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#OH MY GOD MAKE SURE I NEVER DRAW SOMETHING THIS BIG ON PHONE EVER AGAIN
ankapistan · 1 year
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The guys ever
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harley-sunday · 1 year
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(Don’t You) Forget About Me
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Summary: Charles promised her he would call her. Problem is, he doesn’t. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader [f] Warnings: None Word count: 2.6k AN: As soon as I published Champagne Supernova I was unhappy with how I ended things because I’m nothing if not a sucker for a happy ending and so here we are. I hope you enjoy :) As always, comments are very much appreciated. As are reblogs! And no, eL, we’re not turning this into a multi-chapter even though that is in fact the problem here and I seem to be only capable of writing two-part stories for Charles...
Champagne Supernova (aka part 1)
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Charles watches as her fingers fly over his screen before she locks his phone and hands it back with a wicked smile, “Let’s see if you remember my name- Later.”
“Oh, I will,” he assures her, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget it. He’s known her for not even an hour but already it feels like they’ve already spent a lifetime together, like she’s always been right there next to him, if only slightly out of reach. 
“Good,” she says, interrupting his thoughts, and leans over the centre console, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek that he can feel burn into his skin nonetheless. “I’ll be seeing you then.” 
“You will,” he replies with a wink that he hopes makes him seem more confident than he is. 
“Thank you for driving me home,” she tells him as she steps out of the car. “Drive safe.”
He’s not sure if she means now or when he’s back on track again next week but still he tells her, “Always.” 
He doesn’t want to go, not really, but there are people waiting for him, people to take pictures with, and hands to shake, his only appeal that those people can then boast they know a Formula One driver. He hates it. Hates this part of his job. Hates that he has to leave her and this promise of something more behind but he knows he has to, and so he waves and tries not to look back because he thinks he’ll never be able to leave if he does.
***
“Where were you?”
He could have given a vague answer, could have told his older brother that he simply went outside for some fresh air, but instead he tells the truth because he doesn’t want to lie about her, “A girl bumped into me and I spilled my drink on her so I-”
Lorenzo gestures at his chest “So where’s your jacket.” 
He shrugs, because isn’t it obvious? “I gave it to her.” Then, as if that’s what Lorenzo will be worried about, “I’ll get it back. Later.” 
His brother eyes him suspiciously but doesn’t say anything and instead starts taking off his own jacket and hands it to Charles with a nod towards the dining room, “Here, you’ll need this for the pictures. They’re waiting for you.” 
Charles figures they can wait a little longer and takes his time putting the slightly too big jacket on, still thinking about her. The way her dressed hugged her curves, even more there where his drink soaked the fabric and-
“Charlie,” Lorenzo flicks the side of his head with an exaggerated sigh, “where’s your head at?” He gives him a gentle shove towards the door and repeats his earlier words, “They are waiting for you.” And because Lorenzo is his older brother and always seems to know exactly what is going on in Charles’ mind he winks and adds, “You can tell me about her later.” 
***
“So I drove her home,” Charles says, coming to the end of his story, “and told her I would be back for my jacket.”
Next to him Lorenzo keeps his eyes on the road and nods but from the backseat Arthur lets out a low whistle before he leans forward and rests his elbows on the seats on either side of him, “So you’re just going to show up at her house or-?”
Charles smiles and shakes his head, “I asked for her number and-”
“Oooh,” Arthur draws out and ruffles Charles’ hair. “Very smooth, frérot.” 
Charles ignores him, “-I’ll call her later this week.” 
***
He doesn’t. 
He doesn’t call and he doesn’t pick up the jacket. He wants to. God, does he want to but he gets home late and the next morning, before he’s even had the chance to replay last night’s events in his mind, he gets a call from Mattia who asks- Makes him fly out to Maranello that same day. Something about more testing, more meetings with the team, more efforts to turn the season around to try and clench the championship. He goes, of course he does. 
He still has a chance to become world champion and it’s everything he’s ever worked for in his life and so he goes and he doesn’t call.
***
After a week in Maranello the triple header starts. Spa first, Zandvoort next, and then Monza. Two podiums in three races isn’t bad, but he doesn’t win and so it doesn’t really count. Max is more than a hundred points ahead of him in the standings but Charles still thinks he has a chance and so he stays in Italy after Monza for more time at the factory, more adjustments, and more time on the sim. 
It’s not that he’s forgotten about her, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to, it’s just- It’s been too long for a casual text or call and so he’s starting to make a bigger deal out of it than it probably is and still doesn’t call. 
***
The championship is decided in Japan, with a penalty that drops him from second to third place after the race. Somehow it doesn’t surprise him that this is how he finds out he’s not going to be world champion this year. It seems- Fitting. 
That night, when he’s alone in his hotel room somewhere in Suzuka, is the first time he actually pulls up her contact and lets his thumb hover over the call button. It’s been eight weeks since the fundraiser - he knows because of course he’s kept track - and he doubts she even remembers him. Doubts she even still has the jacket. And so he locks his phone and once again doesn’t call.
***
He fights for second place the remaining five races of the season, a heated battle with Checo that gets decided in Abu Dhabi during the final race. In his favour this time. And while he much rather would have been crowned world champion, coming second to a superior Max Verstappen and a superior Red Bull is the best he and the team could do this year. Next year. Next year it will be him, he decides.
After Abu Dhabi, after post-season testing, he goes back to Maranello for the team’s detailed debrief of the 2022 season, a week-long affair that has him cooped up in meeting rooms for most of the day. He stays in Italy because a week later he has to be there for the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony in Bologna anyway. 
He still doesn’t call.
***
It’s when he’s getting ready for the FIA event, putting on his Ferrari-issued suit, that Lorenzo asks, “Did you ever get your jacket back? The one you lent to that girl?”
Charles shakes his head, “No, I-”
Lorenzo lets out a frustrated sigh in a way only a brother can, “You didn’t call her?”
“No,” Charles says as he buttons up his shirt. “I did not.”
Lorenzo mutters something under his breath that Charles just knows in an insult and so he doesn’t bother with a reply. His older brother doesn’t relent that easily though, “You are an idiot, you know that? I thought you really liked her?”
“I did,” Charles agrees easily enough. Corrects himself then, “I do. I think. But-” he shrugs, “-it’s almost been four months, I doubt-” He ducks just in time to not get hit in the head by his phone that Lorenzo hurls at him from across the room, sending up a silent thank you to Andrea for all those reflex exercises he always insists on doing, even during off-season. He throws his brother a look, “What did you do that for? You could have-”
“Call her,” Lorenzo says, pointing at the phone that bounced off the wall and landed on the floor with a miraculously intact screen. “I don’t need you moping around, thinking about what could have been, over the winter break, Charlie. Just call her, take her on a date, and hey-” he shrugs with a sly smile, “-if you do get your jacket back well then that’s a win-win, non?”
He doesn’t call right away but promises himself he will. Later.
***
“The jacket you are trying to reach is no longer available. Please try again later.” 
He can’t help but laugh and looks up at the house he’s standing in front of as he runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the base of his neck because all of a sudden he’s nervous. He tries to hide it with a confident, “Salut ma chérie, I’m sorry for not calling any sooner but-”
“Don’t try to sweet talk your way back into our lives, Leclerc-”
“Our?” Shit. The possibility that she might have a boyfriend never even crossed his mind. He quietly curses himself, it’s been four months, of course she didn’t sit around and wait for him to maybe call her. Stupid. Stupid, stupid-
“The jacket’s and mine,” her voice interrupts his thoughts. “We are doing quite well for ourselves.”
“Hmm,” he hums, his smile returning. He takes a step closer to the front door, “Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d like to come see that for myself,” he says, his finger already hovering over the doorbell.
“Hmmm,” she draws out. “We might be able to arrange a supervised visit. When would you-”
He pushes down on the button and chuckles, “Now?”
“Now,” she echoes, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Yeah- Ok. Sure. Let me just-”
The light inside the hall comes on not much later and he sees a silhouette walking towards the door. Charles takes a step back and hides the flowers he’s got her behind his back. When the door opens, the light from inside framing her face like a halo, he knows he’s done for and vows right then and there to call her every day if she’ll let him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she says, a little uncertain, and gestures at her jeans and hoodie, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone-” 
“You look beautiful,” he assures her and means it. She could be wearing a garbage bag and he’d still think she’d be able to take his breath away. He holds the flowers out to her, “For not calling sooner.”
She smiles as she takes the flowers from him, “That’s very kind, thank you.” 
He doesn’t really know where to go from here, doesn’t really know how to explain why he didn’t call, and he almost feels as helpless as he felt when he accidentally spilled his drink on her.
Just like that night, she takes charges and steps aside, “Come on. I’m sure your jacket will be delighted to see you.” 
***
She’s offered him a drink and this time he accepts and so he finds himself sitting at her kitchen table not much later, his jacket hanging from her chair and if a garment could, he’s sure it would mock him. There’s a cup of coffee in front of him and he watches her as she makes one for herself too. When she sits down across from him he makes himself look at her when he says, “I really am sorry for not calling sooner. I didn’t mean to- What is it? Ghost you?” 
“Well, you did, Charles. Disappeared like a ship in the night,” she mimics the movement with her hand but there’s a smile on her lips that he hopes means he still has a chance. 
He hangs his head, guilt washing over him, “I know. The second half of the season was so crazy and I know that’s no excuse-”
“Just don’t do it again.” 
It takes him a second to register her words and so he sits there with his mouth open, gaping like a fish, until he can feel himself start to smile, his hope renewed when he sees the way she’s looking at him, like she’s challenging him to not recognize this second chance that for some reason, only known to her, she has granted him. He shakes his head, “Never.” 
***
At some point they move from the kitchen to the living room, her with her knees folded up under her in one corner of the couch and him angled towards her in the other. He’s told her about the last few months, the pressure he felt, not only from the team and the fans but also from himself. How it was a fight until the very end, not just on track but off track as well, with endless hours spent in the factory and on the sim. 
Some of the questions she asks in between his stories tell him that she’s actually watched the races and it makes him feel both incredibly happy that she cared enough to do so and even more like an idiot for not calling her sooner. 
When he tells her so she agrees with a kindhearted smile. 
***
It’s only after she’s stifled a yawn during a lull in their conversation that he risks a glance at his watch and sees that it’s already past midnight. He smiles at her, “It’s late, I should probably let you get some sleep, no?”
She shrugs apologetically, “It’s been a long day-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he tells her as he pushes himself up from the couch and waits for her to do the same before he walks to the front door where he turns around and finds her standing there with a hesitant smile that makes him want to kiss her. 
And so he does.
Taking a step closer, he licks his lips and lets his eyes fall from to her mouth in a silent question. When she tilts her head back and looks up at him he leans in and lets his lips brush against hers before he captures her mouth with his and deepens the kiss. 
She puts one hand against his chest and pulls him closer with the other, which has found its way to the back of his neck. 
His hands are on her hips, gently pushing her up against the wall as he lets his tongue run over her lower lip. When she opens her mouth he sighs against it, enjoying the way she tastes- Something sweet, like an apple maybe, and then he slips his tongue inside and she moans and he knows that if he doesn’t stop now he’ll regret it forever. He pulls back and lets his forehead rest against hers, breathing heavily. 
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, hands gripping the fabric of his sweater in an attempt to bring him back.
He shakes his head, “I want to do this right, ma belle.”
“It’s not actually like you’re doing it wrong now,” she counters, sounding as out of breath as he feels. 
He chuckles and pulls back a little further so he can look at her, “Go on a date with me.”
Her eyes widen before she narrows then, a mischievous smile on her lips, “Why don’t you call me first and we’ll take it from there.” 
He can’t help the laugh that escapes him because that seems entirely fair, “I will.”
“Good-”
“Good,” he echoes before he presses a more chaste kiss to her lips. “And I won’t wait four months this time.”
“Don’t you dare,” she says and pushes him back and towards the door. A little quieter then, “Don’t you dare.” 
He gives her another quick kiss once he’s opened the door, “I’ll see you soon.” When she nods he steps outside, the feeling of hope renewed blooming in his chest. He’s almost at his car when he looks back, a little surprised then because while the front door is still open she’s gone and so he turns around, ready to head back inside to see what’s going on.
“Hey, Leclerc,” she says then as she steps into the hall again, walking towards him with his jacket dangling on one of her fingers. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 
He shakes his head and smiles widely at her, “Keep it. I can come pick it up later.” 
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eitaababe · 1 year
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EVEN IF IT'S A LIE !
chapter two. good luck.
a/n — the amount of photos i had to cram into this chapter
series masterlist. | previous / next
INTRODUCING —
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written portion below. —
you and tsireya laughed, trying to keep it quiet in the calm atmosphere of the cafe.
"wait, so how do you know lo'ak?"
"we were childhood friends before i moved back in grade school. i just recently graduated and they have a good sports med program at pandora, i figured i'd come back and surprise them."
"ohhh," tsireya nodded, smiling as bright as ever. "that's so sweet! i, for one, am glad you decided to move back, i hope you make the dance team."
you smiled graciously, about to respond when a shout from the cafe grabs both your attention.
"tsireya!"
you turn at the bubbly voice, greeted by a soft smile and what looked like a brooding boy right next to him. "who's your friend?"
"this is y/n, she's the new transfer student."
"i'm rotxo!" he introduced himself, reaching out to shake your hand. "you going out for the dance team?"
"i'm trying out today, actually," you smiled, shaking his hand. your eyes suddenly shift to the boy next to him, and immediately you lose your train of thought. you meet his ocean blue eyes, and the room suddenly felt just a tad warmer. you quickly snap out of it, looking back at rotxo. "it's nice to meet you."
rotxo nudges the boy next to him, mumbling something harshly under his breath.
he rolls his eyes, nudging his friend back and looking to you, "ao'nung."
a man of very few words, you noted.
"nice to meet you," you're unable to say more, trying not to make the conversation anymore awkward, and look at the time, sighing in relief. "we've actually gotta get going— don't wanna be late for my own audition."
tsireya, checking her own phone, confirms your words and grabs her drink. "i'll talk to you later, big bro."
"good luck!" rotxo smiles at you. "i'm sure you'll do great."
"thank you." you smile at him bashfully, grabbing your bag and your drink as you start to follow tsireya out, when a call of your name stops you.
"hey y/n," ao'nung grabs your attention, and you're suddenly shy again under his intense gaze. "good luck."
you're positive he doesn't miss the way your whole face goes pink, and you smile, turning away as fast as you can to hide your embarrassment. "thanks."
─── outside !
"oh my god," tsireya starts only once you're both out of the earshot of the two boys, ignoring your questioning looks. "you have the hots for my brother!"
"i do not!"
"don't deny it! he said like two words and you were so red." tsireya giggled, knowing she was right.
"wait - which one's your brother?"
"ao'nung. rotxo's around our family enough he might as well be my brother too, though."
"oh," you say, and you recognize the resemblance between the two, with their soft eyes and curly hair, but you never would've guessed from how they both act.
"okay, maybe a bit."
"i knew it!" she exclaimed happily, drawing the attention of a couple passerby's as you walked to the dance building. "you should go for it, honestly. he hasn't talked to a girl in months, so he's definitely available."
"i don't know." you admit, hesitant to agree. "i barely know him. and he's your brother, that might get awkward."
"just think about it, alright?" she smiles sweetly, opening the doors. "for now, let's focus on you making the team."
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FUN FACTS !
— rotxo is the only friend ao'nungs really talked to about ivy
— tsireya is taking ao'nungs word and thinks he's over ivy
— lo'ak is genuinely the happiest man on the earth knowing his girlfriend and friend are getting along
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[🏷️ ; taglist. / open ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @netemoon @halibanana @aonungmyaddiction @teyums @lightskinloak
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yayforocs · 26 days
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Ohhhhhhhhhh My God okokok i'm going to be unpacking a lot here and i'm. oh my goodness i'm so excited there's stuff here i FORGOT about!!!!!! never posted anywhere would have been lost forever if i hadn't saved it on this flash drive!!!!!
OLD UNPOSTED ART LET'S GO (pt 1) (yes i'm doing multiple parts bc u can only post 30 images per post)
ohhhhhh man oh man ok i'm looking through and checking on like Each And Every One Of These to make sure they're not actually posted anywhere and m a n
ALRIGHT, cranking the clock alllll the way back to the start of my main blog, july 2012!!!
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God ok this is fanart for a slamacow video, it's the like one music video he made :VVV good ol Cube Land!!
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shadow of israphel!!!!!! what a series, my brother and i still quote a few lines from it. i actually did draw quite a lot more SoI fanart that never got posted, i'll have to go digging around and see if i can find it.... BUT atl now i know like!! timestamp for when i drew all that!!!
moving on to august 2012!
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herobrine in a cloak ig
dklsfjsd did i not feel like drawing regular clothes or.
september 2012!!
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genuinely i don't remember if i traced this over my laptop screen or if i just copied it down bc i was pretty good at just like lookin at stuff and replicating it, but it's erza from fairy tail!
october 2012 :V
i opened up a requests thread on the craftedmovie forums, and lookin back it looks like i only ever posted one of them, wack
so here's the rest!
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we've got a gamzee makara! we've got 'a brown haired girl (brown eyes may have also been specified? i don't quite remember but i'm p sure brown haired girl was) standing next to fluttershy'! who i actually, since no other specifics on the girl were given, drew to be the protag from the animation Crayon Dragon! and then the third one is the requester, trixomaniac, sitting on a rainbow :VV
november 2012!
we've got more requests!
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first one was i don't remember if it was just 'chicken man' or actually the requester's (gafloff was the name) skin but the request was for the person to be holding a butter sword standing over a zombie piglin or something along those lines :V i had no context of skydoesminecraft so i remember being very confused like. why a sword made out of butter XD
and then the second is shadowflare86, holding a gun pointing at the viewer :V whiCH! i had no idea how to draw so i did my best to imitate a pose from this wonderful animation called Serenade to Miette
...looking at this now tho i think it just looks like it could be a fantastic reaction image klshdg
speaking of
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i also. did this? i don't remember any context for it tho, i think it may have been another one of the requests?
on to the next folder! here we skip december, then looks like i've posted everything in january, then there's no february folder, so on to march 2013!
starting out strong with this one lskdfjs
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so i did actually post like the big middle drawing there, but it was posted before i colored, and also before i drew the other stuff on the page, but yes cue the homestuck art >:J starting with some runawaystuck fanart (and actually i know i added in a little jade and karkat to that page at some point, not sure if i scanned it again later after i added them or not)
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copied the talksprites for funsies :V rip jade ig
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ohohohoho i don't even remember what the context for this one was but i do definitely remember that i had fun with it X)
OH RIGHT THIS ONE YES IT'S NOT HOMESTUCK BUT!!
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FAIRY QUEEN LADY!! THE ORIGINAL DRAWING OF HER!! she was based on a Really Funky Graph i made one time messing around with inputs:
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i had a sliding phone so that's unfortunately as good a picture as it's gonna get bc i don't think i can recreate it 😅
april 2012!
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cleverbot doodles! kldsfjs i found the post i'd made of the colored drawing i did, and saw in the tags that i'd said ''#website characters #yeah i think there's a name for it but idk what it is'' gijinka friend. the word you are looking for is gijinka
and i had a lot of fun with this gijinka :V
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GOD SS PAINT!!!! i think i never posted this bc i was worried it looked too much like he was choking her skdlfj
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-oh wow this is. this picture is a lot smaller than i thought it was. slkdfj. anyway another that i can't remember if it's a trace or a replication but it's a yellow from the pokespe manga! please go read it if u haven't it's so so so good
skip to july 2013!
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i'm like 90% certain this is a replication. but there's still a 10% of uncertainty. regardless, it's de nam from final fantasy crystal chronicles!
next up is august 2013 :V
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ib time ib time
i doodled an au where garry was also a kid :V i think we (mogi and i) also joked around about like. a teenager au? they're both teens? i don't think any doodles came of it tho
october 2013, featuring doodles i know i drew in july bc i remember drawing them sldkfjds oh well
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these are a bunch of random ocs i came up with as like. a. ok it's not like a homestuck au bc it doesn't involve any of the comic characters in any way but this was a group of ocs i came up with that played through their own version of sburb and. everyone died but one person. i never came up with names or anything for any of them, it's literally like just what is there visible on the paper is all i had for them 😅 i'm p sure i redrew these guys a few years later, but i don't think i ever scanned it.
-ah i cannot upload any more, let me. multi-part this.
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house-of-slayterr · 2 years
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Ok so i discussed wedding stuff for Hannibal.... but how about Honeymoon? How would he feel about that? What would it be like?
And also a more general; how do you see the wedding playing out? im not even that big on wedding stuff but with him? ive been swooning ever since you brought it up 💕💟🥰💖✨
Every-time I think about Honeymoons, I think about the one from Twilight Breaking Dawn. I could imagine Hannibal renting out an entire island just for the three of us. He would spoil us rotten, not letting us lift a finger the entire time.
He would cook for us every meal, even surprising us with breakfast in bed. Something he probably doesn’t do at home cause he’s a bit of a germanophone. There would be times with all of us together and times were we would be one on one.
I imagine together time being cuddling down by the beach as the sun sets. Or sitting together while we each read. Dinners and desert. But alone time would be more intimate. I would probably just leave the house when you and Hannibal want your time together, and go explore the island.
You know, you’d do the traditional Honeymoon stuff!😏 Hannibal would be FERAL now that you’re his wife. Oh Lord, he would worship your body in every way possible. He certainly wouldn’t be gentle, so I hope you’re not expecting such. He would have bought you thousands of dollars worth of lingerie. He probably just gets a kick of making you walk around the house in it. Nobody is here on the island, and the phones are off. There’s nobody to disturb you or interrupt.
Hannibal is very artistic. I could imagine him begging you to pose for him so he could draw you for his collection. He would keep the drawings safe in his office back at home, and probably look at them in between patients. Probably just to remind himself that you’re real and you’re really his. But I digress, be prepared to be exhausted after the honeymoon. He can and will take you on every surface in he house. Maybe even skinny dipping down in the water. And intimate showers to clean you up after.
He’s one of those cheeky bastards that’s proud of the marks he leaves on you. Of course he’d make sure you’re safe and not hurt, but to see you covered in hickeys and bruises and rope burns, god he wouldn’t know how to function. This man would do anything for you! Not going to lie, I think he’d even let you be dominate if you wanted to. He’d probably find it amusing if you were shy about it at first. But Lord is he into it, he’ll never admit it out loud. But seeing that you want him just as much as he wants you, he’d let you do anything you wanted to him in bed.
My alone time with him would be much different. He would let me help with meals, teaching me proper techniques in a sensual, and highly touch based way. Guiding my hands in every task and praising me every-time I do something right. I just know I would be a blushing mess hearing this man whisper praises in my ear. If you happened to be around, you would scold him for making me forget how to breath, reminding him that I’m fragile. But he’d just have a stupid smirk on his face.
He would let me cuddle up to his chest and read me books in his native tongue. Just stroking my hair and letting me rest. I would look up at him with so much love in my eyes, it would probably distract the poor man. I’d beg him for endless forehead kisses. And he would never decline me.
He would explore the island with me, watching me take countless pictures of everything. He’d help me collect firewood for the fireplace, and flowers to gift to you. He wouldn’t even be upset with me for catching and petting the local animals. Something again, he wouldn’t let slide at home. He already thinks Williams obsession with dogs is weird, he doesn’t need me bringing a deer into the house. But he would just enjoy watching me get excited and be amazed by things.
Hannibal loves to watch the two of us interact, not daring to interrupt. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, wether it’s something so simple as painting each others nails, or doing each others hair. He’s watching form afar in awe, so happy that we both get along so much. He would hate if his lovers didn’t love each other as well. He would find our late night, drunken gossip sessions amusing. We would talk about the most random things, like movies or books we’d recently watched.
But he’d perk up if he heard us talking about him. Somethings you’d keep to yourself, but you’d probably tell me all about the things Hannibal did to you. Just because you need to fully process the fact that they actually happened, because you were so high floating on cloud 9, you couldn’t sworn you dreamed up half of it. Hearing you brag about him, my man would have to exhibit the most self restraint he ever has. More than he ever did trying not to kill Jack Crawford.
He thinks our bonding time is important. So as much as he’d want to take you right there, he wouldn’t unless he was invited to. If he saw us cuddling while we watched a horror movie, his heart would melt. It probably the cutest damn thing the psychiatrist has ever fucking seen. He’s not a fan of movies, so he lets them be our thing. But of course if we wanted to talk about the plot with him, he’d listen intently.
He loves us both in his own special way. He loves that he has a more traditional relationship with you. When he’s back home, he carries a picture of you in his wallet. He takes you to events and shows you off as his wife, knowing that no one else can touch you, or love you like he can. But with me, it’s much more innocent than he ever thought he was capable of. He respects my sexuality and the fact that I’m not overly touchy most of the time. I’m his sweet partner and the best friend of his wife. He knows I’ll be with you when he’s away at work. I’m not as social so he doesn’t show me off much, but he would still brag about me in my absence. I feel Hannibal could die happy with us by his side, no matter what came his way, he could handle it as long as we’re there.
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crazybigredlove · 2 years
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11th July 2013 
Dear Pete, 
Bachelor Number Two. Because this is my life and I’m incapable of dating like a normal person, this happily ever after was forced to an abrupt end when Prince Charming made mention in a message today about women who have careers as being sad. He followed it up with: It must be so tough on them knowing that they're only wasting their time till they have children. 
While the idea of never working again is somewhat appealing, there are a million less pompous ways to suggest to a woman that if you had kids together she wouldn't have to work anymore. Did he expect me to thank him for saving me from a lifetime of earning my own income and having the option of continuing to hold onto some shred of independence? Or did he seriously think that luring me into a situation where if the marriage ended I would retain no sense of self beyond being his wife, or a skill set that I could bank on to support myself would actually be an enticing offer? 
Jerk. 
Ah well. There is still the hope that Bachelor Number One, the man I have nicknamed Big Red, will reappear and carry me across the threshold of a cupcake bakery whilst declaring his undying love for me. The scene works best if he serenades me with a cover of Bruno Mars's 'Just The Way You Are' while we gaze lovingly at each other. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure that I'm qualified to pick myself a future husband off a profile page worth of information but really that seems to be what it wants from me. One of the guys actually told me how I seem really down-to-earth and like I have my head switched on. That message came through just after I finished teaching myself to play 'Call Me Maybe' on the ukulele you bought me for Christmas. 
Bachelor Number Three stepped up to the plate this evening. The third and final hope from the website. His sexy phone voice convinced me to make last minute plans even though any hope of a white picket fence vanished after Bachelor Number Two’s message. Still, there was a vague glimmer of possibility and it seemed silly to not at least give him a chance. 
All the buttons on Bachelor Number Three’s plaid shirt were done up, giving the appearance of his attire being a choking hazard. With a brief hello he produces a snap lock sandwich bag filled to the brim with tea bags. 
"Oh, do you always bring your own?" He laughed. "You're obviously not a tea drinker. You only need to have one experience with an establishment that doesn’t have your brand before you start carrying your own everywhere. Don't worry," he winked. "It can be something I teach you all about." "Oh goody." "Let me tell you about me." 
Forty-five minutes of discussing how academically inclined and successful he is and I was ready to run for the door. 
Afterwards Christopher asked if I could see Bachelor Number Three again because he wants to see what other quirks he has, but if forty-five minutes is enough to get me yawning then forever isn't looking very good and I'm not marrying someone just so Christopher has some amusing anecdotes to listen to. 
Maybe my sights are set a little high, but I'm aiming for that feeling where you can't get enough of each other. Where you stare at each other and have to restrain yourself from tearing the other persons clothes off. It's that first date where you have to drag yourselves away from each other at the end of the night, not a date where forty-five minutes in I'm faking yawns and claiming to have lots of work to do just so it will draw to a close. 
Reading this back I sound like a nasty cow. Ugh. Am so moody because of my failed and flailing love life. Yesterday I was full of sunshine and nice things to say about people. Perhaps I should only write letters yesterday? 
Please be so kind as to explain to your brother that there is no housekeeping service. He is required to pick up his own dishes, particularly as he's living here rent-free. 
Tell you a secret? I think he misses you. Oh God. Look at me. I nearly had an emotion. Again. Ugh. 
Liv x 
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fang-wife · 3 years
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voyeur | m. izuku 
➳ tags ;; sub!izuku, dom!reader, watching hentai together?, reader is mean and nice </3, quirkless college au!izuku, corruption kink/religious guilt, unprotected sex/creampies, established relationship, afab reader
➳ wc ;; 2.1k
➳ a /n ;; @/sems-diarie made a post abt this a while ago n my brain wouldn’t let it be so. here we are </3 
➳ plot ;; izuku didn’t sneak you into your dorm to watch.. this with you. but he has a habit of letting you do what you like. 
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This is embarassing. 
He knows this is embarassing - more embarassing than he really cares to admit to. He should really know better by now then to let you do as you please. You’re always stringing him along with your schemes and plans and he loses sight of his morals. His standards. 
Then again, he doesn’t have any at this point. The point of him paying for this single dorm was so that he could have space to focus. It wasn’t to sneak you in when his R.A. wasnt looking. Even more then that, it wasn’t to do.. whatever this was. 
It’d be one thing if he was having sex. That’s a normal thing to do in college, to sneak your partner in and smash. But you’re you, and all you ever seem to have planned for him are hair-brained schemes. It’s what this feels like - when you sit on his twin size bed and pat the empty space next to you. The distrust in his expression makes you laugh.. He sighs and does what you’ve asked. 
“What’re you doing?” 
He sounds exasperated. You laugh - too pleasantly for him to be comfortable. You type something into the search bar. Green eyes widen, skin warm and blushing. 
“Wh-what’re you doing?” 
You laugh as you prop the computer on the bed. You grin at him, tucking yourself under his arm. The website mocks him, all black background and animated women with huge tits covering the screen edge to edge. 
“You know something, after you’re done using incognito mode - you’re supposed to switch out to regular search, you know,” you explain. Your hand rests on his thigh. Deku freezes. 
The sound of your voice has always been something of a vice. It gets a little raspy like this - sultry in a way that has him squirming. He doesn’t know what to do. He can feel the heat of your body. 
“Would you know my surprise when I borrow your phone to look up when the convience store closes,” you inch closer, press further “only to see..” 
He knows what you saw before you announce it. His skin feels like it’s on fire, tuning out whatever description you’ve been giving of what he chose to watch. 
Maybe it was the way he was raised - but he always had such a specific sort of guilt towards pornography. Always told himself he shouldn’t watch things like that, shouldn’t touch himself. Izuku had always been a good, well-behaved boy. Done the right thing even when it was hard. 
Meeting you had changed that, changed him. He found his body craving you when he couldn’t control it and he ended up here - watching porn and jerking off with his shirt in his mouth. It’s all come back to haunt him, really. 
“I’m not mad, y’know,” ― and your tone goes soft - it’s assuring enough that Izuku can whimper out an okay, but you’re not done ― “I’m just curious. Can’t we watch it together?,” 
“That’s ― !” 
You flutter your lashes him. 
“That’s?” 
He has a million words that he can say. That he should say. Bad, wrong, immoral. Words that belong at the end of the sentence to describe what he’s doing with you and what he’s considering. 
None of that comes out. 
“That’s.. too much” 
You grin at him. 
“Do you not want too?” 
“..I didn’t say that, it’s just -” 
Your hand squeezes his thigh until your stiletto's dig into them. Your mouth trails his jaw with hot, open mouth kisses until your turning his head to face you. A hand splayed on his face, tongue deep in his mouth. French kissing makes him pant - hands twitching eagerly to touch you. He watches, dazed - the spit trail of saliva that stretches between you two. 
He’s so easy, it’s cute. You press forward with a chaste kiss. 
“Show me what you were watching, Izuku,” 
His hand trembles as he leans forward. He remembers the title - doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Within seconds, it shows up and he clicks. You lean forward too, observing the tags with a small smile on your face. 
“Milf, NTR, Gangbang,” 
“S-stop reading them!” 
You giggle. 
Without warning - you press play. Izuku finds himself frantic. Worried about the sound, the time, all of it - but you don’t seem to care. The AD comes on and you skip that too. It’s on. A familiar arousal blooms in his chest, the memory of what he’d seen appearing. You settle between his legs, your back pressed to his chest. You bring his hands around your waist.
“Let’s watch ~” 
Izuku face twists with displeasure. The plot nothing to ride home about - a lonely housewife goes out to a club and finds someone to take care of her needs. At first it’s just one stranger at the club - then two, then she’s surrounded and its too much. 
Izuku assumes you’re gonna find him disgusting, but when he looks at your face - you’re smiling, heart-beating in your chest. His eyes blow wide when you take his hand between your legs. You’re wet and you’re letting him touch you and he’s trying his hardest not to show how much he’s shaking. 
A little sigh of pleasure leaves your mouth when Izuku very carefully rubs your clit. It throbs under the pressure of big fingers - you hold his wrist and moan. He can hear the porn in the background but it doesn’t serve to distract him from you. 
“You want me to go n’ get fucked by a bunch of strangers, ‘zuku?” 
He shakes his head furiously. 
“Then you just like watching depraved shit, huh?” 
Unable to argue with you or with the the way his cock twitches and jumps in his jeans, he opts to whine. You can feel his it against your lower-back, the little wet-spot that presses to your thin tshirt. He’s too turned onto think properly - watching the way your body jerks and twitches. 
The woman on screen is stuffed to the brim with cock - it’s all over exaggerated he knows, but he thinks that’s why he likes it. Maybe he just likes the idea of fucking someone that stuffed fulled of cum, how it leaks and pours onto every surface and the way her cunt just seems to take it. And Izuku is such a good, well behaved boy - it’s never crossed his mind to think about doing it to you. 
And no, he doesn’t really want to see you get fucked by so many men but if there were more than one of him he’d be more than inclined to let you. His chest feels tight forgetting to breath. 
He thinks maybe you’re some kind of witch because you always seem to know what he wants before he does. The right way to push all of his buttons. 
“Oh, I see’ ― and he’s afraid of whatever words come out of your mouth next ― “you wanna fuck me full of your cum, Izuku? Wanna know how it feels raw?” 
He moans - loud and shameless and needy against your ear. A breathless laugh leaves your mouth because that’s exactly what he wants. He wants to fuck you full of cum, just picturing how good it might feel. 
You sit up on your knees and bend over a little - pulling short-shorts beneath the curve of your ass and thickest parts of your thigh. Your panties are drenched, clinging to your folds. He inhales sharply, frozen till as you lean forward - pulling them to one side. 
“Take your cock out ‘n fuck me then, baby” ― you challenge, dark and dangerous. Everything about you is so sinful and too tempting for him to ignore. His cock aches ― “Do your best”  
His body moves before he has a proper chance to feel shame. Whatever devils been whispering in his ear (read: you) has won whatever leftover dignity he has left. Without a proper word, his cock stands to attention. His hands are fidgety but they mange to settle on your waist. He guides you down on his dick, bottom lipped pulled between his teeth hard enough to draw blood. 
“Oh, fuck” 
He’s going to cum right away if he doesn’t take a breather. This is the first time he’s feeling you, and it feels so much better than he could understand. The lingering thoughts of the dangerous act silence by how tight and how wet and how willing your pussy is for him. The way your walls twitch - ache shamelessly around his cock. He’s fucking sliding in and out of you - it feels like a special privilege he’s done nothing to earn.
He’s shivering, over and over. When he looks down, he’s not all the way in. He’s not sure if he’s praying to god for the right reason - for forgiveness. All he can think about is how good it feels to be inside and how he absolutely doesn’t want to do anything else. 
“How’s it feel, Izuku?” 
He groans at the sound of your voice, the way you clench down on him and stretch so tightly around his shaft. He’s too wrapped up in the feeling of your cunt - like heaven and silk. 
“F-feels so, so good” 
Part of you thinks you should ride him, but another part of you is more interested in seeing how he fucks you. You snap the laptop closed and push it to the other side of the bed, before flipping around and laying on your back. His cock slips out and he snaps into reality - the way you have your legs in the air and your arms out. 
“I’ll let you fuck me as many times as you want today,” ― your legs reach and wrap around his waist, easily forcing his cock back inside ― “go on,” 
Izuku is a mess, really. His pants are only half-way pulled down and he’s wearing a nerdy graphic t-shirt. He’s borderline in hysterics over how good your pussy feels and can’t do anything other than thank you repeatedly and fuck you with an animalistic need. It’s clumsy like you’d expect, but he makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm. 
His cock is long and pretty - hits every spot you need it too. Izuku fucks you with shallow, sloppy thrusts - so needy and chasing his orgasm. Selfish and inexperienced. Every time he pushes forward, you can feel he’s throbbing. Aching to cum inside and unload. 
You reach a hand between the two of you to finish on your own time - planning on cumming before him. He doesn’t seem to care. 
“Ngh, ohh my god, feel’s’good” 
“Yeah? Gonna cum inside me, handsome? Makin’ such a pretty face for me” 
His stomach churns at the way you call him pretty. It sounds so sweet and adoring - but he knows that you’re a bully. He knows that about but fucks you with all his strength anyways - overly frustrated and fucked out of his mind by the feeling. Like a drug. He likes you so much he feels stupid over it. 
“Yeah, yeah ‘m gonna” 
Your own orgasm washes over you in a pleasant wave, squeezing his cock with force. He gasp and goes faster - all the thoughts washed away from his head. He needs to finish more than he needs anything. More than he needs to sleep for his 6am work-out and 8am class. More than he needs to be quiet because the walls of his dorm are paper thin. More than he needs to exercise self-control, he needs to cum so fuckin bad. 
“Look at me,” 
He follows your command, like always - and you look amused and fucked out just like he is. And Izuku has really never been this into anyone before so seeing you evokes feelings he can’t understand. 
“Oh, fuuck“ 
Briefly he understands that he really just came by looking at you, but nothing really makes sense to him. His eyes are heavy and he’s drooling onto your shoulder, spasming and clinging to your body with the most needy little whimpers. It’s so lewd, how he can feel his cum spurt out and coat your insides and his cock. It’s all so sinful but it feels so good, he can’t bring himself to care. 
“So,” ― you smile, full of mischief ― “if you want to be like that, we’ve got a few rounds to go” 
Izuku splutters at your comment and you laugh. He knows you’re not joking and he whines. You really are a bad influence on him. But with the way his cock is twitching to life again.. 
He might not be any better. 
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2K notes · View notes
scuttling · 3 years
Text
Happy Accidents
Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.
He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.
She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.
The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.
She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.
They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.
Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)
“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.
“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.
“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.
“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”
“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.
“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.
“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.
He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.
“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.
“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.
“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”
He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.
“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.
“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.
“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.
“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.
“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.
“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.
He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.
“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.
“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”
As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.
“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”
“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.
“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”
“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.
“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.
“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.
“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”
The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.
She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.
When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.
“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.
“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.
“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”
“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.
“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.
“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.
“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”
“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”
“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”
It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.
It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.
“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.
“I’ll unlock the door.”
She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.
“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.
“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.
“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.
“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”
“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.
“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”
“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.
“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.
She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.
“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”
She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.
“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.
“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.
“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.
“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.
“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.
“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.
“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”
He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.
“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.
“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”
“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.
Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.
“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”
“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.
“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.
“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”
“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.
“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.
“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.
“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Of course. We’ll see you then.”
It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.
Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.
“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.
The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.
“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.
“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”
“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”
“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.
They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.
“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”
“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.
“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”
“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.
She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.
When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.
“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.
“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.
“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”
He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.
“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”
“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”
That is an understatement.
Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.
“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.
She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.
“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”
“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”
He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.
“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.
While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.
“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.
“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.
“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”
“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.
“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.
“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”
“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.
After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.
“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.
“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.
“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”
“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.
“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”
Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc
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jaemsun00 · 3 years
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Nct mark + 00 line when you give them an unexpected blowjob.
This is mature, do not interact if it make you uncomfortable. Exhibitionism acts.
- MARK
It was almost midnight and Mark was still stuck at the company room at the desk, writing whatever words came to his mind. You sat a fair bit away on your own chair, spinning around tiredly. He has told you, you should go home and go to sleep but you refused to leave him alone.
“This is so fucking annoying” you heard him swear, before ripping the paper out of the book, scrunching it up and failing to chuck it in the bin right beside his feet.
Just as you were about to say something a very interesting idea came to your mind. Mark has admitted that he has been feeling very uninspired to write any of his lyrics lately. Maybe he needed something to get the inspiration back.
Slowly walking towards him, you planned it out. It was going to be simple and Mark would not dare to say no to what your thinking.
Mark snapped his head when your hand touched his shoulder softly. “Let’s do something” you smile weirdly at him and he did eyes you. “I would love to but I have to finish this by tomorrow” he motioned to his book.
“I can help you” Mark tried not to let out a laugh when you said that. It’s no secret that your not talented in that area. “To get inspiration I mean” you scoff seeing how he was hiding his laughter. “Oh yeah? How you gonna do that?”
He was oblivious to your plan which made it seem even better. Mark was taken back when you spun his chair around and slowly dropped to your knees in between his legs. “Like this” you smile up at him, seeing how he gulped when you two made eye contact. he lifted his hips for you to slip his pants down and get right to work.
- RENJUN
“It’s very pretty” you smile at the painting Renjun has been working on the past two hours. You’ve barely been awake two minutes and he was forcing you to see all the drawings he has worked on lately. “You reckon?” He took the paper back and admired it himself.
“Mmm. Now can we go to beddd” you whine, hands resting on his desk as he shook his head. Ever since you’ve woken up with no boyfriend beside you, you’ve been whining to him about it. “Go by yourself” scoffing, you stood tall over his sitting figure.
“Renjun” he hummed as a response making you a bit more mad. But why not play with him a bit. “Renjun” you try again in a more sing song voice. Your boyfriend still ignored you. Thankfully the desk he was working on was easy to get underneath, yeah you hit your head once but who cares.
Renjun was a bit weirded out with you crawling under the table, but he wasn’t expecting your hand rubbing at him through his pants. “Baby?” He groaned out, pushing his chair back to see you smiling up at him. “Your just gonna-“ “okay I’m going to bed.” You say getting up, but Renjun was faster to grab onto your wrist. “You can’t leave. You’ve started something” “if you come to bed then I’ll finish it” your smile was so cunningly that Renjun couldn’t say no and followed you back to bed.
- JENO
It was funny, seeing how normal Jeno was trying to be while talking through the headset with Haechan. But you continued your task, bopping your head up and down on his length. “Go le- fuck left” your boyfriend tried to hide his moan. Haechan must of said something back because Jeno told him to shut up.
“I kicked my toe” he lied through his clenched teeth, just as you planned you took him in your mouth fully, gagging a bit. That just made Jeno want to cry out. You’ve never done this, never have you thought you would be doing this. But here you are, on your knees and giving your boyfriend a blow job under his desk.
“Okay I’m gonna- I’m gonna go” he stuttered before quickly taking his headset off and placing it on the keyboard. His head dropped down to see you doing your task. “Fuck you look so pretty” he smiled, hands running through your messy hair, making a make shift ponytail as his hips bucked into your face. Taking you by surprise.
- HAECHAN
The only reason why you were waiting under your boyfriend desk was because of the stuff you over heard him and some of his mates talking about. How he would love to get head under the desk while he played a game on his computer.
“I’ve got food” you heard his voice before the door opened, Hacehan saw the empty bed and sighed. Thinking maybe you went home already with how long he was taking. Just as he was about to take his phone out, he saw you shift in your spot under the table.
“What are you doing?” You crawl out of the small spot, facing Haechan who looked so confused right now. “Well I was- I was going to surprise you with... with-“ you felt so stupid having to explain it. Hacehan had no clue what was going on in your mind.
“With? Scaring me?” You shake your head, god how you wished someone would come in and save you from the embarrassment your about to face. “I was going to suck you off while you played the game” you mumble but Haechan heard it all. Quickly smiling at your words.
“Oh really?” You could hear the teasing smirk he wore but you couldn’t let him see how red your cheeks have turned since admitting that. “Well what’s stopping you? Get back under” he waved his hands towards the desk and started walking towards it. “Your? Uh” you let out a nervous laugh.
“Don’t say your getting shy now, come on you said you wanted to” he smiled so innocently at you as he sat on his gaming chair, leaving a space for you to crawl back under. “The food will go cold” “who cares. I don’t want blue balls”
- JAEMIN
“What are you doing?” Jaemin laughed as your wondering hands made their way to his thighs. He was just peacefully laying on the bed, laptop propped up beside him as he watched some sort of drama. “Nothing” you lie before your hand starts going further up to his cock, rubbing lightly before he grabbed at your wrist.
“You have work soon” he warned as if that was going to stop you. You nod, trying to move your hand again. “Your going to be late if you start it up” he looked down at his pants which were loose around his waist. “And? It will be fine”
Jaemin wanted it tell you no, you had a job to do and last time you went in late your boss threatened your job. But as soon as you started peeling his pants off, the words in his mouth disappeared. But your mouth, your mouth was now full with him. Eyes never left his own as you licked his tip.
“Your- fuck that feels good” he moaned out, hands running through your hair and playing with it as you worked on him. Jaemin felt himself grow hard and big in your mouth and gosh it felt too good not to lift his hips to get more friction.
- YANGYANG
He has spoken to you about this before, how it would be amazing if you gave him head as he played a game. Being bored all day you decided today was the best time to do it. What you didn’t expect was YangYang to have his mic on.
So he would just have to be quite. You usually sat on the floor studying as he played his games. So he thought nothing of it as you moved closer to his legs. The shorts he wore giving away how he wasn’t wearing any boxers right now. He had no plans so it didn’t surprise you.
“Nah nah I work fair and square your just a bad player” you have no idea who he was insulting, nor did you care. Yangyang stopped moving when he felt you prying his shorts off. It was hard as he didn’t lift his hips, giving up on trying you just pull his member out.
“One second” YangYang spoke, muting himself before staring down at you. “What are you doing baby?” He laughed as you started moving your hand up his shaft. “Nothing much” you shrug as if you weren’t making him harder in your hands. “Turn the mic back on”
Yangyang widened his eyes at you, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think the boys want to hear that” “just do it” your eyes tell him he should listen. So he does, clicking the mute off and getting back to his arguing members.
You licked the underside did his length before shoving him whole in your mouth. Yangyang stuttered his words as he tried to focus on playing. But it was rather hard when you were blowing him right now. “Holy fuck” he let out loudly, his members thinking maybe he died in the game.
- SHOTARO
“Please” he begged but you ignored him again, laying on his lap as he tried to push you off. “Your my personal pillow so no. I’m not moving” you whine back at him, moving your head on his lap as he just sighed, letting you win this time.
The movie he watched continued playing as you turned your head, meeting his crotch and a smirk grew on your face. Shotaro clearly didn’t know your thoughts even when you moved to your side, so your face was met right where his dick rested.
“Are you hungry?” He asked innocently, pulling out his phone so he could order. “I’m very hungry” you say sensually but your boyfriend was oblivious to it.
“What do you want? Chicken? Or-“ “you” you spit out making him laugh awkwardly. “Yeah well I’m not edible so-“ you scoff at him, hands running down his stomach, feeling how he shivered every time your hand got closer.
“Right here? Sungchan will be back soon and I’m sure he-“ “it’s fine baby we just need to be fast” Shotaro didn’t know why his dick was growing at your words. Does he want to get caught? While he was in his thoughts you were pulling him out of his briefs. Already getting started with your hand.
“We can always go into your room?” The boy shook his head, lifting his hips so he could push his pants down to his ankles. “Just let’s be fast” you smiled at his words. You always get what you want either way or another. “I’m sure we will be very fast”
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raibebe · 4 years
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Of needles and seduction
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Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex
A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”
You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.
“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.
With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.
“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.
“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”
“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.
“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.
“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.
“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”
“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.
“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.
“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”
When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.
“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.
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The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.
After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.
You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.
When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.
“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.
“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”
After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.
“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.
“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.
“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.
The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”
After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.
“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.
“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.
All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)
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Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.
The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.
A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”
Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”
“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.
After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.
So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.
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The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.
“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.
“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.
The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.
“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.
“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.
“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.
“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.
Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.
Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.
“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.
“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.
With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.
You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.
God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.
With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.
“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.
“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.
For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.
“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  
“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.
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jjacob · 3 years
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all i want for christmas is you
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❝ the school had started to take notice of you. lee juyeon, however, had always noticed. ❞
PAIRING ▸ lee juyeon x fem!reader (ft. best friend!lee minho)
GENRES ▸ fluff, high school au, sports au, best friends to lovers au
WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity but !! lots of !! fluff !! 
SUMMARY ▸ the bet was simple: find a date to the winter ball. the only problem was that juyeon didn’t want just any girl. he wanted you.
PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey
WORD COUNT ▸ 5055 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ merry christmas! this is a gift for addy @honeyju​ the biggest juyeon simp ik !! ily addy i am excited/scared/not emotionally ready to read the minho one which ! btw y’all should read here bc our stories are loosely connected! also disclaimer: i know jack shit ab football but i tried
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LEE JUYEON TENDED TO REGRET HALF THE THINGS HE SAID SOMETIMES. 
In eighth grade, Juyeon’s sense of humor was largely self-deprecating and consisted of saying he wanted to die at the slightest inconvenience. But, with his spectacular timing, he let the joke slip in front of a teacher once and froze up upon seeing her concerned expression. Juyeon later received a note from the counselor’s office and had to convince them that he was perfectly fine.
In tenth grade, Juyeon had grown past his phase of dark humor and moved onto high school football. He made the cut for the team the previous year, and managed to make it on the varsity team by the time he was a sophomore. In the beginning of the season, they asked who wanted to be captain the next year, and Juyeon boldly declared that he did. Thus, he was ridiculed and sentenced to pick up balls and clean up the gym after every practice from then on.
Now, as a high school junior in the varsity football team, Juyeon had screwed himself over by making a stupid bet with his best friend, Lee Minho.
Lee Minho was, in short, a conniving bastard. Juyeon never should have trusted him and gone along with his antics. The mere thought of what he had gotten himself into was enough to send his heart into overdrive.
The bet sounded simple enough: find a date to the Winter Ball.
Of course, it was easier said than done, but Juyeon was a star athlete and had girls sliding in his DMs left and right. He could easily find a date if he wanted to, and, honestly, Juyeon only needed to send a few texts and he would probably be secured for the dance. The problem was, however, that Juyeon only wanted you.
Minho was well aware of Juyeon’s pitiful, unrequited love towards you. It was probably the reason he suggested the bet; his best friend either wanted to see him miserable or see him score a chance with you. Either way, Juyeon wasn’t sure his heart was ready to shoot his shot.
Juyeon had crushed on you ever since you sat next to him in the seventh grade and let him borrow your pencil. It was such a silly start to his admiration for you, but his feelings grew stronger when the both of you actually became friends. You were so bright when you laughed, so sweet when you spoke, and so adorable when you smiled. Juyeon had never felt this way about anyone else and always got butterflies when he saw you. Juyeon was never one to chase after girls but he would find himself constantly thinking about what you were up to and having several internal dilemmas over whether he should ask you to hang out or not.
Five years later and Juyeon still harbored feelings for you. Now, they had matured into something deeper, but you still racked his brain nevertheless. It didn’t help that you had a major glow-up in high school and were probably the most beautiful person Juyeon had ever seen.
The school started to take notice of you.
Juyeon, on the other hand, had always noticed.
“Are you sure we can finish a medium before practice?” Minho asked Juyeon, setting a box of pizza on the table in front of him. “Also, I saw Y/N by the gym earlier.”
Juyeon perked up. “Y/N?”
“Yeah,” Minho replied, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza for himself. “You know what day it is, right?”
Minho took a bite out of his pizza, observing Juyeon with a raised brow. His best friend was on the baseball team but treating themselves to pizza had become a monthly ritual. Despite being on different teams, he was closer to Minho than his football teammates.
“Thursday?”
“And that means?”
Right.
Juyeon had formulated an elaborate plan to ask you out during the football game today, but, of course, it all depended on whether their team won or not. It would have been kind of ridiculous to propose after a loss. On the bright side, he knew he could count on the fact that you’d actually be present considering you were a cheerleader.
But what if you already had a date? You surely hadn’t mentioned it to him or posted about it on social media, so he was riding on an assumption that you haven’t been asked. That was bizarre to Juyeon, though, because you were the prettiest person he had ever seen. However, it was true that you were gradually getting popular, and that made Juyeon a touch nervous.
“I ask her out tomorrow,” Juyeon breathed out. “Am I ready for this?”
Minho scoffed lightly. “Are you ever?”
Juyeon frowned at his best friend, scrunching up his nose at his distasteful comment. “What about you? Have you gotten a date?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Juyeon sighed. That was probably all he would get out of Lee Minho today. Once Minho set his mind on something, he carried it out diligently until the end. Juyeon honestly had no idea who he wanted to bring since Minho didn’t like talking about girls he was interested in, but he supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal as long as his best friend was happy.
It wasn’t like Juyeon was never going to hear about his friend’s endeavors. After all, he did pick up on Minho’s slow descent from an apathetic individual to a whipped ball of fluff. If Juyeon mentioned that to his best friend, however, he would probably be ridiculed for consistently being whipped for you since the seventh grade.
Juyeon nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of his ringer going off. He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket, ignoring Minho’s teasing smirk at the sight of his frazzled self.
y/n: hey :) i’m gonna drop off some gingerbread cookies my mom made after practice so lmk when i can come over
Juyeon must have saved a country in a past life for this kind of luck.
juyeon: i love your mom’s cookies. you can come over whenever you’d like
y/n: how about we walk home together after practice?
juyeon: sounds good to me
Now, the pizza was starting to make his mouth water, but if you were walking home with him, Juyeon was ready to drop it and run to see you even though he loved pizza. But Juyeon loved you more than he loved pizza, and he believed that was true love.
“She made me cookies,” Juyeon announced.
“She made you cookies,” Minho repeated, leaning forward in surprise.
“Well, her mom did, but yeah.”
Minho turned his attention back to his pizza. “So this is about your mommy kink again.”
“I don’t have a fucking mommy—why would you say that?” Juyeon cried out, kicking his friend’s shin under the table.
“You don’t? Last time I checked, she was making dinner in the kitchen when I came over yesterday.”
“I’m talking about the kink!”
Yet, even a silly back-and-forth with Minho couldn’t get Juyeon down from his high over you. He was still processing the fact that you were going to walk home with him and, if Juyeon played his cards right, maybe he could get a feel of how comfortable you would be if he asked you out during the game tomorrow.
Minho snickered. “You look happy.”
Juyeon couldn’t even mask his lovesick smile and flushed cheeks. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, his head spinning at the thought of you.
“Shut up, Minho.”
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The only problem with you being on the cheerleading team was that you were extremely distracting.
Juyeon was the star quarterback and frankly, it was kind of pathetic that the one thing that kicked him in the ass was seeing you in the knee socks and pom-poms. It didn’t help that you were a flyer so Juyeon’s stomach pitted with anxiety whenever he saw you being thrown up and whenever he heard a scream coming from the direction of the cheerleaders.
Today was different, though. Juyeon could care less about the screams and falls from the corner of the field. All he could think about was you and how he was going to ask you out. If his plan was going to work, it was going to draw a lot of attention and be quite embarrassing if it failed.
All of his confidence got knocked down with a single sweep when he saw someone asked you to the dance.
One of the cheerleaders broke into a fit of giggles at the sight, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god!”
You were frozen stiff, an awkward smile on your face as the guy walked onto the field with a sign and about a dozen roses. Juyeon could feel his heart sinking to the ground with each step the guy took, with each second his smile grew brighter.
“Is he seriously confessing during practice?” Sohn Youngjae asked, brows furrowed as he rested his arm on Juyeon’s shoulder. “That’s real brave.”
“What’s his deal doing it here? He isn’t even on the team,” Juyeon said, coming off more bitter than he had expected.
Younghoon scoffed. “It’s a bold move. He must be confident that Y/N’s going to say yes.”
Juyeon squared his shoulders. He was conflicted with the swell of anger and deflation of you possibly being taken, but nevertheless, all he could do was watch helplessly as you were being asked out. From where they were on the field, Juyeon couldn’t hear much, but he could see your reactions quite well. The wolf-whistles and cheers were pissing him off, but he was fixed on you.
He turned to look towards Minho, who was practicing on the field adjacent to theirs. His best friend met his gaze immediately like they had some form of exclusive telepathic communication. Minho nodded towards you and raised a brow, as if nudging Juyeon to go interrupt them. That, however, was something he was far too cowardly to bring himself to do.
Your voice resounded clearer than Juyeon had expected.
“I’m really sorry,” you apologized sincerely, ducking your head and keeping your hands entwined behind you. “I’m not interested, but I do appreciate the gesture.”
Juyeon felt a weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve felt relieved that you shot him down or nervous that you rejected an attractive, confident guy who clearly liked you. However, he soon had no time to mull over that when the guy’s reaction was getting more aggressive than crestfallen.
“Y/N, I asked you out in front of all these people,” he said with a distasteful laugh. “Are you seriously rejecting me right now?”
“Sorry, I just don’t want to go with you,” you replied firmly, voice dropping as you became more conscious of your surroundings. “I’m sorry it had to be public but you didn’t really give me a choice.”
For a split second, Juyeon wondered how he could still hear you when you were practically muttering at this point, and then he realized that he started walking to you without even realizing. His feet carried him unknowingly, hand balled at his side and eyes stony and trained on the guy.
“You could’ve just accepted it and told me later that you didn’t want to go with me,” he said with a scoff. “It’s like you enjoy humiliating others publicly.”
Your teammates rushed forward to argue and fend him off while you opened your mouth to protest, but Juyeon was faster, moving in front of you so he was head-to-head with the guy.
“She said she’s not interested,” he said with a threatening undertone, wondering where he managed to muster up the courage to be this assertive.
You were visibly shocked by Juyeon’s actions, and he couldn’t even blame you because he was equally just as surprised as you were. Yet, all he could do was glare daggers down at the other guy with steely eyes and frown until he backed off.
“Thanks,” you said softly once the guy had left.
Juyeon was flustered by all the girls giggling behind you but was amazed by how cool and collected you remained despite that. He turned to you, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He knew he was getting an earful about this from his teammates after practice and most definitely from Minho as well.
“No problem,” Juyeon replied, cheeks red. “He was bothering you. I couldn’t just ignore it.”
“That was really sweet of you, Juyeon.” You bit back a smile and suggested, “Meet you at the front gates after practice?”
“See you then.”
Even though Juyeon could’ve spent the rest of practice talking to you, he sprinted back as fast as he could because his cheeks were only getting redder as the cheerleaders gushed about what he did for you. He could hear their gossip and whispering even as he was running back to his team. Juyeon was positive he wouldn’t escape the embarrassment, though, because Lee Jaehyun was smirking at him when he got back.
“You’re blushing, dude.”
Juyeon shoved him.
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There was a universal law that was newly decreed. It read: Lee Minho shall never text, call, or speak to Lee Juyeon whenever Y/N was around.
The reason for that being the fact that Juyeon was easily embarrassed and Minho’s texts were not helping his case. He felt it was rude enough to check his phone while he was walking with you, but every time he saw a notification flash, his eyes widened with sheer distress over Minho’s texts.
minho: like three people asked me if you and y/n are fucking bc of what you pulled during practice today
minho: wait are y’all fucking and just not telling me
minho: i knew it was sus that she was coming over to your house
juyeon: fake news!! stop making me feel shy :(
Juyeon decided he had enough Lee Minho for today and turned off his phone.
“That was honestly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” you gushed to Juyeon as you walked home with him, fingers looped around the straps of your backpack. “Way cooler than you punting footballs.”
“No need to flatter me,” Juyeon replied coolly but his shy smile and red-tipped ears said otherwise. “That guy was being unnecessarily aggressive.”
“His proposal was out of nowhere!” you exclaimed. “I don’t get what he expected me to do.”
Juyeon smiled through the pain. Lord, give me strength, he prayed to whatever divine power was out there.
“Are you not interested in having a date to the dance then?” Juyeon asked, looking down at you curiously.
You paused for a moment and Juyeon thought his heart would stop in anticipation for your answer. Come to think of it, he had never seen you go to a school dance with a date before. You were always with your friend group. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to see you stick with them, but Juyeon was hoping he could change that.
“Well,” you started, “if the right person asked me then I wouldn’t be opposed.”
Juyeon couldn’t exactly read your smile but it made him want to faint. The rest of the walk back home was spent talking about school and football, but Juyeon couldn’t get your answer to his question out of his head. He even walked past his house because his head was so full of you, resulting in you needing to stop him and tell him that they had already reached his place.
“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Juyeon’s mom chirped with a good-natured smile. “How has your mom been?”
Juyeon’s eyes widened upon the realization that they never stopped by at your place first to get the cookies. He opened his mouth to interject but you went on to answer.
“She’s been great, Mrs. Lee,” you replied, smiling just as big, and pulled out a box of cookies from your bag. “She wanted me to give these to you.”
“That’s so sweet! Give her my thanks,” his mom replied and opened the door wider once she accepted the cookies. “Come in for some tea, will you?”
Juyeon was practically frozen at the doorway while you were taking off your shoes and walking inside. If you had the cookies with you this entire time, then why didn’t you just give them to him to take home himself? Unless you were worried about the courtesy, it was a bit out of your way to take the time to walk home with Juyeon to deliver them.
“Juyeon, what are you doing out there?” his mom asked. “Come inside. It’s cold.”
“Right.”
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Having you over at his house wasn’t exactly the sparkly fantasy that Juyeon thought it would be.
He was getting quite jealous of your mom hogging all of your attention. It wasn’t like you and Juyeon drifted apart during high school, so he wasn’t sure why his mom had to pull you away from him and have her own conversation with you. The worst part was that Juyeon couldn’t even join in on the conversation. He had no idea what they were even talking about.
That is, until his mom brought up the dance.
“Do you have a date, Y/N?” Juyeon’s mom asked.
“I don’t,” she replied. “I usually just go with my friends.”
“You’re so pretty, though,” Mrs. Lee tutted. “I’m sure someone must’ve asked you out.”
“Actually, someone asked me today,” you said. There was a moment of silence as you looked over at Juyeon while his gaze bore into yours. For a moment, you were struggling for what to say, mouthing words that weren’t being processed. Juyeon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly once you regained your composure. “Juyeon actually helped me out.”
Mrs. Lee straightened up. “My son did?” She looked amused as she turned to Juyeon.
“Yeah,” you answered, grinning. “He was really cool.”
Juyeon blushed darkly once their eyes were on him. “W-what? I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t even doing that much. I was just helping out. You know, being a decent person,” he rambled and stood up. “Anyways, isn’t it getting late? Mom, Y/N has to go home soon and it’s gonna be pitch black outside if you keep her here.”
“Oh, you’re right.” Mrs. Lee frowned as she peered out the window. “Juyeon, you walk her home then.”
“What?” he sputtered out, looking between you and his mom before he caved, muttering, “I’ll go get my jacket.”
After an exchange of goodbyes, you had stepped out of the house and waited while Juyeon was slipping his shoes on. There was a moment of struggle where he had tied his laces too tight and couldn’t get the shoe on but he managed to slip it on after a few seconds of internal screaming. Juyeon zipped up his jacket the moment he stepped outside, the brisk coldness making his goosebumps rise.
“You really don’t have to walk me back,” you told Juyeon. “It’s cold outside.”
“It’s really late,” Juyeon replied, rubbing his hands together in hopes that the friction would provide some heat. “You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself, and I really don’t mind.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled, ducking your face. “For this, for what you did during practice—everything.”
Juyeon was glad that you weren’t looking at him because his mouth was opening and closing over and over again like a fish. He was also thankful for the fact that he could blame the dust of pink across his cheeks on the cold winter bite. Unfortunately, you lived close by so Juyeon didn’t have time to come up with a cool response and he didn’t want to leave things like this. There was a good vibe going on and he was upset that he couldn’t act upon it; when it came to you, Lee Juyeon was a coward.
“Um, we’re here so…” Juyeon trailed off when he turned to you, sort of thrown off by how beautiful you looked with your windswept hair and flushed cheeks. Dazed, he reached forward and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. “It’s good I walked you home and you’re not like, lost or… something—I’ll shut up now.”
You laughed, and it was an octave higher as if you were rattled from him touching your hair. “Ah, yes, a few streets down can be a harrowing trek.”
Juyeon laughed with you before his eyes settled on you. Your hands were crossed, rubbing your arms that were prickled with goosebumps. A wave of guilt washed through Juyeon and led him to strip his jacket off immediately. He ignored the piercing chill and put his jacket around your shoulders, making sure they covered your bare arms.
“My house is right here,” you argued. “You’re going to be cold.”
“Keep it on. I have something to tell you after the game,” Juyeon said firmly. It was his second burst of courage for you today and he was a little too amped up for his own good. “If you don’t like it then give me back my jacket tomorrow.”
Before you could respond, Juyeon turned on his heel and bolted home, the biggest grin across his face because he was head-over-heels for you.
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Juyeon had never been so nervous in his life.
The game was underway, Juyeon’s leg bouncing as he eyeballed the scoreboard. His team was strong in the first two quarters, cutting it close by the third, but now they were neck-to-neck. They had ended with a tie and now they decided to go into overtime for the sake of choosing a winner for the game. It was a sudden death round so whoever scored first would win the game. Juyeon, however, found it difficult to concentrate.
Especially with Lee Minho breathing down his back.
“Are you ready?” his best friend asked.
“Yes—well, no, but I don’t really have a choice.”
“That’s true.”
“I already made the sign and told the team and everything,” Juyeon whined. “I really screwed myself over, Minho.”
Minho pushed at the back of his head. “Dude, I’m talking about the game.”
“Oh, that—that’s fine,” Juyeon stammered. “Fifteen minutes—we just have to win, and then I have to ask out the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
“You could chicken out,” Minho suggested, “but that also comes with me never letting you live it down.”
“You see, I kind of already implied that I’m going to tell her something important.”
“You did?” Minho’s voice was somewhere between shocked and impressed.
“Shit, I gotta go,” Juyeon muttered, pushing himself off the bench. “Keep the poster safe for me!”
“Good luck, champ!”
Juyeon, sweaty and bangs sticking to his forehead, had to ignore every distraction and think about winning the game before his stomach threw itself into a pool of anxiety over asking you out. He got in a huddle with his team in the remaining fifteen seconds they had before they had to get in formation and lowered the facemask of his helmet. It was up to this one last play to determine whether they would win the game or not.
“Just like we practiced, alright?” Juyeon told them. “Double-wing power pass. We get them to bite thinking it’s a run play and then open up a passing lane.”
“Alright, let’s go,” Jaehyun cheered, and the rest of them put in their mouth guards and lowered their facemasks.
Juyeon took a shaky breath as he got in formation at the line of scrimmage. His heart was racing but he wasn’t sure it was about the game. Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and held his ground. The whistle blew and the crowd was silent, observing the tension on the field carefully.
“Silver-80! Silver-80! Hut! Hut! Hike!” Juyeon yelled, and the center, Sangyeon, snapped the ball to him.
Juyeon faked a handoff to Jaehyun, the fullback, and spun around, rolling to his right. Changmin sped up in front of Juyeon to defend him. A smile tugged at Juyeon’s lips. Their plan was working just as he intended, but there was a problem: they couldn’t open up a passing lane for the running backs like he thought they would. The play was too rushed, so it wasn’t ever a guarantee.
So Juyeon had to do what he would normally deem crazy.
He spun at the sight of the other team coming to tackle him and skirted around the field, belting down the field. He dodged past another linebacker that tried to body him. His primary motivation was that he didn’t want a concussion before he confessed to you, but he assumed it was okay to admit that to himself as long as he didn’t throw the game.
Juyeon felt a hand grab him but he pushed forward, running across the goal line and into the end zone. He threw the ball down and cried out in joy as he scored a touchdown. The whistle blew and the scoreboard flipped. They won.
He did it.
Juyeon’s team ran to him, cheering at the top of their lungs. He was lifted up on Jaehyun and Younghoon’s shoulders, grinning happily before his heart sunk back down. The cheerleaders ran to the field, cheering and tossing their pom poms up. The crowd was roaring. Juyeon was realizing that he had to do the scariest thing that a heterosexual teenage boy ever had to experience.
“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” Juyeon tapped his shoulder quickly. “We have no time. I have to do it now.”
“Oh shit.”
Jaehyun and Younghoon dropped Juyeon onto the turf. Juyeon winced at the sudden impact, gathering himself back to his feet and hoping you didn’t witness that. Jaehyun gave him a half-assed apology and pushed him forward to run and get his poster and flowers from Minho. Jaehyun then grabbed Changmin by the shoulders, urging him to go to the announcer’s booth.
Juyeon sprinted over to Minho, waving his hands dramatically. “Give, give, give,” he demanded amongst all the cheering.
Minho didn’t waste any time and pushed the poster and bouquet into Juyeon’s hands. “Break a leg, tiger.”
“Trust me, I nearly did.”
Juyeon jogged back onto the field, cheeks hot and head a little dizzy for what was about to come. He didn’t even tell his mom he was going to ask you out and she had to watch her son ask his best friend out to the dance. This was probably going to be a moment of utter humiliation but once Juyeon saw you in your high ponytail with a bright smile on your face, all that fear faded away and it was just you and him.
More importantly, you were wearing his jacket over your uniform and Juyeon felt like he was going to combust from the cuteness.
“Guys, guys,” Jaehyun called to the team. “Surround Juyeon. Make sure Y/N doesn’t see him.”
Juyeon’s heart was beating a hundred miles per second. He was glad he was running on the adrenaline from winning the game because otherwise, he would be cowering in fear and sweating buckets right now.
“Everyone, listen up!” Changmin spoke over the intercom. “First of all, the football team scored a major dub today—ow! Sunwoo, cut it out—alright, I’ll get to it!” Changmin broke from the mic and started bickering with Sunwoo.
There was a pause, and Juyeon was surprised to hear Minho’s voice fill the speakers, “Anyways, my buddy and our star quarterback, Juyeon, has something to say for a special someone.”
The crowd fell silent, a couple cheers and wolf-whistles as it was pretty obvious that a confession was about to happen.
“This is so fucking fluffy,” Sunwoo mumbled.
“Shut up, Sunwoo,” Juyeon replied, nudging him with his elbow.
The football team moved out of the way so that they weren’t huddled around Juyeon anymore. Juyeon’s breath caught in his throat as he walked forward to the middle of the field, holding up his sign, reading: Will you be my sunshine?
“Y/N,” he called out loudly, “honestly this confession is long overdue, but will you go to Winter Ball with me tonight and be my sunshine?”
The crowd started cheering and whistling again, and Juyeon wanted to die. She hadn’t even given him her answer yet and everyone was acting like she had agreed and they eloped. The cheerleaders pushed Y/N forward and she approached Juyeon, looking like a deer in headlights.
Juyeon took another shaky breath and continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long so it would be an honor if I could take you to the dance,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”
You bit your lip but that wasn’t enough to contain the happiness that showed on your face. You zipped up Juyeon’s jacket and threw yourself into his arms. Everyone practically exploded but Juyeon was sure his heartbeat was louder. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.
Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?
“Oh shit!” Changmin screamed over the intercom. (“Shut up, they’re having a moment,” Minho’s faint voice was picked up in the background).
“Oh my god, you just made me the happiest man alive,” he mumbled.
You pulled back and reached forward to move his damp bangs off of his forehead. “Took you long enough.”
“Wait, did you—did you like me?” Juyeon choked out.
You laughed and cupped his face in your hands. There was a shaky inhale and exhale of breaths when his lips brushed against yours, and Juyeon closed the distance, kissing you like he was starved of your touch. His hold tightened on you as you melted into him, and then you both pulled away, smiling and dazed and lovesick.
You giggled. “Does that answer your question?”
“Yes,” he breathed out, grinning as he brushed his nose against yours.
Juyeon could care less about all the presents and holiday cheer because he had you and you were all he wanted.
2K notes · View notes
ptergwen · 3 years
Text
written in the stars
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w/c: 2.7k
warnings: jus (lots of) making out
summary: using your newly acquired knowledge of astrology, you test your compatibility with tom
a/n: i was planning on making this a little blurb for y’all but then i got really into it and here we are lmfhfksjks i promise you don’t have to know anything about astrology or birth charts to enjoy cuz i broke it all down + it’s not the main focus of the fic anyways! this is mostly a day in the life with tommy boy and i hope you like it as much as i do :,) also some of this might be wrong.. i’m not an expert so yeah
•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。
“right, so how does this work again?” tom watches your laptop screen with curious eyes.
you’ve been getting into astrology lately, and whatever you care about, so does he. that’s why you’re currently laid across your bed in sweats while you teach him everything you know. but first, you’ll need to do his birth chart. it’s the pinnacle of everything.
“you just have to tell me what time you were born, then it does the rest for me,” you grin, typing in the name of the website. you’d had to do some research to find a reliable one. “that’s it? you don’t need, like, my birthday or something?” tom quirks an eyebrow at the chart generator.
“i already know your birthday, babes.” you laugh softly and let your head fall onto his shoulder. “you crazy gemini.” “‘m not crazy.” he smiles despite himself, leaning his head on yours. “just got a big personality, innit? charming, clever, lots of energy,” he lists off the characteristics of his sign, which you just taught him. that lights up your whole face.
“definitely not cocky,” you deadpan, tom scrunching his nose in response. “look at you, remembering all that. you really are clever.” “well, it’s interesting.” he drapes an arm around you, fingers running up and down your side. “i quite like the idea of the universe knowing me so well.”
tapping your fingers on the keys, you hum. “you’ll love your birth chart, then. tell me when you were born.” tom grimaces and squeezes at your waist. “i don’t actually know.” “how do you not know?” you flick his back playfully, making him flinch. he pokes you so you’re even. “i’ve never thought to ask. guess i’m not that clever after all.”
those are teasing words, but you press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. he gladly accepts it and gives you one on the side of your neck.
“no, your head’s gigantic. there’s gotta be something up there.” you knock on his skull for emphasis, your hand tangling in his hair. tom lets out a breathy chuckle. “hot air,” he explains as your fingers run through the messy locks. “you’re so...” you don’t even have the words. tom does. “hilarious? witty? amusing?” he tries to finish, tilting his head back to look at you.
“yeah, all of the above,” you confer and bring your hand back down to the keyboard. your lips curve into a smirk when tom whines. he’s the biggest baby, and he makes no attempt to hide it. “why don’t you text your mom and ask for your time of birth?” you suggest, tom pursing his lips in agreement. “sure, i’ll give mum a ring. i bet she loves this stuff, too.”
you roll over to lay on your back, tom still on his stomach. he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens imessage. “ah, nikki’s an astrogirl?” you wonder. tom makes a funny face at the term. “is that what you call yourselves?” “not really. well, not officially.” giggling, you loop your fingers around his wrist. “you can be an astroboy, if you want. or girl.”
tom sighs and leans over so his face hovers above yours. “god, you’re adorable. how are you so cute?” he gently pecks your lips. you’re about to kiss back, then he moves off to your cheek. after that is your forehead, chin, and finally down the bridge of your nose. it leaves you out of breath from laughter and with warm skin.
“i can’t answer that if you’re gonna launch a kiss attack on me-“
tom’s lips capture yours in a proper kiss, which you now get the chance to reciprocate. you hold him in place with your hands on his cheeks. his eyes instantly flutter closed and lashes tickle your face. the feeling draws another giggle out of you, and right into his mouth.
“absolutely gorgeous,” tom mutters against your lips. “anyone ever tell you that?” “you do, tommy. all the time.” your voice comes out gravelly, breathless, a grin painting your face. it transfers to tom. “mm, that’s right. my pretty baby.” he’s beaming down at you. he moves on top of you swiftly, his weight held up by his elbows on your sides.
you pull apart so you can go back in harder, hands situating in his curls again. tom grabs at your hips while the kiss deepens. your legs wrap around his waist clad in joggers and allow your bodies to be even closer together. the less space between you two, the needier you both get. “love,” tom parts his lips for you. “can i get a little more?” “course you can, tommy.” your fingers tug at his curls, mouth opening slightly.
his tongue skims its way across your lower lip, asking for access. you give his hair another pull to grant it. tom lets his tongue slip into your mouth, searching for your own as his hands continue to roam your body. he’s gone from gently peppering you in kisses to fully eating your face. no complaints, though. a quiet whimper escapes you when your tongues clash.
tom starts to push up your t-shirt, eyes opening to meet yours for approval. they’re completely darkened. you nod because you can’t answer with words. your tongue is preoccupied, intertwined with his. he sets his hands on your bare stomach, your nails scratching at tom’s scalp in a way that elicits a low groan.
“feels good?” your words come out muffled, barely audible. tom still understands them. “so good,” he rasps, calloused fingers dragging along your skin. they start to move up your body as you brush your lips against his. the kiss is light, and tom’s lips feel swollen as they move. his hands are nearing your chest, your legs tightening around his waist.
it earns another sinful noise from him. you want to see just how much he’s enjoying himself, so you peek up at him. what a sight that is. his faced twisted up as he focuses on kissing you, strands of hair stuck to his forehead from your playing with it. he’s so beautiful, and deserves to know. before you can tell him, you see his phone light up from the corner of your eye.
“tom,” you mumble his name. he’s too distracted by searching for your bra hook to hear. “tommy?” you’re louder this time, his mouth moving off of yours. “what is it, love?” tom exhales, hot breath hitting your face. “i think your mom texted back.” you offer a smile and run your thumb over his plumped lips. he only squints at you.
“about your time of birth,” you clarify. “for your birth chart.” “oh, that.” he kisses your thumb, nodding to himself. “forgot we were doing that.” tom tends to get a bit carried away with anything you related. making out can go on for hours and down many different paths, but it’s not the only thing. he’s a man in love, and the woman he shares that with gets all his attention at any given time. you’re so lucky to receive it.
you nod back and feel his racing heart as it beats against yours. “if you still want to, yeah.” “i definitely do. wanna hear you say more nice things about me,” tom jokes, a smug grin pulling at his lips. your eyes narrow. “who says they’ll be nice?” you challenge and earn a snicker from him.
“alright, missy. can you hand me my phone please?” he drops his head onto your chest, big brown eyes gazing up at you. “yes, sir.” you pat his cheek and grab his phone from next to you. tom’s contact name for nikki is set as ‘Ma x’, which brings a toothy smile to your face. “here you go.” you dangle his phone above his head. tom takes it from you promptly. “thanks.”
after leaving a couple of kisses on your clothed chest, he rolls to lay next to you. “let’s see, let’s see,” he murmurs, reading his mom’s messages. you scoot closer so you can look. “ooh, lots of crying emojis,” tom remarks. “i think you made her kinda nostalgic.” you pout at the screen. copying your face, he clicks on a picture nikki attached.
“she even pulled out the birth certificate.” he shows you his phone, and you zoom in to see when he was born. “big stuff here,” you say while you read. tom takes the time to get comfortable, resting his chin on your shoulder. “looks like you popped out in the middle of the night,” you conclude, giving him his phone back. he clicks his tongue at you.
“don’t say popped out.” feigning innocence, you glance over at him. “too late.” tom types out a reply thanking his mom before tossing his phone aside. “middle of the night makes sense, though.” he bites the inside of his cheek. “i’ve always been a party animal, haven’t i?” you turn onto your side and put a hand on his chest.
“it’s in your gemini nature. or really, your tom nature.” tom does an over exaggerated wink. “i like the sound of that.” he chuckles when you hit at his chest. “bring the laptop. let’s get this thing going.” you huff as you reach over him to grab it. you’ve switched positions so you’re laying horizontally on your stomach and over his legs, your laptop in front of you.
“if we find out there’s any scorpio in you...” you shutter. “hm? what’s wrong with scorpios?” tom wonders, watching you plug his birth time into the generator. “they’re literally insane, tom. like, serial killer insane. there’s statistics.” your eyes go wide as you hit enter. he leans his head back on his arms with a wince. “never mind, then.”
a small gasp leaves your lips, you squeezing tom’s knee. “it’s done.” “what does it say? share with the audience,” tom requests so you do your thing. you’re eager to get to it, turning the laptop to show him his birth chart. “ok, so.” you point at a box a few places down. “this is your rising sign, which is basically how other people see you.”
tom reads the chart, moving his own finger along the screen. “it says i’m a... taurus. what are those like?” “in one word? boring,” you summarize, tom only frowning. “kidding, kidding.” his frown fades into a small smile at that. “they’re known for being super nice and chill... also stubborn,” you tell him and prop your head in your hand.
“so, that makes no sense. those are complete opposites,” tom comments, slipping out from under you. he settles by your side. “i don’t get how i can be a gemini and a taurus, either.” “weird, right?” you sigh in content as his hand comes to stay on the small of your back. “very strange. do you think it could be wrong?”
“are you questioning the universe’s plan?” you tease, tom drumming his fingers on you. “yes, i am.” “see, you’re stubborn! taurus things.” you scroll down to his moon sign before he can protest. tom sticks out his tongue and tries to lick your cheek, which you stop by putting your hand in his face. “next is your moon sign,” you laugh out, ignoring his boyish behavior.
“that controls your emotions and private thoughts,” you elaborate and look presently surprised when you see what tom’s is. “yours is sagittarius. that’s a cool one.” “is it? how come?” tom sneaks a few kisses down the shell of your ear. “you guys are really open-minded and into things that challenge you.” he nods, signaling for you to go on. you turn onto your back so you’re looking up at him.
“you’re all about your freedom, though. it’s hard to hold you down for too long.” grinning, tom brings his face into your line of vision. “that must mean you’re a real force because i’m not going anywhere.” he nudges your nose with his, lips ghosting over yours. you return the smile and meet him halfway for your lips to connect. “anytime soon,” tom adds on in a whisper, kissing back easily.
this one doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t need to. it’s just one of those kisses that makes you feel each other’s love, no matter how you go about it. they’re essentially your own made up love language.
you’re still smiling when your lips detach, fingers combing through tom’s tussled locks. “now that we’ve done the big three...” you preface. “androids, aliens, and wizards?” tom jokes, you breathing out a laugh. you’d thought he had a soft spot for sam and bucky. your suspicions were correct.
“cute, but no. your sun sign, moon sign, and rising sign,” you explain to him. “sure, sure. what about them?” tom toys with the hem of your shirt while you think. a mischievous glint in your eyes, you suddenly sit up. “since you know yours, and i know mine, how about we test our compatibility?”
tom is well aware of what that means, and he isn’t so sure he’d like to do it. he’s someone who believes in cliches like soulmates and fate, so he’ll take your results seriously. after the lessons on astrology you gave him, especially.
his heart will always hold a special place for you and you only. nothing will change that. but, what if the universe says you can’t be together? where do you go from there?
“um,” tom presses his lips into an uncertain line. you’re already getting your laptop. “i mean, do we want to know? what if we’re not...” you come back over to him with both eyebrows furrowed. “compatible?” “yeah” he hesitates before answering, which tells you he’s nervous.
“it’s just for fun, tommy,” you assure him and press a quick kiss to his lips. “besides, if anyone could defy the odds, it would be us.” tom perks up a bit, sitting up next to you. “you think we’re that strong, huh?” “absolutely. do you?” you’re already sure what he’s going to say. he pulls you into his lap, kissing at your hair and letting it linger. “one hundred percent. i’ll do it.”
you put your laptop in your own lap with a grin. tom’s arms hold you by your middle. “ok, here we go,” you mutter, searching for a good compatibility calculator. it doesn’t take long to find one. “remember, this all a bunch of theories. our love goes beyond what a stupid website tells us, okay?” you remind him, his arms tightening around you.
“okay. i love you,” tom speaks into your hair. “you’re so good at saying exactly what i need to hear. how do you do it?” “i love you too, and that’s a secret i’ll never tell.” you take one of his hands and bring it to your lips. tom’s leg bounces while you plug your three signs and his into the calculator. before hitting the calculate option, you look at him over your shoulder.
“ready?” your finger hovers over the cursor. you know how much these things mean to him, so you want to be positive that he is. “can we do it together?” tom asks shyly, which is highly uncharacteristic of him. “sure, baby. on the count of three.” you wait for him to place his hand over yours. he grips it tight, then you start to count. “one... two... three.”
the two of you click calculate at the same time, your results taking a few seconds to load. “love, i’m so nervous. i can’t look.” tom dips his head down so yours is blocking his view. you lightheartedly roll your eyes. “it’s fine, tom. i’m sure we’ll-“ the screen changes to display your compatibility rating, you cutting yourself off. he slowly creeps out from behind you.
“oh, god. are they in? what’s it say?” tom grabs onto your waist, feeling vibrations from you giggling. you shake your head at the website. “it’s really good... almost a perfect match. told you we’re meant to be.” he joins in your laughter, an endless amount of kisses going down the side of your head. “now, it’s written in the stars. we’re untouchable!”
he’s flipping you over so he lays above you, lips colliding messily with yours for the millionth time today. you don’t mind, though. you could do this a million more. “a power couple,” you continue for him between another peck of his lips. “always have been,” tom corrects and shuts you up again with his mouth on yours.
your hand reaches up for him, but doesn’t make it as the passionate kiss he’s giving you takes your breath away. he locks your fingers together instead, whispering one last thing.
“always will be.”
597 notes · View notes
untaemedqueen · 3 years
Text
Third Wheeling
CEO!Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Chapter 28.
Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love
Warnings In This Chapter: Use Of A Sex Toy, Lactation Kink, Degradation, Daddy Kink, Begging, Sex Over A Desk, Bratty!OC, Dom!Yoongi, Mentions Of The Color System, Sex Against A Window, Exhibitionism, Praise, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie, Insecure!Yoongi
A/N: I’m back from vacation. Here is your weekly dose of Yoongles. Also big ups to my ladies @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna​. Love yall.
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Why do people even get married? If you had it your way you would just get married at City Hall with your parents and best friends. But getting married to a CEO is never that easy. Combine that with your raging hormones, sore back and ankles, and your overbearing, over the top best friend… it's all a bit much to handle. Not to mention now that everyone knows who you are, you have eyes on you at all times.
Although, you know how happy Yoongi is about all of this. You can see how he radiates joy with each step as you walk hand in hand together out in public. That pretty much makes it all worth it.
"I'm allergic to coconut," Yoongi breathes out, pushing the plate of wedding cake in front of him away.
You hum in agreement, leaning back into the plush armchair.
"They're all so good, I don't know what to pick." you say truthfully, looking over the multitude of wedding cake samples that are spread across the exorbitantly large dining room table.
"Well, you have… twenty minutes to figure it out." Leena notifies you from the other end of the room.
"You know, you're like a drill sergeant or something," you murmur.
You can hear Yoongi's gentle snigger when she narrows her eyes at you. "My perfect, amazing, gorgeous best friend is only getting married once. It has to be the event of a lifetime. So strap in and call me General Matrimony."
"Hear, hear." your fiance agrees smothering your cheek with a kiss.
"In my opinion the double chocolate fudge with marshmallow Swiss buttercream is the best." Leena decides, pointing to the cake in the middle of the table.
"Too sweet." you and the CEO reply at the same time.
She sneers at your combined cuteness.
"Are we trying to be disgustingly decadent or classy?" Yoongi quips to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder.
Leaning your temple against him, your cheeks puff out in thought. "Disgustingly classy?"
Leena points at you with her gold pen. "Love that."
The CEO snorts loudly, running the tip of his nose over your temple.
"If we're being disgustingly classy, we should do the chocolate chiffon cake with the light white raspberry filling." you announce, pointing at the cake in front of you.
"That was really good," Yoongi agrees, planting his hand on your protruding stomach.
Leena looks up at you over her clipboard impressed. "If I knew you were gonna turn into some hoity toity queen, Miss Thing -- I would have shoved you at Yoongi a long time ago." she jeers.
You roll your eyes with a laugh before wincing at a kick that's just a bit too tender on the ribs.
"Honggi. Relax, buddy." Yoongi mutters in your direction.
You had decided on a name last night. It honestly didn't take you long at all. You and your fiance are always on the same page.
Honggi is a powerful name and Yoongi's son should have that prowess and power behind him.
Yoongi came to love the simple word almost immediately and even when you were drifting off to sleep, you could hear the CEO murmuring semblances of the name.
When Leena looks over you both, her sharp and intense features begin to soften. "God, you guys are cute. It's fucking disgusting." she whines, sipping her champagne.
Shaking his head with a laugh your soon-to-be husband seems to agree. "I'm not the one who brings the cuteness here." he chirps, running his thumb in loving strokes over your distended skin.
Leena gives you a moment or two to calm down before hardening her gaze and tapping the famed clipboard with her pen. "Floral arrangements, come on folks! We don't have time!"
"Wedding tyrant." Yoongi breathes playfully, earning a snort from you.
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"Good morning, Sir." Shea calls to Yoongi as he gets out of the elevator.
"Hey, Shea. Mornin'." the CEO mutters, running his fingers through his perfectly styled hair.
It was no secret that after the unfortunate incident with his mother, you started to despise Kira. You never said anything of course, you were too kind for that. But Yoongi knew, he always knows. So he did what he thought was best and let her go. He did however give her a gigantic 'keep quiet' sum of money as well as having her sign a NDA. He wasn't about to let the woman that's kept him company many times throughout many years go blabbering at the mouth due to being disgruntled.
"You have two meetings today and then after lunch you have a few contracts to sign." Shea explains.
Yoongi likes that she's strictly business. And more importantly, she doesn't look at him like he's a piece of meat on sale at the butchers.
"Thanks." he breathes, picking up his coffee from the reception desk.
"Oh! And your fiance called!" she beams.
He knows she's a fan of your artwork and just the mention of you has both of them smiling like idiots. Nothing like simping to start off the day.
"Oh? Is she okay?" he inquires, pulling out his phone.
"She said she's bringing you lunch, so don't eat." Shea instructs.
He hums thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I'm pretty lucky. Huh?" he quips, heading towards his office.
The day goes by slower and slower with each passing minute. He equates it to being away from you and his son if he's being honest.
The meetings are all the same. Boring and tedious with glasses of whisky to take the boredom even slightly away.
The old men that seem to run the company beneath him have more to say about the project managers than their own jobs. It's almost baffling.
But when Yoongi gets the solace of being in his exorbitantly large office again on his own, he finds peace there.
Shea wasn't too forthcoming with just how many contracts he has to sign and the stack of them on his desk makes his eye twitch.
"God, when is lunch?" he breathes, turning around in his large chair to look at the sonogram painting of his son you so artfully created.
Digging into his suit pocket, he looks for the trusty gold pen he uses to sign documents -- but he feels something else first. It's small, fitting in his palm and his eyebrows furrow. When he pulls it out, he can't say he isn't confused.
You did pick out his suit this morning, much like you do every morning but he's never had a remote in his pocket before.
Picking up his phone, he's immediately intrigued.
The phone rings loudly in his ear and suddenly he's forgotten all about work.
"Hello?"
"Little dove." his voice sounds confused and playful at best.
He examines the small black remote, having no idea what on Earth it's for.
"Yeah?" you quip back.
"I found a remote in my pocket. Any idea why?" he prods, his eyebrows flickering up expectantly.
The hum of uncertainty you give makes him all the more curious.
"No. Why is there a remote in your pocket? Did you take the garage remote instead of your car key?" you inquire.
It's simply ridiculous but now he's questioning himself. "What? No! Then how would I have gotten to work?"
He presses the 'On' button and flips it over in his hand expectantly.
"Oh God," you whisper softly.
"You okay? Is Honggi kicking a lot?" Yoongi asks, putting down the remote to give you his full attention.
"N-No. I was just surprised. I'm in the car, now on my way over to your office."
Your voice sounds breathless and strange all at once and for the first time… probably ever -- Yoongi doesn't take it sexually. "You better tell Minho to be careful driving, you hear me?"
"Mhm." you gasp softly.
"Well if you didn't put this thing in my pocket, I don't know how it got here then." Yoongi murmurs, pushing more buttons on it curiously.
"Oh my God, Minho drive faster!" you squeak out.
The CEO is completely at odds with what's happening. "You alright?" he inquires curiously.
"I just really need to… pee." you babble.
You sound dazed and lost, even needy all of a sudden.
"I'm sure. Honggi is getting big." your fiance agrees, drawing imperfect shapes on his desk with the tip of his finger.
"I'm here. I'll be right up, Daddy." you whimper, hanging up on him.
He pulls the phone away from his ear, eyebrows completely furrowing. "What's wrong with her?" he bleats.
He's signed a total of three documents by the time you make it upstairs.
Just hearing your sweet voice interacting with Shea in the far distance sends his heart absolutely pounding with excitement. Seeing you sometimes gives him the adrenaline of bungee jumping or cliff diving.
When the doors of his office burst open, he can't help the gummy smile that spreads over his features.
He takes in your attire and suddenly he's confused. You're wearing a stylish black trench coat that flourishes out at the bottom, but he can't see the dress you're wearing beneath it.
"What dress are you wearing that doesn't cover your mid thighs?" he asks, pushing back his desk chair to stand up tall.
Your fingers are shaking and you hurriedly slam the door shut. When you lock the both of you inside his large office, he knows something is weird.
"Y/N?"
Turning around to him with your back flush to the door, he can see how colored your cheeks are. Your lips are parted like your gasping for breath and your eyes are low with lustful intentions.
He finds something in his gut stirring at the sight of you.
"Baby? You okay?" he prods, rounding his desk.
Your fingers fumble with the belt around your belly which keeps the trenchcoat in place.
It's almost amusing how flustered you are.
You don't seem to be in any pain and Yoongi takes this all in as strange.
He leans back against the desk, waiting patiently for you to reply.
"I'm fine!" you assure him, shoving open the coat.
If his eyes could widen any larger, they'd probably pop out of his head.
You stand before him, scantily clad in thin, lace lingerie.
"Baby!" he gawks, rushing towards you to cover you up.
He can't help the way his cock begins to stir below the belt at the sight of you.
"What're you doing?" he hisses, gripping both sides of the trench coat.
You whimper gently, hooking your hand around his neck to pull him down to your height. He allows you to kiss him, he can feel the fervent need coming from your lips. His hands slowly slide from the coat to beneath it, feeling the soft skin of your belly.
"Want you," you gasp, pulling one of his hands between your thighs.
He can feel the vibrations against his fingertips and it all makes sense now. He groans loudly, pulling you back in for a fierce and passionate kiss.
His teeth nibble gently at your bottom lip and in all honesty, he's astounded by your forwardness. It's rare to see you like this but when your hormones are raging and in charge of your brain… who is he to stop you?
"You naughty little dove." he jeers, pulling you towards his desk.
"What's got you so playful today?" he inquires, pushing the multitude of contract folders aside.
He helps you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with a wanton groan.
The clit and g-spot vibrating sex toy you had recently spoken about sits between your sodden pussy lips. Yoongi can see how wet you are through the thin lingerie and it makes his heart beat faster at the sight.
"Just wanted to," you whimper, spreading your legs wider.
Stepping between your limbs, his hands can't seem to separate from your soft skin. Reluctantly, he leaves your belly to tug down the cups of your bra. Your breasts spring out, swaying and dribbling milk languidly.
"You're leaking milk in public, like a little cum slut."
His dominance is overwhelming to your senses and you can only nod fervently in agreement.
"I'm your cum slut. I'm yours." you babble, wrapping your hand around his tie and pulling him towards you.
It's not like this extreme horniness has come from nowhere. In fact, you've been in pain from kicks and punches from your growing son for a week or so now and the one day you don't feel any pain at all -- the most pressing horniness you've ever felt has overcome you.
His lips are soft and warm against yours. They draw you in like a fly to honey and you're enraptured with the man you're in love with.
"I never thought you'd turn up at my office like this, little dove." Yoongi murmurs, pressing soft kisses to the column of your neck.
"I'm so horny, I'm going to pass out!" you complain, reaching for his belt.
He can hear the sheer neediness in your voice and it sends him into overdrive.
"I'll take care of you, baby girl. Don't worry." he assures you, cupping your breasts and gingerly swiping his thumbs across your leaking nipples until you're sobbing with relief.
"D-Daddy!" you whine, unbuckling his belt.
The way your voice peaks makes his eyes immediately rise to the double doors of his office.
"You're gonna have to be a little quieter for me, babe. I'm at work." he murmurs, kissing your lips softly.
You whimper, giving him an understanding nod.
"Good girl," your fiance praises, wrapping his lips around your nipple.
Your hand cups your mouth when you gasp loudly. Shaking like a leaf, your body is quite literally vibrating with sexual need.
He sighs gently against you, adoring you for all you're worth. One hand pinches and rolls your forsaken nipple while the other caresses your stomach.
The vibrating with you seems to only get faster and you're so stimulated that fat tears of pleasure begin to roll down your cheeks.
"Feels good, little dove?" Yoongi coos around your nipple, enmeshing his fingers into the sides of your underwear. In mere seconds it becomes strings in his hands. He groans against your skin gently, tucking your destroyed undergarments into his suit pants pocket.
"S-So good! Fuck," you moan, shoving down his pants.
The sight before you has you licking your lips expectantly. His cock is already throbbing with need and it's a welcome sight.
One thing you can always count on with Yoongi is his complete and utter patience when it comes to pleasing you. His cock could be fucking purple with need and he would still take his time making sure you're satisfied first.
His fingers run over the smooth silicon of the sex toy and he shivers visibly at the vibrations. "How's it feel, baby? You like the new toy?" he inquires, kissing over the valley of your breasts.
You hum in agreement, lifting your hips slightly begging him to touch you.
You can feel your veins coursing with white hot pleasure, it feels like electricity firing through every pore in your body.
When his fingers slide over your opening, he can't help but choke on a moan. "God, your cunt is soaked. Shit." he curses, dipping a finger into your heat.
"You're gaping for my cock, Jesus Christ." he breathes out.
Yoongi knows he probably isn't going to last long. It's been awhile since you've fucked and his hand is nothing compared to being inside of you. Combine that with the new vibrator inside you, it's definitely going to be a tough feat.
"Fuck me over the desk like an animal!" you beg of your soon-to-be husband.
His eyes seem to widen at your forwardness but he can't say he doesn't love it.
"Anything for you, baby girl."
Your whimpers of anticipation have his bottom lip tucking tightly between his teeth.
"How'd I get so lucky to have such a gorgeous woman as my wife? Huh?" he whispers, running his hands over your back and sides.
You don't answer him, only pushing your hips back and wiggling your ass to show just how needy you are.
"I'm coming baby, relax." he promises, palming both globes of your ass in hand.
Your breathing is shallow and your mind is swimming as you wait for him. The vibrations against your most sensitive parts feel so amazing, so raw but it's not enough -- you want his consent to cum. You need it.
Yoongi picks up the small remote, testing the speeds and he realizes which you like more depending on your breathing and small moans. He's toying with you right now, enjoying the obscene amounts of arousal dripping down your soft, fleshy thighs.
His eyes are focused on your cunt, watching from behind as it twitches and spasms around the small device inside of you.
"Daddy, please!" you whine, lifting your head to look back at him.
When you do look back, you see his cock flat on his palm. He pumps it in hand a few times, cursing gently at the sight before him.
"Aren't you just a pretty little pregnant whore for me?" he quips, running his hand from your back to cup your stomach.
The weight of your belly in his hand has him almost in a frenzy then. Pressing the weeping head of his cock to your entrance, his lips press into a thin, hard line when he feels the vibrating sensations flow through him.
"Oh fuck," he hisses softly, letting his eyes flutter shut.
"Yes!" you breathe out, pushing back to welcome him into your swollen cunt.
He groans then, welcoming your warm heat around him inch by inch.
"Feels so fucking good, baby girl. Jesus." he moans, taking a moment  for you to adjust to his size.
Grabbing the remote once more, he turns it onto the fastest speed and the gasps you collectively emit seem to sound like they're all around you.
He's forgotten he's at work, he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing because the most important thing right now is you -- and your swollen, greedy sex is all he needs.
With the pleasurable vibrations added, all Yoongi wants to do is fuck you so hard that you'll both cum and be pleased in minutes. But he's never been the type to leave a sexual experience so early.
Folding over, his chest presses to your back and his fingers intertwine with yours.
His lips feel like heaven against your warm, flushed skin. He suckles small marks against the side of your throat, coloring you as his own.
His thrusts are hard and filling but slow. He'd give anything to hear skin slapping against skin right now but then he's reminded that he's at work.
Your hands grip harder onto the edge of the desk as you rut back against him.
"Your cock is so big," you whine, closing your eyes to become enraptured in the whole experience.
"Yeah? You like my big cock in this pregnant cunt?"
You nod fervently, trying to bite back the loud moans that threaten to tear past your lips. It's all too much and suddenly your orgasm is approaching like a rapid waterfall.
"Don't you dare," your fiance threatens, lifting himself up and gripping the back of your neck.
"Please Daddy. Need to cum," you beg, feeling your body quake with the ever pressing need of relief.
"Oh no, I don't think so. You show up to my office, you wait until I say you can cum."
You whine in defiance, pushing your hips back against him harder and he's surprised at your brattiness.
"Don't you dare cum." he warns you.
Your eyebrows furrow with need and you couldn't care about the punishment you're going to recieve. You're honestly not sure what's come over you, you've never defied him before but right now it's getting you more excited to not listen to him.
Pushing past the control of his orgasms, you lose yourself on his cock. Your high is filled with galactic stars behind your eyelids and white noise filled ears.
"You brat," he gasps, pulling out of you.
It's a smug grin the spreads over your face now before your cringing at the overstimulation of the sex toy. He takes pity on you in that regard, shutting the toy off and pulling it out of you. Tossing it onto his desk, he points his finger in your direction. "You're in trouble." he breathes out, jerking his hard cock in hand.
Now that you've arrived back down to Earth, you're worried. You've never defied him before and you've never seen his wrath.
"You just woke up a brat today, didn't you?" he seethes, helping you stand back upright.
You pout, shaking your head quickly in hopes that he won't be too strict on you. His narrowed eyes chill you to the bone.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I just couldn't help cumming. I was so horny. I'm sorry," you apologize profusely, running your hands over his clothed chest.
He hums unimpressed, combing his fingers through his hair.
"If only people knew what a cumwhore I have on my hands." he murmurs through his teeth.
You frown up at him, begging him to forgive you with puppy dog-like eyes.
"No. You don't get away with being a brat that easily," he deadpans.
Nodding to the large floor to ceiling windows, he taps his foot incessantly.
"Go stand by the window." he orders.
You look down at your naked body before looking back up at him in confusion.
"Wh-"
"What's your color?" he cuts you off, running his hand over your belly.
"G-Green," you chirp out, looking at the window.
"Then go stand up against the window." he instructs, beginning to stroke his cock once more.
"Why?" you inquire curiously, doing as told.
"So people can see what a cumwhore I have on my hands," he whispers into your ear. The heat of his breath has something unfurling inside of you once more.
Bracing your hands against the window, you turn back to look at him just in time to see him situating the vibrator between his fingers.
The quiet thrumming of the sex toy makes your breath hitch with anticipation.
"Spread your legs," your fiance commands, pressing his chest flush to your back.
You're so high up you're almost certain no one could see you but excitement still courses through you.
His hands wrap around you like strong chains and you hum in appreciation.
"I love you," you remind him, turning and kissing his cheek.
He softens at your words, kissing over your shoulder with his plush lips. "I love you too, brat." he murmurs.
His words make you snort gently but it's quickly cut off by a loud gasp. He presses his hand to your swollen clit and the smug grin he gives you sends a chill through your spine.
Your forehead presses to the chilly glass of the window and you mewl as his legs knock yours open farther.
His cock slides between your sodden folds a few times before entering back inside of you.
"Oh my God," you whine, backing your hips up to him.
"Pretty little thing," he praises, kissing over your neck. "What do you think, little dove? You think people can see me fucking your pregnant cunt from all the way down there?"
His thrusts become rougher and harder, cursing all the while.
The vibrations that ricochet through you are once again pushing you towards the edge at a surprisingly rapid pace.
"Don't even," he seethes, feeling how your cunt trembles around him.
His grunts and the sweet whispers of your name enrapture your ears.
The sight that greets Yoongi's eyes could make him almost blow his load in that very second.
"Your milk is leaking onto the glass, oh fuck." he whimpers, fucking into you harder and faster.
"Gonna cum!" you cry to him, scratching your nails against the window.
He doesn't even respond, chasing his own high as your cunt threatens to milk him for all he's worth.
"Oh little dove!" he gasps.
His thrusts become sloppier and his breath hitches at the prospect of cumming inside of you.
"Yoongi, please!" you beg, spreading your legs wider.
"You think you deserve it?" he quips, running his hand over your belly bump.
"Yes," you whimper, pushing back against him with each thrust.
"Cum." he commands, pressing his forehead into the junction between your neck and should.
He holds you up easily as you orgasm around him. You become a blubbering mess, crying out his name softly like a prayer.
"God, I love you." he seethes through his teeth.
His teeth clench down on his bottom lip as he cums, trying to quiet his final moans.
You both stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company.
"Are you upset with me?" Yoong inquires, pulling out of you slowly.
Your eyebrows furrow at his worried tone. "Huh? Not at all, why?"
"You never act bratty or defy me… Did I do something wrong?"
You've spoken about this before actually. Yoongi is prideful when it comes to your sub slash dom relationship. He beams with satisfaction knowing that he keeps you so pleased you don't act out of character. For you to have been just the slightest bit bratty, it probably shook up his confidence.
"No, it's just my hormones I think, I wanted to be a little sassy," you explain, sitting down on his lap when he beckons you.
He hums unsurely, hooking his chin over your shoulder. "I'm a good dom to you when we have sex, right?" he asks, kissing your temple.
"Always. You always make me feel safe and dominated," you promise, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He breathes a sigh of relief, looking down at the sex toy tossed casual aside on his desk. "Felt good," he murmurs, running his hands over your sides.
You give him a large smile, nodding in agreement. He can't help but snort at your joyful expression.
"Well regardless of your bratty hormones, I'm happy you came to distract me from my work." your fiance murmurs, pulling the cups of your bra back up.
"You're always happy to be distracted from work." you quip, combing your fingers through his hair.
He nods thoughtfully, letting his fingertips graze over your outer thigh. "Very true." he beams, kissing your shoulder.
When your skin begins to raise with goosebumps, he's quick to cover you with the trenchcoat you discarded a while ago in your sudden heat of passion.
It's your stomach that rumbles first with the need for food and sustenance before he acts accordingly also.
"Oh yeah, where's the lunch you promised me?" the CEO inquires, tying the belt of your coat back in place.
"I gave it to you." you reply with a wide smile.
He looks over at the window before shaking his head with a laugh. "Alright, that's it. Get your pretty butt to the car, I'm taking us home for lunch."
Just talking about food in general has you jumping up with excitement. "Are you coming back to work after?" you prod, watching as he pulls up his boxers and suit pants.
"Nah, I'll just take the contracts home with me now so I don't have to come back. Besides, I didn't correct your errant behavior like I wanted too." he whispers, pecking your lips softly.
Leaning back on the desk, your head begins to tilt. "Well, you should get all your punishment in before six. Leena is coming over to discuss place settings for the wedding."
He groans gently, fixing his suit jacket until it looks seemingly pristine. "Why are you best friends with a tyrant? Remind me again?"
Your giggle echoes through the large office and he adores the sound, it courses through him like new life.
Scooping up the contract folders, he looks over to the window before smiling to himself. "Y'know I'm never cleaning my window again, right?" he quips, watching as you pull open the doors to his office.
"That's disgusting," you quip back, holding out your engagement hand so he can hold it.
Kissing the top of your head, he laughs. "Yeah, I am."
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onceupon · 3 years
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London Boy - Part 4: Just friends
summary: You wake up to find Rafe Cameron in your bed. Even though nothing happened, you’re still left trying to make sense of it all.
pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)
warnings: swearing, drinking
word count: 5k
a/n: thank you so much to all of you who have been reading along <333 sorry in advance if you want this to progress faster haha, it simply must be this slow, sorry I don't make the rules (even tho I do lol). Not canon Rafe!! 
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Your eyes slowly flutter open as the early morning rays wake you up. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. As you slowly gain consciousness you’re startled by the weight of Rafe’s arm draped across your body. What the hell? When did that happen? He spent the night in your bed?
Your mind races at a million miles an hour as you slowly slip out from under his hold. You were careful not to wake him up, not wanting to face any awkwardness. You throw on fresh clothes and grab your backpack, desperate to make your escape. You had wanted to get to school early today to work on some homework anyways, never before so eager to trade in the comfort of your bed for the library. 
After a quick pit stop to pick up a coffee and a croissant, you swing the heavy wooden doors open. You liked campus at this hour, the morning light still soft, the air crisp, and the atmosphere silent. As you scan your eyes for a spot to sit, you notice the unmistakable sight of fluffy brown hair hunched over a table. 
“Liam?” your whisper. “What the hell are doing here?”
That classic cheeky grin spreads across his face as he looks up to find you standing in front of him. “I go here, Y/n. Forget already?”
You roll your eyes, “I just didn’t know you were the studious type.”
“Not gonna lie to you babe, I’m not. But Rogers is already all the way up my ass over this class, and I’m not letting that prick hold me back a year.” 
You pull out the chair across from him and go to sit down, spreading your books out on the table. 
“Who said you could sit with?” he asks, and you shoot him a look. You’re not in the mood. “Geez alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed… you good Y/n?” he slows, taking in your disheveled appearance. You hadn’t so much as brushed your hair. 
“Can you promise not to tell anyone,” you stare dead into his eyes. 
“On my life,” he extends his pinky, and you accept. 
“Rafe… slept over last night…”
“Oh shit!” he exclaims, and your eyes widen at his echoing voice. 
“Not like that,” you hiss, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the two of you. “Nothing happened… like he just came over to watch a show and then we talked for a while and just accidentally… fell asleep. I panicked when I woke up and realized he was still in my bed so I ran out of there as fast as I could and now…. well now I’m here.” You nervously chug your coffee, heart racing. 
“So he hung out with you all night and didn’t make a move?”
You nod, nervously awaiting his analysis as you take a bite of your croissant. 
“Damn, boy must really like you,” he muses. 
“What? Definitely not,” you scoff. 
“Y/n, let me tell you a little something about guys. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. The fact that he’s coming over your room to watch a show and hanging out with you until he physically can’t stay awake - I mean I can’t make it any more obvious to you.”
“I don’t know I just don’t think so… You don’t know Rafe like that, he’s a total player back home. He can pull any girl he wants, so if he liked me like that he would’ve done something by now. This is probably how he is with all his friends and I’m just reading too much into it. I’m sure Lily Colts will be in his bed soon enough,” you mumble. That last part stings in particular, you had already thought it, but saying it out loud made you feel… icky. 
“I may not know Rafe like that, but I know guys like him. I am guys like him. He likes you Y/n. So what if he pulls a lot of chicks, he doesn’t actually care about them. But he cares about you, probably can’t even understand why, and now it’s like bam Uno reverse. He can’t pull the cards he normally does, and now you’ve got him confused and he doesn’t know what to do. Man’s down bad. Give him time though, he’ll come around,” he explains to you calmly, stealing your coffee cup from you and taking a sip. 
“Honestly can I just start paying you to figure my life out for me. You make everything seem so simple.”
“Because it is simple. You insist on complicating it. But I know how you could pay me,” he adds with a wink and you shoot him a glare. You know he’s just joking (partially), he loves pushing your buttons. 
“Well whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it,” you resign on the Rafe matter. You wanted to believe what Liam was saying but it didn’t quite make sense to you. You were only going to drive yourself crazy trying to read between lines that you weren’t sure existed. Rafe was just used to situations like this with girls. To him last night was probably no big deal. It was to you though. You would never let ‘just a friend’ stay over like that, with his arm around you no less. But Rafe didn’t need to know that, you decide. 
—-
You manage to avoid Rafe all day, not having any classes with him on Friday’s. As soon as your last class is over, you sprint home, relieved when you’re the first back at the flat and can quickly slip into your room undetected. You set down your bag and sit on the edge of your bed. Your hand slowly runs over your comforter, still ruffled from where Rafe had been laying the night before. The indent of his head is still on your pillow; you can almost smell the scent of him lingering in your room and hear the sound of his soft whispers. You wonder what his first thoughts were when he woke up in your bed alone - was he confused? Embarrassed? He probably thought nothing of it at all. You can just picture him casually getting up with a stretch, like it’s the start of any typical day.
You slip into the shower and let the water wash over your body. It’s warm and soothing, and it’s reminding you of Rafe laying next to you, of his arm wrapped around you. God if there was only a way to shut your brain off once in a while. As much as you tried to suppress it, there had been a tiny part of you that was happy to have woken up in his embrace, giddy like a school girl with a crush. You’d always wondered how a moment like that would feel, or how a moment like that with him would feel. You had conveniently failed to mention the “arm” detail to Liam, maybe because in the back of your mind you knew it would only help prove his theory right.  
When you make your way back to your room, your phone buzzes and the Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 group chat appears. 
Olivia: who wants to go out tonight 😈
Topper: me and Rafe have to be up early tmrw for soccer - rain check on this one ladies 
Olivia: :( 
Olivia: girls night out??
Millie: you know I’m there!
You’re a little bummed that Rafe won’t be there tonight. But a girls night sounds like just what you need to get him off your mind. 
Y/n: I’m in :)
Not even a few minutes later Olivia and Millie are barging into your room, causing you to let out a startled yelp. 
“My god, heard of knocking,” you exhale with your hand coming to your chest. Your statement falls on death ears. 
“Which jeans with this top,” Olivia asks, holding the clothing items against her body. 
“Should I curl or straighten my hair with this,” Millie follows, holding her outfit up. 
“Uhh,” your mind scrambles, “those jeans Liv. And straight, Mills,” you reply, shocked by your own decidedness. “But now you guys have to help me, I have no clue what to wear.”
“Say less,” Olivia flashes a smile. 
Within minutes they tear through your closet, picking out your outfit. Things were always much more clear with a fresh set of eyes. The three of you discuss the night’s logistics before making your way to the kitchen - couldn’t go drinking on an empty stomach. Rafe and Topper are already there, and you try your best to act natural even though your stomach ties itself in a knot the moment you catch a glimpse of his face. You haven’t seen him since you ran out this morning. 
“Uh hey I’m gonna run to Sainsbury’s real quick, I wanna get a chaser, anyone need anything,” you ask, avoiding eye contact with Rafe. Your nerves get the best of you and in terms of fight or flight, you were ready to flee. 
“Hey wait I’ll come with you. Gotta pick something up for dinner,” Rafe stands grabbing his jacket, and before you can interject, he’s leading the way down the hall and out your shared flat. 
“So what are you chasing tonight?” 
“What?” you ask startled, his question pulling you back to reality. Your mind had been running in a loop, trying to read him and the thoughts in his head. You wished now more than ever that you knew what Rafe was like behind closed doors back home, so you could somehow make sense of it all.
He chuckles at you, lost in your own world. “You said you needed a chaser?” Those intimidating blue eyes have found their way to yours again and you hastily look away, focusing in front of you instead. 
“Oh yeah- uh just for the vodka,” you laugh nervously. 
“Basic,” he mocks. You scoff in surprise and lightly hit him on the chest as the laughter leaves your lips. He’s sporting a shit-eating grin, having successfully egged you on. 
“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna do shots of whiskey before going to a club.”
“Well you do owe me one…” he says.
“Oh so he remembers?” you reply, amused.
“Of course,” he states so calm and so sure. Your head swirls at that, his cool confidence making you melt. The automatic doors slide open in front of you, fluorescent lights stealing your attention from the boy you were finding dangerously more attractive by the second.
“I thought we’re supposed to take it together? But someone’s being lame and not coming out tonight,” you say sarcastically, playing it as cool as you can manage. Rafe’s confidence seemed to come naturally, but you were more of a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of gal.
“Hey you know I have soccer,” he defends. The Kook Prince was not one to turn down a party without cause.
“Excuses excuses,” you shake your head.
“Actually, speaking of soccer, you uh- you and the girls should come tomorrow. If you’re not doing anything. Or not too hungover I should say. Game’s at 12.”
“Can’t make any promises Cameron, but we’ll see,” you smile, earning a satisfied smile from him in return. 
You make your way to the frozen food aisle, Rafe explaining to you how they call a soccer field a football pitch here, as you laugh at him grabbing 5 frozen pizzas (dinner solved for the next week, of course). You ask him which chaser you should pick. He points out a cola, so naturally you decide to get blackberry seltzer water, Rafe twisting his face in disgust (who would voluntarily drink that tv static). You always felt so nervous at first, to be in Rafe’s presence, but all it ever took was a few minutes for you to completely relax around him. He was intimidating, yet inviting. Mysterious, yet open. He was somehow the cause of your anxious nerves and yet the source of your comfort. The fear of facing Rafe after running out this morning had paralyzed your thoughts all day, and now you could hardly remember why. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, as if nothing happened. His normalcy confirmed for you that him sleeping over was in fact no big deal, and you almost want to laugh at yourself for how much you had worked it up in your head. You two were just friends, and perhaps Rafe was used to being… a friendlier friend than what you were used to. But that was okay, you could learn to be friendlier too.
—-
Rafe and Topper had decided to accompany you guys in the kitchen as you pregamed. They slowly sipped beers as you, Millie, and Olivia pounded back shots, laughing at the way you guys got progressively drunker and progressively louder before finally heading out. And much to your surprise, the boys were still seated in the same spot hours later, when the three of you stumble back into the flat, McDonalds in hand.
“Oh look who’s still up,” Olivia slurs, taking a bite of her cheeseburger. 
“We can’t go out, we have soccer,” Millie mocks, almost falling to the floor as she trips over her heel, Topper and Rafe not making any effort to hide their clear amusement. 
“Fun night huh?” Topper quirks his brow. 
“The funnest,” Millie holds her head high, sinking down against the wall until she’s sat on the floor. You had made a beeline for the dining room table, silently admiring your chicken nuggets. In that moment, they were the best thing you had ever tasted. 
“I want Jake,” Olivia pouts, and before anyone can say a word she’s turned on her heel, burger in hand, off to crawl into her boyfriend’s bed. 
“Alright you drunk, let’s get you to bed,” Topper laughs, scooping an incoherent Millie up to her feet by her elbows. 
“M’not drunk,” Millie protests, even though she’s leaning her full body weight against Topper who sarcastically nods at her, escorting her down the hallway. Rafe sits on the couch, silently playing with the cards in his hand again, not the least bit uncomfortable with sharing your company in silence. 
“I’m mad at you,” you say matter of factly, taking a bite of a french fry. At this point, the alcohol is doing the talking. 
“Mad at me?” Rafe stops shuffling the cards and raises his head to look at you, intrigued. 
“Yeah because you didn’t come to the club,” you furrow your brows, chucking a fry at him. He catches it instantly, laughing to himself with a shake of his head. 
“Don’t worry I saw all your guys’ snaps, I feel like I was practically there.”
“That’s not the same,” you frown, throwing another fry which he catches yet again.
“I’ll try to be there next time,” he laughs.
“That’s better I guess,” you grumble, eating another chicken nugget. The room grows quiet, Rafe training his attention back to the cards.
“When are we watching the next episode Cameron,” you break the silence, chucking another fry. He barely has to look up to catch your latest throw, shaking his head with a chuckle. He puts the cards down and makes his way over to the dining table, standing right above you now. 
“Come on, time for you to go to bed,” he beckons you toward him with his arm, to which you only furrow your brows in indignation.
“I’m not done with my food,” you protest.
“Now you are,” he says, grabbing your last fry and finishing it with one bite. “Now c’mon.” You reluctantly grab onto his extended arm to help you get up. You walk down the hall together and he opens your door for you, letting you in as he leans against the frame. You immediately fall back and collapse on to your bed with a gasp, you didn’t remember it feeling so soft when you were sober. 
“Goodnight L/n,” Rafe laughs, staring down at you. 
“Goodnight Rafe,” you mumble, seconds away from passing out. He smiles to himself at the sight of you still in the outfit and shoes you had been out in, bent in surely the most uncomfortable position possible, legs half way off the bed, yet somehow already asleep. He’s about to head back to his room, but he hesitates, turning back to you with a sigh. As slowly and quietly as he can, he pulls your shoes off for you, lifts your legs onto the bed, and covers you in your blanket. And just as quick, he slips out of your room and back into his.
—-
You wake up the next morning, letting out a groan when you realize you’re still in the outfit you had worn clubbing. Your head dully aches and your throat is desert dry so you force yourself up and to the kitchen. When you see the aftermath of McDonald’s containers on the table, vague memories start flooding your brain in horror. You couldn’t have… could you? Did you actually throw french fries at him? You close your eyes and slowly run your hand over your face in realization. Great, you think to yourself, Rafe probably thinks you’re an annoying idiot. Good grief.
You hear the door of the flat opening and Olivia appears in the kitchen, holding a plate of breakfast sandwiches, your mouth watering at the sight.
“Thank the lovely lads in apartment 4E,” she laughs, placing them on the table. “Oh god, we went hard last night didn’t we,” she says, taking in the sight of the flat.
“A little too hard…” you remark.
“No such thing, darling! Now eat up and get dressed, we’ve got a match to catch,” she declares before disappearing down the hall where you can hear muffled groans of Millie being reluctantly dragged out of her bed. You sigh and sink down into a chair, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite. Heaven. You make a mental note to thank Jake for his chef skills. You had completely forgotten that you and the girls were supposed to go watch Rafe and Topper’s match today. Your worries about having to face Rafe yesterday had been quick to melt away, but today they were back with a new vengeance.
—-
“Okay no one wander off when we get there. Y/n, fair warning, these games get… rowdy,” Millie says, as the three of you walk toward the field, arms linked.
“Things get pretty crazy at Kildare too,” you laugh, “so yeah, don’t fucking let me out of your sight.”
The three of you shake off your fits of laughter as you stumble toward the stands, finding a spot amongst the already packed crowd. You’re finally able to take in your surroundings, glancing at the field ahead. The opposing team is warming up on the pitch, clad in red. Westheath’s team is off to the side, the boys stretching and getting ready in their white uniforms. The dirty blonde immediately catches your eye. He’s jumping and jogging in place, headphones in as though he’s tuning out the physical noise around him, and probably the mental noise too. You wonder if he’s listening to one of the songs he showed you the other night. 
He pauses his jogging to stretch out his arms, his eyes glazing over the stands, when suddenly they lock with yours. Your cheeks flush pink, embarrassed at having been caught staring, but his face just pulls into a wide grin and he gives you a wave. You wave back, and he does a quick hand motion that everyone does at Kildare games back home. You laugh and do the responding gesture, as he smiles cheekily at you before a teammate comes up to him, pulling his focus away. The exchange was brief, but oddly intimate. There was a whole field and a couple dozen people between you, and yet you two were the only witnesses to the interaction. You smile to yourself, relief in the fact that maybe getting a french fry chucked at him wasn’t enough to make him hate you after all. You wonder briefly if Rafe spends half as much time overanalyzing things the way you do. Liam was right, you do insist on overcomplicating things. 
“Hey, earth to Y/n!” Olivia laughs, waving her hand in front of your face. “The game is starting!”
The final score flashes on the screen: 4-2, a win for Westheath. The students are going nuts, rushing the field. Olivia and Millie lead the way, pushing through the crowd until you guys reach Rafe and Topper.
“Let’s go boys!!” Olivia yells, jumping up and down with the sea of bodies and beer around you. Rafe and Topper react with equal enthusiasm, pulling each of you in for a hug. You and Rafe are the last to hug, him pulling you in brief but close against his large sweaty body, arms wrapped around you. You don’t even mind the stickiness of the hug, feeling deja vu at the warm feeling of being in his embrace again; a feeling that is foreign yet familiar, one you hadn’t felt before. 
“Did you guys see Rafe’s goal in the second half!?” Topper asks, clapping his friend on the back.
“Of course we did, super star!” Millie cheers, giving Rafe a high five as he humbly shakes his head and laughs at his friends. The mental image of his goal was burned in your head, one that your mind would certainly play for you involuntarily over the next coming days. 
“Alright we gotta go do some stuff with the team, but everyone’s going to Central Bar later. See you guys there?” Rafe asks.
“You got it,” Olivia replies, and they jog off with quick waves, you meeting those blue eyes in silent acknowledgement once again. It was that gaze that always made the rest of the world seem to disappear while his eyes met yours, making your heart skip a beat. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Just a tall, attractive, soccer-playing friend…
“Y/n! Liv! We’re doing a round!” Jake calls you and Olivia over to where him and Liam are already at the bar, four shot glasses ordered and lined up.
“On three! One, two-“ Liam chants, as the four of you down the alcohol. Central Bar had been buzzing with what felt like half of Westheath’s student body all day. After the game, you and the girls had gone back to your flat to nap and eat, before meeting up with Jake, Liam, and the rest of their boys to head to the bar. Rafe and Topper were already pretty buzzed when you guys got there, playing a round of table tennis with you before the rest of the soccer team and their other friends pulled their attention away. You couldn’t help the way your whole body tensed when Rafe greeted Lily with a tight hug, humbling you with the confirmation that Rafe’s actions toward you weren’t anything special. You resolved yourself to a night of drinking and dancing your worries away with Liv and Liam instead.
“Alright, round of table tennis? You two against me and Y/n?” Liam challenges.
“Please, I saw Y/n playing before, you guys have nothing on us,” Olivia flashes an evil smile, her competitive side coming out.
“Oh it’s on Liv,” you laugh, as your foursome stakes your claim at the pong table. While Olivia and Jake gather the balls and paddles, you notice Liam grimacing off into the distance. You follow his line of sight, landing on Topper and Millie drunkenly dancing together across the bar, a bit too close for comfort.
“What is she doing with that geezer,” he mumbles.
“Liam! Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” you gasp in mock disbelief.
“I’m not jealous,” he scoffs, and you quickly realize that he actually is, even though you had just been joking. Your jaw falls slack as you put two and two together. Liam and Millie were always by each other’s side, at school, at the pub, when you were all watching a movie at his apartment a few nights ago. He would tease her relentlessly and his own words rang in your ears If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. 
“Shut up! Shut up!,” you whisper yell, hand coming to your mouth. “I should have realized this whole time… of course you like Millie! Everything you’ve been telling me you think exists between me and Rafe has actually been about her! She’s your Uno reverse card!” You’re shocking even yourself at these revelations.
“No no no, you can’t use my own words of wisdom against me, that’s not how this works Y/n. So what, maybe I slightly give a shit about Millie? Who cares. Her and I both know that’s never gonna happen. I still stand by everything I said about you and Rafe so don’t think your getting off so easy on that.”
“Then tell me why you’re staring at Millie while Rafe hasn’t so much as glanced my way since the minute Lily Colts got here, hmm?”
“Oh Y/n, Y/n Y/n Y/n,” Liam tuts, shaking his head laughing as he turns to the game your group of four is about to begin. You don’t have the energy to argue with Liam over the matter right now, oblivious to the fact that Rafe had indeed been glancing your way, several times. In fact, he was glancing at you right now, as Liam reached his arm over yours to help you actually hold the paddle the right way. You just hadn’t been glancing back to notice, scared of what you may or may not see between him and Lily if you did. 
The night dies down and it’s time for the pilgrimage back to your building. You’re walking with Millie when Liam quickly falls in step with you two. You give him a knowing smirk, to which he responds with a glare behind Millie’s back, but you let the two banter as you fall behind, now walking alone. You stare ahead, eyes mindlessly settling on Lily walking in between Callum and Henry at the front of the pack. You don’t notice the pair of legs that begin moving in pace next to your own. 
“Tonight, by the way,” Rafe’s voice startles you as you jump next to him. He chuckles at the confusion written all over your face. “You asked last night when we’re watching the next episode. And my answer is tonight, L/n,” he states.
“Haven’t you been up since like the crack of dawn? Aren’t you tired?” you ask incredulously.
“Too tired for Game of Thrones? Never,” he scoffs, Liam’s words ringing in your ear. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.
“Well then tonight it is,” you smile. “Sorry about the french fries last night by the way,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk in front of you, cheeks burning.
“Seriously L/n, talk about a horrible throw. Room for improvement,” he jokes with a comforting smile, saving you from yourself.
“Good game by the way,” you add, grateful for the way he was letting you off. 
“Thanks,” he looks at you, shoving his hands in his pocket. You turn to look at him too, and after a few moments laughter is taking you both apart. Nothing funny was said. Neither of you knew why you were laughing. And yet it felt natural, not an ounce of awkwardness in the air.
As your whole group walks into the building, people begin to peel off, splitting towards staircases and off elevator stops. 
“I’m fucking beat,” yawns Topper, as you and all your flatmates file into your hall. 
“I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight,” Millie yawns in agreement. One by one everyone files off into their rooms. You open your door, backing into yours, Rafe across the hall from you backing into his. Laughter tugs at both your faces once again, as you let your doors close. You manage to change into your sweats and brush your teeth before you hear the light rap on your door. Rafe enters, in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants, your weakness. But you feel comfortable being alone with him now. The Rafe jitters had finally began to subside. 
“Alright L/n, episode 4, you ready for this?” he asks, plopping down in his spot next to you. 
“Oh I’m very ready,” you reply, sitting up to reach for your laptop which was resting by your feet. As you lean back, you find yourself in Rafe’s arm. He had extended it out before you sat back, effortlessly catching you against him. His hand rests casually on your arm, and you gulp, pressing play. You pray he can’t feel the way your heartbeat quickens and your body flushes. So much for those jitters being gone. 
The episode plays, you and Rafe making comments here and there before your chatter eventually dies down, leaving just the sound of the show to fill the room. You can feel Rafe’s body lean further and further down, becoming heavier and breathing slower. You very slowly turn to check, and sure enough he’s fast asleep. You sigh, and shut your laptop, careful not to stir him. You could easily shake him awake, tell him to go to his bed, but for some reason you don’t. You don’t mind him here. In fact, you almost prefer it, his body heat keeping you warm. He had already slept over once before and it clearly hadn’t been a big deal, so what was the harm in letting it happen again? You’re just friends after all, you remind yourself, not sure who you’re trying to convince. And so, the two friends fall asleep in the same bed again. 
---
🏷: @hopebaker​ @pogueslandia​ @mardema​
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nsheetee · 3 years
Text
For Life (109 Steps to You Epilogue)
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read “109 Steps to You” here!
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Genre: epilogue, angst, fluff, soulmate AU Length: 5.4k Summary: Donghyuck and Y/N meet again one year after their last encounter, back at the place where it all started.
a/n: this is for everyone who asked for a part 2, I hope you all enjoy ♡
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this is the epilogue for “109 Steps to You,” please read that fic before continuing!
Haechan walks into the cafe, the scent of espresso hitting him square in the face. He doesn’t have to walk far into the shop to find his two best friends sitting at one of the tables. Silence falls over the table once Haechan orders a drink and the waitress walks away. The three men sit mutely for a bit, looking at their phones or outside the big windows at the people walking by outside, until Haechan draws their attention.
“Huang Renjun, you invited me here and you won’t even say hi when I sit down.” At his ice breaker, Renjun lets out a shy laugh and turns in his seat to pay attention to his friend.
“Hi.” He says.
“Hi.” Haechan says back sarcastically.
“Hi.” Jaemin pipes up from across the table.
Somehow, conversation became a lot easier after that.
Haechan never thought it would be awkward with his longtime friends, especially since it has been only a year since the three of them graduated college and moved on. Jaemin works as an elementary school music teacher (just an assistant, for now) and he shows the guys some pictures of his students, commenting about how so many of them have natural talent. Renjun decided to do the graduate program and stayed on campus.
“What about you, Haechan, what have you been up to?” Jaemin asks and takes a sip of his iced americano.
“Oh… Nothing special. I work at SM Entertainment.” The guys’ eyes widen at the “not so special” news and Renjun almost chokes on his bagel.
“As an artist?” Renjun coughs out.
“No, god no, I write music for them, and they liked me enough to let me produce songs in the future, so they have me a full time job.” Haechan explains.
“Dude, that’s insane. Congrats, that’s what you always wanted to do, right?” Jaemin asks, still looking a bit amazed by his friend’s accomplishments.
“Yeah.. I guess.” Haechan trails off, laughing afterwards and praying someone will have something to say to get the attention off of him.
“Actually, there’s a reason I wanted to meet you guys here…” Renjun sits up straighter, making Haechan and Jaemin glance at each other. “I’m going to marry Mya.”
“Renjun…” Jaemin turns soft, his eyes turning rounder and his bottom lip pouting at the news, making Renjun roll his eyes and laugh. His joy is just at the thought of marrying his soulmate, the one he has spent the past five years with.
Haechan has to swallow down the lump in his throat to congratulate his friend, ruffling his blonde hair and saying something about how he can’t believe Renjun is the first to get married out of the three of them. When Haechan was with you, they were all sure that he would be the one to get married first. Oh, how easily things can change.
“I was hoping you guys would help me? I want to ask her under the bell tower, the same place I asked her to be my girlfriend, but I want to do it at night. I need help setting things up.”
“Of course we’ll help, right, Haechan?” Jaemin asks, looking over at his other friend. Haechan knew that by coming to this small reunion, he would have to face a part of his past, but he decided to come anyway. The past year has been tough, but Renjun has been Haechan’s friend for longer than he can remember, so this is the least he could do.
“Of course,” He nods. “Anything for Renjunie.” He adds a pat on the head with the pet name and Renjun slaps his hand away, giving him a scowl. The two guys would have continued with their play fighting if it wasn’t for Jaemin suddenly standing up, his chair skidding back along the tile floor loudly.
Haechan and Renjun glance up at him, but his eyes are glued to the entrance of the cafe. They turn around just in time to catch a girl stopping in her steps, her eyes focused on Jaemin. It’s been years; her hair is longer than before and she definitely grew up since the last time they saw her, but it’s no doubt Yeji, Jaemin’s soulmate and the one who rejected him when they were teenagers in high school.
“Jaemin.” She clears her throat, looking at the three guys, “You’re all here. Why am I not surprised your friendship lasted this long?” She laughs lightly as she recognizes the group of friends.
“Do you want to sit?” Jaemin points at the fourth chair at their table that has yet to be occupied. Yeji nods slowly and makes her way to the seat, gently sitting down and smiling shyly at the three guys. There’s a silence that falls over the table as everyone sips on their drinks, but the world around them continues on living loudly.
“So, what have you been up to recently?” Jaemin asks and turns to face her.
“Oh, I’m finishing college this year. I go to UOS.” She proudly smiles.
“Oh? We all went there too, we never saw you?” Renjun asks.
“I took a leap year, so I started college after you guys. You probably didn’t see me around because of that.”
“What did you do during your leap year?” Haechan asks, leaning back in his seat.
“I was in the hospital.” When three pairs of wide, serious eyes stare back at her, she laughs and waves her hand at them, “Oh no, it wasn’t anything bad. I found out my immune system is weak and spent some time figuring out what medicine to take and making my body stronger so I don’t get sick easily. That’s why I was gone for part our last year of school, too.” She explains and the three guys unstiffen and nod.
“Is that why you rejected me?” With Jaemin’s sudden question, Renjun and Haechan felt like they shouldn’t be sitting at the table anymore. They glance at each other, both wondering the same thing: should we leave?
“No,” She looks over at her soulmate, and then glances at Renjun and Haechan, “I guess I should explain myself now, huh?”
“Please.” Since Yeji rejected Jaemin, he turned into a different person. His affectionate and compassionate side is still present, but he tended to keep a calm and neutral front during most of his time in college that made some people think he’s a mean and scary person. Haechan and Renjun are very curious as to why Yeji dumped Jaemin all of a sudden, for the sake of their friend, and stay seated to hear what Yeji has to say..
“I only have one mark.” She explains. Jaemin looks at her a bit dumbfounded.
“What do you mean? Where’s the other one?” He asks and glances over her as if trying to find her other mark. Yeji laughs a bit at the question.
“I mean, I was only born with one. I will only have one mark my whole life.”
“There are people like that? What does it mean?” Renjun asks, stirring the melting ice in his drink with his straw.
“It means that your soulmate is also the person who will hurt you the most in life.” Yeji’s sharp eyes glance over to Jaemin, “That’s why I rejected you so quickly. I’m sorry if I caused you pain. I was just young and only thinking about myself.” She explains.
“No, I understand. I think I would’ve done the same thing.” Jaemin nods, and the two of them fix their eyes down and away from each other, Jaemin now knowing the reason for their separation makes him think about the decisions he made over the past few years.
Haechan, however, starts thinking about you. His palms get clammy and his heart beats faster, his mind running through the years and years of memories he has of you.
Where is your second mark?
Has it just been so long that Haechan doesn’t remember anymore, or did he never see it in the first place? Could it be… that you’re like Yeji? One mark, destined to be hurt the most by the person who’s supposed to love you the most. Haechan feels sick. It can’t be.
“It’s rare, right? For people to be born with one mark?” Haechan asks Yeji, and she purses her lips.
“Not really, no. Most people just don’t admit it out loud, since it’s not the norm to only have one mark. If you think about it, the people you love have the most power to hurt you. It’s not that uncommon.” She shrugs, and the table settles into another silence as the three guys think about her words.
Haechan refuses to believe it. You told him everything, you trusted him to the very end. You would’ve told him if you only had one mark, right? On the other hand, Haechan cannot remember ever seeing a second mark on your body— ever.
He begins to feel pain, for you and for what you must’ve gone through while you were with Haechan if this is true. He also begins to feel fear. Fear that his actions in the past are the end-all, be-all to your relationship. Haechan always had hope that you two might be able to work out your problems in the future, until now.
Haechan really hopes he’s wrong. He really hopes there’s a chance, a small sliver of promise of a future left for the two of you.
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“Oh, hey, you got here quick.” You say as you open the door, Mya stepping in through the threshold and into your home. “I’m sorry we had to change plans so quickly. It’s just Mirae got a fever and wouldn’t stop crying…” You trail off as you lead your friend into the kitchen.
“It’s alright, I understand.” Mya smiles, watching you pull two mugs out of your cabinet and pour hot water, the savory aroma of coffee immediately filling the room. Mya takes a good look at you; you have some hair falling out of your ponytail around your face, there’s some sort of stain on your sweater, and you can’t stop playing with the diamond ring on your left hand; you look just like any new mom would.
“So, what’s going on? You don’t usually call me up like this out of nowhere…” You ask once you sit down, mugs on the table between you and your old friend. During your college days, you guys got to be pretty close, but after you graduated it became harder to get in touch due to your busy lives.
“Well, you remember Renjun, right?” Mya begins, nervously sipping on her coffee. You pretend to not notice how her hands shake.
“Of course,” You smile at the memory of Mya and Renjun, “Are you guys doing good?” At the question, Mya sets down her mug and stares into the creamer that swirls through the coffee, her shoulders sagging and eyes dull.
“I think… he’s going to propose to me.” You freeze, your heart suddenly beginning to hammer in your chest. Not because you’re excited by the news, but because your friend looks miserable.
“Why does the look on your face say that’s a bad thing?” Your heart begins to break when Mya lifts her head to show the tears surfacing to the edge of her eyes. You reach your hand over the table to capture Mya’s, trying to comfort her in any way.
“You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge.” You nudge her to open up. After a moment, she takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand.
“I don’t think I’m Renjun’s soulmate. I think… I’m the opposite.” She admits, biting into her bottom lip. “I think I fell out of love. Soulmates can’t do that, right?” When you shake your head, she sighs and continues, “I think it happened a while ago actually, but I was too afraid to say anything because I still care about him, like a friend. We share a mark, so it could mean I’m the one who’s meant to hurt him the most, but, this is going to sound insane…” She lets some tears fall down her cheeks as she talks, and you can only grip her hand tighter to encourage her to speak.
“I don’t want to. I think I’m supposed to hurt him, but I don’t want to— not at all. How does any of this make sense?” The tears start to fall as she thinks more and more about the situation, why did fate have to be so unfair to her?
You always thought about how unfair it is that there’s going to be a person who hurts you and gets to walk away from the situation without a care. When it comes to Mya and your own story of how you got hurt, you realize hurt is a two way street sometimes. It’s not always malicious and spiteful, hurt can be just as much of a shared emotion as love.
“Hey, everything happens for a reason. Even if it hurts, it’s supposed to hurt for a reason. Or else, why would fate exist in the first place?” You’re not sure if these are the most comforting words you can give Mya at the moment, but she finds some comfort in your logic and nods her head.
“I should go talk to him, shouldn’t I?” When you nod your head, Mya sighs. She dreads having this conversation, even thinking about it makes her scared of how Renjun will react.
“When you have your thoughts in order, go to him and tell him how you feel. No matter what kind of relationship fate assigns you, it doesn’t take away all the time you spent together. It’ll be okay.”
Mya has a lot on her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your door, denying your request of walking her home or calling a cab. As she slides her shoes on, the bedroom door opens and closes quietly. Mya smiles at the man who walks up to you, some bags under his eyes and his light brown hair tousled, not surprising Mya the slightest.
“Is she okay?” You ask as he comes forward, worry lacing your words. The man nods and lovingly pats your head, telling you not to worry before turning to Mya.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t come out earlier to say hi, Mirae was sleeping on me and I didn’t want to wake her up.” He explains while his arm comes around your shoulders and he tiredly sets his chin against your head.
“It’s okay, Xiaojun, I’m the one who intruded. You guys should focus on Mirae, and maybe get some sleep.” Mya manages to smile as she glances at her phone, a message from Renjun reading “Where are you? Come home, I miss you” making her nerves from earlier arise.
“We’ll try,” You comment, “And hey, call me anytime. I’ll always be here for you.” Mya nods, sending a wave and walking out of the front door to walk the long way home. When the door closes, Xiaojun sighs and moves his head to your shoulder, snaking his other arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.
“Y/N… I’m so tired.” He whines, laughing through his words a bit. It sends chills down your spine when his lips brush against your bare skin and his breath tickles your neck. You tug on his shirt, pulling him closer and resting your head against him.
“That’s what happens when a baby is sick.” You sigh, and Xiaojun can already guess the question that’s about to leave your lips. “You don’t regret this, do you?”
Around the same time that Donghyuck left you, Xiaojun found his soulmate. She came into Xiaojun’s life as quickly as she left it, something about backpacking through Central America. Not sharing the same goals and dreams as his soulmate, it left Xiaojun heart broken and lost without the person who’s supposed to be his home.
He needed someone and you needed someone, too. And then it turned from needing the other’s presence to understanding each other in a different way than friends do, and then you realized… You’re in love.
When he decided to love Mirae as if she’s his own, that’s when you knew Xiaojun is the right choice for you. However, that didn’t stop you from wondering if Xiaojun ever regrets his decision.
“You ask that question all the time,” He leans back, his gentle hands cupping your jaw as you make eye contact, “You know I’ll always answer the same way. I never regret picking you.”
Xiaojun waits for the anxiety to leave your eyes before giving you a smile, brushing his thumb over your soft cheek. He wonders how he hasn’t fallen in love with you sooner, you being his childhood friend and all. He knows it’s probably because he has always been waiting for his soulmate and it blinded him from seeing the one he truly loves: you.
When he feels you fully relax into him, he leans in and softly presses his lips to yours. You melt into him instantly, letting him hold onto you as his lips move slowly against yours. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and you hear Xiaojun whine when your nails scratch on his back over his shirt.
You pull away before anything else can happen, and Xiaojun stares back at you with a pout that makes you giggle a bit.
“Maybe we really should go to sleep?” You ask, and Xiaojun nods. He takes one more look at you, that look full of adoration that always makes your heart jump and your face heat up no matter what, and then he leads you to your bedroom for, hopefully, a restful night of sleep.
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The next time you hear from Mya, it’s when you’re walking home from work one evening.
Your phone rings loudly and kills whatever train of thought you were on, pulling you to your electronic device and pressing the answer button.
“Hey, hun, what’s up?” You hum into the phone, stepping over cracks in the sidewalk.
“I think it’s today. I think Renjun is going to propose to me today.” Her words make you stop in your tracks, making some people around you throw a glare at the sudden obstacle in the middle of the sidewalk.
“What? What happened?” You ask.
“He just called me and told me to go to campus, to the bell tower. I just know he’s going to propose.” You can hear the panicky tone rising in Mya’s voice and you feel her anxiety all the way through the phone.
“Didn’t you talk to him about it?” You try to make sense of the situation.
“I was going to when I planned out what I needed to say, but I’m not ready yet. Oh, my god, I can’t go see him. I can’t.” You can practically hear her shaking her head by the sound of her wavering voice. “Please, Y/N, help me. I don’t know what to do.”
“Mya, it’ll be okay. I’ll meet you in the front of the campus and we’ll go in together, okay?” You turn around abruptly, already planning the quickest way to get to the university in your head.
“Wait, what? I just said I can’t go there.”
“Think about it, if you don’t show up then Renjun will know something is wrong and bring it up first. If you do show up, then you can say what you need to first before anything else happens.” You explain as you weave through people on the sidewalk going home. “I don’t think you should drag this out any longer.”
“... Okay, okay, I’ll meet you there.” After saying goodbyes, you end the phone call and send a text to Xiaojun telling him you’ll be late tonight and saying you’ll explain later. You put your phone into your bag and quickly make your way to campus, playing with the ring on your finger out of worry for Mya.
When you arrive, Mya is already at the front gates, pacing back and forth as college students pass by and send her glances. You walk up to her, scooping her arm into yours and looping them together, calmly walking onto campus and towards the bell tower. You clutch your bag closer to your side, thinking about the one place you want to visit before leaving tonight.
“Have you thought about what you’ll say?” You ask quietly, but your voice still startles Mya and she jumps a bit in your hold.
“I can’t even think straight right now, I have no idea.” She grips your arm tighter.
“I believe in you. One way or another, you and Renjun are connected somehow. I think you already know what you have to say.” You ponder out loud.
“How?”
“Because it’s your fate, even if it’s a bad one. Some things in life are hard, but that’s why we can say we live.” Mya doesn’t look any more  relaxed at your words, and you don’t blame her.
After walking for some time, you reach the bell tower. You can already see a figure of someone standing underneath it. The sun is setting behind the clock, and when you walk closer, you can see balloons and some candles lighting up the dimming area. Right before you reach the tower, you stop and let go of Mya’s arm. Giving her one last look of reassurance, you gently push her to Renjun.
You don’t hear exactly what happens next, since you’re standing too far away. But if you had to guess, Renjun noticed Mya and greeted her with the flowers he was holding. For a split second, you felt deja vu. Back when you were just a college student, you saw this exact same scene through a video— same people and same proposal.
There was a point when Renjun’s face changed that you know Mya broke the news. He looked confused and agitated, but most of all hurt. True pain breaks over his face, you can even see it from where you’re standing. You’ve never seen someone hurt by the one who is fated to bring them pain until now. Renjun looks like he could crumble into the asphalt and roll away with the wind, and it would still hurt less than standing there, hearing the words of betrayal from the one he thought was his soulmate.
You sympathize with him. It’s almost like you can feel that same feeling, like muscle memory in your heart forcing you to remember what it feels like to be hurt that way.
When Mya turns and walks away, you see the pain on her face too. When she passes you, she moves quicker than you and you aren’t able to stop her, only watching her walk towards the entrance of the campus.
You turn to look at Renjun, your heart seizing in surprise when you see two other familiar faces: Jaemin and Donghyuck.
He looks like he hasn’t changed one bit, but at the same time he isn’t who you remember. His hair is still that golden shade of brown, falling over his ears and down the back of his neck. His clothes look the same, his posture is still a bit hunched as always, but his eyes and his gaze look different as he stares back at you.
You aren’t sure why you’re still standing there, you don’t have anything to say to your three old college friends, so you politely nod at them and turn around, walking further into campus. You walk next to the buildings you used to know so well, your feet guiding you to the place your heart wants to go to the most.
You pull out your phone and start calling Mya. Once, twice, and after the third time, you send a text asking her to pick up the phone. There are so many places she could’ve gone, and you could probably catch up to her if you turn around and run, but your feet don’t listen to your brain and carry you to the place you’ve been yearning to see again since the second you stepped into campus.
The staircase looks the same as it did 5 years ago. You have changed, so has Donghyuck, but this staircase remains stagnant in time. The trees on the left side still sway over the stairs peacefully and the cracks in the stone wall on the right seem to not have changed either. You immediately feel comfort upon seeing this steep set of stairs, slowly starting to walk up while putting your phone into your bag.
One, two, three, four, the fifth step a little longer, then repeat.
When you reach the top, the air feels slightly cooler and you close your eyes for a moment. Not for too long, though, because you hear your name being called from the bottom of the staircase.
Donghyuck manages to catch your attention with his loud voice, his figure looking small. You stand in your spots for a bit longer, the sun setting behind the trees and the wind nipping at your nose. Until, suddenly, Donghyuck starts climbing the stairs.
One, two, three, four, every fifth stride a little longer, one hundred and nine times until he’s on the step right before yours, glancing at you through his hopeful eyes.
“I knew you would be here.” He’s slightly out of breath, but the cheekiness in his voice is still evident.
“I knew you would find me.” You say back, making him smile a bit, “But, I’m not sure what for. If it’s about what Mya did to Renjun, I don’t think that’s my place to explain.”
“No, there’s something I’m curious about. Actually, there’s so many things I want to know about you, but I have a feeling you won’t tell me everything I want to hear.” He bites his chapped lip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized jacket. “Will you let me ask you a question?” The look on your face tells him to go on.
“Do you only have one mark?”
You cock an eyebrow, “It took you this long to figure out?”
He laughs, not out of humor but out of disbelief, and looks at his shoes. “I can’t believe it. All this time…” he mumbles and kicks the step he’s standing on. When he lifts his head to look at you, you’re surprised by the tears lining his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” Your heart still hurts to see him in pain, even after everything, your soulmate connection is still strong.
“For hurting you. You knew what would happen all along, you knew how we would end up, but you still stayed with me. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t do anything to save us.” He sniffs, one tear falling down his eye. He tries to wipe it away quickly, but you still see it. Something in you pulls you towards him, something telling you to comfort him, but you hold back.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past now.” You bite your lip in thought as he nods, “Where did you find out about single-marked people?”
“I ran into an old classmate. When she explained it, I realized it sounded just like what happened to us—”
“What you did to me.” You quickly correct him, making the pain on his face fade away and a cold look present itself on his features.
“Hey, I know you understand why I did what I did.” He rebuttals.
“Just because I understand doesn’t mean I’ll forgive and forget.” You taunt back, feeling anger and irritation rise. You decide now is the time to walk away, talking the first step down the stairs where Donghyuck is standing. He stops you with a strong grasp on your left wrist, turning you to him and looking you straight in the eye.
“One more question. Whose ring is this?” He holds up your left hand to his face, eyeing the diamond that shines as he tilts your hand back and forth. His thumb rolls over the dragonfly that paints your hand, his identical mark peeking out of his sleeve and touching yours as he examines the ring.
“Xiaojun gave it to me.” Donghyuck flinches at the name, looking between you and your hand.
“Xiaojun…” He repeats, the name feeling heavy on his tongue, “Good. He’s a good guy.” You can tell how hard it is for him to get those words out of his mouth, as if he’s saying the words out loud to convince himself rather than just commenting. You gently try to take your hand away, but Donghyuck grips onto it more, dropping your hands down between you two.
“Wait, one more question.”
You sigh restlessly, “You said that about the last question.”
“No, seriously, this is the last one.” You pause for a moment to compose yourself before nodding slowly, signaling him to go ahead and ask.
“Will you ever be able to do it? To forgive me, and to forget what I did?” His voice holds so much hope you’re almost afraid of talking, since you know your words will break whatever last piece of expectation he has left. You gently take his hand, stepping closer to him to slide it into his jacket pocket. You wipe some pollen off of his shoulder, looking him in the eyes afterwards.
“One day, when we’ve found our place in this world and the pain we gave each other is just a distant memory, I will forgive you. But I’ll never be able to forget how you left me when I needed you most. In this world where love is chosen for you, I turned my back on fate and I chose love. It’ll never be the same as when I was with you, but that’s not what I need. I need someone who will love me— someone who will stay when things go good or bad. Someone who will stay for life.” You explain, “And actually, I’ll start forgiving you now.”
You dig into your bag, finding your wallet and producing a photo from one of the slots that’s supposed to be for a card.
“This is Mirae. I can already tell she’s going to have your eyes and your hair when she grows older,” You can’t help but smile, watching Donghyuck’s every emotion as they move through his face. Surprise, fondness, instant love. “We’re always going to be tied together from now on. Not because of this,” You point to the dragonfly that’s imprinted on his hand, “But because of her.” You point to the picture that he’s gripping tightly.
Donghyuck looks at the photo for what seems like hours. The little girl in the photo is laughing at someone behind the camera, holding a rubber duck in her small hands. She's a perfect mixture between you and Donghyuck, and you’re right, she does have his eyes.
Donghyuck has never felt this much regret in his whole life.
“I have to go,” You say, pulling out your phone when you hear it buzz in your bag to see Mya calling you, “But don’t be a stranger. I never changed my phone number.” And with that, you walk down the stairs. When you get to the bottom, Donghyuck watches you turn and wave to him before disappearing behind the stone wall.
He grips the picture in his hand, not able to look away from his daughter who stares back at him with the same eyes. The sunset has ended and Donghyuck eventually makes the slow walk back down the stairs to find Renjun and Jaemin.
He keeps looking at the picture the entire walk back, thinking about the choices he made when he was younger. He realized he cared a lot about what his marks made him; the sunflower on his knee made him a stranger to his father, and the dragonfly on his left hand made him a stranger to his daughter.
Even though he thought he took the cautionary steps, in the end, he ended up exactly the way he never wanted to be— like his dad
The marks on bodies help guide people to their fate, but there is more to life than fate. Sometimes, you have to take destiny by the reigns and pull it your way. And with this picture— with this new chance to begin again, Donghyuck will do just that.
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bubblesuga · 3 years
Text
Mahina || Part 1
Summary: Jungkook couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something drawing him to you. Like the moon tugs at the tides, he needed to be beside you. genre: smut, fluff, angst word count: 4,626 tags: idol!au, fantasy!au
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When Jungkook awoke this morning, something was... different.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the air in his room seemed to have shifted slightly. He felt lighter on his feet, a sudden bounce to his step while he pulled himself off of the bed and towards the bathroom.
He brushes his teeth as usual, carefully scrubbing his tongue and admiring his reflection in the mirror. The eyebrow piercing was a good edition, he thinks. It accentuates his high brow and sparkles underneath even the dimmest light. Spritzing himself with cologne, he opens the bathroom door just in time.
"Jungkook, I made breakfast! Hurry up!"
Smiling to himself, he trots down the stairs of the far too large penthouse he and his band mates bought a couple years ago. He doesn't mind sharing with 6 other people, though. Having grown up with no siblings, he enjoys the dynamics at play when he speaks to the members. They're all his brothers, co-workers, family... He couldn't have asked for a better turn out when it came to finding a career path.
Yoongi is standing in the kitchen when Jungkook walks in, the smell of pork and kimchi filling his nose. Thanking his hyung, he grabs a bowl and starts filling up.
"You seem happy this morning," Yoongi raises an eyebrow, "what's going on?"
"I don't know," Jungkook shrugs, "I just woke up in a really good mood. I feel like--" he takes a bit of his food, then speaks with his mouth full, "--something amazing is going to happen today."
"We just have rehearsals?" Yoongi's statement comes off as more of a question.
"Exactly." Jungkook says, continuing to munch on his food. Yoongi looks at the younger man and shakes his head, continuing to fry meat for the rest of the members.
"Hey, did Namjoon come home last night?" Seokjin asks as he walks into the kitchen. He takes a spot beside Jungkook on the counter, reaching into his bowl and grabbing a piece of pork belly. Jungkook attempts to push his hand away but Seokjin smacks it and grabs the meat anyway.
Yoongi shakes his head again, "Nah. He stayed at the studio last night, said something about a last minute inspiration."
Jungkook has noticed Namjoon's lack of attentiveness recently. It seems as though his head is always filled with potential themes and lyrics and beats, much more so than even in the early days of the band. He's curious about his inspiration as of late but Namjoon doesn't seem to want to give away his methods any time soon.
"He's been doing that a lot lately." Jungkook thinks outloud.
"More power to him," Seokjin says, "man works his ass off and it benefits all of us."
Yeah, it definitely does.
~*~*~
"5, 6, 7-"
Hoseok's counting is cut off by the music blasting again. It's the third run through of the new choreography, Jungkook is center and carefully watches the rest of his hyungs in the mirror. He moves to the left, following Hoseok's lead and smiling as he notices a mis-step on Jimin's part. Jimin throws his head back and yells, lifting his shirt up and wiping some of the sweat that's accumulated on his brow.
"It's okay, Jiminie," Hoseok sings, "this shit is hard."
Seokjin nods in agreement, "Yeah, what the hell happened to a laid back choreography for this come back?"
"It's the last one of the year. We gotta go out with a bang." Jungkook turns back to look at Namjoon, who chugs water in the corner of the room. "Speaking of big come backs, are you working on your mixtape?"
Namjoon laughs, "Nah, definitely not. I'm trying to get a couple more songs for the album."
"Don't we have like 14 tracks?" Taehyung speaks for the first time since rehearsal started.
"16 is better than 14." Namjoon smiles, listening to Hoseok as he calls everyone over again.
"One more time. 5, 6-"
It's then that the doors burst open and Hyun enters in. "And this is the rehearsal room containing the 7 men you will be photographing."
Jungkook's eyes travel to the person his manager is talking to, and he has to hold back a gasp. He feels the way his jaw drops, but he's unable to close his mouth while he looks at you. God, you're gorgeous. Your hair cascades down your back and your clothes cling to your body in all the right ways. Jungkook struggles to tear his eyes away, but once he sees your smile he realizes there's no way he can turn away. You're literally glowing, with god-like shining eyes. Who are you?
"Boys, this is _____. She's in charge of photography and will be around to film Bangtan Bombs, behind the scenes, or anything you all want filmed and made into content."
Jungkook repeats your name in his head five times. He whispers it to himself once while everyone else heads to you to shake your hand. Jungkook stands back, finally blinking his eyes.
You step forward after having shook the hands of everyone else, "And you're Jungkook," you smile again, "I like your tattoos. Glad you're finally willing to show them."
"T- tattoos..." Jungkook mutters pathetically as he takes your outstretched hand. You giggle, shaking his hand enthusiastically.
"Well, anyway. It was nice to meet you all. I'm excited to work closely with every one of you." your words are met with a chorus of 'same!' from everyone except for Jungkook.
Hyun puts a hand on your shoulder and leads you out of the room, continuing on the tour of the HYBE building. Jungkook stares after you, the doorway now long empty but he couldn't look away. You were, by far, the most beautiful woman he has ever come across. With your simple torn jeans and black t-shirt, he feels you could pull off anything you put on your body.
It's not until Yoongi speaks does Jungkook finally tear his eyes away, "Could you have been any creepier?"
"What?"
Jimin bursts into laughter, his frustration with the choreography long gone, "You were-" he takes a deep breath in between laughter, "you were staring at her like she was the last woman on the planet!"
"W- what?" Jungkook stammers.
Jimin doesn't respond, only laughing louder as he falls to the ground. Jungkook can see the hidden smirks of the rest of the members, turning his to look at everyone, "What the fuck just happened?"
"Love at first sight?" Taehyung suggests.
"More like love at first drool." Seokjin begins laughing before he even finishes his sentence, causing the rest of the members to groan at his joke.
Jungkook doesn't react to Seokjin though, as he turns to look back at the empty doorway. If love at first sight is a real thing, Jungkook just experienced it to the fullest extent.
~*~*~
Jungkook manages to continue the rest of rehearsal without a problem, except for the way his mind kept traveling back to you. Saying your name in his head again, he washes up in the gym showers. He thinks back to the way your skin seemed to be literally glowing to him, and your bright white teeth hypnotizing him.
Never in his life has he had such a short conversation with someone that had such an impact. He wants to learn everything about you, your passions, the music you like, the books you read. He hopes that you enjoy some of the same things he does, so he has an excuse to talk to you.
Though his interest in you is certainly piqued, he has to keep in mind that you are, essentially, his employee, and fantasizing about your employee is more than inappropriate.
Fantasizing might not be the right word, but he can't help and imagine conversations between the two of you. Your voice is so pretty, it's light but carries through the room. You make sure your presence is known, though with the way you shine you didn't have to try hard. He smiles to himself, closing his eyes and rinsing off the conditioner from hair. Then, he wonders what your hair looks like when it's wet.
Okay, Jungkook. That's enough.
He shakes the water off his head and wraps a towel around his body. Exiting the shower, he realizes he forgot his bag in the dance room and sighs. Checking the time on his phone, he realizes that it's after 9 pm. The odds of anyone other than the members being here is pretty slim so he can just walk his way to the rehearsal room and change in there, right?
Right.
Tightening the towel around his waist, he walks out of the gym bathroom and strolls down the hall. He scrolls through his phone while he walks, rounding the corner and hearing your voice.
"Thank you, Mr. Lee. I'm very excited to properly start tomorrow."
"We're excited to have you," Jungkook peeks his head around the corner and watches Hyun bow to you, "your work is incredible and I know Taehyung in particular loves your shooting style."
What? Taehyung knows her? Jungkook must have missed that earlier when he couldn't stop staring at you.
"Yeah! It still blows my mind that one of the bangtan boys followed my work," you let out a small, somewhat embarrassed giggle, "thank god for Instagram."
You and Hyun share a laugh, followed by a goodbye. Jungkook gasps as he sees you turn in his direction, rushing to a small doorway and pushing himself up against the wall. You can't see him like this, not already. He's nearly naked and he knows this towel isn't big enough to cover himself as well as he should in front of a stranger, so he holds his breath as your foot steps become closer... and closer... and-
"Hey Jungkook."
Fuck.
Jungkook exhales a breath and moves to tighten the towel around his waist even more. You're eyes are not scanning his body like he thought you would be. Of course, Jungkook knows that sounds cocky of him to say but he can't help but assume that that would be the outcome of this situation. Either way, his face still burns when your eyes meet his. Those gorgeous, glowing eyes.
"Were ya hiding?" you laugh, tilting your head to the side, and Jungkook realizes that he's still pressed up against the wall.
"I- I, uh-" come on Jungkook, get it together, "Sorry. I didn't want you to see me naked."
"Oh please. When humans are naked, they're at their purest forms. It's natural, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." you smile brightly, moving a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
Jungkook raises an eyebrow. Your phrasing is odd, but he doesn't question it. Instead, he swallows, "You're right, but I'm sure you wouldn't have been okay with my dick just hangin' out. Neither would the security watching the cameras."
You laugh, a proper laugh that doesn't seem to be masked by something else, and Jungkook realizes it's melodic. A fine tune singing into his ears as one of the most beautiful songs he has ever heard. It's soft, breathy, and makes him want to make you laugh for the rest of eternity.
"Either way," you say after a moment, the hint of humor still in your voice, "nothing to be ashamed of. I'll see you tomorrow, Jungkook."
Jungkook tilts his head, watching you wave and waving back as you carry your feet towards the elevators.
~*~*~
The air was even lighter this morning, and Jungkook can't help but think you play a part in his bright mood.
Following the conversation yesterday, Jungkook walked with a grin on his face to grab his clothes. You're incredibly charismatic, an stark difference to Jungkook's usual shy and laid back personality. Despite your conversations together being minimal, Jungkook feels you and him are going to be close.
Jungkook hops out of bed and styles his hair carefully. Checking his phone as he brushes his teeth, he's received a text from Taehyung apologizing because he had already left. The house sounds still, he remembers Yoongi and Seokjin opted at staying at their respective apartments tonight, wanting to be a little closer to home. Namjoon probably stayed at the studio again and Jimin and Hoseok more than likely left with Taehyung. He shrugs, making a quick protein shake and grabbing a banana before heading out of the door.
As he drives to work, he makes note at how much more productive the members have been these days. Not that they never were, but the usual slump of exhaustion that follows months of continuous promotions, rehearsals, and recording doesn't seem to be hitting anyone this time around. Surely, the explanation is the high everyone is riding from the success of Butter and Permission To dance in the west. It's motivated everyone, including Jungkook himself.
He pulls into the parking garage, rides the elevator up to the 13th floor, and steps off only to be stopped by Hoseok.
"Jungkookie!" Hoseok wraps his arms around Jungkook's neck and squeezes him tight.
"Hoseokie!" Jungkook mocks, giving a pat to the older one's back. Hoseok pulls away with a chuckle, "I guess _____ is doing behind the scene shoots today. Something about wanting to catch us in our element."
"Oh? Like individual shoots?"
"Yeah," he smiles, "she's with Yoongi in his studio right now. She told me to tell everyone to choose a thing they do on a daily basis that might be interesting to see for ARMY."
"Should I work out?" Jungkook smirks. Hoseok rolls his eyes, patting Jungkook's pecs,
"You work out enough." Smiling, he begin walking towards the commons area,
"I'm almost to where I want to be." "Whatever Jungkook, you bully us enough already." Hoseok pats Jungkook's head and walks away, leaving Jungkook to sit on the couches for a moment.
He picks up his phone and scrolls through Weverse and Twitter for a moment. Despite not being as active as people wish he could be, he does keep up with what everyone is talking about. Currently he sees excitement about their online concert from last year coming to DVD, and "JUNGKOOK'S ABS" is trending.
Yeah, he's definitely going to work out for his behind the scenes.
Holding his phone up, he snaps a quick selfie and posts it to Twitter. Once a month seems to be a good formula.
"Jungkook?" Yoongi's voice enters the room, "She's gonna shoot with Namjoon then you."
"Ah," Jungkook stands, "time to get nice and sweaty for ARMY."
"You're such a freak." Yoongi laughs, watching Jungkook leave the room.
Jungkook begins on the treadmill, listening to music and trying not to think about the fact that you're going to be photographing him while he's working out. He feels somewhat dumb, being so incredibly invested in your opinions of him already, but like yesterday proved, there was something about you that drew him in.
He speeds up the treadmill, his calves burning and his breathing quickening while he runs. It's incredible, the feeling of absolute bliss he feels after a run. When his muscles ache and his chest feels clear, he feels most at peace. Though, peace isn't difficult to come across these days. Even with the sadness of not being able to perform live like he wants to, it's not as looming as it was before. It's incredibly exhilarating to wake up not feeling like the end is near. It happened so suddenly, he's not sure what changed.
At the beginning, when they had to cancel the tour and stay in Korea, Jungkook felt as though life was never going to be the same. It was dark for everyone. He remembers Jimin crying in the bathroom after the cancellation, which caused Jungkook to start crying as well. He scrolled through social media for hours, reading the anger and frustration at those who had to return their tickets. It pained him, to see such a bleak view of the fans he adored.
Now that it's been close to 2 years, Jungkook has learned to-- for lack of a better term-- live with it. He wakes up every day and tries his hardest to live, and that's all you can do when your passion in life is ripped away from you due to an ongoing worldwide pandemic.
The gym doors slide open and Jungkook looks in the mirror to see you.
You have a camera around your neck, Jungkook recognizes it as a Canon. You close the door behind you and stop him as Jungkook starts to slow down the treadmill.
"Pretend like I'm not even here." you nearly whisper, and Jungkook has to stop himself from choking on his spit. Your voice sounded almost sultry. He can't tell if that was his imagination or if it was intentional on your part.
Jungkook shakes his head, turning up the speed just a little bit more.
He hears the shutter on your camera clicking, the action setting in full effect as he runs. You move around him, being sure not to get yourself in the mirror of the shots. The only noises in the room are his breathing and the sounds of his feet hitting the runway. It's rough, his chest heaving the more he pushes himself, but he's more interested in the way you seem to float around the room, or the fact that your hands seem dwarfed by the large camera.
It makes him wonder what your hands would look like on him.
A necklace dangles from your neck, it's gold and shines under the lights of the gym. It falls gently into the crevice of your chest, what looks like a golden moon on the end of the chain.
Again, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his.
"You gotta stop looking at the camera." you giggle.
He didn't even realize his eyes were following you. Suddenly, it's like a wave of confidence washes over him. Confidence that he was not ready for.
He swallows, taking a deep breath, "I'm not looking at the camera." Why is he saying this?
"Yes you are," you grin, "I have like 7 pictures in a row of you looking directly at the camera."
"No," he shakes his head, "I'm looking at the person holding the camera." Shut up, Jungkook. Stop talking!
"Oh?" you laugh, "what's catching your eye?"
"The necklace." what the fuck? He basically admitted to staring at your tits!
"The necklace that's right in between my tits?"
He laughs, you snap a picture.
"I guess so, I'm sorry." The usual nervousness that he would feel at an admission like that is non-existent. He feels comfortable enough to talk to you like this, and judging by the way you smile, you're comfortable with it too.
"No need to be sorry," you snap another picture, "I know they draw attention."
Jungkook nods, "They certainly do."
"What do you like about them?"
The question throws Jungkook for a loop but he doesn't let that show.
"They're perky," he explains, stopping the treadmill, "and your shirts show off the perfect amount to leave some to the imagination."
"Ah, so you're imagining my tits?"
"Yes."
You smirk, walking away. For a moment, Jungkook is scared he said too much, but it's very quickly washed away by the sound of the lock turning. "So," you begin, "you're saying that if I took off my shirt, you wouldn't be opposed to looking at me?"
Jungkook shakes his head, "I also wouldn't be opposed to touching you."
"Well," you slip off your shirt, "I'm ready."
Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his gym shorts at the sight of your bra. Of your fucking bra.
Despite the blood rushing to his cock, he shakes his head, "Oh come on, darling. You know that's not enough for me."
"Your shirt first, buddy." your eyes follow Jungkook as he grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it off. Now that there's verbal consent, your eyes roam all over his torso. He's ripped, Jungkook knows this, but under your gaze he feels like a meal. Like he's about to get devoured by you, and he can't say he's not enjoying the idea.
You reach behind you, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall to the ground.
Jungkook's eyes widen at sight, stepping closer to you and falling to his knees. He places his nose against your torso, inhaling your scent. The sensuality of the small gasp that left your mouth fueled Jungkook. He grabs your hands and pulls you down to his level, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.
It's rough and heated, all teeth and tongue. He's not used to being this way, to feeling almost primal in his movements. He gnaws at your bottom lip, eliciting another moan from you. It's high pitched and nearly whiny, proving that you're suddenly filled with as much need as he is.
"I'm gonna fuck you," Jungkook states, "right here. Right now."
"Please." you toss your head back, falling onto the padded floors of the gym. Jungkook follows suit, kissing his way down your body until he reaches your navel. Again, he presses his nose into you and inhales, you smell so damn good.
He keeps smelling, inhaling your scent as he undoes the buttons of your jeans. The less clothing there, the stronger your scent becomes. He feels insatiable, nearly ripping off your panties to get to your center.
"Fuck, you're so wet already," Jungkook groans, his voice deep with want, with need. Taking a single finger up your slit, he draws it back and sucks your juices clean, "and you taste as good as you smell."
You stare up at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself up on your elbows and spreading your legs as wide as you can. "Now that you've had a taste you might as well finish it."
Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice, diving into your soaked folds with his tongue. He moves fast but also meticulously, being sure to take note of all the places that make you moan a little louder, sink a little deeper into him. Your hand reaches down and snakes its way through his hair, tugging at the roots.
At that point, Jungkook begins to kick off his shorts without pulling away.
"Fuck, I've always wanted to fuck you," you moan in between words, "you always look so good everywhere you go."
"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckles, "did you imagine fucking me before you got hired here?"
You nod, "I couldn't help it, I knew you'd be good."
As Jungkook manages to get his shorts off, he grips ahold of his aching member. Pulling up to his knees, his thumb doesn't stop rubbing harsh circles against your clit.
"That's hot," Jungkook breathes, "I've been wanting to take you since I first saw you."
"Then do it." you demand, and a flip switches in Jungkook's brain.
He pulls his fingers away from you and leans forward, "Taste yourself."
You don't hesitate to take his fingers into your mouth, Jungkook feeling your tongue dance across the pads of his fingers. Feeling himself twitch, he strokes himself for a little bit of relief while you suck.
"Taste good?" He questions.
"Delicious."
"Good girl." He murmurs, leaning down and connecting your lips with his again. As he does so, he runs the head of his cock against your slit, enjoying the gasp you let out every time he brushes against your clit. You feel so warm, so inviting. He can taste you so well, he wants nothing more than to dive in.
So he does.
Pressing into you slowly, he feels your warmth envelope him. Your legs wrap around his hips and guide him in all the way. When he slips all the way in, you both pull away for a moan.
"So fucking good. So tight." He moves his hips achingly slow, enjoying the noises of content leaving your lips. Your moans spur him on as your tightness engulfs him yet again. He leans down and presses a kiss to your neck, your hot skin nearly burning his lips, "I don't want to hurt you."
You shake your head, "You can't hurt me. I promise."
Jungkook isn't sure what takes over him at this point, but he feels his lips begin to thrust harshly into you. He doesn't process the rest of the world, the only thing that's certain is you. You're everything that he needs to focus on now, your whines, your moans, the feeling of your legs guiding him in and out of you. He wants to take you here over and over again until the end of time, and he's never felt that about anyone before in his life.
Your lips are beginning to bruise from the rough kisses he's been laying on you, so he takes a gentle approach and sucks on your jawline. Every few thrusts, he rests his forehead against yours. Then he moves again. Then rests.
"Tell me how good I feel." you whisper against his lips, breathy.
"Baby," Jungkook's brows knit together in pleasure, "you feel so good around me. So warm. I want to cum in you and fill you up so bad. Do-n't stop squeezing- fuck."
Jungkook abandons the pace he tried to keep and slams into you, pulling you on top of him and lifting you up and down on his cock. You let out a scream as he reaches a point he hasn't touched before, your cunt tightening exponentially around him.
He latches his mouth onto your nipples, the sensitive peaks hardening against his tongue. Your nails rake down his chest while you grind against him, your ass smacking against his thighs while he begins thrusting upward.
His hands grip your hips harshly, sure enough to leave bruises by his fingertips. He feels his orgasm approaching quickly, but he needs you to cum first. He need to feel you cum around him. "Fuck," he growls through clenched teeth, "cum. I need you to cum. Cum around me, please please please!"
"I'm gonna- I'm-" your sentence is cut off by your orgasm taking over, clenching deliciously around Jungkook and pushing him over the edge. His hips stutter and he releases into you, your warmth mixing with his as he collapses onto the ground. You're both silent for a while, your chests heaving as you try to calm down. Jungkook leans up, keeping you in a hug as your knees move to either side of his hips. Neither of you make a move to pull apart, Jungkook softening inside of you but the sensitivity feels so good.
He rests his chin on your shoulder, glancing behind you and towards the mirrors. On the inner edge of each of your shoulder blades, lay two large scars. They're old, pink in color now. Jungkook reaches a finger up to trace the scars but is stopped by a knock on the door.
"Hey, I'm ready when you are _____!" Jimin's voice sounds through the gym, muffled by the door.
"Shit." You whisper, "shit, shit, shit!"
You quickly pull off of him, beginning to slip your panties and bra back on.
Jungkook flinches at the sudden loss of warmth around him, looking down at his cock and seeing a mixture of his and your cum coating his thighs. "Don't you need to clean up?" he whispers.
"I'll stop by the bathroom on the way." you murmur, now fully dressed, "thank you for that, by the way." you wink, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing a hard kiss against him. Then, you're out the door.
Jungkook is left naked on the floor, confused, and wanting to ask why exactly you have asymmetrical scars on your back.
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