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boyfhee · 1 month ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦ㅤㅤ sim jaeyun

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝗦𝗖𝗥𝓲𝗣𝗧───𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌.

❪ 5O1O ❫ ｡ jake 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝑖𝑛 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌 ✿ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ! making out, explicit sex, fingering, oral ( f ! receiving ), car sex, jake is a little crazy

﹙◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠﹚ first and last time writing smut, this was so stressful >< please be nice. the plot is silly .. jake is silly erm anyway a big big thanks to casey my baef for reviewing this or i would have never posted. happy reading !

OO1 I WANT YOU

jake first bumped into you during one of the university competitions. you both were volunteering for different contests, running around, and he quite literally bumped into you. apologies spun in the air and you were quick to brush it off, maybe because you were busy. it occured to him that you are very pretty.

second time, it was at the congratulatory dinner with the winners exactly two weeks later. you were incredibly happy, pouring drinks and helping others and he was incredibly curious.

third time, well— you were already in his bed. wasted, tired, satisfied, and it’s a scene that’s burned into his mind.

numbers were exchanged, you both agreed on fridays. although, it barely only stayed limited to fridays. you started calling him after your long and tiring labs and he would want a taste of you after his football coach would get on his nerves again.

the first time he was in your bed would be today. he offered to drive you back and you pulled him closer by his collar in the elevator.

you’re pretty sure you’ve made a mess out of your apartment while bumping into things and making your way inside. it doesn’t really matter though. with jake, every mess leads to something good.

“oh, jake!” you moan as he thrusts into you, arms on either side of your head. sex with jake was incredible. he was caring, despite having his long dick in your tight hole, despite teasing you till he had his fill before filling you up.

he fucks you nice and gentle and his eyes never leave your face, wanting to see every single expression, to watch you as you let out the sweetest, most alluring sounds.

“you close, angel?” he grunts as he fucks you slow and deep, with so much passion. you are a wanton mess and he can only chuckle at the muddle he has made out of you, leaving you speechless and fucked to the point you are only nodding furiously, digging your nails into him.

he can see the sweat on your forehead, making your baby hairs stick to your skin. he can feel you clenching around him— you’re still so tight after he has fucked you so many times.

he kisses your neck, right above your pulse, whispering in his low yet sugary voice as he pulls all out before inching all the way inside the very next moment. “come for me, doll,”

your eyes flutter shut as he pushes into you deeper, one hand finding its way to your clit as he elevates your pleasure.

you look unreal with moonlight reflecting off your skin. he is thanking the universe for making the power go out tonight because you look breath taking, and you have taken his breath away.

his tongue runs over your lips and then into your mouth and your moans echo through his mouth when he begins to kiss you slowly. you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. “g-gonna cum, jaeyun. . .”

“i know,” he breaths, feeling himself getting closer. he can feel it more than before when he glazes down at your body, all weak and hot, all because of him. it’s like a switch turning on in you when he looks at you like you belong here, and you come undone.

he pulls out with a grunt, pumping his cock on top of you before coming all over your lower stomach. he makes such a mess, although he doubts you would want it otherwise. the sheets are not a problem, he would make sure to help you clean them as a fair apology— not because he fucked you so hard you made a mess all over your sheets, but because it would happen again.

sometimes, you wonder if this is how it is supposed to be.

he immediately grabs a towel to clean you up. his actions are slow and soft and you let out a relaxed sigh at the way he trails his lips over your belly, tasting the remnant of him on his tongue. he goes further down and kisses the insides of your thigh, knowing just now it gets you all bothered.

his eyes find yours from down below, and you wonder why he looks at you like that while he wonders if you are aware that you are otherworldly.

he senses your breath even out and you slip into slumber. you are always the first one to fall asleep and he thinks it’s adorable. he covers you with a duvet, gaze refusing to leave you— who looks so angelic in the after glow, so spent, so blissfully unaware of the things you make him feel.

he guesses he should sleep on the couch but then he decides to stay and watch you longer. your eyes flutter during sleep in the most hypnotising ways and you look like you should be given everything you ever desire. you deserve to have all your wishes fulfilled, to be happy every second of life and never feel lacking. if it is the stars and moon that you want— stars and moon shall you receive.

jake realises this is the first time he has watched you sleeping for so long. he realises how lucky he is to see you like this, bare, open, content. he realises you deserve the entire world instead of some convenient sex a few times a week— the thought leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

his heart beats faster and he can feel his fingers clenching involuntarily over the sheets. jake realises you deserve to be sought after every day, every hour, every minute, every second, and not only on days he wants pleasure.

he thinks he is losing his mind, but he feels like a sick bastard to reduce someone like you to just sex, when you deserve to be made love to with utmost care and passion.

a voice in his head tells him he is overthinking— you agreed to this, fully sober. but he still feels an ache in his heart when he thinks about the first time he had sex with you, and he winces at his sheer stupidity for landing you in this arrangement when you deserve better.

the soft rustling of sheets turns his attention to you as you turn, hugging the other pillow in your arms. your cheeks are squished against the soft material— so pure, innocent, like a fairy.

jake feels sick to his stomach.

OO2 IN WAYS MORE THAN ONE

jake feels like the worst man to walk on god’s green earth.

his head is spinning and he can’t stop thinking about the beautiful sounds you let out while he fucked you out of your head the other day— each memory making him feel guiltier.

it’s been three days since he has seen you.

three days of pushing and pulling, of his fingers hovering over your contact to give a call back, three days of holding at the single string of reason left in him.

he avoids walking by your classes, even taking the longer route in the scorching heat. he does a complete one-eighty when he sees you from across the cafeteria, making an excuse to his friends and hurrying out.

jake is absolutely going through it because you went to your birthday party and your pictures on instagram are turning him on. he almost considers unfollowing you but ends up liking your post instead.

he thinks about all the times he has fucked you and all the sounds you let out for him and almost jerks off in the washroom stalls— almost, because he slaps himself back to reality and goes back to having his face buried deep betweent the pages of his book, this time.

“i feel like shit,” is the first thing he says as soon as he plops down on the chair next to sunghoon, immediately going for the can of soda on the table.

“did something happen?” there’s curiosity, just not enough to make him look up.

but the sound of jake popping the can open catches his attention anyway, followed by a groan from the australian. “me and yn are fucking,”

a pause. sunghoon shrugs. he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

for one, you’re really beautiful. if he didn’t know any better, sunghoon would fuck you too out of sheer jealously. and two, jake goes off about you on a weekly basis and it doesn’t take a scientist to know that he might have a thing for you.

although, having sex with your crush on a friday to friday arrangement sounds way awkward for sunghoon’s liking. “oh? good for you,”

“no— no,” jake leans over the table, really engrossed in telling his friend why this is the biggest sin he could’ve ever committed. “this need to stop. she deserves something proper, more than just convenient sex,”

and the latter can only furrow his brows at his words. jake might just be the first person to complaint about this. “is it that serious?”

“it is! she deserves more— better,” he is firm, adamant. there’s an extra emphasis on the way he says better, and he says it so condensingly as if he knows he cannot provide you with that, or maybe he is too scared too.

“does she?” sunghoon scoffs. “or do you want more?”

more.

he does like the sound of that.

jake would never admit it to you, maybe it’s fear, or maybe he doesn’t want to look like a loser in front of you.

he thinks you look the prettiest when you’re basking in the afterglow, hair sprawled over his pillows. when your lips are swollen from all the kissing, when you’re exhausted and too far ruined for another round— jake thinks you might be an angel.

when you asked him if you could stay over for the first time, he wondered if that was even conventional. is that a part of this arrangement? but he ignores that question, immediately grabbing a tshirt for you from his cupboard.

and now on nights you stay over, he stays awake fixing your blanket to make sure you aren’t cold. he can’t sleep— his heartbeat is way too loud on his ears. on nights like those, he fights back the urge to brush his knuckles over the soft skin of your cheek, to gently run his fingers through your hair and kiss you good night on the forehead.

on nights like those, jake wishes there was something more; but then the sun rises and you are gone— the cycle continues.

sunghoon stares at him from his peripheral. watching his friend zone out occasionally isn’t really new, and he taps his pen on the table to get him out of the trance. “i asked you a question,”

“oh, right— uh,” there’s hesitation, jake is thinking. “i’ll see you later,” and then he scurries off out of the study room with a newly found realisation.

sim jaeyun is terrible, terrible at self control.

it’s no news, just a touch from you gets him worked up. it’s a doucious sin, neither of you mind it. study sessions are an excuse, if anything. jake knows you aren’t any better. you can’t wait until fridays and honestly— he wouldn’t mind eating you out any day despite trying to be the voice of reason between you two. but jake, jaeyun, the way you say it, so sweet and breathlessly, the way you chant his name when he has you spread out on the farthest table in the library, when he’s pounding into you and you’re biting your lips to muffle any sounds— it’s heaven.

but back to him and his self control, absolutely terrible.

jake turns like a firefly to the light when he hears your voice. you have him enchanted, like a moth to a flame. he sees you walk out of your lecture hall and he is gone, tranced.

you look like an angel, you are an angel, irrevocably so. maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t seen you in four days— his fault for avoiding you and now it’s coming back to bite him— but you look so incredible.

“hi, jake,” he thinks you are calling his name or maybe, it’s just his mind playing games, until you wave your hand in front of his face and bring him back to reality.

“hi,” he huffs, already breathless by the sight of you in your outfit. he doesn’t think he has seen you in that before and he is thanking every deity up there for letting him witness the sight in front of him.

“you good?” you raise your brows, you words once again get him out of his trail of thoughts. your voice is the only thing grounding him to reality and the sight of you is making him lose his mind— it’s everything that’s making him so crazy.

“yeah, very,” and he is ogling you in that outfit, undressing you with his eyes and barely even trying to hide it. god, he can feel himself getting hard just by looking at you. “you don’t know what seeing you in that does to me,”

he says it like a sinful secret, you’d be lying if it doesn’t rouse you a little. his gaze alone does the magic, already having your mind visiting places that would be deemed inappropriate by the code of conduct of your university.

“is that your way of saying i look beautiful?” you don’t let up. god, you are the death of him, looking him in the eyes with dirtiest innuendos, and jake would gladly die in your arms.

“yes. you look so beautiful,” he runs his eyes over the empty hallways before whispering against the shell of your ear. “it’s taking everything in me to not rip that off you,”

and jake doesn’t waste another second before pulling you inside the janitor’s room with him. he is quick with his hands, pushing you up against the door before kissing you hungrily.

it’s insanity how he works you up easily, like he knows you inch by inch. what you like and what you don’t— like having him kiss you messily while grinding his hips against yours— an action that takes you to heaven and back.

he feels your fingers trace over the back of his neck, making him shudder, and he is deliberately letting out a long exhale against your ear. he knows you are impatient, gosh, you always are, despite trying to be so calm and composed, only to be reduced to a puddle by just a few nips and kisses.

“so fucking pretty—” he whispers, pressing kisses along your cheeks, trailing them down to the corner of your lips just so he can hear how adorably you whine when he stops short.

he knows he is dragging this out, it’s evil but he loves it when you’re needy. he plants open mouth kisses against the column of your neck while undoing the buttons of your blouse. and he does it exactly the way that would get you worked up— slow, deliberate, teasing as his fingers brush over your breasts.

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin while his hand pushes down your bra and trails down to your breasts as his thumb starts to circle your nipple. you clutch onto him, barely able to speak anything except. “jaeyun,”

“yeah,” he responds, grinning against your neck. he loves the way you say his name, like a prayer, like your life depends on it. “got a class after this, pretty?”

you can barely make out his words, only focusing on the way he slides his hand under your trousers, feeling the damp spot on your panties before pushing the flimsy cloth aside.

“yes, but it’s— oh, jake,” your words are cut short by a gasp when his finger finds your clit, and he grins at how you spread your legs instinctively.

“gotta keep that in mind,” he mumbles before capturing your lips in a rough kiss, half because he loves the feeling of his lips against yours, half because you do have a tendency to get loud when he’s working you out with his fingers.

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves, barely giving you what you want. he drinks in every single moan and whimper that dances off your lips while your eyes are closed in bliss— he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.

your voice is honeyed— needy and saccharine and breathe— and it has his mind fogging up in admiration. your head is thrown back against the door while he continues his ministrations, flicking your clit. jake could die happily in this very moment and he would have no complaints.

this is everything he desires for yet fears, just being with you makes his heart race in inexplicable ways. the way you’re drowning in pleasure and need, so lovely— it breaks his heart knowing this is only about sex.

his mind registers your moan when he sweeps his index finger across your clit but he is far too lost in his head to focus on anything. you deserved to be treasured, to be loved, like the precious thing that you are. you whine and roll your hips to meet his hand, eager for more, only for him to rip his fingers out.

“jake—” you’re pleading nonsense while clinging to him, but he is already mumbling apologies and fixing your outfit like this was never meant to happen.

“i’m sorry,” there’s a crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that paints confusion all over your face.

“what?” you are still out of breath and in disbelief, not sure if it’s because of his words or because he left you undone for the first time in three weeks.

and jake, hell, he sees the desperation in your eyes. he knows you need him; and he can give in with the way his cock is straining inside his pants but the ache in his chest is far more and worse.

he knows you deserve to be worshiped all over, to be kissed over your skin and told sweet nothings, to have someone who says your name like a chant. you deserve the entire world, instead of some weekly sex that you both are hiding from the entire world like a sin.

so, jake simply walks out of the door once he has fixed your clothes, saying just three words that leave you perplexed. “you deserve better,”

OO3 IN ALL WAYS THAT MATTER

i’m sorry.

you scoff to yourself.

you deserve better.

and you do it again, this time in disbelief. you flip the pen in your hands, barely paying attention to the material in front of you. for a second, you wonder if this was a joke, although nothing about it was funny. especially now the way jake left you high and dry in the janitor’s room a few days ago.

maybe he is conveniently and very politely trying to tell you that he doesn’t want to have sex with you anymore, hoping you aren’t offended— you do feel quite offended, actually.

jake had no complaints before this and you certainly don’t either.

you both work together just fine, having flexible schedules, communicating actively— well, except now— great in bed ( you would give yourself that. ) you don’t know when you grew a habit of sleeping over at his place, maybe it was when you started waking to the fragrance of freshly prepared food.

you don’t even know if this was a part of the deal. ‘i can’t leave you starving after last night,’ he what he would say as an excuse. it was awkward at first, then you started to find it fun, except when you two almost missed a test because you both got a little too busy in the kitchen.

he is handsome, sweet, kind, and generous with aftercare. he treats you like porcelain after ravishing you all night, like you’re something precious. he is good with his fingers and really fucking great with his mouth. it would be greedy to ask for anything more than having his face buried between your thighs on a weekly basis.

you try to think what you could have done wrong, only to end up with your hands devoid of an answer. you sometimes catch his eyes while passing by his lecture halls— he sits in the front— you don’t understand why he looks at you so much yearning while also running away from you.

no matter which way you think, you can’t find a rational explanation for everything he said to you three days ago.

you recognise jake’s perfume like the back of your hand. it’s woody with oud, oddly fitting for him. sometimes, you wake up with his scent lingering on your skin and it provides you a weird sense of comfort. your eyes follow his movements as he walks inside the library.

you almost wait for him to notice you and say something but he doesn’t. you wonder if he is ignoring you and end up calling out to him yourself. “fancy seeing you here,”

“oh, hi,” and he quite literally freezes at your voice. his heart only beats faster the longer he stares at you. you are angry, a little hurt, he can see it in your eyes. i’m sorry, he wants to say, but he chickens out like usual. “i’ll just— ”

“you’re avoiding me,” you retort, not wanting him to leave you hanging like the last time.

“i’m not—” and he defends himself, only to be cut off by your sharp words.

“stop lying, jake,” he figures that you are really mad, more than he expected you to be.and you wonder if this is even that serious— you two are literally just fuck buddies, but you still find yourself continuing. “you’re ignoring my calls and not even replying to my texts,”

an eerie silence follows. you’ve barely known him for a couple of weeks and can still tell that this is not jake— quiet, lost, speechless, with a gaze that meets everything but your eyes.

“sorry,” is all he is able to say. he does feel guilty. heck, more than he did while trying to fuck you in the janitor’s room. jake feels like the worst guy ever, all because of this stupid situation he got you both into.

it’s stupid, you conclude. you don’t even know what you’re upset at. if it’s his words from that day, his unexpected apology or the fact that he walked out on you in the middle of whatever you were doing, without explanation. “if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, that’s fine—”

“i never said that,” his voice is firm and his next words are determined, like they’re the only ones that matter. “i just said you deserve more,”

“but i am content with this!” you almost want to throw something. jake is refusing to have sex with you because he thinks you deserve better— it feels straight out a poorly written script of a movie. “i’m happy with what we have, i don’t want to be greedy,”

“no, you should be greedy,” he is adamant, shaking his head and all. “you’re amazing— wonderful, you deserve better than some empty sex every week,”

no, you can’t be stupid— he is.

it would be the first time in the history of any friends with benefits arrangement that this is happening. you realise that you can go on for hours about how you are happy with him fucking you every week and he would still refuse respectfully, telling you that you deserve better.

you don’t even think you are mad anymore, just amused. despite his serious voice, you find yourself biting back a giggle at his slightly red face. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed, actually frowning and fighting for your supposed loss in this arrangement which was mutually agreed upon.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d assume this is your bad attempt at flirting,” you manage to chuckle and he is already pulling out a chair next to you.

it’s like his breath gets caught up in his throat and he is tapping his finger on the table just as fast as his heartbeat. “what if it is?” maybe, he is just taking your chances, maybe he’ll end up making a fool out of himself— it doesn’t matter anymore.

“jaeyun,” you whine, your fingers pulling on his soft locks when he draws his finger inside your wet hole, almost chuckling as you arch your back off the seat.

“didn’t even do much yet,” he scoffs mockingly, head slanting forward until you could feel his breath against your folds. “you’re already that fucked out?”

it’s your fault, clearly.

you shouldn’t have tried arguing with jake in the middle of library, definitely shouldn’t have tried to rile him up by trying to stroke him through his pants while he was trying to focus on his studies so desperately.

you knew acting up would get you in trouble and you have quite literally landed in the hands of trouble itself— in the backseat of his car with your legs spread open— although, you doubt you would have it any other way.

“oh, shut up—” you huff, still having a little bit of attitude and honestly, jake finds it cute, but so is everything else about you.

you make a throaty cry when he adds another finger, closing your doused eyes when he places a tender kiss on your clit. he’s doing it with practiced ease, knowing you inside-out like anyone else. you’re breathing in deep and exhaling sharply while he strokes your sloppy wet cunt with the tip of his tongue.

he hums satisfactorily at how good you taste. it’s like drugs and he is addicted.

“jake,” you let out a whine, riddled with impatience. “please,”

sometimes, you ask yourself why you are unable to say anything except his name and desperate plea when he has you like this. as if on cue, he presses a few feather light kisses over your dripping folds and hooks his hand under your thighs to pull you closer, already aligning himself at your entrance.

“you’re so beautiful,” he teases his tip at your entrance, adoring your chest with light kisses that are ever so gentle. “so, so, precious,”

you wrap your arms around his neck almost like you don’t want to let him go. he is teasing you and it’s too good and too painful, all at once, and you can only let out a breathy “jake—”

“i want you so bad, baby,” and jake would rather die than keep you waiting. so, he inches into you slowly, head finding your neck instantly as you squeeze him tighter than the last time he fucked you. “in ways more than one,” he whispers a breathy confession, pressing his nose against the side of your neck. “in all ways that matter,”

he wonders if you realise that your heartbeats are in sync.

he lets out a soft groan, drawn and breathy as your walls squeeze around him with each thrust. you whimper when he hits a certain spot and he only lets out a low moan when you suck him deeper.

“fuck—right there, jaeyun!” you’re breathing much more erratic now, raising your hips to meet his. and jake wonders if you know how you get him going when you call him that.

it’s just his name, someone would argue, but the way you say it, so sweet and desperate, coated in your lovely voice.. he likes how it rolls off your tongue. you say it like it’s your right and it is— he is your jaeyun.

he speeds up his thrusts when he feels you getting closer. he pulls away from your neck and loses himself in how ethereal you look, the glow of your face surpassing the stars.

you tug him by his hair pull him into a kiss. he kisses you carefully, unlike his hips pounding into you. his lips move with tenderness, with adoration, and he pulls back to look into your eyes. “go on a date with me, darling,”

“what?” you’re not quite sure if you heard that correctly. you could very well be out of your mind, considering how he is fucking you brainless.

honestly, you can barely think about anything, too busy thinking about how good his cock feels inside you, the way he is moving. he angles his hips better, just the way it would make you come, and you let out a cry.

“i want to give you— fuck —better,” you know it just by his voice that he is close, with the way he moves inside you so desperately. “andnif we’re gonna keep fucking, you have to go on a date with me first,”

and it makes you laugh at how he is so determined to ask you out even in this state, when either of you can barely think, only breathing and groaning heavily. your walls spasm around him as you let go with a whine and he follows with a loud grunt. he presses his forehead against yours, continuing to slam his hips into you and fucking you both through the orgasm.

he slumps on top of you when you both finish, catching his breath. his eyes are closed and he plants a kiss on your temple when he feels you nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

“what if it doesn’t work out?” you finally manage to whisper after a while, not sure if you are scared or just stating a possibility.

but jake sees right through you, as always, pressing soft, gentle kisses on your cheeks with the sweetest smile. “not a chance,”

#—approved.#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enha x reader #jake #jake smut #jake x reader #jake fluff #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jake

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thalwri · 10 days ago

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PERFECT FIT!

STARRING: xavier x reader

synopsis: it's rare for xavier to piss you off– so when he figures out that he's gotten you in a bad mood, he'll do exactly what he knows makes you feel better. and he'd do it anywhere and anytime just to make you happy.

warnings: porn with little plot, public sex, fucking in a fitting room, almost getting caught, mirror sex, oral (m! receiving), multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, squirting.

wc: 3,8k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You're angry. You are so angry at Xavier.

And you have every reason to be. One of his naps fell turned into a deep comatose state, making you miss the movie you had promised each other you'd watch at the cinema.

Now that you've lost that opportunity and are now at risk of spoilers from every single one of your friends, Xavier rushed to drag you to the nearest store to buy you as many cute clothes as possible.

But that isn't enough for you, is it?

Xavier knows that well about you. Which is why he knows the best solution for this very problem is to have his cock nice and deep inside you until you cream around him.

What's a better place to do that than the fitting room?

"You look really good in this," His voice sends shivers down your spine like hot wire to the touch. His hands have already started massaging your curves, tongue feeling the strap of your lacy bra. His teeth grip the strap, slowly raising it before releasing it to hit your shoulder with a soft snap!

"You look good in anything really." Your eyes flutter shut from his sheer praise, melting into his touch and devotion.

He decided to take you to a lingerie store just to have you try on things he believes you'd look good in. And fuck, was he correct.

You're currently in a light blue lace set embroidered with stars and silk ribbons, designed to be taken apart bit by bit– or not at all. You have to admit Xavier has a good eye. The way it hugs your curves and accentuates your beauty is riveting– arousing even.

You should be angry with him. Stubbornly unhappy, just enough to give him the silent treatment for the entire day while he grovels his way to get you to forgive him.

Buying pretty clothes, reserving dinner at your favourite restaurant, winning limited edition plushies for you, and all the other adorable acts he performed for the sake of your forgiveness isn't going to work.

"You can't be mad at me forever." His lips finally find your neck and press gentle, almost feathery, kisses on your skin while his eyes remained on yours through your reflection in the mirror.

"I think I can." Your attempt to sound angry just comes out as a weakened huff. Xavier smiles into your neck, widening his lips to suckle light bruises into your flesh.

"Really?" The motion of his tongue pressing down on your neck while he sucks your skin heats up your core. Any more of that and that pretty lingerie will be soaked.

"Really."

That is his full intention. He's going to buy it anyway whether it's soaked, ripped apart, or covered in cum.

His cock is throbbing in his pants, practically straining against the fabric. He knows you can feel it too, just from how close you are to each other. The curve of your ass is deliciously welded with his hips and the way his length is practically between each cheek makes him flush red.

"You know we never argue." Xavier mutters. He presses his clothed length into you, emphasising his desire for you. "You also know you don't like staying angry for long."

Oh, your boyfriend truly has a way with his words.

You find yourself leaning further into his touch, your body practically melting to putty from his gentle ministrations. His hand wanders lower and lower from your shoulders and down, cupping your mounds in his hands to massage and caress.

Eyes closed and lips parted, Xavier relishes in how his touch can simply melt you— and him by extension. You both know the risk considering you’re in a very very public space. A fitting room, mind you.

In one of those grand stores with exuberantly expensive clothes and an aesthetic that probably costs more in terms of design than the clothing itself. The fitting room was no less extravagant. Mirrors reaching the ceiling with warm lights stored in the glass to brighten your best areas. The little seat was velvet and comfortable enough to sleep on. And your boyfriend was doing all this just so you wouldn’t be mad at him. It was working.

Anyone could walk by and anyone could hear the noises that will definitely slip straight through the curtains of the fitting room. But you could care less.

He had already calmed you down with his kisses and soothed your fleeting pettiness. All you need is him. And you know he needs you too.

"I should show you how mad I am, don't you think?" You huff, maintaining your little act. Your hand rubs his bulge, instantly getting wet from just how hard he is for you.

"Probably should." Xavier agrees, almost breathless from your touch. He could be drooling too. His eyes intensely watch you turn to face him, undoing the knot of his drawstrings to pull his sweatpants down until they're off.

His boxers follow the same path until they end up on the hooks with. the rest of your clothes. His length is hard and dripping with precum already, bouncing in the air for you to admire.

"Fuck this act." You muttered, almost entranced by how his cock feels so heavy and hot in your hand. "I want you."

"I'm right here for you to have me."

You slowly sink to your knees, not wasting time to kiss your way up his length until your lips sucked in his tip– slowly and deeply hollowing your cheeks for him to feel just how tight you're going to suck and torture him.

"O-Oh, baby." Xavier exhales, leaning back to watch you suck him in deep.

Your legs slowly spread open in a squat to show your reflection of your dripping hole exposed through the open crotch of your panties. Of course Xavier chose this pair. He knows you a bit too well for his own good. Set pieces like these are perfect for when you feel needy and don't want to ruin another pair of panties.

You bob your head as you guide his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth, stroking whatever your throat hasn't warmed up to take yet. Every so often you glance up to see your boyfriend's face more flushed every time, lips parted and slick from how many times he's licked them and his eyes glazed over with desire.

It's always so quick for things to get extra wet and sloppy when you're slurping his cock. The deeper you go, the wetter things get, and you're more than happy to feel it drip down and you slowly bring yourself to deepthroat him.

The image is so deliciously lewd, the way you can see the mix of precum and your own spit thicken, slowly dribbling down your chin to your cleavage with excess bits dripping on the floor. The position's almost pornographic, knees spread wide enough for your fingers to drill your weeping hole, collarbones and sweet tits shining from all that slick falling onto your skin. The sight of it alone gets you rudely wetter and wetter. Fuck, it's even dripping from your hands as your fingers curve in your pussy knuckle deep.

You slither and tease the underside of his throbbing cock with your drooling tongue. You stroke and stroke what your mouth doesn't take, massaging his shaft as your hand slowly carries your spit-precum slick from your lips to the soft white tufts of hair at his base until it's drenched and sticky with your slick.

Your gurgles echo around the small room in harmony with Xavier's hushed moans muffled into the sleeve of his hoodie. If anything, you can only blame him for making you feel so lewd like this.

"Look at you," He grips your hair as his hips begin to grind into your mouth. "Fuck, taking my cock so well. Your sweet pussy's making such a mess too– she must want to be fucked good."

You can only hum in response, voice gargling as your tongue swipes and slurps on his length. You tease your clit using your slick from your exposed cunt to make everything deliciously sensitive and wet.

You pull your head back just enough to suckle on his throbbing cockhead, sliding your tongue up and down, up and down on his slit until he shivers. His grip on your hair tightens in desperation to hide his sweet, heavenly moans.

"Keep doing that and– fuck– I'll–"

You don't even get to hear what he says when his hand change grip and hold you on either side of your head. His warm palms cover your ears completely to catch you off guard before he slides in nice and fucking deeep into your mouth until your nose tickles his trimmed hairs.

The shock alone sends tingles down your spine intense enough to make your cunt leak even more.

"Don't be surprised, starlight." Xavier grins in a hushed tone, keeping your head secure in place to feel you squeezing around him. His grip softens just to make sure you can breathe through your nose. "You love when I do this."

And you fucking loved it. It was arousing. Riveting. Just giving your boyfriend the best head known to man would make you cum alone. And the same applied to him– that freaky munch.

Xavier sinks his cock into your throat over and over, making sure his leaky tip pokes your dangling uvula every damn time. You do your best not to gag on his length, slobbering on him and loosening your jaw to take him. The slick noises make it all the more exhilarating, especially when hearing the occasional steps from just outside the fitting room.

Who knows what they could be hearing? You practically gagging on his cock? His poorly silenced moans and groans? Your fingers tending to your pussy and the loud shlick noises accompanying the gurgles from your mouth? Probably all of it. And that makes it even better.

The stimulation and the thrill becomes almost too much for you, bringing your legs to a tremble signifying your rapidly impending climax. Looks like Xavier noticed too when he gently guides your head away from his cock, making you whine in need.

You watch Xavier lean against the wall, hair damp from sweat and face completely flushed pink. Your legs are burning from the position you're in but that doesn't stop you from drilling your fingers into your cunt while your other hand fondles your breasts through the lace.

The sight of you so desperately touching yourself is so deliciously lewd it makes his cock visibly twitch. An amalgam of precum and spit drips from his tip right onto your cleavage. It makes you look both beautiful and sultry– such an erotic duality.

"Fuck, starlight." He reaches to lift you into his arms, to give your pure legs a break. "Let me take care 'f you."

He brings you into his lewd embrace, tasting his precum as he sucks your tongue into his mouth. It's passionate, it's starved, it devours you both as you consume each other with the desire for more. Your lips smack as they collide, loudly bouncing off the mirrored walls for eavesdroppers to hear.

Xavier's hand curves around your nape, his thumb tracing over the bump of your Adam's apple while the other fondles the soft flesh of your ass before giving it a soft smack!

You gasp into his lips, granting him further access for his tongue to explore your mouth, tasting every bit of you and not giving a flying fuck if he'd end up licking your teeth– which he did.

Between every kiss, you'd both suck in as much air as possible all while whispering "Fuck," or "Shit, darling," or other profane yet endearingly debauched words of adoration. Your hands wandered lower and lower until they found his still hard cock, and his reached your pussy. You didn't spare a second thought to immediately touch and tease, stroke and finger just to satiate your desire for each other.

"Want you in me," You huffed into his mouth, sinking your teeth into his upper lip as his fingers curled deep inside you. "Put it in, Xav."

"But I'm already inside." He pouted in that stupidly cute and deceiving tone.

"Don't piss me off." You hiss, squeezing his shaft tight in your grip enough for him to moan loud enough for someone to hear. His fingers only go harder and faster, clearly intending to get you to cum before he does.

"Yeah?" His lips found your neck, pressing open mouth kisses onto your skin to mark you all over again and slurp the remaining slick from you. "Want me to fuck you good? While all these people could hear us?"

He grinds his hips up to your core, ensuring his cockhead bumps your swollen clit every time. The delicious mind-numbing sensation of him sucking on your neck along with your slow grinds throw your critical thinking out the window. And his fingers? Fuck, that's another story.

The thought of how naughty this was sent you into a sharp, hot climax. Your eyes are greeted with orgasmic stars as they roll back deep into your skull. Electric currents rush up your spine from your core bringing your legs to a shake. It takes so much effort for you to hold back as much of your noises as possible, but part of you doesn't want to.

Part of you wants the world to know that you're losing yourself on your boyfriend's fingers. You both love this shit, you freaks. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity. And with his teasing, you might as well feed your desires like adding fuel to fire.

"Mhm, yeah." You babble as your hand strokes his cock to drive him mindless too. "Let's do it 'til the windows fog." You peck his jaw until you reach his earlobe. "Or better yet..." Your tongue slithers around his ear, pulling out the cutest whimpers you relish in. "We go at it until the mirrors are covered in cum."

Xavier groans at the thought, vividly seeing his cock slide out your cunt to paint the mirrors in his seed and then make you squirt on it just moments later. Just covering the walls and the floor with your joint lewd slick with the sole intention to please each other until it's too much to want more.

"So vulgar," He guides you to hover over his lap as he sits on the velvet stool, aligning his cock with your puckering pussy. He glances at your reflection, watching his cock slowly sink deeper and deeper until your cunt swallows him full.

You both moan once you settle in that deliciously tight grip, his arms wrap around your waist and squeeze to keep him from cumming on the spot.

"Don't move, baby, don't–" But just your walls tightening around him send ropes of hot cum shooting into you.

"Fuuuuck." He whines into your ear. His hips buck up into yours out of instinct to fuck it deeper into you. "So fuckin' tight you made me cum jus' like that."

You can't help but grin at the sight of him falling apart just from being inside you. Your hips sway back and forth, allowing his cum to cover your walls and work as extra lubrication for you to seamlessly bounce on his throbbing cock.

"Baby– h-hold on–" Xavier's voice hitches as you raise your hips just high enough for his bulbous tip to be the only thing in your cunt before you drop back down onto him. A loud clap echoes from your skin colliding, almost like a coat hanger falling to the floor.

"Is everything alright in there?" A voice from the outside knocks you both back into your senses. "I heard some noise, are you alright?"

You glance at Xavier through the mirror, watching panic slowly rise in his otherwise flustered face. You both find your lips spreading into grins as your hips move in tandem.

"Hello?" The clerk calls from the other side of the curtain as his cock drills deep into you. Xavier's hands catch your soft ass with every bounce, slowing you down before you reach his lap to buffer the noice– but that doesn't stop the slick, squelches.

"If there is something wrong, I'll be stepping inside–"

"No need!" You half-moan half-croon at the clerk while you bounce faster on his cock. Soft plap plap plap sounds grow louder and louder as the thrill sinks into your bones. Xavier merely tilts his head to watch your breasts bounce in the confines of your bra, silently hinting for you to keep talking. "Just– mmh! J-Just dropped a coat hanger!"

The silence from the clerk makes your heart thump against your chest. "Alright then," The clerk finally speaks, with clear suspicion in her voice. "Call if you need assistance."

Her footsteps grow quieter with each second before silence (apart from the wet claps of you ministrations) returns. Xavier gently pats your ass teasingly.

"Way to save our asses." He pecks your nape, before thrusting into you hard. "All while that tight cunt of yours kept squeezing on me. All while we kept going faster and faster. Felt so good, so exciting to do that while that clerk was just outside."

His hands squeeze your tits, watching his cock disappear in your cunt and grind hard like he's in rut while his sacks smack your pelvis with each clap of skin. "Oh my fucking– y-yes Xavier, just like that." our moans, although hushed, reach higher pitches and turn into desperate whimpers.

"Like this?" His fingers find your clit, rubbing circles onto your sensitive nub.

You nod feverishly, eyes crossing at the dual stimulation. His cock drags up and down your gummy walls so good that you can almost feel each vein. He's so devoted with how you take each other, ensuring you feel good while you fuck each other senseless.

"Look at us, baby." Xavier muses, turning your head to the mirror in front of you. The sight of your cum mixing and forming a white ring around his base drives you insane. It leaks all the way down his sacks and onto the velvet chair, marking the room in your lewd act of love.

"So full." He pulls you up, watching his thick length appear and slams you back down into him, plugging you completely.

He can feel himself getting close, just from how harsh he was throbbing inside you and how his sacks tighten visibly, so full of cum just waiting to stuff you to the brim.

You're just as close too, feeling your walls pulse and tighten more than ever, your clit tingles from his sacks gently smacking it every time you bounce on him.

" 'm close, Xav," You whine, feeling your legs tremble from all that bouncing. "Fuck, 'm so close, wanna cum around you so bad–"

"Me too, baby." His lips press hot kisses onto your back and pushes you down for you to grind on each other. "Hold on." He's still rutting his cock into you but he raises your legs, hooking your knees with his elbows and gently pushes your head down with his hands on your nape.

"Xavier–" You choke on your own moans just from how lewd the position is.

"Mhm?" His grin is so damn mean. He knows exactly what he's doing, fucking you so good like this. This might become your next favourite position.

Your tits are squished so tightly together that your nipples poke out of the bra. The fabric of the panties you're wearing are soaked from all the wetness leaking out the open crotch exposing your cunt. Just how are you supposed to pay for it when it's soaked completely?

Fuck, does that even matter when he's in you so good?

"Take a glance, baby." He nudges your head down to watch just how quick and hard he's pounding into you. The way it disappears completely and comes out glistening with your juices drives you insane.

His cock feels so much deeper in that angle, now fucking into your relentlessly while giving your poor legs a rest. You mewl at the penetration alone, feeling like prey to his hunt, restrained in his tight grip and fucked good and senseless.

Fwop fwop fwop and plap plap plap blurs into the same noise, both wet and so arousing. You can barely see each other from how fogged the mirrors are.

"That's it– that's it, I'm gonna stuff you full, baby." Xavier's whisper-rambling now, eyes glued completely on you despite the blur of the fog. He's so enchanted you can feel his cock throb and twitch inside you.

"Fuck– yes, stuff me, baby, fill me!"

And that's all he needs to hear.

With one more sharp thrust, you feel thick strings of his seed fill you up good and that brings you to cum with him. Your walls flutter tight around him, pulsating as you fall apart on each other. Xavier keeps rutting into you giving you all the cum his sacks can make while whimpering your name so sweetly into your ear.

Your walls keep squeezing on him, sucking more and more cum out of him and deep into your cunt.

"Baby– you're milking me dry." Xavier whines as if he isn't the reason you're milking him. Somehow – you're too fucked out to think about the logic – a hand manages to reach your clit to give you extra stimulation while fucking you through your orgasm.

"Too much, Xavier!" You whine through your hushed moans. The squelches and claps only grow louder as you feel your second climax coming. Only this time, it's more intense.

Just a few more thrusts are all it takes for Xavier to take you over the ledge, making your eyes cross as your legs stretch out and tremble from the delicious stimulation.

You cum so hard that your vision goes white, toes curling from the desire shaking in your core. You cunt tightens around his cock as you tense again, spurting clear liquid all over the mirror and each other.

"F-fuck–" Xavier whimpered, feeling the last of his cum spurt out of him and leak out. The sight alone is so lewd that you'd both be willing to go for another round if you weren't at risk of the clerk coming back to check on you.

It takes minutes for you to come down from your highs, relishing in the aftertaste of fucking each other borderline stupid.

Xavier presses gentle kisses onto your skin, whispering praises with each peck. "D'you forgive me?"

Too exhausted to speak, you weakly nod and lean into his kisses. You glance at your reflection and instantly remember your lingerie – which you were trying on – is completely soaked.

"Xavier."

"Mhm."

"How are we going to pay for this?"

"I'll handle it, don't worry." He drowsily hummed, pecking up your neck until he reached your cheek. "If it means I get to see you happy, I'll do this and more."

a/n: i think i'm going to go down a xavier rabbit hole.

#xavier lads #xavier smut #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #lads #lads shen xinghui #love and deepspace x reader #lnds smut #lnds xavier #l&ds smut #✧.* thalwri #✧.* thalwri works

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4ttack-ur-heart · 4 months ago

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Dr. Zayne will handle it.

Pairings: Zayne x afab! Reader

Summary: Zayne finds out your gyno appointment is going to be with a male doctor and he’s less than happy about it.

Warnings: not really any just Zayne being jealous yet respectful, idk if I wrote him ooc or not… but it’s a learning experience lol.

Ps- it’s a lil shorter than what I normally write but I have so many ideas brewing.

————

Zayne’s fingers type quickly on his laptop, a warm cup of tea steeping next to him. His glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose with the lenses reflecting reports and patient files. He had promised only an hour of working in his home office while you stayed with him.

He could hear your voice in the main room arguing with whomever you spoke with. After your tone sharpened slightly, he decided to close his computer, remove his glasses, and see what was happening.

“No, I’ve been waiting for this appointment for two months! There has to be something else you can do.” You plead with frustration.

Zayne raises a brow, wondering what kind of appointment has you so stirred up. He watches as you angrily huff and say goodbye before ending the call. Your phone is tossed to the couch carelessly and you rub your face in your hands.

He carefully comes up behind you, his large hands covering your shoulders and the pads of his thumbs gently massage the tissue.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Concern is evident in his voice.

You nod and turn around to face him. “Yeah, just my stupid gynecologist.”

Zayne remains quiet, obviously waiting for you to continue.

“I’ve been trying to see this specific doctor because the association recommended her, but they just called me and said they overbooked her for this month and she won't be able to see me."

“Why does the association even have a recommended gynecologist?”

His questions hung in the air for a few moments while you scooped up your phone from the couch.

“I guess Dr. Lina is the best in her field. Kinda like how you’re the best cardiologist- most hunters try to see you instead of anyone else for heart issues. I guess it’s the same for her, and since a lot of hunters are women, the association trusts her to handle any issues for us.”

Zayne hums in understanding and places a tender kiss on your temple, his hand stroking your back to relax you. “So, what are you required to do now?”

You let out a sigh, “They can either reschedule me a month from my original appointment or I have to see the other gynecologist that the association recommended… who’s a guy.”

He tenses up and his hand stops moving.

Zayne maintained a high level of professionalism in his interactions with female patients. He recognized that the primary objective of doctors, including himself, is to assist individuals in need. Nevertheless, he experienced a sense of jealousy at the chance of another man observing you in a vulnerable situation.

“And are you comfortable with that?” His voice grows more cold and tense.

You pull your lip that you were chewing on from between your teeth, “Not really… that’s why I was waiting for Dr. Lina. If I’m not cleared soon, then I’ll have to be put on desk duty until I am.”

The foreboding future of being limited to desk duty when you weren't even physically injured was sure to make you go crazy. It was one of the most frustrating things about being a hunter- forget the wanderers, no, it was staying on top of all the appointments to ensure you were completely healthy. Dental appointments, eye exams, physicals, and now gynecology.

“I’ll miss my deadline if I wait for her,” frowning, you collapse onto the sofa in defeat. “Hello desk duty for the next month.”

You glance up at Zayne, searching for a hint of his thoughts on the situation, but he simply exhales through his nose, a silent acknowledgment of your frustration. He settles beside you, and you allow yourself to rest against his chest, feeling the cool steadiness of him. As you roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all, you pull out your phone to dial the clinic once more. Unbeknownst to you, Zayne’s gaze is intently fixed on the screen, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“I’ll just book with that other doctor,” you say dejectedly.

Zayne's hand clamps down on your wrist with a surprising intensity, preventing you from dialing the number. Shock floods your senses, and as your gaze meets his, you can't help but notice the piercing coldness in his green eyes. The tension in the air thickens, making it clear that this moment is more weighted than you had anticipated.

“Zayne?”

You look back to his hand locked onto your wrist. Little white snowflakes flurry from his arm, and from that, you can tell the doctor is having an internal battle with his emotions.

“Forgive me for my impracticality, but I don’t think I’m comfortable with you seeing a male gynecologist.” You don’t fail to notice the way his voice was now lowered and a chill ran through your body.

The flurry of snowflakes burst from his hand in quicker movements at your words and he quickly lets go of you.

“My, my, is Dr. Zayne… jealous?”

“I don’t see why I cannot clear you for this, I am your primary doctor after all.”

Aww, your snowman was jealous. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“Zayne, honey,” you lock your fingers with his, noting the way the snowflakes start to calm down. “As much as I would prefer you to do it over anyone else, the association wants someone specialized in that field.”

Zayne furrows his brow, a wave of frustration washing over him. He knows deep down that he lacks the authority to grant you the necessary clearance, and the thought that another man will see you exposed, no matter how justified it may be for medical reasons, angers him even more. The tension in the room thickens as he rises abruptly from the sofa, his movements are almost forceful as he unintentionally nudges you aside in his haste, caught between concern for your well-being and the turmoil within himself.

“Don’t make the appointment.”

And with that, he leaves the room.

"Zayne!" You call out, but the sound of his office door shutting was all you received in response.

—————-

About an hour ticks by and you never leave the couch, instead just opting to watch some soap opera to pass the time with a throw blanket covering your body as the rain pelts against the windows.

You could faintly hear Zayne's muffled voice speaking to someone over the phone. You didn't want to disturb him, understanding how difficult it is for him to express his emotions. If he needed some time alone, you would give him that space.

By the time the door opens, the main character is already in tears again for the umpteenth time. He stands over you and you turn off the show.

In the stillness, you can sense his struggle to meet your gaze, while your eyes remain locked on his, filled with concern and curiousness.

Finally, he clears his throat.

“You have an appointment with Dr. Lina at 8 a.m. on Monday. Please do not be late.”

Shock washes over your features and your mouth parts open.

“What? Zayne, how did you-”

“Being at the top of your field has its advantages.”

You're silent, not knowing what to say, just overall confused. It would’ve taken you another month to see her and now you’re seeing her in three days?

“One of my colleagues is Dr. Lina's cousin. I explained to him your situation and he talked to her. I guess she was delighted to find out that the one and only Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend wanted to see her- so she pushed back one of her appointments.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Without another thought, you move off the couch and wrap your arms around his neck. Zayne reciprocates the hug and cradles your head to his chest.

“Thank you.”

Zayne's hand continues to stroke your hair, a bit hesitant as he chooses his next words carefully. "Darling, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier."

You pull away with furrowed eyebrows as he meets your eyes.

"You were right, it seems I was a bit jealous." His hand brushes back a stray lock of your hair. "If you were required to go see another male doctor, I should have been more understanding of that. It wasn't right nor professional for me to intervene without your consent-"

"Zayne." Your sharp tone cuts off his apology. "You don’t need to apologize for anything. I understand how difficult it is for you to confront your emotions. Honestly, I couldn’t be more relieved. I had already told you that I wasn’t comfortable seeing a male doctor for this, so you being jealous and taking action like that is kind of sexy."

"You think that was sexy?" Zayne smirks as if humored by the situation. "Really."

You shrug and nod your head, "I mean, yeah. You being all protective like that and realizing you're jealous is something I don't get to see every day. Maybe I should make you jealous more often..."

He lets out a low growl and pulls you back to his chest, lips brushing against your hairline as he inhales your shampoo.

"It would be wise not to push it," He warns. "Besides, I’d much rather owe Dr. Lina a favor than you forced to be uncomfortable.” His thumb brushes over your ear.

“What’s the favor?”

“That I see one of her children. With the discovery of his new evol, I guess his heart had some abnormal fluctuations.”

You frown at his answer. A child with heart problems already?

Zayne notices your change in demeanor and he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Don’t fret over it darling, I’m seeing him tomorrow and she had already given me a brief rundown on his condition. It sounds like it’s just the body getting used to the abundance of power. It's common in children.”

You nod, relieved. If anyone can figure it out, it’s your boyfriend.

The rest of the night was spent cuddling on the couch and snacking on sweets while the cliche drama played in the background.

———-

Your appointment with Dr. Lina went very smoothly and she said you were in perfect health.

By the next week, you were approved to continue out in the field and the heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders.

Zayne was very relieved to find out his hypothesis was correct with Linda’s son, Ivan. As it turns out Ivan’s evol was super speed and the fluctuations in his heart were just him needing to burn off the energy.

You were glad it all worked out, thanks to your Dr. Zayne.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lnds x mc #lnds zayne #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x mc #lads zayne #love and deepspace x mc #zayne x reader #doctor zayne

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retrocgads · 1 year ago

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USA 1997

#USA1997 #PSYGNOSIS #REFLECTIONS INTERACTIVE LIMITED #ACTION #RACING #IBM #PS1 #THUNDER TRUCK RALLY

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imnotshua · 4 months ago

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joke me something awful - jww

٠࣪⭑ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: it's 2002 and you ask wonwoo to take you home. later, he wonders why you haven't been doing this the whole time. ٠࣪⭑ genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, college au ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, undefined relationships. not really a situationship tho, it’s very much mutual pining. reader and wonwoo are just stupid regular people who say and do stupid things, it is intentional, please love them anyway. wonwoo is down bad i'm so sorry friends, he is just!!!!!! occasional use of pet names (baby & angel from wonwoo. darling/sweetheart from others), no use of y/n or other variations, porn with plot mostly, ambiguous ending (sorry my beloveds). wonwoo could do with some more confidence ig. a bitter ex (oc) is mentioned and important for the plot! mentions of previous hook ups between wonwoo and reader. toxicity from the ex, but i don’t particularly think reader and wonu are! they just :(((((( feel free to correct me tho. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, kisses, fingering (pussy + mouths), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (it's 2002 college students were stupid then ok), dry humping lmao, cum eating, wonwoo on top, cum in pants, sloppy kinda, wet patches <3, soooo much hand holding, morning sex, neediness <333333, all in all they are quite soft and disgustingly into each other. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 5.4k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i listened to fob's from under the cork tree on repeat for like 2 weeks straight and needed to do something with the feelings in my chest. this universe started in a different work that i'll post another time, this is the before. it is complete on its own, can be read without the others, but please note that future fics for this couple will be non-linear and feature different stages of their lives. the title comes from Fall Out Boys I've Got A Dark Alley–. Please consider listening to Air - Yeji, it's the feeling this couple gives me. ٠࣪⭑ thank yous: to my loves, @100vern and @starlightkyeom– thank you for putting up with my screaming over wonwoo, thank u for reading this over and telling me it wasn't gross. to jewel again, thank you for the banner. i appreciate u both so much. to everyone else, thank you for coming to my little corner, i hope you enjoy this one.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

2002

Wonwoo didn’t apply for the fellowship program, despite all your insistence that if you got in he’d be sure to, that he’s smarter than you’ll ever be. At the time he said it felt like too much work, but later he realised he couldn’t take the fear of rejection. This would’ve just been another failed start. Deep down he wondered if he’d even deserve it.

The celebratory dinner for new scholars is supposedly an elitist, snobby, and frankly, horrid affair so naturally you’re going. If only to foster those connections you’re making for your future career. Wonwoo turns his nose up but he agrees to be your date nonetheless. You don’t have to beg, just ask the question and say he wouldn’t embarrass you like the man you’ve been dating for four months, and that fills him with some strange sense of achievement.

Of course, once that guy hears you’re taking Wonwoo instead of him, he dumps you without ceremony. And now Wonwoo sits on your bed in a rented suit far too expensive for him to feel entirely comfortable in, watching your reflection choose which earrings to wear, and he wonders if you’re even bothered. He doesn’t know how to talk to you about this. Partners are off limits, usually, but since he had some involvement in the break up, in some roundabout way, he thinks maybe he should at least check. He wets his lips.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Since Hongseok?”

You meet his eyes in the mirror. “Fine,” you say. “I don’t think it was going anywhere. He wanted something more traditional. I started to get the impression he was setting up to cheat on me, actually.”

Wonwoo is unsurprised, sounds like you are too. “You’re better off without him,” he says, picking at bits of fluff from your blanket clinging to his trousers. It’s one his mother knitted for your sixteenth birthday. “You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you start. “I think I’ll stay single for a while.”

Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows in surprise and you catch him in the mirror. With a laugh you say, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’ve been a serial dater since we moved to this city and you’re stopping now?” Wonwoo’s lips twist into a grin. Teasing is easier than edging too close to real. “Just when you’ve hit your prime?”

You scoff. “Rude. I’ll hit my prime in my thirties. Just watch.”

Wonwoo watches as you apply your usual lipstick and thinks about the time you didn’t wear any. You were just kids but it didn’t seem so long ago. You’re almost the same. Eighteen years of your starkly different lives intertwined and somehow still as close as you ever were. Still the sharpest person he’s ever known, still the sweetest if only in private. Still his parents' favourite person, still his. (His stomach twists).

You’re giving yourself a final appraisal in the mirror before turning to Wonwoo and asking how you look.

“Good,” he says, with a nod. Breathtaking, really. “Pretty.”

“Thanks,” you say, smiling relieved, moving to sit next to him on the bed and linking his arm. “We scrub up well, don’t we?”

“Mm,” he agrees, following your gaze into the mirror, pinpricks creeping over his skin. You look like you’re together, he thinks, as he notices you’ve chosen earrings that go with his tie. Anyone could make that assumption.

“You look sad, Wonwoo,” you say, quiet and soft. “Are you sad?”

“No,” he says, throat tight and feeling like his back is pressed against the wall. “What would I have to be sad about?” He lets you slip your hand into his, lets you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment, because this is how you make him feel better. Because you know that he can’t be pushed to talk about things he hardly understands. Barely a minute goes by before he sucks in a breath and says, “Shall I call us a taxi?”

“Sure, number’s in the book next to the telephone,” you say. “Want a drink? I need one for this.”

“Water for me, someone’s got to get you home.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” You laugh when Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. My reputation’s on the line.”

“One beer,” he offers. You pout and he can’t stop his smile.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It went like this:

Both of you had no less than three drinks before the taxi showed up.

Your peers kept thinking that he was your “elusive boyfriend” and upon correction that he was ‘just Wonwoo’ their eyes lit up and exclaimed “oh we’ve heard so much about you!”

The way he blushed made you want to kiss him silly (you had another drink instead).

Drink five? Four? Everyone here is obliterated, no one notices you and Wonwoo readying to leave.

He looks so pretty like this, tie undone, glasses slipping down his nose, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, watching your lips as you talk.

The taxi you pre booked won’t be here for another ten minutes but the room was so stuffy (in both the literal and figurative sense) that as soon as you tell Wonwoo you need to get out of there, he’s nodding and pulling you out into the street. It’s so busy– of course, it’s OT week– that you struggle to find a spot where you won’t be bumped into for a while, eventually settling against the wall of the building opposite, in good view of the road. The noise around you is hectic, and you’re desperate for something less bothersome. Wonwoo looks drunk, looks fucked out. Cheeks flushed and lips parted. Eyes closed, he tips his head back against the brick and exposes the column of his throat. Pretty.

“Hey,” you say, slipping your arms around his waist. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Wonwoo hums. “Yeah, ‘course.” A pause– he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy but you like how it feels. “Anything for you.”

There’s a saccharine sweetness stirring in your stomach. You ask him to tell you the story of Baucis and Philemon again, press your body against his and hope he can still read you like he used to. It’s been years. Maybe he won’t want to.

“Why do you like that one so much?” he asks. You take in the smell of his soap. You know you shouldn’t want to go down this road again. “It’s hardly even a love story.”

“They’re the ultimate love story,” you insist, looking up at your friend to find him already watching you. “They’re precious to each other. I want that kind of love.”

It’s more than that. Baucis and Philemon have a timeless love. Their lightness oozes out of them, their love is both infectious and tender. So devoted they choose to die together. Never without the other even after they’re gone– turned to trees, and their branches and roots weave together so tightly that you can’t tell where either one of them starts and they stay like that, as relics of a lost ancient world.

There is something ancient about Wonwoo, too. For as long as you can remember he has been older than his years, telling stories of places long buried, of deities forgotten about. You think maybe he was meant for then and not now, the cusp of the twenty-first century. He keeps echoes within him. Carries heavy stones to turn over in his hands and spend time memorising the marks. He is deliberate in the way he moves, no ill-perceived rush, and Wonwoo’s silence carries more weight than his words.

So when his eyes flicker to your lips again, and he still doesn’t move, you know it’s on you. You know you’re going to have to be the one to shift the sands, change the direction of the tide. You’ve been lovers before. Neither of you have ever said never.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He’d been thinking about it all night but you were the one to press your lips against the corner of his mouth, eyes on his and holding the proximity. Are you thinking about it like he is? Is your heart thrumming in your chest like his?

“I can feel you thinking.”

“Uh huh.” His mouth goes dry. He can’t kiss you with a sandpaper tongue.

You run a finger between two buttons on his shirt, eyes up, watching his reaction. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Hansol’s at his parents' house this weekend, right?”

Wonwoo’s mind goes blank and he can feel the pink creep over his cheeks. “Did you squeeze your Pompompurin pyjamas in that little bag?”

Your lips twitch in an almost smile, lean in to ghost a kiss against his bottom lip. Wait to see if he pulls back– he doesn’t. His hands just slip down your back, touching the skin under the strap of your dress. Didn’t imagine when he helped you zip up earlier that he’d be the one invited to pull it off you. Has he hidden his desire so poorly? “Do you wanna fuck me in those pyjamas, Wonwoo?”

The street noise is drowned out when you kiss him properly, and it’s embarrassing the way he’s breathless, gripping at your waist and pulling your body closer. Humiliating that this is in full view of strangers, doesn’t want them to see how you lick into his mouth, doesn’t want them to hear your sharp gasp as his teeth drag over your bottom lip. He spins you on the spot, crowds you against the brick and blocks out the world with his shoulders. You pull on a button and slip your hand through the gap. The touch burns. Your kisses are suffocating, loves the way you smile into it, the way you make him chase your lips, run your fingers along the waistband of his trousers an– fuck– he’s gonna get hard in the middle of the street.

Desperate, he pulls off you and whips his head around to look for the taxi, you’re already complaining. “Not here–,” he says, words rasped, catching in his throat. He can see the taxi rounding the corner, and in a beat he’s pushing off the wall and dragging you toward it by the hand.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He doesn’t touch you in the taxi. Hopes you know it’s not because he didn’t want to, he just doesn’t want to lose himself. His fingers flex eager on the leather seats, wanting something he won’t take. As the driver fiddles with the radio, you lean over to lay your hand across his, to whisper in his ear, “do you still lick your fingers after you’ve made someone come on them?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, but he can feel the way you watch him swallow– thick– and stare hard out the window at the passing lights. He never did that with anyone but you.

Now you’re paying for it. He’s more confident in the privacy of his bedroom, in the dark. Cages you in his bed, doesn’t bother to turn on the lights before smothering you with his body. Your mouth on his– wet, and eager, and bruising. His hands move to your face, in your hair, angling your head to give his lips access to the tender spot behind your ear. He’s got your dress bunched up around your waist. Takes up all the space between your legs, still too much fabric separating you. One of Wonwoo’s hands cast over the swell of your breast, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple through the thin fabric. You melt into the touch, rolling your hips against him, he sighs into your skin. “Can feel how hard you are,” you gasp, hands pulling at his hair. Makes his skin electric.

He moves faster, desperate, and you trap his body between your legs, angle your hips so his cock can rub against your clothed cunt just right. “Gonna ruin your trousers,” you whisper. Yeah yeah yeah, fuck it, he’ll pay for dry cleaning for once. The warmth, the wet, seeping through makes him insane. Needs it more than ever, needs you just like this, breath ragged and pupils blown. Needs you needing him so bad you can’t even get out of your clothes before you come. Needs you whining, needs you telling him how badly you want it. Won’t ask for anything, but you know what he likes. It’s always been easy with you.

“Feels good,” you say. Wonwoo nods into your neck, the pressure building so fast it’s blinding. Hips thrusting rough, rutting like an animal against your clit, desperate for you to get off before he falls apart but he’s so cl–”Missed you so much, Wonwoo.”

“Ah, fu- fuck–” You’re sucking a mark into his neck and Wonwoo can’t stop. Comes hard, breath catching and his rhythm is all fucked up, so fucking embarrased that he couldn’t draw this out. You’re talking him through it– sounds like heaven whispering how good he is, how good this feels, how you love how he sounds when he forgets himself. Didn’t realise he was groaning. A mess of a person reflected in the cum staining through the fabric of this horribly expensive rental.

Shit.

Needs to get out of this fucking suit. Needs to press his face into your cunt. Wants to ruin you for everyone else. Four years– you wasted four years with other people when you could’ve been doing this. Pushes away thoughts of you being someone else's not even a week ago. Some sick, possessive slice of him wants to reclaim you, mark you up and present you as his to the world. Wants to take the cum in his underwear and push it into your body. Look, see, she’s mine mine mine. Wonwoo’s chest aches.

Your clothes shed in silence. You lay him back against the pillows, kneeling next to him with spread legs, he loves when you let him see. You take one of his hands in yours and work circles into his palm as you pull two of his fingers into your mouth. Get them slick with spit, work your tongue over the tips of his fingers. He can hardly breathe watching you manoeuvre his hand down your body against your cunt, using him like a toy, until his remaining brain cells start to work and he takes over the movement. He’s half hard again already.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he rasps. Crooks his fingers and you whine. Wants to eat the sounds spilling from your lips. Needs to do something with his mouth so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Sit on my face?” he asks, obvious urgency in his voice.

“N-no, like this first,” you say, almost like you’re begging. “Missed your hands so much.”

You look at him through hazy eyes as he works you quickly to the edge, pulling whimpers from your throat every time he plays with your clit. Feels you get impossibly wet when he slips his fingers in deep and moans unashamed along with you. You buck into his palm, head tipping forward to watch his soaked long fingers fucking into you agonisingly slow. Your breath stutters in your throat as he uses his other hand to tease your skin, trailing gently over the meat of your thigh, your ribs, cupping your breast and then dragging you over him to take a nipple in his mouth. Flicks his wet tongue over until it pebbles between his teeth, and you gasp.

“M’close already,” you whisper. “Gonna come, Wonwoo.” He ruts his hard cock into the air, chasing heat that isn’t there. Fucking loser. You don’t even notice with the way he’s got your breaths coming in fragments. You come undone like lightning, cunt soaking and pulsing around his fingers, your body collapses on top of him, your forehead pressed into his chest. Wonwoo wants a taste but wants to work you through the aftershocks first. He teases slow circles over your clit until you fall apart with a sob, and have to drag his hand out from between your legs.

He waits until you sag to your side– catches sight of your cheeks, flushed and sweat sticking to your skin, your pupils blown out and breathing shallow, more beautiful than he’s ever seen you– before he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them.

“You’re indecent,” you laugh in disbelief. He almost feels gross until you’re babbling about how hot he is. How he makes you insane. You laugh again when he rolls you onto your back and settles between your legs. It’s been so long he needs to do this right. Starts by pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, ghosts more over your centre, waits for the sound of your gentle sigh before laving a thick stripe over you. Knows just the way to make you molten. He laps at your core until you’re almost sobbing. You jolt whenever his nose slips over your clit, and you’re begging for him to stop the tease. He’ll never deny you what you want. His tongue flicks fast over your clit, his face wet with you now. His moans sound muffled against your cunt when his name falls from your lips in staccato breaths.

Things have hardly changed. Four years and now, it’s just the fucking same. Your fingers still find purchase in his hair the same way. Mouths at your inner thighs to give your cunt a break. Shit, you’re so hot. You’re clenching around fucking nothing. Pulls the skin between his teeth and you’re writhing, trying to get his tongue back where you need it. Love when you get desperate like this.

Your nails drag over the nape of his neck and he’s close to losing control– fucks his cock against the mattress and almost cries at the pressure. You grind against his face, Wonwoo knows you’re close. Blacks out as he eats you like he’s been starving, his face so slick with spit and you it drips down his chin to the sheets. Doesn’t dare stop to breathe as he feels your legs begin to shudder over his shoulders. He watches the way you look down at him, brows pinched pleasure, waits for your lips to fall apart with a broken sob before licking into you so deep. He can’t tell who comes first, can’t tell who the enormous wet patch on the mattress belongs to, doesn’t fucking care, just wants to keep you.

He moves over you when you’re done, pressing chaste kisses to the corner of your mouth, to your cheeks, to your temple, before you’re giggling and pulling his body next to yours.

“Shift over,” he says, tapping at your hip. “Don’t wanna sleep in the wet patch.”

“Did you come again?” you ask, moving to the side to give him space.

Wonwoo nods, cheeks instantly flushing with heat. But there’s no need for embarrassment because you’re sucking in a breath. Seriously, you say “You have no idea how much I like that.”

He doesn’t reply, just fits his body against yours and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Lets your words wash over him. Sleep comes for him quicker than he wants it, but not before he slides his hand into yours, not before telling you he missed you too.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mascara stains Wonwoo’s pillowcase but right now he doesn’t care. It’s still too early, still dark outside, but this room is hot, his breath is hot, your leg thrown over his waist is hot, and he’s considering just how monumental this is. It’s been almost four years since you touched him like this. In school it started with a ‘one kiss won’t ruin us’ and ended just before university with a ‘are we still friends?’ Way back then you both swore blind that you could just go back to your regular scheduled programming and nothing had to change. An agreement that those brief months you had (not quite) together in high school were just two best friends helping each other out. A mutual understanding that the love you share is completely and utterly platonic, and platonic friends can totally kiss/touch/fuck for a few months without it ruining something more special than sex. Except he didn’t really mean it. The trouble was that Wonwoo knew even then that he wanted something all consuming. Felt it with you. Wasn’t sure if you wanted the same.

Wonwoo is absolutely not spiralling.

You’re still sound asleep (always are after nights like the last), and his arm is trapped. Back then he’d use this time to bask in you. With you wrapped up in him it was easy to feel like you were completely his. He used to feel like he could do anything to you, and you’d let him. You’d want it, even. Didn’t actually want to take you over but knowing that he could– the intensity of that scared him. Now that feeling doesn’t come, maybe because you’ve had the separation of time and different lovers, he doesn’t know really. He still doesn’t understand what happened before university. Doesn’t get why you stopped coming over when he was so close to unbottling the feelings in his chest. Just knows that the conversation took him by surprise even after a week of distance. Just knows how his chest ached even as he agreed that it’d be sensible to put it all to bed before leaving your sleepy town for the big city. Knows how his gut twisted sharp when you said that just because you were going together didn’t mean you should go together. Maybe he should’ve protested then, showed you how much he needed you. Impossibilities stretch out before him– if it went that way, last night wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t be tracing tiny figures of eight on the small of your back right now. If you’d been together then, young and stupid, would you have stood the test of time?

You stir, half roused, and Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, choosing to be grateful for the now. He pulls your waist closer, runs his hand under your thigh to gently adjust the weight. Your eyes are still closed but you make a soft sound of surprise.

“What time is it?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Too early,” he whispers back. “Go back to sleep.”

“I was dreaming,” you murmur.

“What about?”

Your smile is lazy against his skin. “Can’t tell you,” you say. “You’d run away.”

Wonwoo thinks hard about this. “I don’t run away,” he says, quiet and serious.

You blink open soft eyes to look at him, and Wonwoo feels too much. “Your face is all frozen, Wonwoo,” you say, gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Kiss me. Wish me good morning.” Wonwoo’s voice comes out with more edge than he intends. Doesn’t sound like his own. Feels cheap, something sleazy. Feels tragically guilty about it until he sees the look on your face. Like you want to eat him.

Your gaze is dark when you lock eyes with him. Push up with your hands, straddling his hips, his cock against your rear. You take his hands, larger than yours, place them on your ribcage, push them down down down, making goosebumps pebble along in his wake, until he’s using his thumbs to spread you apart. A little wet already, leaves a slick mark on his skin. He sighs at the sight of it. Your breath comes harder when he plays with your clit. You lean over, say– “Good morning, Wonwoo.” Press a delicate kiss to his top lip. “You’re gonna come inside me this time, okay?”

Wonwoo isn’t religious, but he feels like angels made you for him. Tells you so, and you gasp against his mouth. The way you kiss him this time is anything but angelic. Wet. Messy. Sharp teeth leaving imprints on his lips. It hurts. Nice in a way it shouldn’t be. A relief– the way the hurt makes his mind stop. You roll your hips against him and he makes a desperate sort of noise. Keeps his eyes focused on his fingers drawing circles on your clit. Your hands reach behind you to stroke his hardening cock and he arches into your touch. “Needy,” you chastise. Wonwoo nods.

Doesn’t want it like this. Wants you under him, wants to fuck you slow. Tells you so, the words come anguished, almost– and you nod dumbly. You don’t drag out the build up. Lay on your back, open your legs for him, spread them wide and line his cock up with your wet heat so quick he doesn’t have time to overthink. He makes a strangled sound when he pushes inside. The slide is agonisingly slow. He’s being so careful, as if you’d crack like china - fragile beneath him. You clench around his cock, thick and scalding- God, it’s sweet torture. Wants more of it.

You pull, desperate, at his waist, rolling your hips against him but he’s pulling out. This time he just slides the head in, hisses, teases, and back out. He does it again, and again, doesn’t know who this teasing is for. He’s licking into your mouth, pressing hungry kisses on your open lips, eating up all your noises, your whines, your soft moans. Things are still the same. He likes going so so deep into you, bottoming out and grinding his skin against your clit, likes when your moan comes muffled in his open wet mouth. It’s the same. Likes when your hands find purchase in the sheets, fist them in desperation, likes when you feel it’s not enough so you grab at his, intertwine your fingers and let him fuck you like this. Like you’re in love. It’s still the same.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“Uh–” A pause to suck in a fractured breath.

“Tell me how you feel,” he says. Almost begging. Would be mortifying if he whispered that against anyone else’s cheek. Can feel the wetness there too.

“Homesick,” you gasp. “I feel homesick.”

He fucks you harder then, driving into you so deep he could be part of you. Melt in, blend together, blur the lines, weave the fucking branches. You’re full of spells, he thinks. Made of magic. Doesn’t realise until after that he’s said it aloud. Wet starshine eyes on his as you come apart, pussy pulsing around his cock, impossibly wet, telling him come with me baby, babbling nonsense about how you want it inside, how you need it so bad, how he makes you feel so good.

Wonwoo really looks at you before he comes. Takes a moment to commit your face to memory. Any time could be the last and he needs this– needs you– to stay with him. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be the same.

“Like that, Wonwoo” you’re saying, all breathy and high-pitched as he spills into you with a choked whine. “Like when you–” Cum slips out around his cock and he gathers it up on his fingers. Pushes them into your mouth to stop you talking. Can’t bear it. Can’t bear the way your pupils blow out and you lick the cum from his fingers. Can’t stand how his name sounds in your mouth, sweeter, more precious, because there’s something like love coating it. God, he wants to be yours.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo likes your apartment better. Likes the way your sheets start to smell like him too. You’ve always carved out space for him but this time it’s deeper. Likes showering with you here, not to fuck, just to wash away the mess you make of each other. Likes holding you in his arms under the stream, running the lather across your skin, loving kisses pressed against your forehead. Lately he stays here more often than he goes home.

You haven’t said the words yet, neither has he. Doesn’t want to push too much too soon.

It’s just after nine on Sunday morning, and you’re out of– well, pretty much everything. He offers to go but you insist he stays in bed, hair messed up, sheets pooling in his bare lap, glasses slipping down his nose while he rereads Kafka on the Shore. “Stay just like that,” you say it like a demand, but you’re smiling, pulling a scarf around your neck to run down the street to the shop, maybe stop at the deli for breakfast. “Back in a bit, don’t move an inch.”

A few minutes go by when the shrill of the telephone in the living room punctuates the silence. Wonwoo doesn’t get up to answer, it’d be improper, what if it was your mother? So he lets it ring through to answerphone, and when it clicks on it takes him a moment to recognise the voice calling your name.

“Are you there? Pick up, darling, pick up.” Wonwoo knows Hongseok has been trying to get back together with you. You’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, how he’d sent flowers. You don’t even like roses.

“I saw you by the river yesterday,” he says. Wonwoo looks up, stares at the wall. You’d insisted on getting out of the apartment, pulled your bodies from soft sheets and into soft sweaters, and Wonwoo only complained a little bit. In truth he loved walking with you. That he can hold your hand in public and no one bats an eye. Loves that you can be his here, that you claim him too. “You’re with him now? How long, darling? Does he fuck you like I do? ”

Wonwoo scoffs. Hongseok is just jealous. Wonwoo gets it. He does. Even if he’d never dream of saying it.

Hongseok’s voice turns nasty now. “Do you think he’ll stay this time? Does he know you’ve been in love with him this whole time? Everyone else knows. He won’t love you properly, you know. He’s just using you like last time, is he still keeping you a secret? You don’t deserve that, darling. You don’t deserve to be hidden–”

Is that what you thought? That he hid you? Bile swirls in Wonwoo’s stomach. Does he do that? Did he hurt you?

“–he’s just gonna fuck you up again and you’re gonna be miserable. But he won’t let you be happy with anyone, will he? Selfish fucking prick, he’s so cruel to you. You don’t see it, do you? It’s pathetic how fucking dumb you are for him–”

Wonwoo didn’t think he was cruel. There is spit pooling in his mouth, his stomach churns. Is he cruel to you?

The line clicks off as Hongseok spits out every name under the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t hear the rest as he retches into your bathroom sink.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Forty minutes later, you’re calling out to Wonwoo that you’re home as you kick off your shoes. “I got us bagels, do you want the salmon cream cheese or the egg and ba- oh! You’re up.”

Wonwoo sits on your sofa in soft sweats and a baggy white t-shirt. His skin and hair are damp from the shower. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot. “You okay?” you ask, tentatively.

“Hmm,” he says. “Didn’t feel too good earlier.”

“Poor you,” you say. “Will breakfast make you feel better?”

“No, sorry,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically stiff. “I think I should head home. Don’t wanna give you a bug.”

You laugh softly, unpacking the groceries from the bags. “You spat in my mouth last night, if you’ve got something then I’ll have it in no time,” you say. “C’mon, stay. I’ll look after you. I’ll make soup.”

But Wonwoo is already standing, pulls a little money from his wallet and leaves it on the table. “What’s that for?”

“Breakfast,” he says. “Feel bad you bought all this and I need to go.”

You frown. “Stop being strange, I don’t care about the food, just get the next one.”

Wonwoo sighs. He’s annoyed, you realise. This is weird.

In the end you let him leave without drama, but not without a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it a little longer than usual. Closes his eyes as he hugs you goodbye.

You eat breakfast alone. TV on, sound off, wondering what the fuck even happened before you notice the light of your answerphone flickering.

New message, left 09:21:

Hi Sweetheart! It’s your aunt’s birthday next week, just calling to remind you to send a card. Call me back, okay, love you, bye!

End of messages.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

sorry about the ending there :( if it helps, it does get better for them. thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you'd prefer to scream at me directly, feel free to send me a message <3 ily, goodnight!

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etherealkissed88 · 1 year ago

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5 GAME CHANGERS OF THE LAW ★

loass things i think you should know that makes things easier

“DARE TO ASSUME” + JUST HAVE FAITH: just accept/assume what you want as easily as you effortlessly assume negative things. just do it. most of the time people are thinking about the 'perfect way' to imagine or manifest. they look for the 'perfect technique' when theres no such thing. just dare to assume it is yours now! when it is assumed, have faith in that assumption. just decide its done no matter what you see. whatever you assume and persist in will harden into a fact right? once youve assumed it true, go about your 3d life having faith in imagination. know that your desires exist already since creation is finished so theres no way that it's "impossible to manifest". just surrender yourself to faith. just trust the law. you have been applying the law since you were born without knowing. now that you understand the law, just allow yourself to have faith in it. it cannot fail. you assume something to be true and continue being that version of you in imagination aka persisting = manifestation. thats the law. if fears, anxiety, or negative thoughts come, "dare to assume" they have no affect on you, because by default they dont either way. "dare to assume its yours because you are always the operant power who choses how life goes. it gets to a point when youre tired of going back and forth with “i have it” to “no i dont”. it all comes down to faith. you should have faith in yourself and the law especially since the five senses you use to interact with the 3d are all limited and you cant see everything that goes on in the 3d. thats why it makes sense to assume something and stick with it regardless of the 3d. when will you realize that a version of you who has your desires already exists, so just surrender to the version of you who has it already in imagination. stop limiting yourself because of “fears” and just say yes to imagination.

so, i dont give a fuck about what negative thoughts or anxiety you have, just assume its done. its too easy but you overcomplicate it. once assumed, have faith and persist because this is called the law of assumption after all.

THE 3D FOLLOWS, IT DOES NOT PRECEDE: the 3d does not have a mind of its own. its only job is to reflect imagination so who ever you are being imagination, it copies. im sure youve heard the phrase “signs follow, they do not precede” which means signs do not come before your manifestation. they are there (if your limited senses can see it) because that is who you are assuming to be in imagination so it follows that (signs arent important either way so dont spend time searching for them and focusing on them when you should be focused on already being at your end goal which is already having ur desire). similarly with the 3d, the 3d literally only follows you so for it to change or show you something you want, you have to change self/imagination. the 3d literally obeys imagination so expecting it to change without changing self doesnt make sense. if you find yourself getting angry w the 3d, remind yourself “the 3d follows, it does not precede”. it cannot move on its own without your permission because you are the operant power. knowing this should send you straight into being the change you want to see and depend on limitless imagination only.

this also helps with accepting you are the only source of power and helps stop yourself from validating and depending on the 3d. when you know the 3d depends on you to change, you no depend on the 3d to show you your desire. you no longer crave seeing change from it, rather you be the change.

YOU WANT THE FEELING: im not even gonna say you dont want it in the 3d because of course your human self wants the physical experience. but you have to know that the feeling (the knowing, not emotions), dictate how you feel about it in the 3d. for example, read this and realize that even if you physically manifest your desire, if you dont feel / know that it is truly yours (aka if you arent fulfilled), it can lead you to get insecure and assume negative. an example is when someone manifests their sp but they still assume that their sp will get tired of them and wouldnt love them for long. this person was not feeling fulfilled (knowing) that they were in a committed and loving relationship which is why even with physical proof of the relationship, they still felt that it wouldnt last. you want the feeling of being loved, of having financial freedom, of feeling confident in your body, and then the physical manifestation of it is a cherry on top. you see how that if you lack the knowing (feeling) of your desire, you can allow bad assumptions to overconsume you and even ruin the fun experience of physically experiencing it in the 3d because you arent even sure of really having it (another example of how who you are in imagination = everything else).

focus on that inner fulfillment next time you imagine something. are you satisfying yourself and returning to the state to the point where you can accept it and know its truly done?

ENJOY YOURSELF: actually imagine to enjoy yourself. what do you want to experience? forget about trying to manifest that sp or money, what do you actually want to experience with that desire? whatever you truly want, imagine it for your own enjoyment and once imagined, it is experienced. manifesting is literally supposed to be fun so imagine for fun, do your techniques for fun and by law, it will reflect either way. realize that imagination can take you anywhere at anytime. you can imagine anything you want so imagine to the point where you dont desire that thing anymore because you know it is yours in limitless imagination. this is fulfillment: you realize you are experiencing it now as limitless self and you are doing it for your own enjoyment. thats leaving the 3d alone and not depending on it for validation and thats the best part of satisfying yourself in imagination.

i say this because ive realized that when i used to imagine something and do techniques, it would feel like im forcing myself to do it and then i dont even actually enjoy myself and enjoy whatever i imagine. figure out specifically what it is you want and imagine it any way you want. chase that satisfaction.

YOU EXPERIENCE IT INSTANTLY: when you imagine something, you experience it right away. it is experienced in the present always! if i imagine myself holding $1000, i really am holding $1000 in that moment. this is because you are consciousness simply being aware of whatever. once you are aware of something in imagination, it really has been experienced already. once imagined, it really happened! if you think this is not true its because you limit yourself to the dead, neutral 3d and think that the 3d is the only 'real' thing. this is not true especially since the 3d is a reflection of who you are being or who you assume to be in imagination, meaning that imagination is everywhere and is the 3d. as the operant power, you have full control over everything (over what manifests or not, etc). so even though you really experienced something in imagination instantly, you can assume it is true or not. you are the only source of power that can choose to identify with what you wants and has full control over whether or not something will be true in your reality. stop waiting for the 3d to change in order to “accept” it. stop being a slave to the 3d when you are the one who controls it in the first place. you can experience it instantly right now so why wait for the 3d to do that?

literally imagination is the source, yes? its the source because it always is molding the 3d (since they are connected) so hearing that once you imagine something, you experienced it instantly, should give you the confidence to know you really do have your desire already since it has already been experienced in imagination. nothing in the 3d can change until you change self (imagination) so imagination/self is powerful which is why you are powerful because you = imagination/self. thats literally why you have the ability to manifest in the first place. all there is to do is persist by living 3d life knowing/assuming/identifying as that version of you who has it already.

kisses, jani ☆

#etherealkissed🎀#etherealkissed #loa blog #manifesting #law of assumption #loassumption #edward art #neville goddard #4d reality #loastates #affirm and persist #assume and persist #loa assumptions #master manifestor #inner man #inner self #imagination creates reality #imagination #3d

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mihii-i · 5 months ago

Note

Hiii, can You write Moder!mizu g!p and female reader with Breeding Kink ? (Obviously safe)

netflix and chill.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, g!p, modern au, breeding, marking, digging ur nails idfk, begging, mizu has a diq obviously read the request, if you don’t like this don’t interact cause I don’t headcanon this either but others do so leave me alone, netflix and chill yippee, penetration yay :3, raw sesbian lex because protection is for losers amirite (this is a joke pls use protection irl guys), mention of pregnancy but it’s up to u if reader is pregnant or not, shy mizu shy mizu shy mizu, she’s lowkey pathetic while fucking reader but it’s cute so who gaf, grinding lol, why are all my nsfw mizu works so freaky god, I always get embarrassed writing them, not proofread.

A/N: ouuuu my goodness you know what hell yeah let’s repopulate Japan with more blue eyed kids also no need to mention safe! I will automatically make nsfw fics safe unless the request says otherwise, and even then it’s heavily limited I may not hc this but yay let’s go🕯️

A gentle illuminating glow of the glossed flatscreen panned along the shadows of your face in the muted wake of darkness circling the couch. The only light present radiated from the warmth of the TV saturating yours and Mizu’s features as your cheek nudged into her shoulder, fabric nuzzling against your skin as her arm remained curled along your torso. You often found yourself huddled up to your girlfriend’s side quite late at night, eyes fixated on the familiar dynamic animation of the Netflix logo booming forward to dissolve into the familiar account menu.

Quiet hums of the dialogue ensued from the running show, screen flickering an array of flashes that reflected various changes of color lighting up your body. However, the dialogue only registered as a bellowing white noise that you drowned out from your view fixating on a certain someone, eyes transfixed upon her sharp features with adoration, so much so you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Mizu kept her eyes locked onto the blaring screen before her, arm fitted snugly around the fat of your hips as she relished in the feeling of your weight pressed to her side. Despite staring so intently, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as your gaze flitted up to Mizu’s stern expression. Strangely enough, she was far too focused on the show she was initially uninterested in, the aversion to any sort of attention likely beholding less innocent intentions behind the stoic front she kept before you in this moment.

“…pretty fucking boring right now isn’t it?” You interjected, cutting past the awkward silence fostered between you two.

She only delivered a silent nod as her mind swirled with an odd compulsion, thumb circling along the edge of your hip as the cool steel of her rings briefly brushed up below your shirt to elicit a small shiver from you.

Despite knowing that she wasn’t quite upfront with her feelings, tending to be more of the reserved type when it came to anything nagging at the back of her head like a parasite, Mizu tended to atleast hint at, or make obvious what exactly was bothering her. A tinge of worry clouded the widening pupils of your eyes taking in her figure lounged across the sofa, hand continuing to brush up along your body casually as the ongoing images of the show flashing by ran through one ear and out the other.

Storms of quiet, internal fury thrashed about in the deep pool of cerulean flashing across Mizu’s eyes as she firmly lowered her sights from you, the fabric of her black sweatpants rubbing up against itself as her thighs clasped together as far as they could go. Yet, the diffusing warmth of your body secure against hers continued to rack her head with the fury of unbecoming thoughts that ran rampant in her head just about now.

Fuck…you always snuggled up against her like this while watching Netflix, or anything..so why all of a sudden does it feel so unbearably hot? Especially in the frosted grasp of winter, and the lack of heaters in your dorm.

Everything around the two of you was consumed by a deathly silence eating at the pits of darkness swallowing up your surroundings apart from the TV itself, even the entrance to the kitchen appearing as a gateway to hell. Nuzzling closer to Mizu, your gaze periodically flickered over to her in the midst of each agonizingly long moment of dialogue, perturbed by your girlfriend’s unusual behavior today. Had you done something wrong? Was she uncomfortable..?

Clearing your throat, you managed out a barely audible reply, nearly close enough to a whisper as your fingers sank into the plush armrest of the couch to help yourself up. “I’m gonna go grab some more popcorn..okay?”

You wriggled out of Mizu’s grasp for a moment, finally earning a reaction from her as her head snapped up in your direction, eyes finally wide with a bit more life rather than mindlessly staring at the screen like a corpse. Rising to your feet, you trudged over to the shrouded abyss of a kitchen, sluggishly running your hand along the cool walls to navigate the lights.

The sharp brightness flooded into your eyes as you squinted upon recoiling, biting back a mewl of irritation at the sudden intrusion poking at your eyeballs. You weakly treaded through the tiled floors, the low cut of your pajamas pooling against the tiles as you rummaged through the pantry in search of a popcorn bag while longing to head back to the comfort of your dimly illuminated spot hemmed in Mizu’s grasp.

As you made your way back to the couch, Mizu seemed far more tense than she actually was, your expression wrinkling at the sight of her visible discomfort. Falling back into the grasp of the cushions swallowing you whole, you carefully allowed your hand to gravitate toward her, placing it onto bony ridges of her shoulder. She jerked forward in response, glancing over at you with an expression of internal panic scribbled all over. Seriously, what the fuck was going on with her?

“Mizu, what’s going on with you today? You’ve been all jumpy and stuff, it’s getting worrying.”

“Don’t..worry about it. I’m just not feeling well.” She dismissed, only earning a disapproving scoff from you.

“Bullshit. You never act like this. When you’re sick or something it takes me a while to notice.”

You craned over, hands planting onto the oppsite end of the couch past her thigh as you reached over to graze the bridge of your nose briefly below Mizu’s chin. Back slightly arched down, you shifted a hand over to rest on the opposite end of her waist, staring up to her face with a puzzled look. Her face was strangely a deeper shade of red, the warmth from her body practically burning your skin as you twisted your torso over to look straight up at her in the awkward position. Perhaps she really was sick if her face was this flushed?

“I- maybe I’m more sick than usual-“

Her words were hoarsely hitched out in a near gasp at the sensation of your proximity brushing up against her, your hand dangerously drifting closer to her thighs as she tried to clasp them together in a futile attempt, breath catching in her throat at your fingertips dancing along the woven fabric of her sweatpants stuck to her thigh.

“Oh come on, you’ve never been this cautious before! Just tell me what’s got you so-!”

As soon as those words left your lips, your fingers idly traced over the solid tent embedded at the center of her pants, cutting your words off abruptly as you saw Mizu’s eyes squeeze shut at the fleeting shock of her body twitching up.

oh…oh.

Your expression almost fell agape at the fact that you didn’t realize her hard-on sooner, head fogged with embarrassment as the blush seeping across your face mirrored hers while you bashfully looked away. You swallowed back the lump residing in your throat as your eyes averted back to the now prominent erection poking through the fabric between her thighs, Mizu’s expression beholding a hint of embarrassment, keeping her eyes averted.

Gods..she could’ve just said she wanted to knock you up and you would’ve complied. Seriously, this was about to be a Netflix and chill session.

“Sorry..” Mizu croaked out, wanting to bury herself in a hole and never come out from the sheer humiliation she felt from her girlfriend finding out that she was absolutely bricked. To be frank, she couldn’t exactly choke out any more words despite her embarrassment, considering the need to bury herself into the warmth of your cunt overpowered any other sense in this moment as her cock ached in the confines of her clothing.

Upon regaining your composure, you sighed out a small chuckle as your finger slipped along the waistband of her pants, her body curling up slightly at the smallest touch of your skin along hers. Of course, your hand retreated from her pants as your thumb ran along her bottom lip, her eyes boring into yours as they dusted over in a heightened intensity of need—her gaze alone screaming out that she needed your hands against her skin once more. A soft exhale made its way through your nose, lips pursed as you surveyed her taut muscles rolled back instinctively.

“Can I?”

She finally breathed out, her hips rolling up in small, almost unnoticeable motions if your hand wasn’t situated atop the tent in her pants as she desperately sought more friction from your touch. You let a smile stretch your lips as your legs mounted over to straddle her thighs comfortably, finding your pussy resting along her shaft throbbing between your legs.

—

“W-Wait..Mizu slow down..”

Your pleas were gagged by the crescendo of moans spilling from your feverish lips as she drove herself into you, trails of angry red marks blooming in a wake of fresh hickeys along the skin of your collarbone, up to your throat. Hands scrambling below you, you desperately rummaged along the empty cushions of the the couch your back was flush against to find some semblance of balance to ground yourself, only being able to weakly grip the edges before they slid off.

The engulfing heat of your cunt swallowed Mizu whole, velvety walls clenched around her flesh as the veins of her cock nudged up along the blanking heat tightening around her. A series of low whimpers wrenched out of her throat with each thrust burying herself into you, hiccuping back the shallow breaths accumulating in her chest at each of your lewd responses to her cock lodged inside you.

She was fucking big, no doubt. You couldn’t even bite back the strangled moan that the other dorms would definitely hear when Mizu first shoved herself into you, your cunt stretching to accommodate her girth protruding your hole as she sank deeper into you. Body jerking upward with each thrust, you could only cry out an incoherent string of moans as Mizu continued to ram into you, seeking more of your cunt’s warmth as the tip of her cock brushed along your womb.

Mizu continued to fuck you ruthlessly into the couch, your hands flying up grasp at her back to ground yourself as your nails dug crescents into her flesh, mouth hung open from the euphoric sensations pulsing through you at the delicious stretch of her cock massaging that one spot that made you cry out. Her pathetically desperate movements were far too adorable to you, the way she tried so hard held back those whimpers you loved oh so much, digging her cock to reach deeper into you as her head bowed down beside your chest, hair spilling over her shoulders and freely flowing down her back.

It was all just perfect. The way your insides practically molded to accommodate her, feeling the supposed illusion of her own stomach swelling with her deepening thrusts, her dick twitching within you with each fervent movement of her hips hilting forward—it’s as if you were the lock to her key. The way she kept trying to find a spot deeper that someone of her length could easily reach in a desperate attempt to nestle herself within your warmth forever. Hell, you imagined what it would feel like if she just got you pregnant at this point.

And as if she read your mind, linking you two intellectually in the raw instinct and desire consuming you two in this moment as she continued to sheathe herself into you, your moans harboring a few aroused gasps at the sight of her cock coated in your glistening slick. Mizu finally gasped out as well, her words slurred together and deeply craving the safety of your cunt grasping her tightly.

“Please..please please please, fuck- let me put a baby in you, (Name)..” she sobbed out, fighting back the urge to throw her head back in bliss as her words came out desperately. “Let me cum inside…I’ll take good care of you, and our kid..just-“

She was cut off by the tide of pleasure flooding her body, rubbing the ridge of her leaking tip along your g-spot like a puppy in heat as she mustered up every ounce of strength she had to continue fucking you. Damn it. She seriously wanted plant a kid inside you didn’t she? The way her dick practically begged your cunt to foster her inside your slick heat so she could leave herself inside you, wanting to spill inside you and have a baby of your own that mirrored the two of you.

She seriously was making it tempting wasn’t she?

Mizu lowered herself onto you weakly, pressing herself up against you, her skin flush to your own as her hips persisted in now gentle thrusts rolling within you to jerk up against your abdomen at an angle. Through your pleasured haze, you only responded with a nod, gaping your jaw to try and speak through the flurry of whines and cries assaulting your throat in sync with Mizu’s own.

“P-Please..yes. God- just fill me up already you- mmph..”

Mizu was near ecstatic at your words, her hand snaking behind your head as her moans persisted. The unfelt taste of what she thought your slick would feel like seeped into her mouth within the illusions of her fucked out mind, eyes rolling back weakly as she whimpered out a small series of ‘thank yous’ alongside your name as if it was a mantra on her lips, cock twitching against the spongy interior of your cunt.

Her hips swiftly met yours in one final motion, a hiss sizzling from her grit teeth as she pushed herself against you as if she had been deprived of your touch for an eternity, tits shoved up against yours, silently pleading to never let go. A long, guttural moan was ripped out of you as her hot cum spilled into you, decorating your insides a salty white. You watched, amused as Mizu tried to shove back in any drop that dared to leak out of your pussy, trying to keep her fluids inside you to swallow every ounce of her cum.

Mizu merely collapsed on top of you as she withdrew herself from your cunt, cheek nuzzling against your left breast as you let out a breathless laugh. As monstrous as she was while fucking you, she was just a woman who was satiated of her need and adoration she had to express, her arms locked around your body as her eyes nearly fell shut. Huh. The bright blue in her irises seemed to also bask in the afterglow of sex along with her body.

“Are you mad I probably knocked you up?” She hummed, her hand wrenching out from the weight of your back to lace her fingers with yours. You hummed in response, bringing your limp hand near your chest.

“Not at all.”

“Good…I just..kind of want a family with you someday..genuinely. Just, to have a peaceful life that’s all.”

“You’re cute when you’re not being all stoic and mysterious you know.” You replied with a gentle laugh.

“Well get used to it. If we’re gonna be parents sometime then..”

she trailed off, her head lulling against your chest as she dozed off, her energy fully spent from the aftermath of her intense orgasm as well as yours.

—

“Ugh- what the-?”

The vibrations of Mizu’s phone buzzing violently against the glass coffee table not too far from the couch jittered along the glass, her eyes catching sight of the sliding accept button for the incoming call as well as the barrage of notifications front the friend group chat with you, Mizu, Akemi, Ringo, and Taigen in it. She tiredly climbed off of you, clutching the blanket pooled at the foot of the couch and carefully tucking it over you before making her way to the phone. Of course, none other than Taigen calling her.

Her mood was already killed when she saw that she had to get off cuddling her girlfriend to lift a call, and what could Taigen possibly want that wasn’t chewing her ear off for a sparring match at kenjutsu practice? Of course, she didn’t notice you groggily blinking your eyes open as you sat up, muscles sore and aching from your previous activities.

“What?” Mizu demanded, putting the phone on speaker as an unamused expression remained plastered to her face.

“Why haven’t either of you been answering our texts in the groupchat? We wanted to make plans to meet up at a sushi restaurant on Saturday.” Taigen huffed, his voice coming through as to inquire what could possibly keep you two from answering.

After a moment of silence his voice cracked into the speaker again, sneering out to earn a reaction of sorts to get an answer. “What? Were you two fucking or something? Is that why you were away from your phones?” He asked, his tone wasn’t exactly condescending or mocking, just a little annoyed.

Mizu only scoffed, responding back in a hoarse voice. “Good job, you’re not a total moron. She’s pregnant now.”

A shocking silence gripped the atmosphere, Taigen’s shocked expression already palpable through the confines of the audio call screen—before he finally spoke up, the groupchat exploding with messages since the other two were probably with him.

“…Mizu what the actual fu-“

A/N: HELLO??? I ACTUALLY GOT LOWKEY EMBARASSED WRITING THIS IM FRYING. WAY MORE THAN MY OTHER MIZU FICS CAUSE THIS ONE EAS LIKE FREAKY FREAKY YK

also sorry if it’s kinda subpar cause I just got back from midterms haven’t written in a while and my brain is fried in hot oil- anyway I’m gonna consume 30 gallons of holy water after this I love the freakiness but holy shit. ALSO HEY WHY IS THE MIZU X READER TAG DYING OUT KEEP IT ALIVE. It’s ok mihi is here to save yall with another mizu fic

Also it’s so funny bc I lowkey imagine myself as reader when writing the mizu fics..and I know I would be snapped in half by the way she’s handling reader here because I’m like fucking 5 foot 1 help

Also I cannot crop the fuckass banner and make it look good help me so it’s big for now you get the luxury of square image banner and not thin rectangle AHHHHHHH

mizuuuuu ahahahahdhdhd

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fireya-x · 5 months ago

Text

bite marks

【 AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist 】 ✦ John Price x Reader ✦ You show John exactly who he belongs to when other women won't take a hint. ✦ 4.4k words ✦ tags/cw: smut, dom!reader, jealousy, possessiveness, car sex, vaginal sex, creampie, light biting

Ranks and medals, gleaming on suits and uniforms, seemed to multiply with every glance, a dizzying display of military pomp and circumstance. It was that posh reception, the one that rolled around annually, the kind where inflated egos and forced pleasantries ruled the room. You almost felt sorry for John, who, by his rank and reputation, was always pulled into the middle of it all. Firm handshakes, forced smiles, and empty conversations – the price of duty, as he’d once called it, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he’d explained it to you.

You, on the other hand, absolutely loathed these events.

The music, always a little too loud, turning conversations into shouting matches and making your head ache. Small talk with people you barely even knew, and didn’t even want to know, faked politeness that turned into rolling eyes as soon as backs were turned.

The only redeeming qualities, as far as you were concerned, were the free-flowing drinks, the surprisingly decent food, and the excuse to wear your favorite dress – a sleek, black cocktail dress that hugged your curves in all the right places and made you feel powerful and confident.

But then, there were also people like her. The woman who seemed to have permanently attached herself to John’s side. She had the most beautiful smile, and it grated on your nerves. The way it crinkled the corners of her eyes, the way it lit up her whole face – it was captivating, yes, but utterly infuriating.

You really weren’t the jealous type, usually, but the way this woman was sticking to John like a leech, her hand constantly brushing against his arm, her body leaning into his, was pushing your limits.

John was trying his best to get rid of her, to give him credit, but she didn’t seem to get the message. He’d shift his weight, turn away slightly, but she’d simply adjust her position, her smile widening, her touch lingering. Even worse, she was the daughter of some important general, a fact she made sure to mention within earshot of anyone who would listen, so you knew he didn't want to be impolite. Said general, a stern-faced man whose chest was practically covered in medals, stood nearby, observing their interaction with a hawk-like gaze. Anything that’s got to do with ranks and honor, John wouldn’t turn a blind eye.

She kept smiling, and you started to wonder if it wouldn’t hurt her cheeks by the end of the night. The muscles in your own jaw ached from the effort of maintaining a polite facade. She kept laughing at every word he spoke, even every other word that left his mouth, any chance she got, and it caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

Earlier, you had brought John a drink, trying to save him from the misery of the woman’s relentless attention. You’d shifted closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek, a deliberate gesture of possession, a silent message to the woman – and everyone else in the room – that he was taken. But it seemed to have done little to deter her. If anything, it seemed to embolden her, her smile widening, her touch becoming more insistent. John had given you an apologetic smile, his eyes flicking towards the general standing nearby, and, as always, you understood. He was trapped between his duty to be polite and his desire to be with you, a conflict clearly reflected in the tension around his eyes. Ranks and honors mattered to him, sometimes more than they should.

“Damn,” Gaz whistled low, drawing your attention. You followed his gaze back to that same woman, now in very close proximity to your man, throwing her head back laughing and grabbing John’s arm in an almost intimate gesture. The way her fingers played with the edge of his jacket sleeve sent a wave of what felt like simmering anger through you. “She’s relentless.” He chuckled, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“I’m going to throw up,” you muttered, grabbing your glass again, downing another sip, letting the burn of the vodka on your throat sting away, if only momentarily, the sight before you. The alcohol, a potent mix of vodka and cranberry juice, was starting to take the edge off, loosening the tight coil in your stomach, but it wasn’t enough to completely extinguish the fire of your jealousy.

“What could she possibly want with Price?” Nova joined the conversation, handing Gaz a bottle of beer. While taking a sip from her own, he pulled her close to his side, an arm casually laid around her waist.

You eyed their easy affection, a pang of longing hitting you. Sometimes you wished your boyfriend wasn’t such a busy man and could enjoy a simple drink with his team and friends, even in the middle of the forced pleasantries of these receptions.

“Her daddy probably told her stories about him,” you said, your voice tight, betraying the effort it took to maintain your composure. A good-looking man like John surely had his admirers, and you’d seen it countless times before. But nobody had ever been this bold, this utterly oblivious to your presence, to the kiss you’d given him right in front of her. It was as if she couldn't – or wouldn't – see you. Nobody knew the John you knew, the man beneath the uniform, and it should have calmed your nerves, reassured you of your place in his life, a place no amount of flirting could threaten. But the woman’s audacity, her complete disregard for you, made your blood boil.

“Do I hear jealousy?” Gaz pressed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He seemed to be deriving an inordinate amount of pleasure from your discomfort.

“Why would I be jealous?” you retorted, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You knew you were being childish, irrational even. John wasn't giving the woman any encouragement, but that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling of possessiveness from twisting your insides, the urge to mark your territory, to remind everyone – and especially her – that he was yours.

“Hm, let’s see. She’s younger, totally John’s type – ow!” Soap yelled, and in the corner of your eyes, you caught Ghost smacking him on the chest, a reprimand for his tactless comment. Soap rubbed his ribs while Ghost's eyes moved back and forth between you and John. He’d found it hilarious, the barely-concealed disgust twisting your features, the steam practically coming out of your ears from jealous fury.

“He can talk to whoever he wants,” you said, forcing a nonchalant tone. “He’s just polite because of all those old important people.” The words were a hollow attempt to convince yourself – and them – that you weren't affected by the woman's blatant flirting.

Two more women, equally polished and equally determined, had joined the throng around John. It seemed the general’s daughter had inadvertently started a competition, each woman vying for the Captain’s attention. He seemed even more annoyed now, his eyes finding yours across the room a few times – a silent plea for rescue – but he remained trapped, locked in conversation, duty-bound to be polite to the daughters and wives of high-ranking officials. He remained engaged, nodding politely, offering the occasional comment, despite their increasingly obvious attempts to distract him, their laughter and suggestive comments becoming bolder with each passing moment.

While you understood his duty and respect for rank, his prioritizing them over his own discomfort was increasingly frustrating. The way they subtly shifted their bodies, angling for his attention, trying to catch his eye, to put their cleavages on display – it was almost comical. Almost.

You’d had enough. The alcohol, the noise, the woman’s relentless pursuit – it was all too much. You needed a moment, a space to collect yourself. Taking a last sip of your now lukewarm drink, you moved towards the ladies' room. Inside, the cool air and relative quiet offered a welcome respite from the oppressive atmosphere of the party.

You leaned against the cool porcelain of the sink, taking a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. A surge of defiance, a reckless impulse, coursed through you, a spark of an idea igniting in your mind.

Inside the stall, you slipped your panties off and scrunched them up, concealing them in your fist like a secret weapon in your arsenal.

If you had to mark your territory like a possessive kitten, you’d gladly do so.

Emerging from the restroom, you scanned the room, locating Price. He was now engaged in conversation with the generals, his back to you. It was the perfect opportunity. With a determined stride, your heels clicking softly against the floor, you approached, your heart pounding against your ribs. You attached yourself to his arm with a pretended loving gesture, a possessive touch that belied your playful smile. You offered a polite nod to the men and women opposite of him, then reached into his jacket pocket, slipping the panties inside. Your fingers brushed against the rough fabric, pretending to smooth some nonexistent wrinkles. He stiffened slightly at the unexpected contact, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but didn't react further, too engrossed in the conversation to notice your actions or perhaps choosing to ignore them for the sake of politeness. You lingered for a moment, a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips, enjoying the thrill of the risk, before nonchalantly turning away, heading towards the bar as if nothing had happened.

You intended to grab another drink, to play it cool, but you didn’t even get the chance. John’s hand shot out, gripping your arm more roughly than he probably intended, his fingers digging into your skin. You turned to face him, surprised by the intensity of his grip and the urgency in his eyes. He leaned in, his voice low and husky, barely audible above the din of the party, “We’re leaving.”

His eyes, usually warm and playful, were now dark, almost predatory. He didn’t wait for your response, pulling you away from the party, his grip tightening on your arm, ignoring the curious glances and hushed whispers that followed your hasty exit.

The car came to a screeching halt somewhere on a field road, a dark forest swallowing it halfway. John grunted, his frustration evident in the sharp sound as he rummaged through his chest pocket. His fingers brushed against the soft lace of your panties, and he pulled them out, tossing them onto the middle console of the car with more force than necessary.

“What’s this then? What the bloody hell are you thinking?” He turned towards you, his expression unreadable in the dim light filtering through the trees.

“Oh, don’t give me that, John.” The alcohol had emboldened you, leaving you feeling reckless and exhilarated. You knew you had overstepped, crossed a line, but the jealousy, the urge to claim what was yours, had overridden all sense of propriety.

“Do you even know who that was? What if they saw –” His voice was tight, his jaw clenched, his anger palpable.

“I don’t fucking care.” The words were out before you could think, blunt and unapologetic. You knew you should have shown more restraint, but the truth was, you didn't regret anything. Not really.

“You’re one of my lieutenants. Show some respect.” His words were clipped, his jaw tight. He was trying to maintain control, to remind you of your place, of the hierarchy that existed between you, even outside the confines of the military base. But you could see the flicker of desire in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on your lips, betraying the conflict raging within him.

“Maybe show some respect to your partner –”

He sighed, shaking his head, a mixture of frustration and amusement finally breaking through his stern façade.

“John, I don’t –” You started to speak, wanting to explain yourself, to justify your actions, but he cut you off.

His hand shot out, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him. The touch, firm but not unkind, sent a shiver down your spine. “Listen to me –”

“No! You listen to me.” You pushed his hand away, unbuckled your seatbelt, and turned your body fully towards him, the movement causing your dress to ride up your thighs, exposing the smooth skin beneath.

“I don’t care who you flirt with when I’m not around, John.” You watched as his eyes couldn't resist following the movement of your dress. He fought to keep his gaze steady, to maintain his composure, but you could see the subtle clench of his jaw.

“I didn’t flirt –” he protested, but you ignored it.

“I trust you,” you continued, your voice softer now, almost a whisper, “but when I am right there? Nobody fucking flirts with you, understood?”

He paused for a second, a slow smile spreading across his lips, transforming his stern features, softening the hard lines of his face. “Never guessed you were that jealous,” he murmured, the tension easing slightly. He seemed almost… intrigued by your possessiveness, by the fierce way you were staking your claim.

“Not jealous,” you corrected, “Just… territorial.”

“She’s the daughter –” he began, but you silenced him with a finger pressed against his lips.

“Of a high-ranking official. I know.” You pulled back slightly, your eyes locking with his. “Doesn’t mean I have to like her claws all over you.” You reached for his arm, your fingers tracing the spot where the woman had touched him, remembering the possessive way her hand had lingered there. You pulled the fabric of his shirt up, exposing the warm skin beneath. Before he could even ask what you were doing, you licked along the exact spot, a slow, deliberate stroke of your tongue that sent a visible shiver through him. Then, you gently nibbled at the skin, leaving a faint mark of your teeth, a brand, a silent marking of what was yours.

His eyes darkened, turning into something wild and untamed, the amusement replaced by a raw, hungry desire. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, a primal sound that vibrated through you. He wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly why you had done that, remembering the possessive glint in your eyes, the way you had watched him, the silent challenge you had issued. And he accepted it, willingly, eagerly. He didn’t try to hide his desire any longer. With a sudden movement, almost too fast for you to register, he yanked you across the seat, settling you firmly on his lap, your bodies flush against each other, the heat of his desire igniting your own.

Your dress rode up your thighs completely, baring your sex against his crotch, and his eyes were glued to the sight, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Then you realized where his anger had come from, partly; he was rock hard beneath the black fabric of his pants, pressing insistently against your core. You gasped, a soft, involuntary sound, and at the same time, a strangled noise, like a growl, escaped his throat. Having a hard-on so obviously visible in front of his colleagues, especially in such a public setting, might have been an issue for him, a breach of protocol, a lapse in his usual impeccable control. But all you felt was a surge of pride, a thrill of possessiveness – all he needed was a little reminder of you to be this way.

You were the one who could unravel him, the one who could make him forget his duties, his responsibilities, the weight of his rank – no other woman.

You leaned in, grabbing his chin, so his eyes snapped back up to meet yours. As you spoke, you made sure to grind against him, a slow, agonizing movement that made him groan. “You don’t get to be mad at me.”

Your other hand snaked down between your bodies, closing around his erection through the fabric of his trousers. His eyes almost rolled back in his head at the contact, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab the flesh of your hips, pulling your dress even higher, wanting more, needing more.

You let go of him, grabbed his arms, and shoved them away from you, a playful challenge in your eyes. “If you touch me, John,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his mouth, then trailing it up his cheek, through his beard and stubble, finally nipping gently at his earlobe, “I’ll leave you fucking frustrated. Got it?” Your hand went back to his crotch, slowly working at the zipper of his trousers.

He let out a shaky exhale, his hands gripping the headrest behind him, visibly struggling to comply. The effort of restraint was evident in the taut muscles of his arms, and the clench of his jaw. His length twitched against your hand as you finally reached the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down to release him. He sprung free, hard and throbbing, nestled between your thighs. Another exhale, sharper this time, escaped his lips, his chest heaving beneath your hands. The sight of him, so hard, so desperate, so undeniably yours, was more intoxicating than any drink could ever be.

“I asked you if you understood me, John.” Your voice was low, husky, laced with a playful dominance. Your hand moved to tighten around his cock, and he hissed in response, a sharp intake of breath, as you slowly ran a finger over the sensitive tip.

“Yes,” he whispered, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes burning into yours.

You watched him, enjoying the sight of him struggling to maintain control, his body thrumming with barely contained need. His gaze was fixed on yours, a mixture of lust and frustration swirling in their depths. His length twitched against your hand, a silent plea for you to do something, anything .

You inched closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Good boy,” you murmured, the words a playful taunt, a reward for his obedience. You trailed kisses down his throat to the hollow at the base of his neck. You nipped at his earlobe, then his neck, sucking gently at the skin, wanting to leave a mark, a visible sign of your claim on him. You could feel the pulse throbbing beneath your lips, and the heat and salty taste of his skin flushed your senses.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, just past your breasts, letting them spill free. If you could have, you would have captured the look on his face at that moment, a perfect blend of desperation, desire, and awe. His earlier anger had completely dissolved, replaced by raw, uncontained lust. His eyes were wild, like a tiger on the prowl, his teeth grinding against each other, the muscles in his jaw flexing. You knew just how much he wanted to reach out and touch you – to cup your breasts, to trace the curve of your hips, to pull you closer – but you wouldn’t let him. Not yet.

Instead, you shifted your weight, positioning yourself over him, the tip of his cock pressing against your slick heat. He groaned then, his body tensing in anticipation, a silent prayer for what he craved.

You reached down, your fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt, freeing his chest.

Then, you lowered yourself onto him with a tormenting slowness, savoring the feeling of him filling you, stretching you. His breath hitched in his throat, his muscles clenching as you took him deeper, inch by agonizing inch. You held yourself still, suspended above him, letting the weight of your body settle on him, the friction building an unbearable tension.

You leaned forward, your now-bare breasts brushing against the wiry hair of his chest. You rubbed against him, and your nipples, hard and aching, dragged across his skin, earning a guttural growl from deep within his chest. You lowered your head and nipped at his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, then soothed the sting with a slow, lingering kiss. His hands twitched, reaching out instinctively, wanting to pull you closer, to guide your rhythm, to take control. But he stopped himself, his fingers clenching into fists, finding their way to the steering wheel behind you, knuckles white against the dark leather.

You continued to torment him, grinding your hips against his, a slow, circular motion that sent shivers of pleasure – and frustration – through you both. You could feel him throbbing inside you, hard and insistent, desperate for release. You smirked, enjoying his struggle, the way his body trembled beneath you, a captive to your desires, his control hanging by a thread.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his voice strained, his eyes squeezed shut, his body rigid with the effort of holding back.

You lifted yourself slightly, then lowered yourself again, taking him deeper, pushing him closer to the edge. He arched beneath you, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he fought for control, the pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter within him. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest, a mixture of lust and affection swelling within you. He was yours, completely and utterly, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were in control, the dominant force, and he was yours to command, to possess, to please. And you intended to savor every second of it.

You quickened your pace, the rhythm building, causing his hips to meet yours, thrust for thrust. His breathing grew ragged, his moans growing louder, filling the small space of the car. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest, a thrill of power surging through you as you felt him nearing the edge. He was so close, his body taut with anticipation, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched.

And then, with a guttural cry, he shattered, his body convulsing beneath you. You felt the pulsing heat of his release deep inside you, each throb a searing brand against your most sensitive walls. A wave of pleasure washed over you, a delicious echo of his release, but it wasn’t enough. You were far from finished.

“Touch me,” you commanded, not letting him linger in his bliss for too long. “Make me come, John.”

His eyes flew open, his gaze locking with yours. He hesitated for a moment, before his hand moved from the steering wheel to your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him. His other hand found its way between your bodies, his fingers seeking out your clit.

He began to rub, slow circles at first, then faster, more insistent, his touch sending shivers of pleasure radiating through you. You sat still, letting him work his magic, your body a canvas for his touch. He began to move his hips, slow, shallow thrusts, his softening cock dragging against your walls, the friction adding to the growing inferno within you.

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him, the pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter, a delicious torment that you savored, knowing that the release, when it came, would be all the more powerful.

He watched you, his gaze intent, his breathing growing ragged as he witnessed your pleasure. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, more forceful, his fingers moving and pressing against your clit, building the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your voice raw with need, your body trembling, your legs shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure reached its peak, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to shatter you. And then, with a scream, you came, your body convulsing around him, the world exploding into a blinding white light, the feeling overwhelming, making you feel weightlessly floating in a state of euphoria.

You collapsed against him, your head resting on his chest, your breathing ragged, your heart pounding against his ribs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his warm body against yours. For a long moment, you simply held each other, savoring the afterglow, the quiet connection that transcended words.

“I love you,” you whispered, sighing contentedly as you moved back a little and reached out, your fingers slowly closing the buttons of his shirt, a small gesture of tenderness.

“I’m not sure if you deserve me saying it back.”

“Hey–!” you protested playfully, swatting at his hand as he struggled with the buttons near his neck, taking over for him.

“I won’t be able to love you if you’re killing me with your behavior,” he continued, his lips curving into a slow smile.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you retorted, rolling your eyes, but the smile tugging at your own lips betrayed your amusement. You loved this side of him, the playful banter, the teasing affection that he so rarely allowed himself to show, a glimpse of the man beneath the uniform, the man you knew and loved with all your heart.

He reached out, his calloused fingers gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away a smudge of lipstick from the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he said, spoken with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

You smiled, and he returned it, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that always made your heart skip a beat. He moved you gently back to your seat, his touch lingering on your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip as if unwilling to let you go. You adjusted your dress, smoothing the fabric over your still-tingling skin, your legs still shaky.

“Let’s get back.”

“Back ?” You looked at him, your eyes wide with shock. You glanced down at your body, the sticky evidence of your little dispute warm against your inner thighs. “I can't go back like this,” you whispered, your cheeks flushing at the thought of facing your colleagues, of the questions, the knowing glances, the whispers that would undoubtedly follow.

He smirked, an evil glint in his eyes, as he reached down, grabbing the lace panties from the gear shift where they had landed before, and stuffed them back into his pocket. You were stunned speechless, not sure what to say, how to react. You had expected him to still be angry, to reprimand you for your impulsive behavior, but this… this was something else entirely. He was turning the tables, reclaiming control in his own way.

“You wanted everyone to know you’re mine, didn’t you?”

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2009editingtips · 1 month ago

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this video was Perfect for the parasocial girlies (gn) that really like to delve into the minutia of dnp's interactions/relationship in their day to day existence, and reflect on how love takes many forms. Which includes, but is not limited to, pretending you didn't have a simultaneous shitting and vomiting episode for several hours at ass crack o clock, and going full Karen at the front desk employees so you don't loose $100

#BOTH of which i will add are “sacrifices” they made for the other person #im so normal about this video you have no idea #phan

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jeondesu · 1 year ago

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ೀ⋆ 🍂 SKZ + WAYS THEY SHOW “ I LOVE YOU ” !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre: fluff warnings: not many… just some mentions of food & kissing <3

this is an old repost from my deleted blog !

방찬/BANG CHAN.

chan is the most perfect boyfriend you could ask for. he’s the type to never let you lift a finger when he’s around you. whether it be fixing a broken pipe in the house or carrying all of the groceries; it wasn’t a problem for him at all. he may get consumed in his work sometimes but that didn’t mean he spends less quality time with you. he’d call you throughout the day to check up on you and tell you how much he misses you. he’d share what he was working on and update you on small things. always smothering you once he comes home— no seriously, he does not let you breathe. he’d pepper kisses all over your face whilst having you wrapped tightly in his arms. the warmth of his loving embrace made you feel the safest and utmost protected.

리노/LEE KNOW.

lovesss taking you out on fun interactive dates. movies, bowling, mini golf, fruit-picking, and candlelit dinners were a just a few to name. minho enjoyed going to small family owned restaurants, he loved desserts and would order a milkshake with two straws on each side. you’d be playing footsie under the table like little kids, teasing you while staring into each others eyes trying not to burst out laughing. he loves you just as much as he loves his cats and that’s saying a whole lot. he has a picture of you playing with soonie and dori as his lock screen, it was probably the cutest pic he’s ever taken of you. he calls you and his cats a little family >\\< he loves the way they all get along with you and it affirms even more that you really are the one for him.

창빈/CHANGBIN.

constantly showers you with dozens upon dozens of compliments. could write a full-fledged novel on simply everything he adores about you. he’ll write sweet notes from time to time and leave them in random areas for you to find. your relationship with him always kept you guessing, he was so full of pleasant surprises. he noticed the littlest details about you and could practically read you like a book. he knew immediately when you were in a slump, it became his personal mission to cheer you up. is super touchy feely with you but does it with the most pure intentions. pressing feathery kisses along your hands and the insides of your palms, then trails further up your arm. he loved seeing how flustered you’d get by it, only wanting to keep doing it more.

현진/HYUNJIN.

treats you as his artistic muse. his deep infatuation with you fed his inspiration with new ideas constantly. his paintings were a reflection of his mind, his most inner thoughts and emotions. almost every painting he’s done was inspired by you in some way, shape, or form. art and photography are one his favorite hobbies so naturally he’s going to always wanna snap pictures of you. whenever you two go on dates he takes pics of you without you knowing, smiling to himself and thinking how lucky he is to have you. he tells you often how much you mean to him, he was a very vocal partner. you didn’t need to ask for reassurance because hyunjin would just give it to you anyway. it was like he could read your mind, he understood you on a intuitive and spiritual level.

한/HAN.

he is completely and authentically himself when he’s with you. your relationship is the most easy going thing in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without you. he loves that your humor is the same and you’re both always goofing off. he feels most accomplished if he can make you laugh until your stomachs start hurting. almost everything was a joke to him but the love he had for you was definitely not. he share’s everything with you, his clothes, favorite snacks, deepest secrets, nothing off limits for him. never stops talking about you with the other members, every little thing reminds of him you so he has to announce it. he could be doing something serious and then one of your inside jokes would randomly pop in his head, smiling like an idiot to himself. he was so proud to have you as his lover and best friend.

필릭스/FELIX.

the most sweet, nurturing, individual in the universe. put a million heart emojis next to your contact name and never fails each time to get a stomach full of butterflies every time he’s with you. hears a song that reminds him of you and instantly sends it; will make monthly playlists for you too. he gets lost in your eyes all the time, can’t help but feel his heart beat out his chest by your ethereal beauty. you could be having an in-depth conversation with him and he’d zone out from just looking at you. he can’t stand being away from you when he’s gone and gets real sad and lonely if he can’t hold you >.< will send you LENGTHY messages of what he loves most about you and how much he wants to be with you. if he can’t physically be there, he’ll do all he can to still feel like he’s right beside you.

승민/SEUNGMIN.

thoughtful gestures were his love language. he would notice your shoe is untied as you’re both walking and stop everything he’s doing to fix it for you. will do anything you ask him to at the drop of a hat. does chores and tasks around the house when you aren’t feeling up to it, he never complains about it either which you love. lots and lots of hugs and kisses !! he especially loves hugging you from behind and resting his head within the crevice of your shoulder. he’d kiss your knuckle before dancing with you in the kitchen and acting like an old married couple. the two of you would be slow dancing and lock eyes, your lips would collide as you both sway to the melody of the song. it was soft moments like these that proved seungmin owned all of your love.

아이엔/JEONGIN.

very much into showing PDA and lots of it. doesn’t really care about what the other members think when he touches or kisses you in front of them. likes to give you unexpected forehead and neck kisses, intertwining his fingers with yours while doing so. he bought you a necklace with his initial on it as a gift and you never took it off since the day he gave it to you. whenever he’s gone for long periods of times that necklace would get you through it all. he’d also buy matching couples pajamas and plan a night in where you do face masks and watch movies (^o^). late night cuddling was his forte; you’d be all tangled up in bed together and he’d leave short series of pecks to your cheek until you lull asleep in his arms.

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x gn reader #bang chan fluff #lee know fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #han jisung fluff #felix fluff #seungmin fluff #jeongin fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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