungkook's fault that i wrote this bc he made me h word. i hope you enjoy the very first of the many smutty one shots i'm planning to write!! i had the time of my life writing this, imagining 3D!jungkook cuz he's just so delicious there. my weakness. fuck my life!! pls let me know what you think <3 like and comment (reblogs r very useful but i won't pressure u angel). love you!!

side note: i rly fucking miss jungkook. that's all. byebye

Stars fill your vision as your hand works wonders between the softness of your legs. You are fucked. Oh so deliciously, majestically and colossally fucked. And you whimper once the wave of that pleasure you burn for unfolds within your body. Arch your back. Roll your hips. Huff and puff until you near your breaking point. Then you lift your hand.

The surge ebbs away and you sink your teeth into your puffy bottom lip, desperation scorching each and every perimeter of your skin.

You enjoy this. The smug on your face couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. You've been going at this for a dozen of minutes, sitting on your dark green couch with your legs spread, one hand rubbing circles on your needy bundle of nerves, the other gripping your phone with all its might, how it hasn’t cramped yet is beyond you, as it plays a dirty porn that does very little to quench your thirst. Your closest friend for the time being, have been ‘for the time being’ for much longer than you care to admit, a small pink vibrator Pinkie, keeps you company beside you while you swallow every grunt and whimper the couple in the video makes. It's turned off, however. Resting in the shadow of the threatening calamite that your shaking thighs are. You can't edge yourself with it when you're this fucked, so deeply lost in the rosy maze of lust. You would have to keep the head on your clit for merely a second, otherwise you'd be coming, and you'd be coming fast but not very hard. And where’s the fun in that? It still keeps you thirsty, your insides begging you again and again for another hit of dopamine, for just one drop of cum. Well, your pussy mainly.

It’s a persistent problem for you. You get horny, you touch yourself and you come under two minutes or less. The hit so small in quantity, so weak in quality that you inescapably need more than one round to be satisfied. The situation is even more problematic when you get down to it with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter much when you’re on the receiving end; you enjoy yourself, you look forward to his dick splitting you open, so it just cuts time. Although it does matter when he fucks you like the man he is. You clamp down on him, and he comes as fast as you do. You can’t help it. You’re so enamored with him, with his masculinity and his dominance, it burns your body alive. Who are you to tell your body no? It’s impossible. He’s impossible, and absolutely irresistible. Though you wish you could get lost in the pleasure, and you truly do each time you have sex, and it gets unfairly swept away from you. You’re just a thirsty girl. This unjust treatment pisses you off.

You opened up to your boyfriend about this and he laughed in your face, stroking your cheek. Told you it’s what he loves about you and you just rolled your eyes, dismissing it. Then he took your hand and sat you down again, offering you a solution that changed your life. For the worst at first, for the better the more you did it.

He suggested you try edging yourself when you play with your pussy. He showed you the ropes the first time, guiding you through a long process of denied orgasms, and you wanted to strangle him. You had to lift your hand when he said so, otherwise you were getting spanked. The joke was on him because you enjoyed the harsh sting, the roughness of his palm on your skin. But then it was him who was laughing when he pinned your arms above your head and confiscated your pleasure. You squirmed. Whined. Waited. Then he fingered you and you came so hard you saw stars, the orgasm just kept going and going. You were satisfied after one round. Problem fixed.

“Practice it until your body learns,” he had told you and you almost came again.

What a man.

The memory of this teaching lesson is what got you thirsty right now, actually.

You pay attention to the way the guy in the video squishes the tits of the lucky girl in the video and fucks them with his cock. You moan, lowering your fingers to your clit again and starting a series of slow circles. Your fingers are slippery from your leaking essence and the sweat on your folds from your marvelous torment, and it turns you on even more. You feel your orgasm coming, despite your pace, and you eat your fist in exasperation. Should you say fuck it and finally make yourself come? You hear the order uttered by your boyfriend in the back of your head, remember how long he told you to edge for that one time, and you want to make him proud (you do!), but then the girl licks at the slit of his cock and you clench around nothing. You want that so bad and you groan, anger and desperation creating something so sinful, so unhinged inside of you.

Resuming your movement on your bud, you pick up the pace because fuck it, you can’t take it anymore. The pressure, the anticipation of chasing after what you desire is so sweet and it fills you with energy and giddiness. Fuck jogging, now you're sprinting, clenching your muscles, nearing closer and closer to the finish line. You lift your knees, riding your hand, moans spilling from your mouth. You'd come right on the spot if it wasn't for the ding of a sudden text message snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Fuck, did you not turn on 'do not disturb'?

koo: I'm here

You stare at the notification in disbelief. Beneath it, the guy is fucking the girl's throat. You screech, burying your face in your hands. What is your boyfriend doing here so early? You aren't supposed to see each other until later tonight, or are you forgetting something? Your mind is spinning, another denied orgasm taking a toll on you. Sighing, you slip your legs into your panties and your plush pajama pants, your feet finding their comfort in your fluffy slippers. Since he's here, he's gonna make himself extremely useful, you decide, putting on your warm bathrobe with Mickey Mouse on it and grabbing your keys.

As you descend the stairs from your apartment, the sticky wetness between your legs makes you uncomfortable. Your eyebrows furrow in anger. Does a girl really have to suffer in order to reach a mind-blowing orgasm these days? You scoff to yourself, sinking your key into the lock of the door to the main building. The key doesn't budge, though, and it almost makes you punch that fucking door. The lock has been sporadically working and not working for months, hence why the door needs to stay locked properly at all times, and nobody has so far taken the time to call someone to repair it. You kick the door with your knee and you hear a laugh behind it. You recognize it belongs to your boyfriend and you smile to yourself, finding the sweet sound stupidly cute. Your hand reaches for the key again and you turn it. To your surprise, the lock doesn't fuck around and actually lets you see your boyfriend.

Jeongguk is standing beside his motorcycle, black helmet under his armpit. Your eyes widen when they discover his face is hidden under a biker mask of the same color. You haven’t seen him with his bike in quite some while. He prefers to drive you around in his car lately. It’s winter after all. He keeps you warm, sneaks his fingers between your legs, rubs your pussy through your jeans to tease you because he likes it when you’re needy for the rest of the evening. Oh, and you eat there so icicles don’t hang from your hands. Food, that is. You get it.

It’s a wonderful surprise, nonetheless. Only his orbs and eyebrows are visible, his pouty mouth creates shapes on the mask that almost causes you to see stars again. Yeah, you think you could come like this, staring at his tall figure dressed in a puffer jacket and gray baggy jeans laying dangerously low on his hips. Even though you know how big his dick is, the size of them makes him appear even bigger and you salivate. Your pussy drools, too. You're about to get on your knees right now, you don't care.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to fix that fucking lock myself," Jeongguk remarks.

Oh, fuck. He's so manly.

Just one suck. Fuck, please. Just one.

You're going to scrape your fucking knees on the ground for everyone to see, you genuinely don't care. He deserves it for looking like that, for acting like such a man.

Your clit gains a heartbeat (again) and you blink up at him, desperation once again unfurling its flames under your skin. You smile behind the pain, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous now.

"I'd be grateful," you purr and Jeongguk walks towards you, smiling like the little shit he is, helmet still under his armpit. You lift the hem of his mask to reveal his delicious lips, piercing-less. You kiss him, moonstruck. "I'm tired of this shitty lock."

Jeongguk nods. "Noted." Then he kisses you again. "It was funny how you kicked it."

You laugh. He takes off the mask entirely and you both walk up the stairs to your apartment, though a pang of disappointment hangs onto your heart. You wish he kept the mask on. It was nonsensically hot to you. A lightbulb flares to life in your mind abruptly and you hide your smirk beneath the curtain of your hair.

Yeah, you’re going to make him wear it as you suck him dry.

Your giddiness extends to another level and you hurriedly walk up the rest of the stairs to your apartment, your butt jiggling under your thick robe.

Jeongguk walks in like he owns the place. He sets his helmet on the kitchen island and his mask right beside it. You watch as he empties out his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys, a pack of cigarettes and a purple lighter. Leaning over, he hangs his winter jacket on one of the barstools. His back muscles ripple under his oversized black T-shirt with each movement of his arms. What steals your attention, however, is the sliver of skin that he unwittingly lets you see as he fixes his jeans to rest a little higher on his hips.

White Calvins.

Oh, yes.

The dip of his spine on his lower back.

You lick your lips.

The smallness of his waist that grows into such a vulgar broadness of his shoulders.

Fuck, you do everything you can to not bite onto your finger; instead you opt to hide your drool beneath your hand as you continue to wait behind him, tracing your lower lip with the acrylic nail on your thumb, diabolical with your stand and your plan. Crossed arms, needy pussy and all.

What a man.

What a fucking man.

You squeeze your thighs together.

When he turns away from the kitchen, you leap to the counter. You snatch the mask and gaze at it lovingly. Such an innocent thing, and it made you this hot and bothered. You shake your head at the bizarreness of it all, but your smile remains.

"What the fuck were you doing here?"

You gasp at the sternness in his tone, hiding the mask under your armpit similarly like he did with his helmet downstairs. You don't understand where his abrupt austerity stems from, but it makes your legs wobbly, so much that you bump into him as you hurry to see what he sees, grabbing his arm as if to say sorry. And then your heart drops.

A round wet spot adorns your dark green couch, where you sat and pleasured yourself before he came. Your best friend Pinkie, sticky and lifeless, almost beams at you in mischief. A smile of your own begins to quiver on your lips before you burst into giggles, a tiny amount of shyness painting your cheeks with rosiness.

“I was practicing?” you answer truthfully, lilting your voice a little bit.

Jeongguk closes his eyes at your words, his lips forming a thin line. Hangs his head. Slouches in your grip. It is a stark contrast to how he entered your apartment. His breath quickens and you watch the raise and the fall of his chest. You realize this means only one thing.

"Are you crazy?" Jeongguk says, eyes still closed. "Do you even realize what you've just done to me?"

He finally looks at you and your heart drops further down your belly. Fire splashes around in his eyes, akin to yours. He straightens his posture, turning his body to face you. Feet spread apart, he crosses his arms across his chest. Veins prominent, muscles like strings oscillating on his forearm as he taps his fingers on his elbow.

Your weakness.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"And what's this?" He points to what you stole from him. He doesn't take it from you.

You suddenly remember your plan. Being so absorbed in his masculine energy, you forgot everything. Even your own name.

"Well, I had this idea," you start.

He hums in interest. Butterflies break havoc in your stomach.

"And what idea was that?" He cocks his head to the side, studying you.

You started, but you don't think you can finish. Not when you're so wet that you can feel your slick trickle out of the confines of your thin panties. Not when his stance makes you feel like you did something very bad and the next word that comes out of your mouth decides your punishment. Not when it thrills you this much.

Swallowing dryly, you avert your gaze. Do you say it or do you play dumb? Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, eyes falling to his crotch. Those cursed fucking jeans do a poor job of hiding his growing member and you tremble, itching to sink onto the hardwood floor, itching to palm him through the harsh fabric just to hear him hiss through his teeth. The impulse to do it, to simply be a brat and do what you want while he stares you down, fills your every vein, but you know better. Once you hit a nerve, Jeongguk doesn’t let you cum (at all) and you can’t sit on your bottom for a week. You can’t afford that right now.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You need your relief, and you need it desperately. You will behave if it means you’ll receive it from him.

"I was thinking," you mutter, fluttering your eyelashes open. “You could put this on while I make you feel good."

Nodding once, Jeongguk hums again. You feel the deep vibrations of his voice coursing down your body, starting from your cheeks. They warm them and paint them in pink, then they continue over the swell of your chest, leaving behind little pearls of sweat, until they reach your cunt. There they strengthen the pulse of your needy bud and you can’t take it anymore. You sigh audibly, hoping it prompts your boyfriend to do something.

“Make me feel good how?” he questions you.

You look up at him. His eyes are lowered into slits, woozy from arousal. You truly did turn him on with the mere evidence of your self-indulgence. You buzz from this achievement, a puckish smirk appearing on your mouth.

Jeongguk pries the mask away from your hold, keeps it in his grasp and with his other hand, he unravels the knot of your robe with his fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. He cocks his eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.

Fuck it, you’re giving it your all. Anything to get fucked in the way you want, in the way you know he can give it to you.

“I get on my knees for you. Play with your tip, take you as far as I can until I choke on it, then I suck on your—“

He grabs your chin harshly and raises it to his level. That’s enough, he said with that gesture and you leak down your thighs. No matter how strongly the words, ‘can I finish my fucking sentence’ hangs off the top of your tongue, you remain quiet. Obedient.

He cups your pussy through your pajama pants with his other hand, inching closer to you until his figure swallows you. His soft moan reaches your ear once he discovers how slippery your pussy is against your silky underwear and your stomach flips. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much where you need him due to the thickness of the material. It adds to your frustration quite plenty, though. This what you get for being good?

Inhaling deeply, he levels his eyesight with yours. “How many times did you come, hm?”

Your breath hitches and you lower your eyes, shyness caused from his dominance taking every bit of confidence you had left. His words blaze your insides—he knows you so well. He knows how obsessed you’ve become with playing with yourself ever since he told you to practice. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The latter being more frequent, hence why you exerted yourself today. He knows this. For some reason it makes this moment even more intimate and stimulating for you. But you don’t let him know that.

“What makes you think I lost this time?” you retort, the brattiness slipping through before you could control it.

His fingers aren’t doing nearly enough to give you the relief you seek and you whine, grinding your hips against his curious fingers. Much to your dismay, he still keeps his pressure light. Pretends to be blind to your desperation. You let out a huff of air, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband of your pants, anger fueling you on.

You barely manage to pull it down before Jeongguk turns you around. He locks your arms in his grasp from behind, tugs the pants beneath the swell of your ass and smacks your cheek, leaving a rippling effect in its wake. He then grabs your face from behind to make you look at him.

“Did I fucking ask you to take ‘em off?”

You’d come on the spot if you could. But you’re still angry.

“No, I asked you a simple question,” Jeongguk continues. “And I expect you to answer.”

You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows. “Jeongguk, I’m so wet there’s a fucking puddle in my panties. I can’t take it anymore. Please, I need to come.”

Jeongguk raises his at your answer and hums lowly, grinding his hips into your ass and arching your back even further in this position. You moan distinctly at the feeling of his member, engorged and hard.

Jeongguk lets go of your arms and presses you against him fully, lowering his hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, the other around your middle. You love it like this the most, cocooned in his embrace from behind—you can’t see him, but you can feel him, you can feel the firmness of his touch, the solidness of his body, and you know he’s there.

“How many times?” he asks once again, more gently this time, lips tracing the shape of your ear. He rubs your belly to soothe you and you close your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A smile, a mischievous one, much like the one your best friend Pinkie had, threatens to appear on your lips. He has turned into a soft dom for you and it makes you weak. So much that all you want to do right now is give him pleasure.

You begin to rotate your hips against him and he hisses, cursing under his breath. Yes, that’s precisely what you wanted to hear. You put more pressure into your movement and he slides your hand down your mound to stop you, his tongue coming to play with your ear. Fuck, okay. You listen, transferring your teasing elsewhere.

“Zero,” you finally answer, figuring he deserves the reward.

Jeongguk grabs your shoulders and turns you around, pinching his eyebrows together. “Don’t believe you. There’s no fucking way you’d leave it wet like that without coming at least three—“

“I was about to come before you so rudely interrupted me.”

His eyes darken and you realize you fucked up.

He takes his hands off of you and starts walking, causing you to walk backwards to your couch.

“My apologies.” He pushes you to sit down on the soiled spot, taking a seat right in front of you on the coffee table. “Don’t let me interrupt you any further. Please“—He hooks his fingers under your pajama pants along with your underwear and takes it off in one go—“continue. Make yourself come.”

You gulp. Fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you ever heard.

He scoots closer to you on the coffee table and extends your legs over his. You ogle him. The manspread, the tent in his pants, the serious look on his face. You slip your hand to your clit and start rubbing, your eyes closing as pleasure floods you. Finally. You moan, and you moan loudly.

“Nuh-uh.”

You sigh before you open your eyes. There he goes, interrupting you again. A familiar buzzing fills your ears.

You startle as the highest setting tickles your hand in an uncomfortable way. Jeongguk, wearing the mask now, wraps your hand around the vibrator and guides it to your clit, interlacing his fingers with yours in the process. Fuck, he did not just do that. You’re moaning before it even reaches you, your walls clenching around nothing.

“There you go,” he lifts his intense gaze from your pussy to your eyes. “Now come.”

And you do.

You squirt all over your intertwined hands, squirming uncontrollably while holding eye contact with him until he controls you, sliding his other free hand to your waist to hold you down. He moves the vibrator to your slit to give your puffy clit a break, collecting your juices. Then, another wave comes: Jeongguk slips the head back to your clit and presses down hard before quickly fixing a steady rhythm of going up and down. You’re just holding it, holding his hand. Taking the pleasure he gives you. Convulsing, clenching and screaming, coming so hard your eyes roll back—stars finally coming to stay.

Then, you’re pushing him away when overstimulation perfuses your body with a blunt pain. You close your legs. You thrash with yourself. But he’s stronger. The hand that was on your waist lifts up your bralette and uncovers your tits. The same fingers plunge into your mouth and you suck on them, calming down, earning an appreciative hum from him. He flicks your nipple, touches your breast, the nub deliciously rubbing against his rough palm. Pushes your other one to the mix so he can focus on both of your nipples at once, holds them like that as they bounce in his grip. You lift your pelvis, furiously riding the wave of an upcoming orgasm that will probably take you out.

You lose the sense of time and space when you come for the third time.

You’re gushing, leaking, bursting, both hands—yours and his—dripping wet with your dewiness. You think you’re levitating, but his firm touch grounds you, and when you open your eyes, Jeongguk is breathing hard. He’s watching you thoroughly; you can’t tell what he’s thinking, features still hidden by that mask. Your mind is empty, incapable of forming one coherent thought. You’re completely brainless. Fucked out.

Jeongguk gets on his knees and leans towards you. He tears his mask off, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“How pitiful,” he smiles. “So much for practicing.”

He gives you a filthy kiss full of tongue and you roll your body against his. His chest rubs against your nipples and it sends sparks of electricity through you.

“You wouldn’t last. Not a chance.”

You groan into his mouth. He’s so close that his musky scent is intoxicating you, his T-shirt is wet and your core is pressed against the one part of his stomach that the cloth exposed. It’s so warm and soul-stirring to you. You whine from the overstimulation of it all, especially the degradation.

“Jeongguk, I came so hard,” you tell him, coming up for some air.

He kisses your jaw. “I know. So fucking hot.” Takes his groans and presses them in the form of kisses into all the sensitive spots of your neck. “You made yourself come this hard, I’m proud.”

You moan. So moonstruck. So enamored. So satisfied.

Jeongguk lifts his head from the crook of your neck and grins at you. You reciprocate.

“That was so good,” you whisper and bite your lip, stroking his hair back. You find you’ve broken the skin already, but you don’t mind. “So, so good.”

His eyes drop to your mouth, then at the pearls of your pleasure on your chest.

“So filthy. Need to clean you up.”

Your stomach flips.

He laps them up, collecting them with his tongue. One at the top of your sternum, the middle of your breasts, the long dip on your stomach. Pearl after pearl, butterfly after butterly breaking havoc again in you. You’re swaying your hips before he even gets to your mound.

“Needy again? I haven’t finished here yet.”

A little, but not as desperately as before. You’re enjoying it. Feels as though you’re allowed to. And you tell him.

He smiles. Starts a series of open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh. Sighs against your skin when you play with his hair, gently scratch his scalp with your manicured nails. Rubs your wet thighs, sucking the skin and biting it. Hard and soft, the blend of it. You’re on cloud nine.

“Gonna reward you,” he announces. You suck in your stomach, biting your lip. He touches your cunt and the digits just glide. Straight to your hole that needs his cum. “For doing such a good job. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He rubs it in circles, teasing you. Watches your reaction. You throw your head back, moving your hips in tandem with the pads of his fingers. Soaked enough, he slips them into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You mewl. Sense his hot breath on your pussy. Sense him shifting in his spot erratically and you figure he’s grinding his hard cock against the couch.

“My turn now.”

He closes his puffy lips around your clit. Swirls the tip of his tongue around it. Merry go round, you throw your head back, enjoying the sensation. Then he puts pressure around the muscle and goes counterclockwise. Now you’re spinning, unable to stop the sounds, inter-threaded with his name, from slipping out of your mouth. Then he decides to tease you. Widens his laps of circles. Reaches your folds, makes them wetter. And it makes you feral, the waiting for the pleasure. You grip his hair, grinding into his face. His moans reach your ears again, and suddenly it’s too much. He sucks on your clit, and he sucks hard. Lifts your hips in the air and just ravages your cunt, licking up and swallowing all that you’re offering to him as he fucks his cock into the couch.

He’s grunting, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. You’re obscenely loud. His thrusts quicken as do the skilled flicks of his tongue. It’s way too fucking much and you’re screaming, but you let him. You let him until he rams his hips for the last time, until he sucks so hard that your hearing sense leaves you for a moment, and you’re coming. And so is he.

You don’t even know how long it takes before you fully come down, but you know one thing for sure. That when he stands up and you’re blessed with the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, his cock dripping with last drops of cum through his white (almost see-through) underwear, he deserves to be cleaned up by you just the same.

You make grabby hands at him when he returns with wet wipes.

“What is it, baby?” He sinks to his knees in front of you, taking out the wipe to clean you properly.

“Need you in my mouth. Please.”

He laughs softly and you think that sound will be your demise.

“You’re exhausted,” he tells you, wiping down your folds. “What you need is sleep.”

You don’t have the strength to prove him wrong. You’re spent.

He picks you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He covers you in your fluffy blanket, knowing full well you hate to be under the duvet when you’re just napping. Tucks you in. Sits beside you. Brushes your hair back. Fixes the blanket so it rests under your chin, and not over your mouth. You watch him with droopy eyes as he does it all.

“Did so well today,” he murmurs. “But no overworking yourself so much next time, arasseo?”

You nod. “We came together again.”

He traces the dimple on your cheek caused by your contended smile. Finds himself smiling too. “That’s just how our bodies work together,” he tells you, hovering his thumb over your bloodied lip so as to not hurt you. “Can’t be helped.”

You nod again, warmth swarming in your chest. “I love it,” you admit. “I love you.”

Jeongguk presses a kiss into your hair. “No, I love you.”

“No.”

He shushes you. “Sleep well, baby,” he strokes you. Kisses you. Pets you. Can’t get enough. Hates to leave you. “My baby, my love, my girl.”

You hum. Sleep slinks you away to its land, smile remaining on your mouth.

Jeongguk returns to your living room and gets some cleaning supplies ready. Breaks a sweat making your dark green couch spotless. Takes a shower. Settles beside you on the bed. Cocoons you in his arms. Looks for you in dreamland.

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#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

2K notes · View notes

seelestia · 7 months ago

Text

⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

#hsr x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #dr ratio x reader #hsr fluff #seelestial.inks #reveriesincups

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