#I’m not going to pretend like I was an angel in that relationship or never did anything wrong but my god the more time goes on the more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seonghwaddict · 2 months

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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi reactions #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

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come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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heeliopheelia · 4 months

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 ��𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.7k

warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing

a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands.

Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.

“Bro, don’t even-”

Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”

“Hey!”

“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”

You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”

“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”

Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”

You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”

PARK JAY

“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”

His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you.

“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”

You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”

Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his.

Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him.

“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”

SIM JAKE

You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.

“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look.

You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.

“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”

Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”

You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”

“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now.

“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”

Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”

PARK SUNGHOON

“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.

You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.

“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”

You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words.

“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”

He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.

KIM SUNOO

“A WHAT?”

Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”

“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.

You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”

“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”

“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl?

“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”

“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.”

YANG JUNGWON

“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.

“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”

“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”

There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair.

“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”

You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”

It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.

You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt.

“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought.

Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”

You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.

“Gosh, you’re so cute.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left.

You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname.

After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face.

“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.

You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”

Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”

“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”

You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you.

“Sorry but I’m not into incestuous relationships.”

“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly.

He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you.

permanent taglist @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt

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moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?

again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3

Thank you for requesting gorgeous !

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.”

“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.”

Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up.

“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.

“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.”

Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper.

“It’s you or me, sweetheart.”

Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful.

“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking.

Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.”

You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.

“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.”

“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?”

Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?”

“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.”

“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.”

“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.”

They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.

“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?”

You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say.

Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?”

“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”

You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones.

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.”

You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you.

“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.”

You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.”

Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you.

“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.”

“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.”

“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three.

“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.”

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.”

Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.”

“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens.

“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.”

“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair.

“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.”

“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.”

“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium.

“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.”

“Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 29 days

Text

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

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boyfhee · 2 months

Text

이희승 、DINE AT HOME

featuring ⋆ bf!heeseung, established relationship

warnings ⋆ satirical mentions of dying, suggestive undertones maybe but nothing too serious he's just flirting >//< , a lil bit of kissing ( 0.8k )

notes ⋆ for @isoobie i luv u bae & i hope u like this. pls excuse any typos i wrote it directly on blr ><

“it’s been fifteen minutes,” heeseung sighs, arms crossed as he walks into your room. “you said you’d be done in t—” a pause, his mouth hanging open as he stares at you, eyes raking all over you, top to bottom, taking in all of you.

“sorry, i was a bit unsure about the dress,” you say while still looking at your reflection in the mirror, twirling a little to the side while examining your dress, or rather how it looks on you. “do you like it?”

nothing comes out of his mouth for a good minute.

heeseung traces your features with his gaze, how well the dress fits you and compliments you. you’re waiting for a response and he’s standing speechlessly, gulping ever so slightly before looking at you in disbelief. “are you trying to kill me?”

“why on earth would i try to kill you?” you frown at his words, turning away from the mirror to look at him.

“by wearing that dress, you definitely are,” and you automatically back against the dressing table when he walks towards you with a scoff, hands instinctively resting on his chest while his arms rest on the table on either side, caging you in between. “and you have the audacity to say you’re unsure,”

“do i look that good?” you ask, lips curling up in a smile. he knows you’re fishing for a compliment— which you don’t have to. he’s always down to shower you in praise, it comes naturally to him.

“you look that good,” and he responds with another smile, fingers playing with the pendant of your rose gold necklace. “so good, it makes me want to kiss you,” he breathes, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and planting a soft kiss, “like here,” with his lips trailing down to your collarbones as he mumbles between words. “and here,” he looks up at your lips, pecking them sweetly. “everywhere,”

you giggle, definitely appreciating his words as you get lost in his sweet and tender kisses. “we’re going to be late,”

and suddenly, heeseung doesn’t mind being late for the dinner reservations anymore.

“i’m thinking we have dinner at home,” he wraps one hand around your waist while the other fiddles with your earring. with the smirk dancing on his face, you know dinner is just an excuse. “just you and me,”

“and food?” you chuckle at his words, knowing the very reason you two made the dinner reservations was your empty fridge and the lack of willingness in both of you to go buy grocery this evening.

his lips press into a thin line as he pretends to think, tilting his head to the side while the eyes stay focused on you. he snickers, humming thoughtfully. “food is. . .not that necessary, if you ask me,”

you know exactly what he’s trying to say. the way he’s talking while his eyes are lingering all over you as if undressing you with his eyes, worshipping every single part of you. it’s beyond his understanding how you manage to look good in everything. he might have to take you shopping more often if this is what he’s in for.

“you’re acting up,” you poke his cheeks, squinting your eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed.

“your fault, angel,” and he swiftly shifts the blame to you, both his hands on your waist now, caressing and drawing random patterns over the cloth.

“so, it’s my fault now?”

“yeah, you chose to wear this dress knowing absolutely well how much i love it on you,” he nods with a pout, trying to look innocent as if you’re the bad one here for having him wrapped around your fingers. “and now you’re driving me crazy so you don’t get to complain,”

you laugh— heeseung never really fails to amuse with his words. it’s interesting to see how his mind works. not the first time he’s blaming you for making him ‘act up’ and definitely not the last. you would argue it’s just another dress, but heeseung would say otherwise. it’s the dress made for you, and you— made only for him.

the clock on the wall behind him manages to pull you out of your thoughts. you two were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago. you gently push him away, although his grip around your waist tightens, refusing to let you go. “okay, i won’t. now can we leave?”

he looks as if contemplating something, still not letting you go. “how about i steal a kiss first?” he suggests with a click of his tongue, the smirk climbing its way back to his lips.

“how about no?” you tease, removing his hands from your waist.

“too bad,” and he tilts your chin up with his finger, backing you against the table once again, pressing himself against you. he leans in with a scoff, brushing his lips against yours. “i’m going to do it anyway,”

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k-hotchoisan · 9 months

Text

Seven minutes in Heaven, but make it San (san x fem!reader)

He knows he fucked up so instead of seven minutes of heaven, you give him seven minutes of hell.

//different au from mingi’s 🌹//

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, sub! Choi san x dom! Reader, orgasm denial, edging, choking, unprotected sex, blowjobs, handjobs; maybe I need a job, so much cum 🩷

Word count: 2.4K

A/n: holy fuck this was filthy. Some Angel wanted a San version of seven minutes in heaven so here you go, pretty. Enjoy the filth 🩷

San knew he fucked up. The moment his friends peer pressured him into choosing between two girls during truth or dare, he knew he was fucked. He hastily chose one of the girl’s name within the circle, and she blushed. She fucking blushed. Well, in his defence, it was a truth question, and that no one knew about you and San’s relationship, at least not yet, because he told you he was going to announce it during the gathering.

But now in this circle of sins he was in, kinda gave him not much of a choice, and before he realised it, her name just slips out of his mouth, and your mood immediately darkens. You very well knew the kind of friends he has when they play drinking games, and they definitely loved the thrill of burning bridges and matching couples, sometimes a little too much. The once bubbly and innocent persona of you dims when the possessiveness starts seeping in. You smile, of course you do, but it was nothing angelic nor innocent about the smile, it was dripping with pure poison. Your eyes lock onto San and he’s definitely struggling to meet your gaze, his neck and face flushed from the alcohol and his mistake.

San takes the bottle and spins it, the bottle landing on said girl he picked. You lean back, your smile still plastered as you stare daggers into him. She giggles as she chooses dare and of course, they dare her and San make out. San’s eyes widen in fear, as his eyes dart to yours, and your expression stays the same—an eyebrow raise and a pissed smile. It’s like a warning—almost a dare for him fucking try.

The girl only laughs and declines, stating that she has a slight flu, and she opts for a hug instead. Well, not any better but lesser of the two evils at least. She embraces San into a hug and the room erupts into cheers and laughter.

Everyone but you.

You swear to the heavens that you were not a jealous person, just a tad bit possessive. Jealousy and possessiveness were two totally different concepts. And possessiveness mattered in the nature of your relationship.

When the group finally calms down, she spins the bottle, landing right at you. You feign surprise, almost honoured that the bottle chose you next. You don’t hesitate to say “Dare”, with a pretty smile on your face.

“Confident aren’t you?” Mingi teases, nudging your arm. You shrug with a smile, wondering what shit your friends were gonna throw to you.

“Seven minutes in heaven”, Yeosang exclaims. “With a guy of your choice.” You raise your eyebrows. A fucking god given chance.

San feels himself getting more nervous as he starts to wonder if you would pull a random guy in just to get back at him. He knows he done fucked up, but you’d never do that, right?

“Choi San”, you pick, after pretending to take your time think, your gaze never leaving his. San’s heartbeat quickens because he doesn’t expect it. He’s relieved that you chose him but oh god, you sure do look pissed.

Your arm snakes around his as you stare down at the girl, with a look of confusion plastered on her face as you smile and say, “sorry babe, I’m borrowing him for a bit.”

The moment the doors close behind the both of you, San is immediately pushed onto the bed by you. His eyes are wide with fear, and something else—exhilaration. He’s wondering what you’re gonna do to him and that makes his cock harden so fucking quick, and your gaze never leaving his as you strip right in front of him just adding on to the arousal.

He’s splayed onto the bed, slightly panting as he continues to stare at you removing every piece of clothing cleanly before walking over to pull off his cargo pants, his boxers already starting to soak from the precum. You straddle him once his pants are on the floor.

“Baby I-“ and his sentence gets cut short when your fingers grab his jaw to pull him close for an aggressive kiss, one that makes San’s head float and his cock even harder. He’s totally melting under your touch and dominance.

He whines as you pull back, your hand still clenching his jaw. He’s breathless, so blown away by the quick make out session.

“So, you picked her?” You pout, your fingers now trailing down his neck, feeling each beautiful bump of his veins and arteries. Your touch is so light that it makes San feel sensitive as he shivers.

“I don’t! I promise babe, it was nothing serious. You know how my friends are when we drink-fuck. Besides, they don’t know we’re together”, he runs his mouth, and you remove his top before palming his erection, causing him to groan.

“Really now? The hug must have felt great right? Someone else’s tits just pressing onto yours, it probably felt fucking amazing for a slut like you”, you hum tracing down his chiseled body, so tempted to fucking squeeze his tits. Your eyes flutter back to his as he continues to deny that, despite the way you said it only causing him to harden even more.

“N-no. It’s not like t-that”, he barely manages as you press the fabric of his underwear onto his leaking tip, and rub, watching San lose his grip on reality.

“Sannie”, you call out as your hand caresses his cheek with utmost poison, as San looks back at you with a glazed look. “Good boys don’t lie.”

San knows he’s not allowed to touch you, unless you allow him to, and he feels his heart hammering in his ears, dizzy from trying to figure out what you’re trying to get at.

“I’m not lying, I promise babe”, he says, genuinely. You know he would never lie, but he still had to be punished. You reach out to grab San’s phone which was lying on the bed after you pushed him down, and set seven minutes on the timer before throwing his phone haphazardly on the bed, right beside him.

You sigh as your attention goes back to him, letting your fingers trail along his broad chest, stopping at his nipples. You lick both your thumbs before flicking his nipples, and that elicits a cry from San as his hips buck into you.

“Seven minutes isn’t long actually. I think it’s a pretty generous amount of time for you”, you say, rubbing and pulling his nipples, watching San squirm beneath you, the wet stain his underwear only growing bigger.

“Generous amount of time for me?” He repeats through hazed eyes.

“Yeah. A generous amount of time to hold you from cumming”, you reply nonchalantly. “I’m not letting you cum until the timer rings, darling.”

That sends shivers down San’s spine and he whines, both fear and arousal intertwining. He’s oh, so fucked, and he could only reply, “yes.”

A smile spreads across your face as you immediately got to work—pulling off his boxers as his cock springs out, so big and hard. You wet your hand with your spit as you start pumping him, more beautiful moans escape from his lips as his hips begin to automatically fuck your hand. As you continue to drive him up the wall, you lean into his neck, and suck against his soft skin, and that releases even more whimpers as you mark a couple of deep red bites and hickeys around his neck.

“I can’t believe I have to mark you like this to remind you who you belong to”, you sigh again, flicking your wrist up, earning a soft cry from him as more precum seeps out of his cockhead. He murmurs “sorry, baby, I’m sorry”, as you continue to pump his cock, with short intervals of teasing his nipples.

His cock twitches in your palm and that’s your signal to let go, watching San groan as he’s first orgasm get denied, his hands gripping the sheets.

“We’re only getting started”, you remind him as you sink yourself to face his cock. San’s breathing hitches.

It was definitely going to be the longest seven minutes of his life.

Your lips wrapped around his cock as you bob your head, making sure your tongue feels up the under area of his cock—where he’s the most sensitive. You take his whole length in your mouth, feeling him at the back of your throat as you clench on him and a loud broken whimper is heard from him.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, he cries out, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes as his cock twitches in pain when you leave him dry and empty for the second round.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” You ask, letting his cock leave your lips with a pop, his precum dripping off from the corner of your lips as you pepper kisses to his pretty little cock. Through his ragged pants, he barely makes out, “I shouldn’t have let her touch me at all. I’ve been bad.”

You don’t reply him, only going back to sucking his soul of his cock as his hips rise to fit himself as much as he could in your mouth. He feels his stomach tighten again, and you see the flex his abdomen does when he’s going to cum, and he’s crying, “fuck fuck fuck, I’m so close, I’m cumming-“

And your lips leave his cock.

“Fuckkkkkk”, San whines, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the sheets.

You ignore his pleas, your eyes glance over to the timer—four minutes left. You look back him with the softest gaze, as you comb your boyfriend’s hair back. “I’m gonna fuck you”, you tell him and it sounds like a threat, and also it goes directly to his cock. He’s so fucked. He knows he can’t last in you for long, let alone for another X amount of minutes left.

San can only watch, wide-eye and hopeless as you shift up to straddle him once more, only rubbing your wet cunt against his very wet cock. He throws his head back against the sheets, his chest heaving as you grind up on him.

Being denied of three orgasms, the fourth one builds up rapidly as he attempts to push his hips up to rut against you, his cock leaking thick, white precum already. “Please. I don’t think I can take it”, he whimpers, this time his tears streak down his face as his cock twitches pathetically against his abdomen, thick fluid dripping down his cockhead, mixing with your juices. And you immediately slow down, another beautiful cry from the male underneath you as his orgasm slips away from him.

You almost feel bad, almost. But seven minutes still wasn’t up. But you do let him touch you this time, and immediately, his hands are all over you, grasping at every inch of skin he brushes against. He claws against your thighs, leaving pretty marks in his wake. You wipe his tears away and press a loving kiss on his lips as you position his cockhead right at your fluttering hole, as you sink in so fucking easily.

“Oh my fucking god, fuck”, San cries out, his cock just twitching in your pussy. A sigh leaves your lips, feeling so full as San’s cock hits all the right spots perfectly. San’s eyes meet yours, as you stroke his hair affectionately.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” You ask, rocking your hips painfully slow. San can’t answer, he’s so fucked out and he wants to cum so fucking badly. Your hands wrap around his neck, as you force him to look at you. He nods desperately, just wanting a release after being denied four whole orgasms.

“Please, let me cum, please, I’m begging you”, he strains, and you feel his thighs trembling from beneath you. Your gaze flicker to the timer, and you smile at him.

“Lucky you, baby. There’s only a minute left.”

San is frantic and borderline crazed right now, trying to hold it off for the final minute, and his soul almost leaves his body as you fucking begin bouncing on his cock, the sounds of your moans mixed with the squelching from his cock fucking into your cunt sending him off the edge.

“Thirty seconds, baby”, you remind him as you feel the knot in your stomach from how fucking filled San’s cock is in you. Fuck, you were so gonna cum too at this rate. You don’t tell him about the final ten, because you simply speed up, leaning forward to bounce on his dick better, the sounds of skin slapping now louder than ever.

“Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum, can I cum, please?” San stares at you pleadingly, eyes wet with desperation. You don’t answer him, only grabbing his jaw in your hands as you fuck him even harder. “When the alarm rings”, is all you reply. “Be a good boy.”

And the alarm goes off, so does Choi San. His eyes are barely open as his lips are parted in absolute bliss as a long, drawn out whine of pleasure and relief washes over him as his cock shoots ropes and ropes of thick, white cum right into your tight hole. At that moment your orgasm hits you, seeing your boyfriend so fucked out and pretty like that, as you lean back and squirt all over him, tapping and rubbing your pussy, making sure it gets all over his pretty fucking face as San continues to cum into your pussy. The overstimulation of your cunt clenching on his cock only milks out even more cum, a thick load just oozing right out of your cunt as his cock is softening in you.

He pulls out and winces, the sensitivity tingling through this body. He sits up, and you take a good look at him, and oh fucking boy, he looks so fucking good, covered in sweat, panting, his hair combed back, his nipples looking swollen, hickies littered all over his neck, cum and squirt just all over him. “Fuck, you look so fucking hot like that”, is the first thing that leaves San’s mouth, causing you to break into laughter as you lean in for another greedy kiss which he never denies you.

You reach out for tissue on the nightstand, to at least clean the cum running down your thighs, which San, for his life could not keep his eyes off. San cleans himself up as you pull up your panties and wear your clothes back on. You turn to San, who is about to put his top back on, and stop him. San is confused for a moment as he stays put, feeling your fingers tips trace over the love bites on his neck.

No not enough. You squeeze his tits, a small gasp leaving his lips which turns into a moan when you suck near his nipple—another gorgeous hickey blooms. Two more bloom on his chest and you were done. Your hands graze his nipples, causing him to whimper. “I think this is a good way to let them know of our relationship”, you hum, admiring your artwork. “We can leave like this.”

Pink creeps up to his neck and cheeks. You stare at him and a pout appears. “What, you want to let her know you want her?” San shakes his head quickly. “N-no! I only belong to you”, he says through flushed cheeks.

“That’s my good boy”, you smile as you stroke his hair as San completely melts around you. You take his hand gently and kiss it before opening the door.

Everyone turns their attention to the both of you, and boy, did their jaws hang open.

“Bro, what the fuck did you guys do in there?” Mingi asks, staring at the disheveled state the both of you were in, and his eyes land on San’s body, which is so prettily decorated.

“Yeah, we wanted to announce that we’ve been dating for awhile now, but seems like he got a little carried away with spin the bottle”, you respond, drawing circles in San’s palm.

All of their eyes follow the both of you as you and San return to your seats. Your eyes meet the girl’s and you giggle.

“Sorry it took awhile, I brought him back.”

The girl who he hugged isn’t fazed, she only laughs in response, saying, “oh my god, fuck off. Jesus Christ the both of you.” You only laugh back as your eyes meet San’s and his gaze reflects something so affectionate and delicate.

Yeah, that was probably one of the best seven minutes of his life.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #ateez san #choi san smut #choi san #ateez x y/n #kpop fics #ateez headcanons #reader x ateez

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dodgeirs · 2 months

Text

⊹ ᳝ ࣪ hotch helping to take off your makeup.

cw. bf!aaron, confirmed whiney!reader, established relationship, fluff, whipped aaron

wc. 622

a/n. just a little small, small snack while the poll finishes up 🫶 resonating a little hard with this one bc i was so sleepy taking off my makeup today. need me a hotchy rn 😞

"you've gotta stay still f'me, honey." aaron urged.

"'m tired. let me sleep, please." you whined. resting your head onto aaron's abdomen, and wrapping your arms around his waist. finding comfort in his soft stomach.

"i know, but just let me finish this up. then you can sleep all you'd like." he proposed sweetly. you groaned at his words, and his actions as he holds your face in his hands so you'd look up at him. you instead concentrated on how his thumbs were rubbing you cheeks and the fact that he looked like an angel from the bright bathroom lights and his tall stature. maybe you really were that drunk.

"i don't even care." that was a lie and he knew it.

"you don't? the last time you went out and slept in your makeup you complained, and then went on to blame me for not performing boyfriend duties by taking your makeup off." he explains. giving your forehead one more swipe of the cotton pad drowned in micellar water before throwing it in the trash.

you reluctantly removed your arms from his waist so he could get a facial rag wet, he was going to wash your face for you too.

you feel bad now. and despite the pout displayed on your face he was right, as much as you'd hate to admit, those words were very much yours. looking down at your hands, now in your lap you pick at your fingernails. aaron is being nice by helping you out, and you're being whiney.

"what's going on in that head, hm?"

picking you head head up to look at him, to really take him in. he's in his pj pants and a grey shirt. he was no where near sleeping, but he had stayed up for you to return home, being dropped off by a friend. compared to when aaron had to come pick you up the last time you went out with friends and got drunk, that was fairly early in your relationship and you were thankful he wasn't still in his office or on a case.

"'m sorry." you're sure your pout looks more so looks like a frown now.

“what for?”

“i’m being inconsiderate.”

aaron instantly hangs the damp rag onto the rag bar, moving to stand in front of you.

“and why do you think that?” he questions. eye brows doing his signature hotchner furrow.

“because you’re so nice. and i did say i wanted you to do those things, yet i’m whining about it now.”

“oh, honey.” aaron begins. crouching down so he'd be on your level as he spoke to you, his knees cracking in the process. causing you to bite down on the smile that formed from the noise.

“y’know i don't mind doing any of this, right? and that i enjoy being able to take care of you. in any state that you're in, even when you get whiney.”

his words help reassure you. “yes. but, don't you ever get annoyed when i whine?”

“honey, i could never get annoyed by you. you're also drunk so it makes sense that you're more whinier than normal.”

“hey!” you gasped. hitting at his shoulder, pretending to be offending at aaron’s jab and the fact that he's finding it amusing.”

“okay, okay. not funny, noted.”

there's a moment of calm where the two of you look at each other smiling.

“y’know, i love you?” you question.

“you only tell me it a hundred times a day.” aaron responds with a wide smile. getting up from his spot and in the process giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“i love you more. let's wash your face so i can get you to bed.”

#ᥫ᭡ dodgeirs writes.#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff

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nkplanet · 6 months

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WHICH TROPE ARE YOU?

PAIRING: enhypen x gn!reader SUMMARY: what trope do you and the enhypen members share? WARNINGS: a smidge of angst in jungwon + heeseung’s, all set in high school apart from jay + heeseung’s, implied toxic parents in jungwon’s, written on my phone so the formatting might be weird

NOTE: thank u sm for all the love on my last post and 155 followers!! i rlly appreciate you guys 🫶🫶 also i’m definitely gonna rewrite some of these as actual fics bc i love them (looking at u jungwon and niki)

— HEESEUNG 희승 — second chance romance personally i’m not a big fan of this trope but it just fits heeseung so well like ??? hello yes i would give u a second chance. there’s no doubt in my mind that cheating would not be involved, instead it was something that happened when you two were young and immature, but when you meet again you’ve grown and can continue to do so together

it had ended awfully the first time. neither of you were particularly mature, and a heated argument had caused your entire relationship had come crashing down. sixteen year old you would always regret the way you gave heeseung the cold shoulder for a reason you couldn’t even remember, and the way you had both yelled and screamed at each other. you hadn’t spoken for years when, all of a sudden, you bumped into him in a cafe. then at work. in the park. after six years of no contact, he was everywhere. it was like the universe was telling you to give him another chance. eventually, your walls crumbled, and heeseung made his way back into your heart. the two of you had never been happier.

others under the cut!

— JAY 제이 — fake dating jay is perfect for this trope imo, especially when it comes to fake dating at a wedding. put me in a psych ward bc whenever i think abt him in a suit i go insane. also your whole family would love him because he’s such a gentleman. he’s so perfect

it was your aunts wedding, and all of your siblings were bringing their significant others as plus ones. your brother had joked about how you’d be the only single one in the wedding party and, rather than face the humiliation, you lied and told him you did in fact have a boyfriend. it was a lie you forgot about until two weeks before the wedding, when your aunt mentioned being excited to meet the mysterious man. you panicked, running to tell jay about your issue. while you were contemplating telling your family that the mysterious man had broken up with you, jay said “why don’t i pretend to be your boyfriend? just for the day?” except, his fake boyfriend touches didn’t feel very fake. your aunt remarked that the two of you reminded her of herself and your new uncle when they were young. by the end of the night, you and jay were sharing kisses outside the reception. yeah, fake boyfriend my ass.

— JAKE 제이크 — you fell first, he fell harder jake seems like such a loser (affectionately) that he’d be the one to fall first, but just imagine that he doesn’t realise his feelings are romantic. he just thinks everyone sees their best friends that way and when he finds out otherwise? oh he’s head over heels in love with you. such a loser. i love him

the way you and jake interact is far from platonic. you had developed a crush on him when you were just fifteen, and since then you'd been trying to drop hints. when he started reciprocating your admittedly flirtatious gestures, you thought you had a chance, but he never made a move. in fact, jake never realised that he shared those feelings until one of his friends pointed out that the two of you were incredibly flirty with each other. he thought everyone saw their best friends as gorgeous, as an angel sent from above, as someone who they'd willingly spend the rest of their life with. after that it was hard for him to see you in any light other than romantic. when you asked him out he practically screamed yes. he is absolutely head over heels in love

— SUNGHOON 성훈 — opposites attract i was gonna pick grumpy x sunshine for him but he’s not exactly grumpy so opposites attract it is!! he’s reserved and only really lets loose around those he considers close, whereas you’re loud and bubbly with lots of friends. one of my fav tropes for a reason

sunghoon’s attention was brought to you via your laughter. it was loud and bright, and he’d never heard anything like it. since then, he’d yearned for the sound. though he lacked the confidence to actually ask you out, he began seeking your company. he’d study with you in the library, would offer to walk you home. things that friends do. you, on the other hand, were absolutely smitten. sunghoon was quiet and a little mysterious. you could never read him, and yet you were absolutely entranced by him. you thought he was absolutely gorgeous, perhaps one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. one day, while sunghoon was walking you home in the rain, you’d stopped and turned to face him. “what are we?” you’d asked. sunghoon remembers blanking immediately, not knowing how to reply. instead of words, he answered you with a kiss.

— SUNOO 선우 — best friend’s brother okay but imagine: you go over to ur best friends house and end up gossiping with their brother and all of a sudden,, he’s soooo attractive? and then he starts developing this crush but he can’t date you because you’re his siblings best friend. there’s probably be some secret dating involved (which i’m also a sucker for tbh)

you'd been harbouring a crush on sunoo for a while now, never acting on it because he was your best friend's brother. you looked forward to the weekly gossip sessions that the two of you shared when your friend left you together arguably more than you looked forward to seeing your friend (but don't tell her that). little did you know, sunoo felt the same. fleeting glances and not-so-platonic touches began growing between you two. eventually, sunoo asked you out. you wanted to say yes so badly but couldn't betray your friend like that. instead, you began dating in secret. it was only two months of sneaking around, 'jokingly' flirting, and kissing in places where she wouldn't see before she finally exploded, yelling that you two were gross but had her blessing. going public only increased the pda by tenfold, and people quickly grew sick of your sappy conversations. not that either of you cared, of course.

— JUNGWON 정원 — academic rivals turned lovers [full fic!] ACADEMIC RIVALS TURNED LOVERS!!!!! i love this trope sm and i think it fits won so well. i was gonna originally give this to niki but he wasn’t rlly in school. so. jungwon it is!! i can see you two as the top two in your year and always competing when one day it all comes crashing down for you. jungwon is suddenly? nice? and we go from there 🤭🤭

yang jungwon had never been the nicest person to you. sure, he was never really mean per-se, but the two of you were so competitive that nothing said was particularly nice. you and jungwon seemed to constantly be on par with each other academically, consistently being the top two students in your year. in english and sciences, you usually pulled ahead, while jungwon excelled in maths and other subjects. the rivalry between you was so tense that even the teachers tried to calm it down but to no avail. the reason behind your competitiveness was your parents. the pressure they put on you was immense, and one day you just broke. you’d had a fight with them, and the next day flunked a biology test. your grades began slipping from then on, and jungwon began to take notice. he stopped making quips, instead resorting to leaving some snacks or study tips on your desk when he thought you weren’t looking. he began giving you sympathetic looks until you eventually confronted him, telling him you didn’t want his pity. it wasn’t pity, though, it was worry. your relationship changed after that, no longer rivals but a little more than friends.

— NI-KI 니키 — childhood friends to lovers/first love OKAY HEAR ME OUT. u were childhood friends. niki realises his feelings and he’s all like oh no i can’t feel this way abt my bff :( and tried to pull away from u but ur like ??? yes tf and that’s how u become lovers

niki had been your closest friend for longer than you could remember. in both of your houses there sat baby pictures of the two of you together. you’d grown up together, going to all the same schools and most of the same clubs. in highschool, you were known as inseparable - if someone wanted one of you, they got both. but one day, niki started pulling away. it was fine, you told yourself, he was just growing up. you both were. but when he stopped answering your calls and texts and started actively avoiding you, you were hurt. you’d been by each others sides for so long that you didn’t really know how to live without him. the truth was, he’d discovered feelings that he’d never felt about anyone before. he knew he shouldn’t feel like this about his best friend, but he couldn’t help it. he was miserable without you, so much so that his friends were telling him to just ask you out. they told him that you definitely felt the same, so he took the leap. and thank god he did. you’re his first love, his everything.

#nkplanet 🪐#nkplanet’s fics 🪐#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fluff #enhypen comfort #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sim jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni ki x reader

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ja3yun · 6 months

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The Moon That Sometimes Shines | L.HS (TSTAB Alt. Scene)

lee heeseung x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, dirty talk, choking, pet names (baby girl, angel), alcohol, slight exhibitionism, if I missed anything lmk!

wc: 3.6k

synopsis: after seeing your ex-lover jaeyun and his fiance being close to one another, heeseung offers you a much needed distraction.

a/n: i accidentally deleted the original post so here I am at 3am re-uploading it :( anyway like i said the first time, this is part of the tstab series original plotline before i changed it but can be read as a stand-alone one-shot since this is an alternative scene.

tstab masterlist

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly.

“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.

Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.

After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20.

Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so fucking good, angel. If there wasn’t such a thing as bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lace detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.

Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned.

The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications.

The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturdays when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.

Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.

Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two Baby Guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.

“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”

“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom.

“I don’t know,” Of course, Heeseung was attractive, even more attractive now than 4 years ago. His perfect nose, attractive side profile, and when he smirked…god when he smirked. But could you truly do that to Jaeyun?

Your drinks are now in front of you both, “Come on, let’s dance.”

One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.

Everyone was enjoying themselves and as your eyes land on Yeoreum and Jaeyun, you realise just how much fun they’re having.

Jaeyun’s hand is caressing her thigh, his tongue lapping up her mouth, and her tits are pressing into his chest. If you were closer you swear you could hear them moaning.

It’s hard to watch, your true love tangled in someone else, but that’s reality now.

Your view is obstructed by a broad chest clad in a loose My Chemical Romance t-shirt. Heeseung.

“What did I tell you about only focusing on me, baby girl?” His hands find home on your waistline and pinch them slightly to get you to look up at him.

“It’s hard, Hee” You confess, eyes glazed from the alcohol and forming tears. It was pathetic how upset you got over Jaeyun and Yeoreum considering you were the reason they found each other. If you hadn't left it would be your mouth smothering him with kisses.

Heeseung’s hands soothe over your hips, applying pressure the closer he gets to your ass. “I know, angel. It’s so hard to see someone you love with someone else.”

His eyes are staring deep into yours as if he’s confessing something to you.

What you don’t know is that back in school Heeseung was infatuated by you. The way you spoke, the way you laughed, the way you kissed. Whenever you kissed Jaeyun he would see how your tongue would move with his best friends and wish, no, pray that it was his just once.

He didn’t want forever, he just wanted once.

Once just so he could taste you. Heeseung knew you would always belong to his best friend, there was no doubt. Even back in the day he wouldn’t ever come between you.

But it isn’t like those days anymore. You aren’t Jaeyun’s and Jaeyun isn’t yours.

Obviously, he felt guilty for even conjuring up such an image of you and him but as you stare up, eyes glistening and hazed he can’t help but push the guilt to the back of his mind.

“Angel, only look at me from now on, okay?” He shouts it loud enough for you to hear over the club music.

Is it just you or have his lips gotten bigger over the last few years?

“Something on my face, Y/N?”

Oh. You’re staring at him. Yet you can’t stop. His smirk is spiraling you into a tizzy, his tongue poking just enough to lick his bottom lip. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you want to kiss him. Really badly want to kiss him.

Instead of responding, you lift your hands to his chest, splaying them over each of his pecks. He’s so toned under the t-shirt you can’t help but squeeze subtlety.

Bringing his lips down to your ear he whispers, “Want a distraction, baby girl?”

God yes

Heeseung’s breath is hot in your ear and the wetness of his lips is just barely touching your lobe. It’s driving you crazy. But…Jaeyun.

“What abou-”

He cuts you short when his teeth nibble the shell of your ear before he speaks, “Shhh. Told you I would help you this week didn’t I?” You can feel his smile widen as his lips ghost down your neck.

Shutting your eyes you try to focus on your breathing. Is it wrong to indulge in this? Jaeyun is over there with his fiance kissing and touching her, so why do you feel guilty for wanting to do the same with Heeseung?

Because it’s his best friend you say to yourself.

“C’mon, Y/N. I’m sure if I touched your pretty cunt right now I’d feel how much you want me.” There’s a stir in your stomach as he utters the words into the base of your neck.

Honestly, until now your brain had been so wrapped up in overthinking you hadn’t noticed how wet you had gotten. Somehow from the moment he touched your hips, your pussy pulsed, wishing his hands and mouth were all over it.

Heeseung’s head lifts and his eyes look into yours just like before, this time they’re filled with desire. He’s begging for the green light, the okay go, to prove his theory right.

And you give him it.

You allow him to touch you somewhere he has been dreaming about for years with a single nod. Sneakily, his hand reaches down and his middle finger runs over your soaked underwear. You bite your lip as he applies some added pressure to your clit.

“I was right, baby girl.” His arrogance in this situation is only adding fuel to your fire, “You’re fucking soaking. Is it all for me?”

You can’t look him in the eye out of sheer embarrassment because how did he get you so worked up like this so quickly? The only other person that has been able to do this is Jaeyun.

Leaning down so his lips hover over yours you can tell he’s holding back from kissing you despite his finger literally sitting atop your clit. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” It comes out breathy and needy. “For you.”

Heeseung closes his eyes. There is no going back if he kisses you right now and he knows it. “Tell me to kiss you.” His eyes don’t open but the way his hand massages your cunt you can tell he’s desperate, “Please, baby girl.”

Instead of words, you reach up to kiss him and let go of all inhibitions. Your actions cause Heeseung’s hand to move away from your vagina and back to gripping your hips firmly.

He inhales deeply while he kisses you like he is trying to use all his senses. Tasting you, hearing you, touching you, he is taking you all in. The only thing he wasn’t doing was looking at you, his eyes shut from the pleasure but he knows how you look because every time you kissed Jaeyun he memorised every detail of your face.

Heeseung’s hands grabbed your ass and you moaned from your throat while his lips still attacked yours, the noise sounds like music to his ears and it just makes him more eager to keep going. The alcohol running through his veins pushes him to his next action.

“Jump.” He instructs and you obey, jumping so you can wrap your legs around his waist. Even the feeling of you like this was heaven to him. He genuinely wished he could have gotten to you first all those years ago but he’ll settle for right now. “You listen to me so well,” Heeseung whispers against your lips and that’s when he sees you’re too far gone with lust to even care what he’s saying. Your kisses get more needy as he carries you to the back of the club.

The on-lookers have faces of disgust as you practically dry hump Heeseung all the way to a dark area in the club but you don’t care, you don’t even notice because all you can focus on is the aching radiating from your core and how his mouth molds perfectly to yours.

“Fuck, angel, you don’t even give a shit if people watch, hmm?” He’s mocking you and all you can do is whimper and ask for more.

Perching you up on a shallow shelf-like surface attached to the back wall you instantly spread your legs open and he slots himself in between, deepening the kiss. Heeseung’s 6” stature towers over you even when you’re sat on a high surface. He always loved how small you looked when you stood next to him.

His left hand is now lost in your hair making a mess of your once neat curls and his right was keeping you steady on the ledge. Pulling away he looks at your state, “You look so fucked out and I haven’t even started yet, baby girl.” Your skirt has turned into a belt due to it bunching up, leaving your whole bottom half exposed. Well almost. Your thin white panties are the only thing keeping you decent, and Heeseung needs them gone.

Luckily, the club is so dark and no one can see your uncovered core as Heeseung yanks them down your legs and holds it in front of you with one finger. “I can keep these, yeah?” Before you can answer he’s shoving them in his pocket. In the morning you would be mad because they’re your favourite pair, but right now you couldn’t care less.

Just like before his middle finger glides in between your folds collecting your juices but as fast as his digit was on you, it was off again, bringing it to his mouth and sucking on it. You can’t properly see his face but you can see how his eyes roll back, “I would eat your little pussy so good if it wasn’t so obvious what I was doing.” He didn’t mind people watching but if he could avoid it he would, and being on his knees with his face buried between your thighs would certainly draw attention.

“Hee,” Your voice is a whisper but he just hears it and leans down, “Please make me forget.”

Ah. Jaeyun. He almost forgot that’s why you agreed to let him do this. To distract you from his best friend and your broken heart. Guilt and a little something else fill Heeseung’s heart but he quickly pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind when your hand is palming his cock.

Throwing his head back exposes his adam’s apple and quick as lightening your mouth is on it, kissing it softly. “Jesus fuck, Y/N.” He huffs and his hands push you away, leaving you confused. “I need to touch you, baby girl, I gotta hear those sweet moans, or else I’ll go crazy.” Granted, he’s going to go crazy either way, whether it was from you touching him or him touching you, but he is aware he probably doesn’t have a lot of time and he can’t let this opportunity to make you cum slip from him. “Be good for me angel.”

One single kiss on your forehead and then he’s giving you what you want. Two of his fingers are teasing your entrance, rubbing circles gently around it. “Can you take the two of them or want me to start with one?” Heeseung might have been clouded by desire but he also wants you to be comfortable, not pushing you too far.

“I can take it.” You don’t care if you actually can’t, you just need to feel something.

“Of course you can, baby girl. You’re so good.” His words of affirmation are similar yet different to Jaeyun’s. He’s more firm with his words than your ex-lover, like he’s making you think you’re taking the lead but in actual fact, he’s always in charge. “Going to let me make you feel good? Forget about him?” All you can do is nod and crane your neck up to kiss him but he pulls away and raises his eyebrows, “Not going to ask? After I’ve been so kind to ask you if I can touch you?”

All while he’s speaking down to you, his fingers are still teasing your entrance. He doesn’t stop, that is another difference between Jaeyun and him. When Jaeyun teased you he would stop altogether and have you mewling for him to go back to what he was doing. But Heeseung knows it pays to play the long game, give you a constant taste of what he could offer, and make you beg for something you were already getting. It got him off so much to know his partners needed not what he could give them, but what more he could do to satisfy them.

“C-can I kiss you.”

“Yes, you can, angel.” And then without a breath, you’re kissing him, his fingers keeping their circular motions at an agonising pace. “How hard was it to ask, hmm?” He smirks and you could slap him for being so hot and annoying all at once if you weren’t so desperate.

You go to speak but moan instead as he puts some pressure down below, “Huh? You want to ask for something else, angel?” He didn’t have time to be doing this but it was so fun to watch you like this.

“Can you..” This is so embarrassing. When was the last time you asked for someone to finger you? “Can you fuck me…with your fingers?”

“Would be my pleasure, baby girl.” His middle and ring fingers slip inside you with a little effort, “Jesus, angel, how long has it been since someone fucked you?”

“4 months.” Not that you were counting but it was 4 months and 3 days. If you knew the time right now you could probably pinpoint the exact hours and minutes too. You were so busy with finals for Uni and work you didn’t have the time to indulge in your needs. That was probably why Heeseung was having such an effect on you.

Probably just because it was Heeseung in general.

He’s fucking you open, stretching you out so good you can’t help but grab his band t-shirt for more stability. “Hold my shoulders, it’ll be better.” It’s like you’re his lap dog the way you just follow all his instructions. You mumble an ‘okay’ and grip his shoulders tight. Once he feels you get more secure, he goes harder.

Almost like he is trying to feel every inch of your insides his fingertips pushing hard against your upper walls, just how you like it. As he feels your forehead resting against his chest he knows he’s got you. “You like it when I fuck you like this with my fingers?” and you nod, but that’s not what he’s looking for. His free hand grabs your jaw and forcefully lifts your head to look at him, “You know I need to hear you.” God, he is so hot.

“I love it, Heeseung.” Your winded words make him smug.

“You want to ask for anything else?” The grip on your jaw loosens and the back of his hand and fingers glide smoothly over your neck. Again here he is making it seem like you’re in control but you know exactly what he wants, “Anything at all?”

You almost can’t get the words out because he’s curling his fingers deep inside you, “Ch-”

“I’m sorry, baby girl I didn’t catch that?” He’s so self-satisfied with himself that he's getting everything he ever wanted.

“Choke me.”

And just like that his strong hand is wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough. Heeseung knows the test the waters of your limits but honestly, you don’t have any, none that you know of anyway.

Heeseung’s hands feel different from Jaeyun’s, stronger, just like his words. The tightness of his hand cutting off your airways makes your eyes roll back and spine arch. “So beautiful, angel.”

The sweet words leaving his mouth don’t match up to his tight grip. Your head hits the wall sharply as he pushes you back but it only adds to the sensation of pleasure you’re feeling.

“Hee, m’gonna cum.” It’s not so much a warning because you’re cumming around his fingers. His digits hammer into you, the muscle in his arm ripples as he gives you all he has. Heeseung wants you to remember this he’s going hard and cutting off your air.

You’re such a beautiful sight.

“Doing so well for me, angel.” His pink glossy lips replace his hand on your throat as he kisses you where he knows there will be bruises. “So fucking beautiful.”

As your chest heaves and lungs gasp for air, you realise this is the first time you haven’t thought about Jaeyun. Mission accomplished, you suppose.

“Heeseung?”

“Yeah, pretty?” His hand retreats from your pussy as he stands back up to loom over you again.

“Thank you.” Biting your lip you want to say more but you don’t exactly know what to say.

His fingers tap your mouth, indicating for you to open it and you answer his silent command and open wide. The next thing you know he’s shoving his fingers into your mouth and you taste yourself. This is a new experience for you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it and hope it isn’t the last time you’re sucking your cum off someone’s fingers. And if it happened to be Heeseung again, you definitely wouldn’t say no.

“Remember this whenever you think about him.” He starts staring deep into your eyes, “And if you ever need a refresher, you know what room I’m in.”

#i am an idiot #it's been a rough day okay my ult group disbanded #my head isn't in the right place #enha smut #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #aj writes

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bakugoushotwife · 8 months

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kinktober day seventeen: sex pollen kink

>>> god i love me some yuuta he is such a beautiful angel and deserves this! this started out as face-fucking kink but turned into this for storyline purposes LMFAOOO

>>> starring: yuuta okkotsu x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: sex pollen theme, pining, jealousy, face-fucking, oral (f!receiving) creampie, swallowing, doggy, headlock! oops!! >>> wc: 4.5k >>> event masterlist

you two make a dynamic duo. this was evident after he joined the school, drawn to you inexplicably. you were bubbly, funny, beautiful, and immensely talented, and you were the first person to smile at him. you became fast friends, and if he wasn’t sent out with toge, he was sent out on missions with you—where he quickly learned that your technique is beautifully complimentary to his own. you confused him though. you were incredibly pretty—non-sorcerers and classmates from jujutsu tech and her sister school approached you all the time, and you always politely turned them down. all sweet smiles and your caring voice humming out, “oh, thank you—i’m flattered, really, just—focused on working!”

you always were so kind, even if you had a good sense of sarcastic wit. yuuta got a taste of your spirited jokes and only grew more enamored with you, silently thanking the gods above for your gentle crushing of other men’s interests in you. but you never seemed too interested in him, hence why he was so confused when you glared at him and stomped away when he agreed to a date with maki zen’in during your third year. he didn’t realize that he was choosing something bigger at the time, deciding that if you weren’t into him he should try to move on—he should just focus on your friendship instead of all the boys throwing themselves at you and all the nights he spent wondering if you would give him a chance.

but things were never the same after that. you asked toge to take any mission you were sent on with yuuta, and you kept to yourself. panda was disappointed. he thought you would have fought for him, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself going after a man who didn’t want you back. you mostly stick to yourself, mingling with toge and some of your underclassmen when necessary. you run solo missions and spend your time in your room or training, all in an effort to avoid him entirely. you hated how weak the whole thing made you feel. you hated being jealous of maki, someone who had done nothing to you and had been a great friend; you hated being away from yuuta, but you knew it would be worse to stick around and pretend that you’re happy for him.

he didn’t know he’d lose you completely. god knows he wouldn’t have tried this if he thought it meant you would stop sitting next to him in class and start sparring with toge during training instead. he missed you. you used to sneak into his dorm a few nights a week to watch movies and lay your head on his shoulder. you used to hint at your favorite boba until he got it for you on missions in the city. you used to use your curse copying technique to boost his own, paired with the increase in cursed energy output powering his; fights don’t feel like they used to, especially without your arrogant smile as you two dismantle yet another assignment in record time. it was awful, and everyone could tell that he was miserable. that’s why yuuta and maki’s relationship didn’t last much longer after the school year ends. he celebrates his birthday wondering if he should call you—and you spend the day typing and deleting a ‘happy birthday i miss you’ text.

your final year of school starts, and you continue to debate with yourself over approaching him. it’s been months since you spoke, and you’re struggling to find the right words to say after all this time and distance. how could you explain yourself? ‘oh hey, sorry for dropping you, it was actually because you dated someone other than me.’ that’s hardly a convincing apology—and you don’t even know if he wants to see you. it had been a lonely several months without him, due to your own irrationality and instability, but still. you couldn’t bring yourself to stick around and yearn for him while he was in a relationship. now that he isn’t…things could be different. you decide to find him after you get settled into your dorm. you’re almost finished up, so you hurry out to grab the rest of your things.

yuuta can’t stop looking for you. it’s your final move in day, and he has to see you. he wants to make sure everything will be okay between the two of you. he knows what room you’ll claim he just has to make the walk from the boys’ building to the girls’. he’s nervous to see you, but he’s excited, too. it all made sense to him now. you did have feelings for him after all, and he stomped all over them whenever he started dating maki. he understands why you distanced yourself even if it hurt him beyond words. but everything could be fixed now, he could admit the truth with the extra boost of confidence that understanding your absence gave him. he could make the first move with the reassurance, he actually cracks a little smile at the thought of your reconnection and acting on the feelings he’s tried to ignore for so long.

then he sees you, and his smile spreads. he almost calls out your name, until he notices choso next to you, carrying what looks to be the remainder of your stuff towards your dorm. you seemed relaxed and cheerful, smiling softly and talking beside him as he nodded and gave the occasional grin to whatever you were saying. so this is what it felt like for you, then, huh? he supposed it was only a matter of time, every man you came across was charmed by you—and rightfully so. you must have finally decided to move on like he did, but it still feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart with a white hot blade. he’s standing on the sidewalk, rooted in place as choso opens the door for you even with the heavy stuff he’s carrying. you duck under his arm adorably, probably giggling out a thank you as you lead him to your bedroom. yuuta might be sick.

but he has no place to. he did this to you, worse—in front of your face. at least you have no idea that he’s watching you. even as his heart crumbles in his chest and he does an about face back towards the boys’ dorms, he tries to make himself smile. he’ll be happy for you. this is all his fault.

the rest of the day passes without you being able to find yuuta. you did run into choso while you were outside of your building. he and yuji were helping nobara out, but the former noticed you struggling to juggle all your things and offered to assist you too. you’ve worked with him before as well, so you didn’t think anything of it as you led him to your room to set everything down. you catch up with him for a bit and thank him for his help before you dismiss yourself in an effort to find your former best friend before curfew. it was a fruitless search. toge hadn’t seen him since he moved in, and panda still hadn’t arrived. he’d leave everything to the last minute. so with sadness settling in your gut, you return to your dorm and prepare for the first real day tomorrow.

it’s no surprise that the first day means missions for the fourth years. yaga gives a whole spiel on how you all are adults now and all grade one or special grade sorcerers at this point in time. so he partnered toge and maki for a mission in nagoya, panda got a solo mission here in tokyo, and then he sent you and yuuta on a mission in osaka.

his heart sank. there was no way he could get anyone to take his spot. he would be forced to walk alongside you and pretend he isn’t horribly depressed. you would mostly likely try to reconcile, and he missed you so horribly he would take you back in any vicinity. he wanted to fix things, to make things how they were supposed to be, and you’re supposed to be his girl. but what could he even do? maybe he would have you under his arm for this mission if he hadn’t been so brain dead. he can only blame himself, so yuuta extends the olive branch first.

he waits for you at the gates. you can see the hilt of his sword as you round the top of the hill, and you swallow hard. you couldn’t help but think he was still avoiding you after looking for him for the better part of a day yesterday, so what would you say to him now? his grayish blue eyes meet yours, and you smile simply from the warmth that builds in your chest at the sight of him. he mirrors your smile easily, and it turns out you two can pick up right where you left off like nothing had ever happened.

it’s relief. you were both so nervous that too much damage had been done. you wondered if the distance had grown so wide you couldn’t bridge the gap, and he could only think the same, but as soon as you joined his side, conversation flowed freely and laughter followed after. and even as the idea of you and choso nagged at his mind, he knew choso would never know you like he does. he would never fight alongside you so expertly, nor have all the history that the two of you have. if that’s all he’s got, then he can make it through this.

the mission itself was a bit more of a struggle, for once. you blamed it on the fact you hadn’t coordinated attacks in months, but this grade one cursed spirit had way too many abilities and tactics to use against the two of you. you have the ability to copy cursed spirits techniques after they touch you, but it seemed as if this spirit had several different styles. they were spreading what appeared to be a fertilizer of some sort over the ground and walls, you couldn’t get close enough to it to touch, and you weren’t sure that copying this technique was going to be very helpful.

“i’ll just boost your energy—we’ll have to fight the normal way.” you determine through a pant. none of your attacks had worked as planned so far. yuuta unsheaths his sword, chewing on the inside of his lip. he nods, seemingly analyzing the spirit and their dust to decide what he would do next. he surveys the abandoned ward of the hospital you were standing in, locating hiding spots.

“i’m going to sneak around, you try to keep it distracted?” he suggested, and you roll your eyes. it’s hardly a glorious plan, but you relent in it, letting him make the first moves would be more effective and decisive for the rest of the fight. he grins at your signature attitude, and jumps high into the sky. you chuckle at his showmanship, then run at the blob-looking cursed spirit with a whistle. you twirl your spear, watching as yuuta drops down in the dust behind it. his sword stabs through it a moment later, and you’re close enough to get your spear into the mix. at the impact, the spirit starts spitting out that powder, and you get a face full of it.

you sputter and wipe at your face, trying to get it out of your eyes as you stumble back. the spirit laughs, while yuuta digs his sword into their flesh and tries to soothe your worries.

“it’s harmless!” he calls out, yanking his sword out of its back and circling to the front to retrieve your spear. “just get it out—you’re okay!”

the spirit laughs again, the glob-like substance melting into a pile as yuuta stabs it again, this time with the intent to exorcize it. “hardly, little woman!” the beast calls out in an automated croak. “cum is the only cure, female—you will die!” it laughs wildly, turning into a liquid under the pressure of yuuta’s energy. his eyes widen as you make a strangled noise of disbelief.

you’re not sure if you’re blinking in shock or still recovering from its dust in your eyes, but you stumble back as it fully disappears. yuuta rushes to your side as soon as it’s over. you’re going to die? unless you…do something extremely lewd? he’s blushing deeply but it’s clearly out of concern for your life, of course. he’s disappointed in himself for letting you get affected. he imagined it had to get in the bloodstream to be effective since he was fine, but he could tell with one look at you that you were not.

your eyes were heavily lidded, lips parted in a perfect pout as you stood on wobbly legs. you were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he could see your hands pulling at your uniform—and your inner battle to get yourself to stop. he walks towards you, concerned beyond belief. you would die if he didn’t help, and you do look so intoxicating like this…

“don’t come any closer—please.” you choke out, feeling around behind you to find a wall to back yourself against. your entire body coursed with uncontrollable heat and need, your pussy throbbing painfully. everything was intensified, your heaving chest, the smell of the man you’ve wanted for years, and the searing lust he looked at you with. you started to shake, and he knew he couldn’t obey your command. “i can’t control myself right now, please, oh my god–” you whine out as his warm and slightly callused hands cup your hot cheeks.

“you heard it…you’ll die..” he says softly, wide and concerned eyes searching yours. he wasn’t under the same pressure, but his heart was racing and his dick was hurting at the prospect of fucking his crush. his tongue darts out to wet his lips. he looks almost as nervous and needy as you do. “i just got you back—and i’m definitely not letting you die.”

you’re insatiable, the touch only made your brain fuzzy and scream out for more, your hands reach up for his forearms, whining weakly as the connection doesn’t satisfy you at all. “oh yuuta–it hurts so bad.” you pout, the look you give him is so pathetic he almost whines with you. “h-help me, please~”

he nods and smashes his lips on yours. you let out an animalistic grunt in relief, throwing your body at him and taking the kiss from heated to dangerous, your teeth gnashing and tongue poking at his bottom lip to get even closer. he can’t help but contemplate the words of the curse, they simply said cum was the cure. does that mean his or yours? and where? he doesn’t mind trying everywhere.

you pull back, but your arms stay around his neck, hands knitted in his soft locks. “my clothes–god it feels like i’m burning.” he gently pushes you off of him so he could help you find relief, popping the buttons on your top and letting out a shaky sigh at the sight of your breasts spilling over your bra. he snakes his hands around your back, slender fingers working quickly to unlatch the clasps. he does let out a little moan this time—your tits sag when your bra drops, and yuuta pushes all the fabric off your upper half and his hands knead at your chest instantly, causing you to wail and moan. he’s trying to be normal, but this is anything but. he’s spent many a night with his fist wrapped around his dick, thinking about the first time he would have you, but it never went like this. he’s hardly complaining though, you’re so sensitive and your noises are so pornographic he’s trying not to bust in his pants.

“i’m gonna start crying–” you sniffle, none of his touches were satisfying you like you needed, it was getting unbearable. you were burning up and your pretty eyes were filling with tears of needy frustration. he whimpers at the sight and hurriedly peels his own clothes off, shaking his head in worry.

“oh, don’t cry! i’m here—i’ll..i’ll make it better!” he nods, hooking his fingers under your skirt, shoving it to the perfect dip of your waist. he looks at your soaked panties, and his heart stops. he’s really going to do this, you aren’t even in your right mind—he can’t help but feel like he’s taking advantage of you.

“yuuta–please, i want you so bad, need you!” you cry out, crumbling to your knees before him. you paw at his pants, untying his belt and yanking at the sides of his pants hungrily. he gasps at your desire. he was perfectly happy to please you only, wanting to save you more than anything—maybe other than this, you looking up at him with your lip between your teeth as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach and making you moan out before you grab him. “fuck my mouth, okay–i need your cum, you heard it.” you sigh, eyes hazy with need as you lean in and kitten lick his pink tip.

his hand flies to your head, and he shudders just from that. you admire the sight of him, long and leaning to one side, cutely trimmed and a leaky slit meant just for you. “hope you didn’t let maki touch you—wanna feel all of it down my throat.” you rub your thighs together, fingers blindly playing with yourself to keep you from going insane.

he blinks a bit at your profession of jealousy—and then he remembers choso. “aren’t you dating yuji’s brother?” he confronts, jutting himself forward a bit to see himself splayed along your perfect tongue. you huff at the accusation, brows furrowing as you shake your head.

“never date anyone but you—” you confess, speech starting to slur. you aren’t able to think as clearly, all you can crave is his dick in your mouth, so you swallow him up. your nose tickles the dark patch of hair above his base, pretty teary eyes batting up at him as you moan around his cock. you want him to be rough? okay. he’ll do that for you–your life is on the line after all. he slides his hands to your cheeks as you work your way along him, up and down at such a sensual pace he’s a moaning mess like he’s affected by the technique. his noises only cause more of your own, his weighty tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag each time. he makes it worse when he decides to apply pressure, holding your head still and moving his hips instead. he fucks your face brutally, you didn’t think he had it in him. tears run down your face and gags and moans are all to be heard. he looks so good, brows set forward in focus and his pink lips parted to let his whimpers free. he tastes even better, and you think you cum when he does, his thick ropes hitting the same spot his dick was, but you swallow it all down anyway and lick your lips—waiting for more. he shudders, this was far too much for him to handle, he didn’t know how he could return to normal after this.

“let me see you now.” he blurts out, sitting on his knees like you. he crawls closer to you, easing you to lay back on the floor. you’re not too good for it, especially not if it meant yuuta was going to make you feel better. you were frantic with need, spreading your legs as soon as you felt his touch to them, he sees your soaked panties again, and his semi perks all the way back up again. “can i take them off?”

“fuck–please, yuuta, can’t take it anymore—put your mouth on me!” you call out his name so desperately he can’t help but wonder if you would be so slutty had someone else gone on this mission with you. the thought quickly disappears when he remembers your declaration, that you’d never wanted anyone but him, and he wants to ask if it’s true. surely he has time, you’re starting to look like pure sex and as bad as he wants to destroy you, he has to do so in good faith.

“did you mean it—that you wouldn’t date anyone but me?” he asks, peeling your sloppy underwear away from your drenched cunt. you nod quickly, the cold air making you shiver with anticipation. you buck your hips toward him a little, still nodding.

“why d’you think i stopped talkin’ to you? you chose her over me.” you pout, and he feels the guilt pang at his heart again as he picks your hips up off the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs.

“it was a mistake–i didn’t know you wanted me–”

“i love you—don’t just want you–need you, pleaseee we’ll talk later!” you squirm in his grip and he snaps into it. your words push him to new heights, you love him. you love him and you need him more than anything, and god he would make sure you never regretted it. his tongue parts your lips and he grows ravenous immediately at the taste of you. he sucks at it, wanting as much of you on his taste buds as he could get. you mewl and pant immediately, bucking into his face and moaning at the way his nose collides with your clit. you can’t reach him with the angle he holds your hips at, helpless and only able to play with your own chest as he devours you. he slides his tongue inside you, groaning at how tight you are. he knows you’re going to squeeze his cock like a vice. you cry out his name in response, and it drives him crazy. white hot need flows through his veins and it's not enough to hear you. he needs to feel you cum in his mouth, feel you buck and writhe in his arms just like this–it makes him feel like the man you need. and the more you call his name, the more he believes he is.

he tongue fucks you for a minute or two, just stroking your walls and tasting your insides. it makes you moan lowly, a purr almost, but when he slides his tongue up to your clit, your sounds turn higher, towards screams. it makes him feral, his teeth scrape against your hood and you lurch forward, whining to touch him. he makes out with your cunt, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“i’m gonna cum for you, oh–yuuta!” you warn in a broken wail, and he moans against you, waiting for you to coat him in your juice. your legs clench around his head, shaking and jerking as your release hits you in waves. he works you through it, licking two fingers in preparation to work you open, but you shake your head. “please, please fuck me, can’t wait anymore–.” you press your legs to his face again, the need almost worse now that you’ve cum once.

“it’s gonna hurt–” he winces, though the brain in his dick agrees with you wholeheartedly.

“it already hurts—please, please, if you care about me at all, just..please!” you sigh out, thrashing in his arms as you plead. how could he deny you when you talk like that, especially if it will make you think he doesn’t care about you.

“i care about you—i love you too, i–i’ll help you, i’m here.” he stammers around, lowering your legs to his hips. he angles his leaky cockhead against your hole, and your head falls back at the feeling and his confession. you nod, reaching for his hands that support your weight.

“good—then fuck me like you love me.” you pant, your body so glorious and splayed wide just for him. he’s in heaven, and he can’t fight off his need any longer—especially if this was what you wanted, what you were begging him for. he fits his tip past your tight hole, sinking his length deeper in fluid strokes. you moan wantonly, and the sounds make his body tingle. you’re walking sex, he’s always thought that, but seeing you underneath him only confirmed your perfection. you nod your encouragement, even thrusting your hips up to meet him, and the pressure makes his eyes roll back.

he fills you up like he was made to, squeezing between your walls and kissing your cervix once he’s in to the hilt. his fingers dig into your meaty hips, slamming your body down on him repeatedly until you’re both a mess of moans and sweat and heavy breathing. you squeeze down on him, mumbles of his name bless his ears and cause his dick to jump.

he turns you over, hoping you can still support yourself on all fours. you shake, but hold yourself up, arching your back for him to slip his cock back in without a struggle. he faces no resistance, your juices dribble down your thighs and all around him, gurgling and squelching once he’s nestled inside. you moan at the new angle, only intensified by him laying over your back and catching your neck in his arm, adding support for your pathetic frame. he’s got you in a headlock, his hips driving into your round ass, the sounds of his gentle grunting sing in your ear. you’re so close, backing into him like you’ll never have the chance to fuck again–which he can assure you would not be the case.

“yuuta–’m gonna cum ‘gain, gonna give yours to me?” you whine out, panting and struggling through your smooshed cheeks. he nods like you can see him, sweat dripping on your back. you massage him so well that he’s surprised he made it this long.

“yes, i have to make sure you’ll be okay.” he sighs, stilling as a loud moan rips from his throat as he floods your insides, noting that he would have to buy a pill to make sure this didn’t turn into a lasting problem at your young adult age. it feels so good though, he doesn’t know how he would ever fuck you differently. you shiver, squeezing all the seed out of his cock as you come down from your own high. you slump forward, his arm was the only thing keeping you from face planting on the ground. he rubs gentle circles into your bruising hips as he catches his breath.

“are you alright, does it feel better?” he quizzes, feeling himself go soft after several minutes of keeping you stuffed. “talk to me, i’m worried–”

“i’m great,” you giggle, feeling cum slide down your legs when he slips out of you, “better than ever. as long as that’s not a one time thing.”

he leans over your back again, turning your head for a sweet kiss to your lips. “no, no. definitely not. sneak into my room tonight and i’ll make sure of it.”

#kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta x you

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samwinchesterism · 3 months

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in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

#sorry i wasnt gonna be able to sleep otherwise my blood pressure got too high #sam winchester meta #sam winchester #anti destiel #sam and dean #whatever else my tags are #haven't done this in a minute #i'm sorry for being a cunty sam stan (tm) in this but have you considered we'd be nicer if you ppl were less dumb #this is not proofread it's not real meta

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

ok so i have acne like not too bad but to the point where i’m like insecure about it but today my sister pointed it out and it made me embarrassed😭 but to the point could you maybe do smth with remus or james and a reader like that? if not that ok 🫶

Thanks for requesting!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 727 words

James tugs at your bottom lip gently with his teeth, and a mortifyingly needy sound tears from the back of your throat. He follows it with a series of soft, sweet kisses. You like knowing that he’s tender with you when he doesn’t need to be, his hands big and capable and impossibly kind as they skate over your curves. You hold nothing back, fingernails biting into his bare shoulders and letting your full weight rest on his hips where you both lie on the bed.

His hand climbs up your back, keeping you close, and migrates upward to cup the back of your neck. You deepen the kiss. Your mouth is harsh and wanting against his, every inch of you buzzing, but when his hand moves to hold the side of your face, you freeze.

James feels the change instantly. He breaks the kiss and lets his head fall to the mattress, putting a couple of inches between you. He’s giving you a concerned, quizzical look.

“Sorry,” you say, laughing at yourself.

“S’alright.” The hand not on your face makes a pass up and down your hip, an attempt to soothe the nervousness he can sense but not place. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You cover his hand with yours and give him a small smile. “Sorry, just, it’s bumpy there.”

James hums. Not in denial, but in confusion. “What about it?”

You recoil a bit at the acknowledgement, your skin heating. “Jamie,” you say, and your voice is soft, almost chiding. “It’s embarrassing.”

His brows bunch. “Is it?”

“Yeah.” A nervous laugh trips off your tongue. You can’t stop yourself from imagining what he’s feeling, the odd, oily bumps beneath his fingertips. “It is.”

He finally takes the hint to move his hand from your face, stroking at the skin just under your ear instead. “Sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he says, eyes warm and earnest. “I hope you know that I don’t care about your acne, though.”

Your acne. It’s stupid, but just the label sends a wave of shame through you. You hate that James has noticed it. That it’s not as imperceptible and unobtrusive as you like to pretend. You feel like such an idiot, thinking that if he didn’t touch it he’d never know.

“You don’t?” Your tone is leaden with disbelief.

“Honey.” James looks almost hurt, though for which one of you you’re not sure. His palm strokes your hip lovingly. “Of course not. It’s just your skin, you know? It’s not a big deal.”

“I mean, I try to get rid of it,” you say, feeling as though you need to make your case. “I use a bunch of skincare products, pimple cream and all that. It just won’t ever all go away, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, that’s fine.” His hand moves to rub your back, and he shakes his head at you. “I mean, you can do whatever you want. You’ll always be beautiful.”

Oh. Okay. Sure. You roll your eyes. “You have to say that.”

He makes a funny face, appearing caught between laughter and bafflement. “No, I don’t.” He takes your face in his hand again, ignoring you when you protest. “The first thing you need to understand is that I’m not a prisoner in this relationship, angel. I am bewitched. You’re bewitching, understand?” You laugh, face growing warm beneath his hand. James smiles with you. “To be clear, I love you for more than your looks, but they do sweeten the deal. Nothing as silly as acne is going to make you less lovely. I signed on for the whole package, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want you any different.”

“James.” You let your forehead rest on his, doing your very best not to think about the pimples you have there, too. You’re burning alive in your skin. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Just telling the truth, m’love.” He holds you steady to kiss the tip of your nose, and when his thumb soothes over the bumps on your cheek, the touch is so adoring your heart very nearly breaks.

You kiss the stubble on his jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you.” James grins as he dips back down to your mouth. When he pulls away, a playful light glints in his eyes. “Now, can I get back to showing you how much, please?”

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daydreams-after-dark · 2 months

Text

Back in Ten, baby

Pairing: CEO dom!leaning Jisung x sub!leaning fem reader // established relationship

Scenario: Han instructs you to wear a strap-on and peg him in the hotel after his important business function.

Word Count: 4K approx

MDNI // SMUT - LOTS OF SMUT Content warnings below the cut

CW: oral sex (both rec), pegging - anal sex with strap on dildo (m rec), collar leash, name calling (slut, cockslut, baby, angel), praise, choking, cum eating, squirting, aftercare, an obsession with Jisung’s ass, feeling up in a semi public place (kind of, but not really), indecency in front of a hotel window

A/N: Just a word of warning. I was unhinged when I wrote this. If you are not into anal play, this isn’t for you because Jisung loves his ass to be played with and y/n is in love with Jisung’s ass. It’s a match made in heaven.

Also... This story was originally posted on my main blog... but because it's a little more flavoursome, I think it belongs over here.

This story was born out of an ongoing discussion with @noellllslut where we both wondered what it might be like if Jisung wanted to be pegged but he wasn’t our subby, needy baby.

This is my version of what it could look like.

Thank you @noellllslut for letting me run some things by you and also getting me worked up and feral thinking about him in this way. I hope I did this story justice.

“You did so good tonight, Jisung. I’m proud of you.” You kissed your CEO boyfriend on the cheek, as the elevator doors closed once again after letting the last person out of the lift, leaving the two of you alone. Finally.

You’d spent the last four hours at his side while he worked the room and mingled with the investors. Now he was wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Only five more floors to go until you reached the top floor of your shared suite.

“Mister Han!” You exclaimed. “What is that pressing against me? Don’t tell me you’re going to ruin me in a hotel lift?” You leaned into his ear “They have cameras you know?” You whispered.

Jisung grinned against your neck. “I know.” He answered and slid his hand under your dress and tugged your panties aside.

“Baby!” You protested and pretended you wanted him to stop.

“That’s Sir to you.” He growled as removed his fingers as the elevator bell dinged indicating you had reached your floor.

“Shit, baby. I just remembered. I need to go back downstairs, I forgot something. You go ahead babe. I’ll only be ten minutes.”

He smacked you affectionately on the ass as you stepped out of the elevator.

“Yes Sir.” You replied suspiciously and smiled to yourself as you made your way to your shared room.

The hotel suite wasn’t the biggest, but it was luxurious with a large, plush bed, couch, widescreen television and a generous bathroom off to the right. A large mahogany desk stood at the far end of the room with a backdrop of floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the city. The view was breathtaking, but your eyes were drawn to something else.

A red box in the middle of the bed. A gift? You sat on the mattress and lifted the lid. Inside was a pile of red tissue paper with a note on top.

They were instructions.

“Be a good girl and wear these for me. Be ready in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. The exact number of minutes Jisung said he’d be before returning to the room.

Cheeky shit.

You peeled open the tissue paper to reveal what exactly it was you were meant to wear and your eyes widened: a strap-on dildo, red collar, and chain leash.

Lifting the strap-on out of the box and inspecting it, you realised it was massive. Much, much bigger than any of the plugs and dildos he’d gotten you to use on him previously. You’d certainly never used one this big on him, and you’d never used a strap-on before.

You reached back into the box agan and retrieved the thick red leather collar and accompanying leash.

You only had ten minutes to be ready. You took a deep breath, and prepared yourself mentally for how your night was going to unfold, and took your supplies to the bathroom where the lighting was better and you could see what you were doing.

Most of your ten minutes was spent trying to get the strap-on to fit just right. The dildo looked even more alarming in size than you first thought. At a guess it was 8 inches long, but the girth? How he was going to take that up his ass you weren’t entirely sure. But he chose it so he must be confident. Right?

Next, you fastened the collar around your neck and attached the chain, and finally studied yourself in the full length mirror in the corner of the bathroom.

It felt like such a juxtaposition really. The idea of wearing a strap-on conjured up the idea of the wearer being in charge, dominating a submissive lover, making a needy man or woman desperately beg for his or her hole to be fucked. But the collar and leash around your neck was a stark reminder that you weren’t in control tonight. Your role was to please Jisung, Sir Han, and tonight it seemed Sir Han wanted you to do all the hard work, while he sat back and relaxed.

You considered whether or not to put on a sexy bra and sheer stay ups, but it wasn’t on your instructions, so you decided to simply fix your hair and make up.

Looking down at your fake cock, you wrapped your fingers around the girth, you couldn’t even get your fingers around it, and pumped it a few times like you always saw Jisung do before he’d push it into your cunt. You imagined pushing it into his tight hole. The way it was going to stretch him open and disappear inside of him. The thought alone had you wet. You were ready.

“Alright,” you said to yourself. “Let’s go fuck your man.”

“So fucking slutty.” a deep voice resonated through the hotel suite when you stepped back into the dimly lit space. You were momentarily startled to find Jisung had already come back into the room and was sat behind his desk. Behind him the full length windows overlooking the city magnified the power he radiated as a CEO.

“Come.” He gestured for you to come around to his side of the desk, turning his chair towards you and reaching out for your hands as you came to stand in front of him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked drinking you in.

“Nervous.” You whispered. Jisung smiled at your admission.

“That’s okay, my sweet angel.” He squeezed your hands. “All you have to do is follow what I say.” He reached up to play with the chain of the leash. You felt a heat rise through you at the possibilities of what he could ask of you.

He let go of your leash letting it drop against your bare skin and slid a hand under his desk to retrieve a round footstool.

“Sit.” He patted the cushioned top. You did as he asked and sat yourself down on the low seat between his spread legs.

He leaned back in his chair and you blinked up at him with expectant eyes. The corners of his mouth curled upwards into a smirk and he dropped his gaze to your strap-on, and bit his lip hungrily. Maybe he was needy after all?

“Undress me.” He said low, his voice laced with desire.

You moved slowly, placing a hand on each of his knees and running them up his thighs, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath his trousers. You ghosted your hands over his crotch, you could see he was hard under there, before sliding them up his stomach and chest, all the way to rest on the top button of his shirt. He’d already lost his jacket and tie somewhere along the way, so you didn’t have too much to take off.

You took your time undoing one button at a time and slowly exposing his chest. Your eyes flickered up to meet his. The way he was looking at you made you flustered and your fingers faltered for a moment.

“You really are nervous, aren’t you baby?” He whispered, while you persevered with his shirt.

Next, your fingers found his belt buckle and you undid his trousers, allowing you to untuck his shirt and push it off his shoulders and removing it entirely from his body. He didn’t take his hazy eyes off you as he watched you explore his toned chest with your fingertips, eventually trailing them down past his belly button and into the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t need to be asked to lift up while you pulled his pants and underwear from him.

He was truly a marvel to look at. Fully naked in all his glory, the city night lights and moonlight illuminating his skin in the prettiest way. And his cock. So hard. So thick. So irresistible. Sitting there untouched against his hard abdomen.

You could barely wait for your next instruction, and If you actually had a real cock yourself, it’d be throbbing for him and leaking at the tip, just like your cunt ached and was moistening by the second.

Jisung reached out to lazily squeeze one of your breasts making your skin tingle. Your nipple hardened when he rubbed circles over it with the pad of his thumb, and then he grasped onto the leash dangling from your neck. Wordlessly, he tugged on the chain, gently forcing your head down near his cock. Gripping his length with his other hand he rubbed the tip along your bottom lip.

“Open up baby. Suck on it for me.” he wound the leash around his hand and reached up to hold onto the back of your head and pushed you down over his length. It was absolutely fucking delicious and you couldn’t hide how much it pleased you to have him in your mouth.

“That’s it baby. I know you love it, don’t you? My little cockslut. So precious.” he praised as you purred around his dick.

“Let’s see if we can get it all the wa-” his words were cut short as you sunk down entirely onto him until your nose was nestled against his wispy pubic hair. “Oh yes… just like that. Taking me so well.”

He held you in place so you couldn’t move then pinched your nose closed. “That’s it. Let’s get those eyes watering.” He let go just long enough to let you catch your breath and then pushed you back down and held your nose closed. You felt the head of his cock lodged in the back of your throat while he held you down, cutting off your air supply until your head felt light and fuzzy. Again, he released you and let the air fill your lungs before repeating the same thing two more times.

Jisung knew you loved it when he did this. He knew how wet you got from it. You had practiced and experimented plenty enough that he knew exactly the number of seconds he could choke you with his cock before it was too much for you. Plus you had your “two taps on the thigh” signal if needed.

Jisung released you, and while you bobbed up and down his cock, reached over the side of his chair to pull a lever that allowed the backrest to recline 45 degrees. “Baby. You know what you need to do now.” he tapped you on the head with a bottle of lube.

Drunk with lust, you growled in protest as he pulled your mouth off his cock entirely so he could hook a hand underneath his thighs to pull his legs up so he was almost folded in half. His cock, balls and tight little asshole were on display for you, perfect for your next task.

But before you even opened the lube, you couldn’t resist holding onto the base of his cock and leaning down to take his balls in your mouth. He groaned in pleasure as you sucked them in and rolled them around in your warm wet mouth and then hummed around them for good measure.

You released them with a pop, and moved your attention lower. Pressing a palm on each of his cheeks to get him as wide as possible and spat directly onto his hole.

“Fuck!” Jisung hissed when the saliva made contact. You dove in and pressed your tongue against his asshole. Again, Jisung cursed trying to remain calm. You licked around the tight ring of muscle several times, then took your attention back up to his balls, taking them into your mouth again, before coming back down to his hole. You pressed against it with the tip of your tongue until it breached the muscle, making Jisung keen, and then withdrew it. You took your time, giving your attention to all his sensitive parts, including taking his cock back into your mouth every now and then.

You made everything so wet and slippery with your saliva that you hadn’t even opened the bottle of lube when you slipped your middle finger inside him. Jisung groaned in approval at the intrusion.

“Does that feel good, Sir?” you looked up to see his expression dark and aroused.

“Fuck yes… another finger. Stretch me out baby…Quickly. Fuck, baby. You’re so dirty with your fingers up my ass?”

You smirked, and took his balls into your mouth while at the same inserted another finger. “Ahhh…yes… fuck me with your fingers. Such a good fucking girl.”

You continued to loosen him up, building up to three fingers, and fucking him with your digits until you felt yourself being jerked up by the leash. Jisung pulled over him so he could kiss you. Your fingers were still lodged inside of him while he invaded your mouth with his tongue and moaned against your teeth.

”Okay, baby.” He peeled his mouth away and looked up at you. “It’s time for you to show me what you can do with that cock of yours.” He reached down and tugged on it like it was an actual dick. “Okay, up.” He tapped you on the ass.

You felt your cheeks redden when you removed your fingers with a loud squelch and placed them inside your mouth sucking them clean. Jisung hummed in approval and stood from his chair pulling up with him. He was all over you in an instant. He held your body against his and you could feel the heat radiating from his dick as it pressed against your stomach beside your fake one. He kissed you long and deep, and it made your knees go weak. How after all this time with him you still swooned you didn’t know. But you loved the giddy feeling.

Your core ached for him, and all you wanted was for him to bend you over the desk and fuck you brutally. But instead it was Jisung who bent over the desk, exposing the two perfect orbs that were his ass, to the world outside the window. He rested himself on his elbows, curving his back and creating an alluring silhouette with his ass poking off the edge just enough to let his cock hang down between his legs and the edge of the desk.

“Get behind me. Baby, listen carefully. I need you to fuck me properly, do you understand?”

You took your place behind him, letting your hands roam over his ass cheeks. So tantalising. “Fuck, Sir. Your’e so perfect.” You adored Jisung with all your being. You stroked his back tenderly and then squeezed his ass cheek, even bending down and taking a gentle bite of the flesh.

“Fuck, I didn’t say you could tease me.” hissed Jisung. You stood back up and slapped him on the ass. “Sorry Sir, you’re just too delectable” was your reply, and you took the dildo, your “cock”, at the base with one hand and with your other you poured a generous amount of lube onto the tip and smeared it all over the shaft.

“Is this okay, Sir?” You inquired as you ran the tip between his cheeks back and forth over his quivering hole.

“Fuck, yes.” He hissed and pushed back onto the dildo. You watched as the ring of muscle expanded and sucked the thick tip inside. You stayed completely still as Jisung let out a relieving groan. “More, baby. Give it all to me.”

You pushed this time, watching more of the toy slip inside. When he’d adjusted you pushed again with your eyes glued to where the massive dildo was lodged halfway in his ass. Yes, you’d fucked him with dildos before, and yes you’d fingered him too, but this simulation of you actually penetrating him as though this dildo was an actual appendage of yours, took this experience to a whole new level.

It looked obscene watching your hips push more and more of the dildo into your boyfriend’s ass, splitting him in two. You used your hands to knead the flesh of his cheeks, helping him relax and stretch, until you had bottomed out and his ass cheeks were flush against your pelvis. This position felt so intimate and you wondered if this was how it felt for Jisung when he fucked you from behind?

Jisung dropped his forehead to the desk between where his forearms rested and began to grind back on you, moaning low. It was mesmerising.

”Baby,” he puffed “It seems im doing all the work here. I thought I told you to fuck me?” he growled.

You snapped out of your trance and went to work. You grasped onto both his ass cheeks, spreading them wide to give you ultimate access, and pulled the dildo halfway out and then slowly pushed it back in to the hilt. You immediately withdrew again and pushed back deep inside. Jisung cried out on the impact. Your hands moved to hold onto his hips so that on the next thrust you could guide him back to meet your pelvis in a powerful smack.

You knew what it felt like to get your holes fucked and you allowed yourself to imagine what this was feeling like for Jisung. It felt incredible having a cock stretch your holes open and drag against your inner walls. You knew how incredible it felt when your Jisung reached the deepest parts of your soul, or the way it felt when you were being used as nothing but a cock sleeve.

All these thoughts had your cunt gushing and you picked up the pace, slamming yourself into Jisung over and over. The sound of his ass and balls slapping against you on each snap of your hips resonated throughout the room. His leaking cock repeatedly swang back and hit your thigh, leaving cum stuck to your skin.

Jisung propped a leg up on the desk. “Fuck me harder, deeper. Show me how bad you want it. Show me how bad you wish you had a real cock.” He demanded.

This new position meant you could thrust even deeper and at an angle that was becoming impossibly too much for Jisung. He was starting to lose composure and his noises were becoming more like whimpers. He was losing the upper hand. He was losing control. You could tell he was so very close to cumming.

”Pull out. Baby. Stop for me.” He panted and started to stand up and push you off him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and push him back down flush against the table and pound into him until he exploded all over the floor, But you listened to your lover regardless. What if he was sore?

Jisung turned around and cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lip. He looked at you with fucked out eyes and an expression that could kill. He must’ve been close and didn’t want it to be finished, you concluded.

“Now my sweet angel.” He tugged at your lip forcing it open and shoving his thumb inside. It took all your self control not to let your eyes roll back into your head.

”On your hands and knees.” You immediately dropped to the floor and Jisung held onto your leash. “Now follow me.” He instructed, leading you away from the desk towards the bed with you crawling behind him like an obedient dog. He picked you up and threw you on the bed, climbing on top of you immediately.

“So fucking beautiful.” He said kissing your neck and fondling your tits. “Beautiful. So perfect.” He praised you as he made his way down to where the dildo was strapped to you. You thought maybe he was going to take it off. Maybe he was ready to fill you with his cock and come deep inside your pussy. Or maybe your ass? Maybe it was his turn to fuck your ass? Oh your body ached to be touched. Your cunt needed to be filled. You knew you’d be so fucking wet that he’d slide right on in with no resistance.

But Jisung didn’t remove the strap-on. He sunk his mouth over it instead. “Now who’s a cockslut.” You said. Jisung’s eyes sprang open and you knew you’d pushed his buttons. But you didn’t care. Sometimes this is how you two played.

He was on top of you again in a heartbeat, caging you in, staring into your eyes. “Takes one to know one.’ He replied and raised an eyebrow. Then a hand came to rest at your collar. Please choke me. You thought to yourself.

“Cocksluts shouldn’t be bratty otherwise they might miss out on the thing they love most.” He teased. “I think the best thing I can do is demonstrate what’s expected of a good little cockslut.”

He carefully removed your collar and to your surprise secured it around his own neck. Then he hovered over your dildo, grabbing it with one hand as he lowered himself down over the entire length, impaling himself on your fake cock. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body adjusted. It was the most exquisite thing you’d ever seen Jisung do. He leaned back and rested his hands behind him next to your legs and began to lift up and sink back down over the dildo. He built up the pace and intensity of the thrusts, eventually planting his feet down beside you and using his legs as leverage to really slide up and down and fuck himself incredibly hard.

You could see absolutely everything from this angle. His thigh muscles working hard. The thick dildo appearing and disappearing into his ass. Heavy cum-filled balls bouncing up and down. His painfully engorged erection hitting his taut abs on every thrust. The way his stomach muscles contracted. His hardened nipples. The veins in his neck straining from under the collar. His tongue hanging from his mouth. His eyes squeezing tight in pleasure-pain. The beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. You could see all of this from your position on the bed underneath him.

“I love you Jisung.” You couldn’t keep it contained. He just looked too beautiful.

He opened his eyes and smiled at you. “I love you too. Look what you’ve done to me, I’m so fucking close, baby.” He choked.

You took that as your cue to grasp your fingers around his cock and start pumping it.

“I’m gonna cum. Be a good girl and catch as much as you can, okay.”

You aimed his cock towards you as he came, spurting ropes of come towards your open mouth. You tried to catch as much as you possibly could on your tongue, the rest landing across your face, chin and tits.

Jisung lifted off the dildo and flopped on the bed to catch his breath, then he removed the collar and the strap-on and used the tip of the dildo to scoop us as much cum as he could from your chest and face. “Open up baby.” He whispered and pushed the dildo into your mouth. “Good baby. Good girl. Lick that clean now.” He encouraged. “That’s it.” He removed it from your mouth and tossed it to the side along with the collar and leash.

“Now let’s see how wet you are after this” he shuffled down between your legs and pried them open as far as they would go. “Dripping wet.” He observed. You barely had a moment to prepare when his face was buried between your legs, his tongue eagerly lapping at your neglected holes. You arched your back off the bed and cried out your Jisung’s name when he easily slipped three fingers into your cunt in one go. It only took half a dozen thrusts of his digits against your sweet spot, and a couple of suckles of your clit and you were exploding all over him. Everything had tensed up so tight, that when your release hit you you squirted all over his face.

“Yes… yes baby make a fucking mess for me. That’s my girl.” He praised and proceeded to lick up as much of your juices as possible.

You were both such a sticky, sweaty, fluid-covered mess, yet you both couldn’t stop kissing each other. Tongues were deep in each other’s mouths. Your bodies were still grinding together until Jisung found himself hard again.

He fucked you slow and deep, professing his love to you and coaxing another orgasm for your body while he came deep inside you.

Eventually he ran a bath and carried you in where you both cleaned each other up, before playfully bickering about who was going to call room service to change the sheets.

If you enjoyed this story and want to read my short scenario where reader comes home to find Ji pleasuring himself with her dildo, you can find that here.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @newhope8 @minnieprincess77 @itshannjisung you have all been tagged in the original but would super appreciate if you like and share this one too.

#han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #skz smut #sorshas fic

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