#Who is your favorite angry stick

[roseytvii]

Angry Sticks

King Orange - Angry

TDL - Rageful

Razzle Dazzle Rose - Jealous

[arolesbianism]

Sus quest my beloved <333333

[girlygguk]

FIRST CLASS | JJK (Teaser)

summary in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

uni au, rich student!jk x rich student!f.reader

[fluff, angst, smut] childhood bestfriends to lovers, pining, unrequited(?) love, they're likee chaebols okay, tae's sister reader, mega SIMP kook because i literally can't write him any other way, jungkook is a sweet fuckboy (if that exists)

teaser word count: 1.4k (sfw, cursing)

full fic word count: 25k (nsfw)

release date: july-16 @ 2pm (est)

>>> FIRST CLASS IS OUT NOW! <<<

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2 years prior ੈ✩‧₊˚ circa. your 19th birthday. . .

"Get fucked, Jeongguk." The words rip from your throat, venomous and sharp as they slap your best friend's face into a furrowed, exasperated expression.

You yank the jacket tighter around your shoulders as the cold night air whips at your skin, storming down the sidewalk. The urge to rip the jacket—his jacket—off your body is strong, but it's so fucking cold. You may be petty and possibly overreacting a little right now... but you're not stupid.

Jungkook's heavy footsteps trail after you, his calls of your name only pushing you to walk faster. He catches up in no time, your hurried steps no match for his long strides. He tries to gently grab your arm, but you shrug off his touch angrily, spinning around to glare at him. You're about to tell him to fuck off again when he speaks first.

"Come back inside. It's like a fucking blizzard out here; you're going to freeze to death," he says evenly, though frustration laces his words.

"Oh, please," you laugh humorlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "As if you give a shit if I freeze."

"Don't fucking say—"

"I'm going home. You can tell everyone I'm sick and had to leave. Or don't, I don't fucking care." You turn away and start walking again, his footsteps immediately following.

"You're walking home?" You ignore his question, causing him to huff and run a hand through his hair. "Let me drive you home, please."

You ignore him again, knowing that if there's something Jungkook can't stand more than you yelling at him, it's you not speaking to him.

"Stop doing this. It's your birthday; don't let it end like this—"

"Yes, Jeongguk, it's my birthday," you seethe, whipping back around. "And you brought a random chick none of us even know to my birthday dinner. And you didn't even bother to get me a gift. On. My fucking. Birthday."

"Y/N—"

"Limited edition PlayStation, imported Swedish lacrosse stick, custom painted iPad from your favorite local fucking artist," you list the gifts you've gotten him for his birthday over the years angrily. Jungkook shakes his head, trying to step closer to you, but you hold up your hand to keep the distance.

"Do you even know how much effort I put into the things I get and do for you? And for you to sit there with that... that stupid fucking look on your—God, Jeongguk!" Your voice is on the cusp of being a whine, but you don't care. "Oh, but I'm sure you spent a decent chunk of Daddy's money on Winnie tonight, huh?" You don't care that the Daddy's money statement is also very applicable to you… you're angry.

Jungkook's jaw clenches at your words, and he steps forward, slipping his hand into the pocket of the jacket you're wearing. Before you can snap at him again, he pulls out a small velvet box and holds it out to you.

"What is that?" you demand, your voice still trembling with annoyance.

"Your gift," he says softly, opening the box to reveal a white-gold Cartier diamond necklace. "I was planning to give it to you when we were in private."

You stare at the necklace, your anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise. The diamonds of the pendant sparkle under the streetlights, and you almost let out a moan. Diamonds are your weakness.

"You motherfucker," you groan under your breath, glaring at the necklace in hopes it will dissipate into thin air so you can continue being annoyed at him.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice a whisper. "Everyone was coming with their partners, Y/N. I couldn't come alone."

You sigh, knowing that. Your comment was a cheap shot, considering Jungkook doesn't hang with a girl more than once, so it would be impossible for him to bring someone you already knew. But Winnie was getting on your last nerve, and you saw an opportunity to sneak in a jab, so you took it. Not only was the girl clearing glass after glass of the expensive wine your friends had ordered as if it were water, but she was also not shy about ordering the priciest dishes on the menu. Judging by her tiny red Zara mini-dress, you highly doubt she'll be reaching for her purse at the end of the night.

Your gaze is still locked on the necklace as you take a moment to think. Jungkook hasn't moved either, continuing to hold the box open for you while he scans your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

"It's, um, engraved and shit," he mumbles, his hand not holding the box lifting to run over his jaw nervously. "And I got a chain one… for me too."

Your eyes snap to his, and he swears his heart stops beating. God, you think it's stupid. You hate it. That's okay. He'll just wait until you turn around so he can sprint to the nearest homeless guy and give him the stupid neckl—

"Like matching?" Your eyes soften, and he slowly feels the blood flooding into his heart.

"Yeah, only if you like, want to," he shrugs cutely, and you can't stop the grin from spreading across your lips.

You're close enough to slide your arms around his torso but still not near enough for Jungkook as he tugs you closer, melting into the hug. "Thank you, Gukkie. I love it," you murmur into his chest, and he feels his muscles relax at you finally using his nickname again.

You lift your head from his black fitted Givenchy dress shirt, which smells a little too good, to look up at him. "But why did you say you didn't have anything when everyone gave me their gifts?"

He looks down at the slight pout on your lips, his fingers twitching with the urge to wipe it off your mouth. Instead, he flicks the box closed with a thumb and holds it out to you. "Don't think Jaehyun would've been thrilled with me giving you this," he chuckles. "The dude hates me."

You frown up at him, about to chime in and say that isn't true, but his lips tug into a smirk as if to say he couldn't care less about what your boyfriend thought of him. And honestly, if he were Jaehyun, he'd hate him too.

Jungkook had the necklaces made a little over two months ago, and you and Jaehyun have only been official for one. So, Jungkook's intentions behind the gift weren't malicious, he swears.

If you just so happen to wear the necklace and your boyfriend notices his matching one, which then causes a rift in your relationship, resulting in the two of you breaking up… well, that would just be a nice little coincidence.

"Jae knows you and I are close," you explain with a crease in your brow that he wants to massage until it goes away. "I made it very clear to him when he wanted to get serious, and he understood."

Jungkook nods along to your words even if he doesn't fully believe them. Either Jaehyun is a really good and secure guy, or he's full of grade-A horse shit. If you were his and another dude tried to come along and buy you an eleven-thousand-dollar necklace? Fuck, he'd knock the guy out cold.

You untangle yourself from your best friend and lift the lid of the velvet box still in his grasp. You coo at the pretty diamonds before turning to face away from Jungkook. You gather your hair before swiping it over your shoulder and letting his jacket fall slightly to bare your neck. Jungkook reacts immediately, picking up the necklace before shoving the box in his pocket. His cold fingers brush against you as he carefully fastens the jewelry around your neck.

When he pulls away, you let your hair fall back into place and turn around to face him again. Your smile is soft, eyes twinkling as you look down at the necklace. "It's so pretty, Gukkie. I love it."

You're so pretty. I love you, he thinks.

-------

spoiled bratty girl and her simpy best friend who knows how to handle her.....GIVE it..

—the full fic is out now! click here to go read <3

[osachiyo]

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[delilahsturniolo]

cuddling with bf!matt

➜ (headcanons)

warnings: just pure fluff, suggestive if you squint.

written by: @delilahsturniolo

© delilahsturniolo

“you know me, you know me.”

“and i just might know you, too.”

____________________________________________

bf!matt ➜ who enjoys cuddling you after a long day of work.

bf!matt ➜ who gently puts your favorite stuffed animal in your arms when you guys aren’t cuddling and you are asleep.

bf!matt ➜ who will always spoon you or let you lay your head on his chest when sleeping.

bf!matt ➜ who massages your scalp or soothingly strokes your hair when you lay on his chest.

bf!matt ➜ who won’t ever let you get out of bed, only because he doesn’t want to let go of you.

bf!matt ➜ who will let you nap in his arms while he’s gaming, or working. matt would let you lay in his lap when he’s playing video games, and when he’s working you would lay on top of him and his computer would sit on your back.

bf!matt ➜ who will hug you and cuddle you even when you guys are upset with each other.

bf!matt ➜ who will cuddle you when you guys are watching a movie, and won’t let go of you even when you fall asleep watching the movie.

bf!matt ➜ who soothingly rubs your back and presses kisses to your face to help you fall asleep.

bf!matt ➜ who knows that you want to be cuddled when you are angry or upset, even if you don’t admit it.

bf!matt ➜ who physically cannot sleep without your arms around him.

bf!matt ➜ who makes you feel safe and comfortable when in his embrace.

bf!matt ➜ who loves when you lay on top of him. he would gently rub your ass or your back.

bf!matt ➜ who washes away a stressful day by relaxing in bed with you, it’s all he needs to feel better.

bf!matt ➜ who absolutely loves when he’s cuddling you while you’re wearing his clothes, he thinks it’s adorable and attractive.

bf!matt ➜ who knows your love language is physical touch, so he’s constantly kissing, hugging, and touching you affectionately.

bf!matt ➜ who always lets you sleep in his room, and never denies you when you ask to cuddle. He’ll immediately drop everything he’s doing just for you.

bf!matt ➜ who will give you aftercare and cuddle you after having sex, repeatedly telling you he loves you and how good you did.

bf!matt ➜ who loves every part of you and falls more in love with you every day.

comment on this post to be apart of the taglist! 🪽🤍

AUTHORS NOTE 💌

cuddling with matt would fix me. 💔

i feel like i don’t need to explain the song choice for this post it just makes sense for matt.

taglist:

@babyalliah-777 @stopdropandroll1 @h3arts4harry @sturniolossluttybitch @sturniooolos @gwennybenny @jetaimevous @vtaraa @doctorreid187 @ivysturnss @strvnolin @sturnzsun @sassysturniolo2008 @blahbel668 @jamiesturniolo @sabsturned @wiidfi0wer33 @bitchydragonparadisee @ofc1ofc @z03ey @pixie-sticks-are-good @elsxz1 @rafecameronsbitch @mariasturniolo @miss-tyummy @emmavzlsblog @mattlovesfall @slutforsturnioloss @itsfloriii @stvrnmc @sturnsxplr-25 @sturnobsessedwh0re @kierra-holland @itzzmfjade @ilovecats0402 @lizzymacdonald06 @0kt0 @sturnstvr @sturnn372 @emely9274 @nicksloverrr

[joonsmagicshop]

Sundress Season

Summary: The heat of the summer means you are suddenly only wearing sundresses. Short, tight, impossibly cute dresses that make Jungkook feel things. When he decides to jerk off before a beach day with you little does he know you would accidently walk in...and like what you see.

Paring: Jungkook/Reader

Word Count: 6.2K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: porn with slight plot, secret crush, friends to lovers, Jungkook is down bad, fantasizing, male masturbation, accidental voyeurism, handjob, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex with protection, POV switch between him and reader, dirty talk, he calls her good girl at one point, slight fluff at the end, Namjoon mention cause he is my bias

Authors Note: okay so. I was about to take a nap and this idea popped into my head and I JUMPED out of bed to write it! It has been hot as hell all summer long and honestly unpopular opinion but I am ready for fall. Was gonna save this for Jungkook's birthday but oh well!

Also this was loosely inspired by a One Direction fic I read over ten years ago. While the fic is gone it is definitely not forgotten

Jungkook was someone who liked the summer months.

He liked the longer brighter days, the food eaten from a barbeque, bonfires with friends, and all the fun events that happen over the summer.

It was prime time for everyone to get out and do things before the harsh dull winter arrived.

However, this summer was different because by the time August rolled around Jungkook was just….over it.

He chalked it up to a lot of things.

The fact he didn’t get a proper haircut before the summer started, so he spent the whole time with a hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back from his sweaty neck.

The fact he had a song coming out at the end of August that he still wasn’t completely sure about so he spent most of his days either working on it in his studio or from the comfort of his own home.

Or maybe it was the fact almost all summer long the weather had been very hot and very humid, making his clothes stick to his skin the second he walked out the door and making it almost impossible to actually enjoy going out and doing anything.

Jungkook sighed as he crossed another day off his calendar that hung on the wall in his home office counting down the days until August was over.

Sure the start of September was his birthday and he was excited for that but he was mostly getting excited about the prospect of cooler weather and no more daunting deadlines hanging over his head like an angry raincloud.

As his best friend, you could tell Jungkook wasn’t enjoying this summer. His usual free-spirited nature seemed to be crushed by the weight of his work and also the humidity, which seemed to linger no matter how many summer rainstorms blew through.

So you had texted him a week ago asking if he wanted to have a beach day with you today.

You assured him all he had to do was drive and grab beach umbrellas and you would take care of the rest for him, making the food and grabbing a cooler full of drinks.

Jungkook was ecstatic at the idea and made sure to work extra hard this past week to give himself a day off to spend with you.

However, that did pose another problem for Jungkook as he left his home office to head back to his bedroom to make sure his beach bag was packed.

Sunscreen, towel, extra towel in case, his goggles for when he swam, his phone, a book Namjoon had told him he should read even though it had been three months since it had been loaned out to Jungkook and he still had not even opened it, a notebook and a pen in case a song idea came to him, headphones, sunglasses and lastly some of his favorite chips he was packing just in case.

While he was all packed and ready to go, there was still a big problem he was dealing with.

How was he supposed to deal with being around you while you were dressed in one of your many sundresses?

Somewhere online had dubbed it a “sundress summer” due to the humidity and the trend took off instantly. It seemed like everywhere he went girls were wearing these short cute sundresses because in their words it was too hot to wear pants.

You usually were not a trend follower as you opted to choose your own style but this was a trend you could get behind, and soon enough Jungkook found you wearing sundresses almost every day.

Soft blue ones with little bows on the straps, bright red ones with white flowers, and even some strapless ones that nearly made his eyes pop out of his head at the sight.

He genuinely didn’t think he would survive this summer if you kept up with this, especially since most of the sundresses were short and had a habit of billowing in the breeze making you grab the skirt and giggle.

The other big problem was you had no idea the turmoil Jungkook had been in all summer long.

You both were friends, growing up across the street from each other and hanging out almost every day. You went to the same grade school, and the same high school, and were inseparable. You supported his dreams of being an idol and he supported your goals and dreams too.

You had no idea that this was the summer that everything changed for him. When he realized that you were not just his best friend, but also a charismatic stunning woman who he started to gain a crush on.

Jungkook tried his best to keep the crush to himself. He didn’t want to lose you as a friend and it would be devastating to get rejected by you so he figured he would just keep it hidden and keep being your friend.

He would try his best not to scowl anytime a man came up to you and offered to buy you a drink. He would pretend it didn’t hurt when you would kiss strangers at the club wrapping your fingers through their hair and moaning against their lips.

He hated that when you dropped a guy because of whatever reason, his heart would do a little victory dance in his chest and he would try to look like a supportive friend and not a desperate loser who just wanted you to feel the same way about him as he did about you.

There were times though, when Jungkook was sure you felt….something.

How your eyes would linger when he took off his shirt. How you would always ask him to roll up his sleeve so you could look at the array of tattoos he had, how angry you got when that girl he really liked ghosted him a year ago.

There were times when he would also catch you staring at his lips. Just a quick downward flick of your eyes and in a blink it was gone.

But Jungkook noticed.

And he often wondered what would happen if he leaned in and kissed you.

Would he have read the entire situation wrong? Or would you kiss him back?

Jungkook shakes his head to rid him of these thoughts as he scoops everything up and puts it in his beach bag muttering to himself how he is being silly about this whole thing.

He is your friend.

And that’s that.

His phone vibrates on his dresser startling him, as he zips the bag closed and grabs it.

You: I have all the goods we need! I’m so excited for our beach day Kookie. Text me when you want me to head over. Might take a bit because of Saturday traffic.

Jungkook smiles at your pet name for him even though you have used it a million times and he quickly texts you back letting you know he was ready and you could come over whenever.

Jungkook’s vehicle had more storage space so you were going to drive to his place and he was going to drive to the beach. Plus his car had a sunroof which you absolutely adored and you often put your hands above your head like you were on a rollercoaster to feel the wind between your fingers.

It made him smile every time and made his heart pound in his chest.

Those were the moments of pure bliss where he felt his heart would burst out of his chest at all the feelings he had for you.

Feelings he was still trying to desperately hide.

Namjoon of course found out one night when Jungkook had one too many drinks and spilled his guts about it. Namjoon was patient with Jungkook as he told the entire story, how the crush came out of nowhere, and how he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t lose you.

As always Namjoon was the voice of reason and told Jungkook just to talk to you about it and Jungkook shot that idea down right away.

Namjoon promised to keep his mouth shut until Jungkook was ready to tell you himself which Jungkook vowed he would never… ever do. Your friendship was very important. He would take this secret with him to the grave.

With nothing else to do until you arrived, Jungkook shucked his beach bag off his bed and laid down.

He threw an arm over his face and let out a frustrated groan.

How the hell was he supposed to survive having a beach day with you? You were so beautiful. So sexy in your little sundresses, seeing you in a bathing suit would destroy him.

His mind wandered to last week when you met him for a lunch break you forced him to have because he was working so hard that he started skipping meals.

You showed up to his studio with food in hand and a little black sundress with small white and pink flowers scattered all over it.

The straps were so tiny and delicate and tied together with small pink bows and Jungkook couldn’t help but stare, as you brushed past him to put the food on the small coffee table he kept in his studio.

As you leaned down the dress climbed higher up your body, exposing more of your legs and the apex of your thighs to his hungry gaze and he couldn’t help it.

The blood rushed to his cock so quickly he felt dizzy as he scrambled to sit on the couch before you noticed he popped a boner because of you in that damn sundress.

You didn’t seem to notice as you sat next to him and chatted about your day as you ate alongside him.

Jungkook tried to focus on what you were saying, he really did, but his eyes kept trailing down to your thighs and how tanned they looked due to all the time you spent outside.

What he wouldn’t give to pull that dress up higher and expose more of yourself to him. What would you do if he got his fingers between those legs? How would you sound moaning out his name as he plunges a finger inside?

Back in the present time Jungkook groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

He could hardly hear the sounds of the lawnmower outside, or the kids screaming down the block as blood was pounding in his ears and he looked down with a grimace as he was hard in his swim trunks.

Achingly hard.

Just the memory of you in that dress alone made his cock fill rapidly and the bulge was evident as his cock stretched the material.

Now was not the time to pop a boner as you were going to be showing up soon but he felt like if he didn’t take care of it now it would never go down so he slowly lifted his hips to shuck off his swim shorts throwing them somewhere on the floor and freeing his aching cock.

His cock sat hard and heavy on his stomach as the head of it was a flushed red color. Jungkook took his time tracing his tattooed hand down his body, shivering when the air conditioning turned on, turning his nipples hard as he finally made his way to his cock.

He circled his cock which twitched in his hand and he got to work.

He threw his head back and imagined what would happen if he did lift your dress higher that day.

How you would stare at him all wide-eyed and shocked as he exposed your pussy. How you would be wet and throbbing for him. He would of course ask for permission before touching you and you would admit you’ve wanted this for ages.

Jumgkook sped up his movements on his cock, flicking his wrist over the cockhead and smearing his precum down his heated shaft. He always got so messy and wet when he imagined you and the glide felt amazing.

In his mind’s eye, you were grabbing his arm for support as his other hand explored your pussy. He would part your pussy lips so gently and you would be soaked for him. You would arch up into his fingers and beg for his touch as he would finally coat his finger in your wetness.

He would pop it into his mouth and taste you as you would whine and beg him for more.

The taste of you would explode on his tongue and he knew the second it touched his tongue it was over for him. He would never want to taste anyone else but you.

Jungkook sped up his movements once again as his muscles started to strain. He was getting close as his thumb flicked over his cockhead sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.

He would lay you back on the couch in his studio and fuck you open with one finger. You would be so wet for him, so needy for him. Your dress hiked up to expose yourself, one strap falling off your shoulder as you whine out his name.

Jungkook tightens his grip on his cock and begins to fuck up into his fist. His head is thrown back and his dark hair is a mess on his pillow. He bites his bottom lip to keep from whining your name out loud. His cock is throbbing in his hand, hot and hard and so desperate to release all over his twitching stomach.

He wants to make you cum apart all over his fingers. He wants to tease you, taste you, fill you up with his cock, and make you moan his name.

His hand speeds up as his hips fuck his cock wildly up into his hand.

Sweat is starting to form on his brow and he is close, so close he can feel his muscles tighten and his balls draw up. His cock is a sticky mess as he is leaking so much precum the glide is impeccable and the wet sounds are obscene.

“Y/N.” He groans unable to keep his noises contained as the muscles on his arms are bulging as he rubs his hand across his frenulum collecting the mess there to slide it down his shaft.

Jungkook can feel the beginning of his orgasm as he cries out your name and tightens his hand around his shaft jerking his cock quickly as the pressure builds.

He is right there.

His balls tighten, and he can feel his shaft contracting and spasming. His heart rate is rapid and the hair on his arms stands up.

“Kook?” He hears a soft small voice call and his eyes snap open as panic seizes his body. He released his cock to grab a pillow to cover himself as his head whips around to see you standing there in one of your sundresses looking horrified.

Holy fuck.

“Y/N!” He cries out, shoving the pillow over his cock which is still thrumming with need and twitching painfully as his orgasm is still just right there but you are also standing....right there.

He sits up against the headboard and puts a hand over his racing heart as he stares at you wide-eyed in absolute horror.

He was jerking off to you. His best friend. Moaning your name. And you walked in on him caught in the act.

Holy fuck he was so fucked.

“I-texted you to let you know I was here but you didn’t answer. I remembered where you keep the spare key so I-l-Let myself in.” You stammered unable to look away as Jungkook wished the bed and floor would swallow him hole.

You had driven over so excited to see Jungkook today and you even wore your best sundress just for him.

The pale blue one with the small bow in between the built-in cups.

You made sure to get all his favorite foods and snacks as you knew he had been working himself to death and you wanted to treat him.

He didn’t answer your knocks or your texts so you figured maybe he had his music on too loud once again and didn’t hear you.

You put the key in the door and were met with utter silence, which was a little weird but you figured he was in the back getting the umbrellas or something so you made your way through his apartment until you heard a noise.

A soft grunt that had you worried. Maybe he hurt himself? Maybe he was sick?

You flew to his bedroom and there he was.

All sprawled out on the bed with his shorts discarded on the floor. He was still wearing his white tee shirt and had his head thrown back against his pillows with his legs spread wide exposing himself to you.

You knew you should leave, you knew this was a private moment but you couldn’t help but stare as he worked his cock with his hand.

He was big and even from where you stood you could see how wet his cock was and how slick he sounded when he jerked it.

You knew you should step away, maybe stand outside until it was over but you were rooted to the spot as you watched his hips arch up and the filthiest moans leave his pink parted lips.

And when he moaned your name

Dear god when he moaned your name you felt your own arousal pool in your bikini shorts as you gripped the door for support.

Jungkook moaning your name.

He was fantasizing about you

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever met and he chose to fantasize about you when he jerked off.

The whole thing felt unreal.

“I-I- You… you weren’t supposed to-I didn’t mean for you to- fuck.” Jungkook stuttered as you put your bag down on the floor and entered his room.

His large dark eyes widened when you made your way to the bed and you could see his fingers flexing on the decorative pillow he threw over his lap to cover himself.

“I-fuck- I’m so sorry you probably h-h-ate me and think I’m a pervert- I-I can-explain.” He stammers cheeks flushed with the prettiest blush you had ever seen.

Jungkook continued to stammer out apologies as you stared down at him in shock. His hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead and his chest was heaving. You could see his muscles straining through the white material of his shirt and his hand held the pillow firmly over his cock.

Was he still hard?

Was he still horny?

Was he actually jerking off to you?

“Y/N please say something. Please.” He begs in a small voice as your eyes finally meet his and he looks in anguish over the whole thing.

“Were you…jerking off….to me?” You ask in awe as he flushes further and sits up higher on the bed.

His teeth bite into his lower lip as you sit softly on the edge of the bed.

“I-I can-I-” He stammers.

“Yes or No Jungkook?” You ask firmly.

His eyes widen and he nods. He hangs his head in shame and you feel your pussy throb.

Jungkook, your best friend, the guy you have had a crush on since high school was hot and bothered because of you.

It made you beam in excitement.

“Show me.” You say boldly as his eyes snap to yours and widen in shock.

“I-Uh- W-What?” He says.

“I want to see you finish. Or help you finish. Show me, Koo?” You plead as his tongue comes out to lick at his lip and the tension in the room is thick like the humidity outside.

“You don’t hate me? Or think I’m creepy? You’re not going to yell at me?” He says doe eyes wide as his hand twitches on the pillow again.

“Of course not. Masturbation is normal. I’m honored you’re even thinking of me in the first place.” You say as you slowly run your hand down his forearm.

“I died. I must have died or hit my head cause there is no way this is real. Holy fuck.” He mutters as you giggle and Jungkook can feel his cock, which had gone immediately soft at being caught, start to thicken behind the pillow.

“This is real. And I gotta admit. It’s hot as fuck you think of me when you touch yourself.” You admit as he blinks shyly at you.

“Can’t help it. These sundresses…fuck.” He says fingering the fabric of your dress before running a shaky hand through his long hair.

“Show me, Koo? Please.” You beg and he nods slowly as his teeth bite into his lower lip harshly.

“Don’t bite your lip Koo you’re gonna make yourself bleed.” You whisper as he lets out a breathy nervous laugh.

“Can’t help it. ‘m nervous.” He admits.

“No need to be nervous. It’s just me.”

“That’s the problem. The girl I’m fantasizing about is right in front of me wanting to see me jerk off. I’m so pent up I’m scared I’m gonna bust a nut all over this pillow.” He whimpers as you giggle.

“Then you better get to work. Show me? Please, Koo? Wanna see up close.”

He nods and removes the pillow baring his half-hard cock to you.

You gasp when you see it and Jungook covers his eyes in embarassment.

Even half-hard his cock is beautiful. The head is flushed a pretty pink color and there is a vein running up it that makes your mouth water.

“So pretty Koo.” You praise, as he removes his hands and stares at you in awe.

He slowly takes his cock in his hand and begins to jerk it. You watch as the flushed head disappears between his fist and how he takes his time with himself, flicking his wrist occasionally making pretty beads of precum leak out the slit.

It doesn’t take long for him to get to full hardness and he lets go of his cock to show you how it smacks against his stomach.

He is rock hard and leaking and the vein that winds up his cock is a lot more prominent now as the head of his cock is now a pretty flushed red color and shiny, so shiny.

“Fuck Koo you are so big.” You whimper as without warning you wrap your hand around his cock and his hips arch up into your touch as a broken moan spills from his lips.

“Can I?” You ask with a quirk of your eyebrow as he nods frantically and you snicker.

You take your time with him jerking him the way you saw him do to himself. You flick your wrist when you get to the top and you use your thumb to smear the precum over the head of his cock and his slit. He is so velvety and warm under your touch you let out a soft whine as you jerk him.

Jungkook is a mess below you. His chest is heaving, his muscles are straining and he is trying his best to hold back and not cum the second you get your hands on him.

“F-Fuck I hate to say this b-but ‘m close.” He whines in panic.

“Can you hold back a little longer so I can taste you?” You ask innocently as he bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes trying to take deep breaths and stop the incessant throbbing of his cock. His denied orgasm from earlier was making him needy and he needed to calm himself down before he made a mess all over your fist.

You lean down and slowly give the head of his cock kitten licks. Jungkook moans above you and you grin as you finally take him into your mouth.

Your mouth is hot and wet and everything Jungkook had ever wanted as you suck him down, bobbing your head and humming around him, causing vibrations to run up his shaft.

With your other hand, you jerk him, picking up speed as you suck him off and when your tongue flicks over his frenulum Jungkook is a goner.

He croaks out your name and holds back your hair as he cums down your throat. No warning could have pulled you off his cock as you swallow everything he has to give, slowing your strokes and milking his cock for all that he has.

“S-Sensitive. Fuck.” He whines out as you pull off and open your mouth to show him proudly that you swallowed it all.

“You are trying to kill me. Holy fuck.” He breathes out as you giggle and curl up next to him, lacing your fingers together and waiting for him to come down from his high.

You can feel the uncomfortable wetness between your thighs but you don’t worry about that now as you bury your face in his chest and listen to his breathing settle.

“I’m dead. Like I’m actually dead. No way that happened.” He pondered as you giggle and pinch his side

“Ouch! What was that for!” He cries out as you sit up and smirk at him.

“Dead people can’t feel pinches. You are very much alive.” You say smiling down at him as sits crisscrossed on the bed and stares at you.

“You-You jerked me off.” He says

“I did.” You reply with a smug smile.

“I- I imagined I was fingering you and suddenly you were here…jerking me off.” He wonders aloud.

“Mm, you fingering me. That’s hot,” you say feeling your pussy throb.

“But we were friends aren’t we?” He asks in a small timid voice.

“Friends can jerk each other off. Though... I would like to be more than friends.” You reply feeling your heart racing in your chest.

“Like…fuck buddies?” He replies as his tongue comes out to lick at his lips and you can’t help but laugh.

“I was thinking we could go on a date.”

His eyes bulge and his cheeks turn a beautiful dusty pink.

“I’ve liked you for years now Koo. I didn’t think you felt the same but walking in on you… moaning my name…. Fuck.” You say running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond.

And for a breath, you are worried you read the whole thing wrong and fucked this friendship up.

But then he leans forward, tangles his hands in your hair, and kisses you.

And you kiss him right back.

The kiss is passionate and wild. You press your lips hard into his and pour out all those days and weeks and months of looking at him and wishing he was yours. Jungkook moans against your mouth which gives you access to swipe your tongue along his lower lip as he groans.

“Fuc-Fuck I feel the same way.” He mutters against you as he flips you over with ease and has you pinned to the bed.

You giggle when you look up and see him overtop of you, his eyes wide with disbelief and his lips red and swollen.

He swoops in and kisses you again as you run your hands down his strong back and arch up into his touch. His lips move with yours and you boldly wrap your legs around his back to push his crotch into yours making him grunt against your mouth.

“Let me make you feel good.” He groans as you nod.

Jungkook fixes the pillows behind your head and gets to work peppering kisses on your cheeks and down your neck causing you to arch up into his touch and moan.

You are beyond needy at this point and when he tugs at the straps of your dress to kiss at your shoulders you moan out his name and flutter your eyes closed.

His lips feel like heaven and when he finally had enough kissing he kneels above you and you open your eyes.

“I never thought this day would come. You in a sundress, laying in my bed. Fuck I’m the luckiest guy alive.” He says as you smile up at him with adoration.

Jungkook’s warm hands come to rest on your thighs and he slowly and carefully lifts up your dress to expose your body to him.

His eyes widen when he takes in the black bathing suit bottoms you picked out which are modest enough for the beach but have two tantalizing ties at the sides holding the material together.

“Thank god I got you in my bed. It would have been so difficult seeing you in these bottoms without getting hard.” He admits as his hand toys with the ties and when he finally unties them both and pulls the fabric off of your body you are panting below him.

You snicker when you see his cock bobbing between his legs at the sight of you and he wraps a hand around himself to stroke his cock to ease some of the ache.

“Hey, you already got your turn!” You tease as he releases his cock and grins sheepishly at you.

“May I?” He asks and you nod, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as his fingers part your folds and he swears under his breath.

“Fucking soaked for me. Just like I imagined.”

He gathers your wetness and brings it up to your clit as he rubs you in slow circles causing you to arch off the bed and whine out his name.

Jungkook continues to circle your clit agonizingly slow and he snickers when you beg him for more.

“How are we going to have sex and make it to the beach if you're going this slow.” You say as his eyes widen and his movements halt.

“Koo.” You whine as you grab at his wrist to get him to do something…anything.

“You want to have sex?” He asks shyly as you stare down at him.

“I’d like to. Only if you want to though. I’m okay with this too.” You admit as you see his cock twitching between his legs again.

“I want to have sex with you.” He says as he pulls you in for another rough kiss and his hands return to your pussy with enthusiasm.

“Can I slip a finger inside? Gotta prep you for my cock.” He growls against your lips as you nod and he gathers more wetness on his middle finger before slipping it inside your tight wet heat.

You cry out his name and grab onto his bicep as he thrusts his finger in and out of your body. He wastes no time adding another finger and the stretch makes you whine but he is careful and takes his time until you are moaning again and begging him to move.

He scissors his fingers causing you to flutter your eyes closed and arch up into his touch. Your whole body is on fire and when he curls his fingers you feel every muscle in your body start to tense as you grind down on them desperate for more.

You blindly reach down for his cock which is now standing hard and proud and when you circle it Jungkook hisses and uses his free hand to swat yours away.

You open your eyes to frown at him but he curls his fingers up inside you again and you are seeing stars.

“I’ll cum if you jerk me off Y/N. I swear this is so hot I’m so fucking hard right now. Don’t wanna cum around your fist.” he explains as you grin.

“Then fuck me and cum inside me instead.” You offer as he removes his fingers and you open your eyes in time to see him pop them in his mouth.

You gasp as he licks your slick off his fingers moaning at the taste and your pussy throbs impatiently as he takes his time.

“Koo please.” You beg as he finally gets his fingers clean and he hops off the bed to retrieve a condom.

You watch as he rips open the packet and rolls the condom down his length. He strokes himself and whimpers, which makes you smile to know he is just as desperate as you are

“How do you want it?” He asks hovering above you, lips inches from your own.

“Doesn’t matter just want you.”

He carefully drags your body to the end of the bed and you giggle when he opens your legs and wraps them around his torso.

You stare up at him as he takes his time to tie back his hair.

“Koo. Don’t tease.” You whine impatiently as he finally gets his hair tied back and he grabs the base of his cock to position himself at your wet folds.

“I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last.” He admits as he teases your slit with his cockhead soaking it in your wetness and you whine out in impatience.

“I don’t care about you lasting. Just fuck me already before I do it myself.” You beg as he finally slips his cockhead inside and in one smooth thrust he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can go.

You squeeze your eyes shut and wince at the stretch and Jungkook leans down to press soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

“Doing so well for me. Deep breaths now. So fucking tight around my cock. You are so wet for me. Fuck you feel heavenly.” He praises as he shallowly thrusts inside of you letting your body adjust to his girth and giving you all the time you need.

“Baby, are you already throbbing around me?” He teases as you open your eyes to playfully smack his arm and he shoots you his classic bunny smile.

“Sh-Shut up.” You plead as he begins to give you harder and deeper thrusts and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He feels so good inside of you. The way his cock drags against your walls has you crying out his name and when he starts to really thrust deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fu-Fuck Koo. Feel so good.” You cry out as he holds your legs steady and thrusts his cock inside you, arching his hips so he can hit your G-spot with every thrust.

“Wh-Why are you so good at this what the fuck?” You grit out as he chuckles above you and pushes your legs higher so he can hit deeper inside of you.

“Are you a-actually mad at me for being good at sex?” He taunts you as you decide to get back at him by squeezing his cock with your walls which makes him grunt and fuck you harder and faster.

“No, I’m m-mad we waited so long to do this. Fuck.”

Jungkook picks up speed on his thrusts all the while you are powerless on the bed as you take what he gives you. You claw at the bedspread and moan his name as you feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach and by the way Jungkook is thrusting you know he is close too.

“C-Close. Koo. Please. M-More.” You beg not even able to make a coherent sentence but lucky for you Jungkook knows what you mean as he brings a free hand down to rub at your clit and you cry out his name and grind down on his cock desperately trying to meet his thrusts and chase your ever building high.

Your whole body is on fire, everything is strung tight and you can feel your pussy start to spasm around his cock.

“C-Close.” You cry out in warning as he thrusts into you with such force it pushes you up the bed.

“Cum for me Y/N. Cum around my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He demands and you lose it.

You arch up and close your eyes as you shout out his name and cum hard around his cock. You feel your walls clamp around him as Jungkok groans and throws his head back cumming hard into the condom as your walls keep his cock from thrusting inside of you.

Waves of pleasure roll off you both as Jungook releases your legs and slumps down over top of you keeping his cock inside until you are done riding out your high.

The only sounds in the room are both of your heavy breathing as he finally slips out and leaves to go get cleaned up.

You feel weightless as you lay on the bed and press a hand to your heart as you try to even out your breathing.

Jungkook comes back with water and a warm towel and takes his time opening your legs and cleaning you up as you stare at the ceiling in a post-sex haze.

He lays down beside you and you curl up into his chest as he strokes your hair and praises you for how well you did.

There is a welcome ache between your legs from how roughly he fucked you but you find you don’t mind too much as he wraps his arms around you caging you against his chest.

“That was incredible.” He says as you finally open your eyes to look at him.

His hair was coming out of its bun and tendrils were falling in front of his eyes. You reach up to push them away and smile. He was so handsome.

“That was very incredible holy shit we shouldn’t have waited so long.” You say as you both hear a noise outside and look up to see the sky had grown dark and a heavy rain was coming down.

“Oh shit.” You giggle as you both sit up and stare at the rainstorm outside.

“Guess no beach day for us.” He says smoothing down your hair as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“How about a movie day instead? I still brought snacks and drinks.” You say as he nods and carries you off the bed to the living room and you giggle the entire way.

Permanent taglist

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@hearteyes4hobi

@m00njinnie

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@taekritimin123

@lerasi

@dejaariana

[imfinereallyy]

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

[empress-simps]

James Potter Dating Sirius’ Younger Sister (Head Canons)

Note: These are just random stuff, it has been sitting in my notes app for a month or so? Enjoyy

Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride; just imagine all the chaos this would bring. Best believe you always have a stupid prank to worry about around the corner when your brother and boyfriend are pranksters.

You were a year younger than Sirius, being the middle child, and Regulus the youngest, it wasn’t surprising that you were kind of shunned by Walburga and Orion. You’re a girl, you cannot pass the Black family name onto your children, you were also not the heir. Luckily, big brother Sirius quickly took you under his wing and became the parent figure in your life.

You were sorted into Slytherin, along with Regulus much to your older brother’s dismay.

He threw a fucking fit and practically felt his soul leave his body the first time you told him. Sirius even went as far as tearing up and looking out the window, defeated. (And quite dramatically)

“You should’ve been a Gryffindor, Y/n! I don’t even know why the sorting hat put you in that evil house!” Sirius huffed, pouting.

“Regulus is also in the same house as me, brother.”

“Well it was quite obvious that he was meant to be a Slytherin, Regulus has a stick up his a-“

Although the Marauders mainly pranks the Slytherin students, you were an exception. How could Sirius prank his adorable little sister? You don’t deserve it! (also because James is a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you, Sirius just chalks it up as James being respectful to his younger sibling.)

“Siri, please don’t make Reggie suffer too much.” You plead to your older brother, puppy eyes activating as you heard their plans to set a nasty prank to slytherin students earlier. Sirius’ features soften, “Alright, I’ll talk to James. He’ll be the one to decide.” He pats your head, already formulating an apology for the prank he’s sure will not be cancelled.

James has been harboring feelings ever since he saw you on the train ride to Hogwarts with Sirius in his second year, so it was quite obvious what his opinion is on the matter.

Sirius randomly starts later that evening, “Prongs, Y/n was asking if you could exempt Regulus in our prank-“

“Oh don’t worry I’ll cancel it.”

Peter sputters “You’ll what?”

James looked at them “What? Let’s give them a day off.” Remus did a double take and actually sets his book down after placing his book mark. Yeah, that's how you know it's serious.

“We’ve been planning this for months-“

“Did I stutter, Wormtail?”

The hold you had on James though, seriously.

James Potter is whipped for Y/n Black.

You want some food that the house elves didn't prepare for dinner? Don't worry, James is on the case! He will run to the kitchens and bribe the house elves to make you some of your favorite dishes and what you're craving.

“What’s with the long face, princess?” Sirius asks, seeing you slump down next to him, looking quite defeated.

“Just some housemates, I couldn’t study well because of them.” You grumbled, pulling out your Herbology textbook and trying to focus.

Prongs frowned, snapping him out of his daydreams (which were probably about you.)

“Who?”

James want names.

Who dared interrupt his sweet girl’s (still not his girl though but we don’t talk about that) study session?!

Remus, being the observant sod he is, looks at Prongs, amusement swimming in his eyes as he takes in James’ angry and protective form.

Remus and Peter already has a hunch that Prongs fancy Padfoot’s little sister like… about a few months or so?

James doesn’t really even try to hide it, although it was one of the greatest unsolved mysteries on how Sirius still hasn’t figured it out.

“You reckon Padfoot’s just playing dumb? Even an oaf could see Prongs making heart eyes at Y/n.” Peter stated, snacking on some chocolate frogs as he sat on his bed.

Remus rolled his eyes, also sitting in his bed at their dorm room. The boys in conversation were in their quidditch practice. “He’s quite thick, I bet he wouldn’t even know until they started dating.”

“But Y/n’s innocent- doesn’t even know how lovesick James is.”

Peter was utterly wrong about that part.

You know that James likes you, although you try to ignore it, you can’t.

Because you like him back.

“Go out with me?”

You felt yourself blanch, hearing the familiar cheeky voice behind you.

You nearly broke your neck as you spun around to see James holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers while sporting a nervous smile.

“Does my brother know this?”

“Do you think I’d still be here alive when I tell him I’m utterly in love with his younger sister?”

Sirius almost busted a blood vessel when he found out.

Remus had to physically restrain him from lunging at James.

Yea sure, Sirius views James as his brother from another mother BUT BROTHER-IN-LAW?

“Bloody hell, Pads! Calm your balls down!” Remus grunts, back hugging the boy as he desperately tries to wriggle out of his mate’s grasp.

“No! Let me go, Moony! I just want to have a chat with Prongs!”

“Chat my ass! You were about to bloody knock the living daylights out of him earlier!”

It took a while for Sirius to wrap his head around how one of his brother-from-another-mother fancies his younger sibling.

He won’t lie, he felt betrayed by James for a short amount of time. He distanced himself (for a day, lol) but of course, he couldn’t stay mad at James.

Realistically speaking? James and Remus are the ones who are good enough to date you for Sirius.

“Do you love him?”

Sirius approached you one time in a random hallway. Youwere caught off guard with his question. You never saw your brother serious like that before.

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” You tried to feign innocence, but Sirius saw through that.

“James. I know he fancies you. Have you been shagging-“

You quickly clamped Sirius’ mouth with your hand, looking at your surroundings to check if anyone heard what he said.

“Salazar’s balls, brother! I still have my virtue!” You hissed, “Besides, I’m saving it for marriage.” You told him, making his tense shoulders relax.

“Atleast there’s something good that came out of those boring lectures Walburga taught us.”

“I am not a whore like you, brother.” You snickered, a playful smirk present on your face as Sirius slowly processed what you said.

“Why you little-“

It would take some adjustments for Sirius as he slowly takes in the fact that you and James started dating.

It doesnt help the fact that James always proclaims his undying love for you every chance he gets, which is every time.

Although, before he even asks you to be his girl, he talked to Sirius first, asking for his blessing.

Who is Sirius to deny his little sister and Prong’s happiness?

“I just love her so much…” James sighs dreamily, watching you from the Gryffindor table as you ate in silence beside Regulus, who was uncomfortable and tries to shield you from James’ looks (which he finds creepy).

Sirius can feel his eye twitch.

“Can you stop that Prongs? Just say that to her when you’re alone in a room.”

James frowned, “But you don’t allow us to be alone-“

“Exactly, Prongs. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend—wife even. She’s my younger sister.”

James perked up, “So you’re alright with her being my wife?!”

Hogsmeade dates with James always.

“Honey, you don’t have to get me that necklace.”

He would buy you anything and everything you land your eyes upon more than 1.5 seconds.

He frowns, looking like a kicked puppy. “But you were staring at it!”

“It just crossed my line of vision-“

James certainly went back and secretly bought it for you.

No one can stop him when it comes to spoiling you.

Effie and Fleamont absolutely adores you.

“So, when is the wedding?” Effie smiled, looking at you and James expectantly

Cue Sirius choking in the background.

You blushed as James cleared his throat awkardly, a beet red blush already dusting his cheeks. “Mum…”

Effie blinks, acting innocent. “What? You guys are about to graduate from Hogwarts in… three months or so!”

Your family found out about the relationship.

Walburga’s stinging slap was marked on your cheek. “Have we taught you nothing, girl?!”

Regulus watched worriedly from the side, feeling helpless as Walburga continued to shout and curse at you.

“You good for nothing brat! I should’ve married you off ages ago! To think you’d turn out to be your older brother… Leave! And never come back as you will be no longer welcomed in the house of black!”

Regulus begged to take him with you.

Having nowhere else to go, you knocked on the door of the Potter Manor tiredly, holding your suitcase and Regulus looking around nervously.

Sirius was the one who answered the door.

“she hit you…” James muttered lowly, softly placing his warm hands on your cheek.

“It’s nothing, James.” You shrugged.

“We’ve suffered worse. I’m sure you’ve known that by now.” Regulus told him quietly, not looking up from his cup of warm tea before his eyes flickered to Sirius.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be better.

You’re happy to get out of the abusive household. Bringing Regulus with you, being reunited with your older brother, and hanging out with your boyfriend anytime you want.

Finally graduated from Hogwarts, James decided to pop the question.

“Padfoot..? You in there?” James nervously knocked on Sirius’ bedroom door.

“In here, Prongs! Hold on.” James heard shuffling before the door opened to reveal Sirius rubbing his eyes, seemingly woken up from a nap. He opened the door to let James in his room.

Sirius eyes him, noticing how fidgety one of his best friends are, his mind assumed the worst.

“I swear to Merlin, Prongs. If you got her pregnant and don’t plan to be responsible for it I’ll-“

James sputters, “What?! No! No one’s having a baby!”

Sirius visibly relaxed, “Then what’s gotten you looking so troubled?”

James pulls out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal an engagement ring.

“Erm… I’m not Y/n, Prongs.”

Cue a face palm from James, “I’m planning to marry your sister, not you, Pads. I’m asking for your blessing.”

Sirius didn’t think twice before giving him his blessing.

Which was why he and Regulus were dragged alongside Remus and Peter to plan a prefect surprise proposal.

“No no, it’s a bit crooked on the right.” James told Regulus, who was setting up the picnic blanket.

“Sirius, remind me again why I have decided to help this stupidly nervous sod?” He deadpanned to his brother.

“It’s for Y/n, Reggie.”

Regulus frowns, scrunching up his nose as he watches James run around like a headless chicken who’s trying to oversee everything.

“Right…”

“Where’s the ring?!”

Regulus could only sigh as he watched James panicking and looking in every nook and cranny, searching for the velvet box with the ring inside— that was obvious in his back pocket, where he placed it five minutes ago.

[ihave-atummyache]

everyone is a little toxic

Stray Kids Imagine

summary: toxic traits of skz

sfw! mean!skz toxic!skz but nothing crazy fr. suuuuuper angsty

-OT8

5.7k words

ik i said that i would post it all in one part but mwahahahha😈 there will be a pt 2. later gators

pt2:

Bang Chan: Overworks himself then takes it out on you.

You scoop the meal you just made into a bowl and stare at the steaming food, your lip between your teeth. It is for your boyfriend, Chan, who has locked himself in his room to keep working on a track. The same track that practically had him in tears last week.

You know if you go in and bother him, there is a fifty-fifty chance of him snapping at you. He often does when you 'bother' him while he is working. It isn't your fault that you get concerned for your extremely overworked boyfriend!

You let out a deep sigh and pick the bowl up before making your way over to the room that was set up as an office for him. You knock gently on the door twice before letting yourself in. He often has headphones on and doesn't notice you when you knock so you always let yourself in.

"Channie?" You question, walking towards his hunched figure at his desk. You glances over at you when he senses your presence but doesn't bother taking a headphone off or even trying to talk to you.

You bite down on your lip and debate walking back out of the room and not even talking to him or offering him food. He has been locked up in this room for almost 24 hours. He neglected coming to bed last night and instead has been sat in front of his computer.

"I made dinner," you comment as you reach his desk. He knows you’re there but chooses to pretend he first notice you. Once you're beside him, he dramatically rips his headphones off and slams his hands on the desk, making you jump.

"What, y/n? What could you possibly want right now?" he snaps at you and you bite down on your lip, feeling tears wanting to well up at the embarrassment he was making you feel for trying to take care of him. Your cheeks and neck burn with a deep blush.

Chan’s eyes are bloodshot and glassy. His face is flush and his hair is sticking up in every direction, an obvious sign that he has been running his fingers through it over and over again.

You were right, you should have turned around and left. But its too late now. You're already in the room and you're already getting yelled at so you might as well accept it, even if it does break your heart.

"I-I made you dinner," you stutter out and break eye contact with him, opting to look at the bowl in your hands instead. It is still steaming hot and the steam is hitting your nostrils, making your own stomach growl. You know this is one of Chan's favorites so hopefully it'll act as a peace offering.

"Oh my God. Get out! If I was hungry or if I wanted you in here, I would have called for you," he snaps at you again and pulls the headphones over his ears again, turning to face the computer screen.

You feel your face heat up more in a mix of anger and embarrassment before you slam the bowl down on the desk beside him. You try not to notice that the liquid sloshes out of the bowl slightly and lands on your hand, immediately burning you.

You turn on your heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you. By the time you reach the kitchen, angry tears are running down your face and your even angrier hands are trying to wipe them away.

Lee Know: Short tempered

You know Minho has a short temper. Everyone knows that, but it doesn't excuse him going off on you for absolutely no reason. You often are the object of his anger because you are together so much and you’re usually able to just brush his outbursts off.

However, sometimes you just can’t let them go.

"Hm?" You question, pulling your headphones off. You had seen your boyfriend talking to you but only caught the end of his sentence by the time you removed the headphones. He rolls his eyes at you, obviously annoyed.

"I hate repeating myself, y/n. You know this," he raises his eyebrows at you and you blink at him a few times, waiting for him to say whatever it was that he had said.

"I said," he starts, attitude dripping in his tone, "Do you want to go to that new restaurant for dinner tonight?" he asks and you nod.

"Yes of course. When do you wanna go?" you ask and stand up. For some reason, you miscalculated exactly how close you were to the table and your knee hits the table, knocking your glass of water over and making it roll off the table, shattering all over the floor.

"Are you kidding me? Why is it so hard for you to do simple tasks like listening and watching where you're going?" Minho snaps at you before walking towards the kitchen. You roll your eyes and opt to not reply.

You squat down to pick up the glass and somehow one of the shards cuts your finger, right where it meets your palm. You let out a hiss and drop the glass on the ground bringing your hand closer to inspect it.

The cut isn't too deep but it is in one of those spots that seems like it will never stop bleeding. You stand quickly as the blood drops from your hand and lands on your mess. As you walk towards the kitchen, you are dripping blood and don't notice.

"Did you seriously cut yourself?" Minho's tone is impatient with you again and you nod, walking towards the sink to rinse the cut out.

"Let me see it," he demands and you shake your head, letting the water run over the cut, another hiss leaving your mouth at the sting.

"Stop being so fucking stubborn," he grabs your wrist, a little too harshly, and yanks it from under the water to look at it, making you stumble into him slightly.

"Stop being so fucking mean," you reply and snatch your hand from his grip. He scoffs at you and rolls his eyes, slamming the towel that was in his hand down on the counter beside him.

"If I'm so fucking mean, then clean your own damn mess," he spits at you before leaving the room, his heavy footsteps indicating that he is making his way to your shared bedroom.

You let out a frustrated yell and grab the first aid kit from under the sink. All you did was ask him to repeat himself and drop a fucking glass and he's acting like this is the end of the world.

"Y/n! You got blood on the floor. You couldn't have at least stopped that from happening?" You hear Minho's voice again and you ignore him, not feeding into his temper anymore.

You hear his footsteps making their way towards the kitchen again and slam your hands down on the countertop, definitely making your cut bleed much more than it was before.

"You don't hear me talking to you?" He questions and you turn around facing him. A look of disgust and annoyance covers your face.

"Oh fuck off, Minho. Yell at somebody who gives a shit," You snap and push past him, letting your shoulder hit him a little too hard, and making your way to your bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind you.

Changbin: Arrogant

"Who was that?" You ask, setting your purse down as you enter you apartment. Changbin comes in behind you and helps you slide your coat off, placing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"I met her a while ago at an award show," he replies and you nod, toeing off your shoes. You aren't one to get insecure or jealous, especially with the way your man is all over you, even in public.

But something about this girl just really rubbed you the wrong way. The way he unwrapped his arm from your waist to shake her hand made your stomach flip. Her lingering touches and flirty eyes, all while you were standing right there.

"She seemed a little touchy," you comment and Changbin shrugs, ultimately disregarding your comment.

"You only met her once?" You clarify again as you follow Changbin into the bedroom to change your clothes.

"Mhm, she used to have a thing for Hyunjin I think," he comments, loosening his tie and sliding it over your head. You let out a little 'ah' and pull your dress off, replacing it with a t-shirt and sleep shorts. You make your way into the bathroom and grab a makeup wipe, starting to remove your eye makeup.

"Why are you acting so weird? You aren't jealous, are you?" Changbin's voice sounds from the doorframe and you look over at him before looking back into the mirror, shrugging.

"It isn't that I'm jealous,” you clarify, “It's more like the principle of her overstepping obvious boundaries that you wouldn't push with someone who is in a relationship," you try to explain.

"It wasn't that serious," Changbin once again shrugs off your feelings and you turn to face him, crossing your arms across your chest.

"Are you even listening to me, Bin?" your voice is laced with frustration.

"Of course I am. You're jealous because some colleague was being too nice to me," he turns to walk away and you scoff. 

"Do you listen to anything but the sound of your own damn voice?" you suddenly snap at him and he freezes before turning back around to face you. He opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he can start.

"Whenever I tell you about my feelings or try to have a conversation like this with you, you just brush it off. I'm not jealous, Changbin. It's the principle of it all. And if I was jealous, you definitely aren't doing anything to help my insecurity," your temper has ran out and his eyebrows drop into a furrow, seemingly confused about your sudden outburst.

"I just don't understand why you are coming for me like this when I didn't do anything," he says, his own tone starting to reflect yours.

"What I'm trying to say is-"

"No I get what you're trying to say. I just don't understand why you're so mad at me," he tries to clarify and you turn back towards the sink.

"Then you obviosuly don't get what I'm-"

"Y/n you need to calm down," He interrupts you and you scoff, slamming your hands down on the sink.

"Stop fucking interrupting me! You are so fucking arrogant. Oh my God! You can't even actually listen to me for five fucking minutes without having to have your own input," you snap and he takes a step towards you so you're face to face in the bathroom.

"Sometimes you're wrong, Changbin. Whether you like it or not. Get your head out of your ass," you push past him and go towards the living room.

Hyunjin: Perfectionist

Hyunjin's most toxic trait is something that has been forced upon him in his career. He is convinced that everyone, especially the public has to think that he is perfect.

The perfect man, the perfect idol, the perfect boyfriend. This sometimes causes huge strains in your relationship because you can't tell what is real and what is a facade that he is putting on for the public eye.

You and Hyunjin are on a date and got into a small argument. It wasn't even an argument as much as you were just bickering with each other. He had picked this Italian restaurant and the portions were huge so you two decided it would he best to split a dish. However you couldn't decide and started to bicker back and forth between two dishes, trying to decide which to get.

"We can literally make that at home, Hyunjin. We should get something that we can only have in an authentic restaurant like this," you try to reason and Hyunjin rolls his eyes.

"You already decided on white wine, which doesn't go with the dish you want at all," he replies and you throw your hands up a little in frustration.

"Whatever, Hyunjin. Get what you want," you snap at him and before he can snap back at you, the waitress walks up to the table. He plasters a huge fake smile on his face and tells her the order, getting what he wanted and the white wine that you wanted.

"Now everyone is happy. Stop being a crybaby," he mumbles and you scoff, pulling out your phone. Your Twitter is getting notifications and you open the app.

Someone had taken a video of you and Hyunjin in the past ten minutes and posted it to Twitter. It already had over 1000 likes and you laugh at the video.

It showed Hyunjin saying something to you before you roll your eyes and fall back into your seat, crossing your arms. Then Hyunjin runs a hand through his hair, obviously annoyed.

"What's funny?" Hyunjin's voice pulls you from the video and you look up, turning your phone to face him. The smile on your face drops when you take in Hyunjin's face, obviously not amused with the video.

His jaw clenches and he clears his throat before turning in the direction that the video seemed to be taken from. The person recording was obviously long gone and he turns back to face you, a sigh leaving his mouth.

"What's wrong?" you ask, putting your phone away and resting your chin in your hand to look at your boyfriend.

"Nothing's wrong," he mumbles and you let out a small chuckle. You already know what's wrong. You reach for Hyunjin's hand across the table and he lets you grab it.

"Jinnie, relax. It's okay! There's nothing wrong with us disagreeing from time to time. It's natural and everyone likes seeing this real and raw side of you. You know that," you try to reason and he nods as the waitress approaches the table with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

The waitress pours your wine and neither you or your boyfriend say anything besides a small 'thank you' and even after she leaves, the silence between the two of you remain. You take a sip from your glass and look over to Hyunjin. He is zoned out, his finger tracing the rim of the glass and he's focused on something on the table.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of your's?" You finally break the silence and Hyunjin's eyes shoot up to meet yours immediately.

"That looks like we don't like each other," he mutters in a small voice, not much more than a whisper. You let out a sigh and adjust in your seat, uncrossing your legs and leaning towards your boyfriend. Before you can say anything, he's shaking his head at you.

"Stop it. Your body language is weird. Now we know someone is watching us, we need to act like we like each other," he speaks up, his eyes darting around the restaurant. You feel a little pang in your chest at his words and suck in a sharp breath.

"Act like we like each other?" You inquire, an eyebrow raised. He shoos you with his hand, still looking around the room.

"You know what I mean, y/n. Let's not start a scene. We have already caused one," he dismisses you and you scoff, taking the napkin from your lap and slamming it on the table.

"Whatever, Hyunjin. I'll give them something to spectate about," you spit at him and stand from the table. You grab your belongings and turn, making a beeline for the door. You barely hear Hyunjin calling in a whisper yell behind you before you reach the door and pull out your phone, ready to call a cab.

Han: Wandering eyes

Your first thought when you get to your house is to turn on the T.V. and see your stunning boyfriend at his award show. Your relationship was still under wraps so you weren't allowed to join him at his award show, at least not yet. You turn on the T.V. and realize you missed their red carpet so you take to Twitter to see what you missed.

Before you can even type his name into the search bar, you see that under trending is your boyfriend's name. He must have looked really good if he's trending away from his group. You click on the 'Han Jisung' hashtag and your heart immediately drops.

He wasn't trending because of how good he looks, he's trending because he was caught by a million cameras checking out another idol. Bile creeps its way into your throat and the tears spring to your eyes before you can even stop them.

This may seem like an overreaction to most, but this is not the first time that your boyfriend has been trending for his wandering eyes and flirty behavior. Just a week ago you two had gotten in a huge fight about how just because you're a secret, doesn't mean he needs to act single.

You thought that it got through to him but it obviously went in one ear and right out of the other. You lock your phone and frustratedly slam it down on the couch beside you. You let out a groan and let your head fall into your hands.

"Han fucking Jisung," you whisper out to yourself. You fall back against the couch and cross your arms over your chest before deciding to train your eyes on the ceiling. It only lasts about a minute until tears have started running down your face.

About two hours later, you hear the front door of your apartment open and you roll over in bed, not ready to explain to your boyfriend why your eyes are so puffy and red. He obviously didn't go to the after party so that gives you a little reassurance, but not much.

"Baby? Are you asleep?" you hear your boyfriend's voice and pull the blanket tighter around your chin before shaking your head. You hear him make his way over to the bed and he places a kiss to the side of your head. He smells like his shampoo and soap which means he either showered at the venue or went home before coming to see you.

"Did you watch the show?" he asks and you feel all of your emotions over the situation bubble to the surface. You let out a scoff.

"No, Jisung. I was too busy scrolling through your trending video from a million different angles," you reply coldly. He doesn't seem to pick up on your tone well and settles in the bed behind you.

"I'm trending?" there is pure excitement in his voice and you almost feel bad for him. Almost. You sit up straight in the bed and turn to face him. His bare face is illuminated by the faint glow of street lights outside your window and he really does look stunning. If you weren't so upset with him, you would surely be jumping his bones.

"Yeah. You're trending. Not for what you, your company, or your devoted girlfriend would like you to be trending for, however," you snap at him and grab your phone from the side table. You pull up his name under trending and toss your phone at him.

He flips it and you see him obviously scrolling through the tweets. His eyebrows are dropped in focus before they relax and a small smirk takes over his face, making your jaw drop.

"Does this make you happy, Jisung?" you question, hostility dripping from your tone. His eyes dart up to yours before they're back on the phone again. You glance over at your screen and see that he is watching a video of himself that is from an angle that you can see the exact asset he was assessing on the singer.

"You have got to be kidding me," you snarl at him and stand from the bed, ready to sleep in the living room.

"What? Can you blame me? She has a nice-"

"You have a girlfriend!" you interrupt him, your tone much more hostile than you intended and he's slightly taken aback.

"I know! I'm a guy. What do you expect?" his absurd defense just pisses you off more and you can't help clenching your jaw. He locks your phone and throws it onto the bed next to you.

"You are unbelievable." You spit before storming out of the room.

Felix: Belittling you/making you feel inferior

You sigh again. Your work computer has been acting up and you have done everything you can to try to make it work. You're trying your absolute best to not have to resort to calling your IT desk at work, but it seems to be your only option.

"That's one sigh too many. What's eating you?" you hear your boyfriend's voice behind you, giving you some comfort but frustration still racks your body.

"My computer is being dumb and I really don't want to have to call IT. I've tried everything I can think of and it still won't work!" you exclaim out, slamming your hands down on the desk. You feel his hands start to massage your shoulders and a gentle kiss is placed to your temple, obviously trying to calm you down.

"I just don't know what to do, Lix. On top of that, I have a report that I need to present on Friday!" you complain again and tilt your head back to look at Felix. He turns his attention from the computer screen down to you and presses a quick kiss to your lips.

"Do you want me to have a look at it?" He asks and you shake your head before sitting back up to look at the screen again.

"In all honesty, I just want to go to bed and not even think about this mess anymore," you confess and rest your head in the palm of your hand.

"Have you tried plugging it in?" Felix asks and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You were already frustrated and you don't want to be sent over the edge and snap at your boyfriend.

"Yes, Felix. I tried to plug it in," you reply but the exasperation in your voice is impossible to miss. You run your hand through the front of your hair and sit back up again, ready to try a few more things so you can work on your project.

"Have you tried restarting it?" It was meant to come out as a helpful question but you can't stop the scoff that leaves your mouth in response.

"I'm not an idiot, Felix," you snap at him but he doesn't say anything else for a few beats of silence.

"Did you put it to sleep or hard reset it? Do you know the difference?" he asks and you turn in your chair immediately to face him. Maybe it was the underlying belittling in his tone that sends you over the edge but you all but spit out your next response.

"Actually, Felix, I do know the difference and you are so not being helpful at all right now and in all honesty, you're pissing me the fuck off," you stare at your boyfriend, who is obviously taken aback by your outburst.

"How am I pissing you off?" he questions and you stand, letting out a humorless laugh. You turn and close your laptop before making your way over to your bed.

"You keep talking to me like I'm some kind of idiot. I'm not dumb, y'know? You always do this if you think you know more than me about a topic," you rant and he raises an eyebrow at you, still confused. You roll your eyes and slide under the blanket, turning your back to him.

"Whatever, Felix. Goodnight," you snap but it doesn't take long for you to feel the bed behind you dip from his weight.

"Don't go to sleep mad, angel," he reaches out to touch your shoulder but you shake his hand off. You turn to face him and regret fills your body at the face he is giving you. He looks like a guilty puppy and you let out a sigh. You lean over and press a quick kiss to his pouty lips before pulling back.

"I'm not mad. I'm just..." you pause, searching the ceiling for the right word, "Annoyed, frustrated, tired. I just want to go to sleep and we can talk in the morning. Sound good?" you try to reason and he nods but the sad puppy look is still plastered on his face.

Seungmin: Cruel

Seungmin loves you. So much. More than he has loved anyone else before. He knows it, you know it, his friends and family know it. However, sometimes he isn't as nice to you as he probably should be.

It isn't always what he is saying or his actions, as much as it's his tone. Today is one of Seungmin's more unkind days and you noticed it as soon as you woke up. He spent the night at your house last night so it was nice to see your boyfriend first thing in the morning.

He is always up before you and today was just like any other day. When you open your eyes, they're met with the chocolate ones of your adorable boyfriend. You hug him a little closer and he grumbles at you, his morning cranky still evident.

"Good morning," you whisper out, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw line. He mumbles back a quiet response and you try to pull him closer to you, wanting to savor the cuddle a bit more but Seungmin's body stiffens, pushing you away.

" 'S too hot," he groans and pushes you away completely, getting up from bed. You whine at him and he chuckles slightly, heading towards the bathroom. You get up and follow him, running your nails up his back.

"I love you," you speak out again, voice still raspy, before placing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. You want so badly to wrap your arms around his waist and relish in his warmth for a little longer but you refrain.

Seungmin glances at you through the mirror and you stare back, waiting for him to mirror the same words back to you. He puts his toothbrush in his mouth and a frown finds its way onto your lips. He notices and pulls his toothbrush from him mouth.

"Love you too," he shortly replies and it stings a little. Not only did he not say 'I' but the response was robotic, rehearsed. It felt like it was what he was supposed to say more than an expression of his feelings. It seemed like he didn’t even want to admit he loved you in all honesty.

Later that same day, you find him on the couch and plop down next to him. He glances over at you then back to the T.V. again so you scoot closer. He has been neglecting you all day and you finally found the perfect opportunity to cuddle up with your boyfriend.

You silently hoped that a good cuddle would make up for him hurting your feelings earlier and would offer you some much needed reassurance. You wrap your arm around your boyfriend's arm and place your cheek on his shoulder. You immediately feel him shift away from you and your heart drops.

"Do you have to sit so close to me? I don't feel like being touched right now," his evident irritation is enough to make tears want to spring to your eyes. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry out of embarrassment and the rejection of your boyfriend.

"You're being mean," you mumble out as you push away from him and settle onto the other side of the couch, turning your attention to the T.V. instead.

"How am I being mean? Maybe you're just being too sensitive," he shrugs before standing from the couch and grabbing his glass from the coffee table.

"Seungmin," you warn but he doesn't listen, instead walking into the kitchen to refill his glass. Your eyes burn with the tears that are begging to spill so you stand and decide to go take a shower to cry by yourself.

"Where are you going?" Seungmin's voice rings behind you and you feel the first tear fall so you decide its best not to turn around.

"Shower," you mumble out and continue walking towards your bathroom. You can't help the sniffle you let out as more tears fall and you quickly step into the bathroom and turn the shower water on as more tears fall from your eyes.

I.N: Gets distant

"How is Innie doing?" Your best friend asks over the phone and you bite down on your lip. She knows when you're lying and will call you out on it so you opt for a more neutral answer.

"Busy. How is your boyfriend?" you quickly try to change the topic but she is much smarter than you're giving her credit for and doesn't let you switch the conversation.

"He's doing it again, isn't he?" she questions, her voice full of sympathy and you can't stop the sigh that leaves your lips. Too ashamed to admit out loud that your boyfriend has went distant on you again, you just nod.

"Babe, you can't keep letting him do this to you! You need to put your foot down," she insists over the phone, obviously frustrated with your boyfriend's antics. It may seem like you aren't frustrated to everyone else, but that couldn't be further from the truth

You hate when Jeongin decides to disappear and not talk to you for days on end. You hate when he comes back and acts like nothing happened. You hate how defensive he gets when you call him out on it. You hate it.

You open your mouth to reply when you hear your lock code being punched into your door. You sit up on the couch as soon as the door opens, revealing a very tired looking Jeongin.

"Hold on. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? We spoke him up," you look at your best friend through the screen and she shakes her head muttering a quick 'love you, make good decisions' then ending the call. You look over at your boyfriend and he walks towards the couch, immediately crawling in between your legs and placing his head on your chest.

His arms wrap around your waist and you let out a sigh, laying back on the couch so your boyfriend can lay on you. You reach up and run a hand through his hair, getting a whiff of his shampoo.

"I missed you," he mutters against your chest and squeezes you a little tighter. You let out a breathy chuckle.

"And whose fault is that?" you reply quietly, still working your fingers through the tangles in his hair. He stiffens a bit on top of you then turns his head to rest his chin on your chest. You lock eyes and feel like you could melt into him.

"I've been busy," he tries to excuse but barely a beat passes before you reply.

"You could've told me," this is usually how these conversations go. You would let him reply at this point but your best friend's words are ringing through your ears, 'you need to put your foot down'. So you take a deep breath and speak again before he gets the chance.

"It's been a week, Jeongin. I haven't gotten a text, a call, a visit, nothing. It has been seven days. You do know you're my boyfriend, right?" you ask and his eyes drop for a second before meeting yours again.

"I said I've been busy," he repeats himself and you shake your head, sitting up and forcing him to sit up as well.

"I said you could've told me. How hard would it be to take 30 seconds from your busy schedule to send me a text and tell me you're busy or you miss or you love me or...anything at all!" you finish the sentence, throwing your hands in the air.

"Why are you being so demanding? You know distance makes the heart grow fonder," he tries to defend himself once again and you scoff. You stand from the couch, moving to the chair to try to create space between the two of you.

"Don't try this bullshit with me, Yang Jeongin. If you don't want to be together anymore then let me know now. Don't disappear on me and claim you need space. We're adults. Act like it," you point an accusatory finger at him and he stands, now towering over your seated figure.

"Why are you trying to force me to break up with you? Do you not want to be together anymore?" he flips the question on you, anger in his voice. You open your mouth to answer but honestly, you don't even know the answer. So you tell him just that.

"Honestly, Innie, I don't even know anymore," you whisper out, looking down at your hands. You're picking at your fingers as silence falls on the room. Then before you know it, Jeongin's knees buckle and he's on his knees in front of you, his face in his hands and his body shaking with the violence of his sobs.

"I-I," he tries to speak but you stop him, dropping to your knees as well and pressing your forehead to his. You let your eyes fall closed as his tears soak your hands. Before you know it, tears are leaving your eyes as well.

"I don't want to break up," he whispers out and your eyes open to find his already trained on yours. You let silence fall between you two for a minute, just looking into each others eyes before you let out a sigh.

"I think you should leave," you finally speak up, breaking the silence.

[twst-rose-prisms]

Hi! Can i ask for some preference for the twst boys? Like who would want a cute/naive s!o, who would want smart/ sexy s!o, silly/goofy one or something like that? Just the guys preference in s!o ? Thanks!

Hi hi~ First of all, I'm super sorry for not answering for a long long time cuz I was out of this blog and fandom 😭 If you're still active then this one is for you my amazing rosie! My first request ever so I'm still learning bu~t I tried my best! (shout out to my bestie for helping me a ton with this 🙏🙏) Btw I'm separating this into 3 parts so it won't be too long~

Twst boys preference for their partner

Characters: All NRC students (except Ortho) x Reader Genre: Fluff Reminder: This is just a headcanon post, so even if you aren't your loved one's preference, do not worry! Remember, love might have preference, but it's never the final thing that decides one's partner, so rest assured~ Your lovely twst boys love you no matter what 🌹❤️ Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (coming soon)

🌹 Riddle 🌹

- He would definitely like someone who is responsible and serious about their work just like himself. He admires it whenever they're strict to follow the rules and understand the importance of it like how he is as well. Seeing how diligent they are about their schoolwork would also earn a good impression from the housewarden himself, even better if they're a decently knowledgeable person. - Though he probably needs someone who's always there in his most tired, vulnerable moment too; someone who will comfort him, tell him that he did well, etc. just be there to whisper sweet words, like how hardworking he was on that day, he'll melt into their embrace almost immediately. Let him rest his head on your shoulder or chest, slowly drifting off from tiredness yet his face looks so peaceful and content... Your warmth and gentleness are something he definitely needs after everything that he endured and went through. Of course, those moments are rare since he need to put on a front being a honor student and a dorm leader, so be sure to stick by his side to catch it. - He needs a s/o who can tell him to get loose and take breaks occasionally too, due to how he always being strict on himself. Or whenever he gets angry, they'll be there to calm him down so he won't start an outburst knowing how easily angry he can get. - He isn't really keen on appearance too much, but he would prefer it if his s/o know how to dress properly and formally enough. He is a housewarden after all, so a partner that dress as good as him is enough for a great impression towards Riddle. No need for such things like super fancy make-up or expensive jewelries. - Bonus: if his s/o knows how to bake, surprise him his with favorite sweet strawberry tart occasionally! He'll be pretty flustered that they put so much love and effort into this beautiful tart and would just melt internally, and every bite would taste like heaven for sure 💖

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♥️ Ace ♥️

- He's definitely into people who know how to make jokes or have fun, it's one of the most important things to create impressions toward a guy like him after all! It never hurts to let loose and have fun once in a while y'know. - Though it doesn't have to be someone fun all the time, it could just be someone who could be able to keep up with his shenanigans most of the time or just know how to get loose instead of being uptight or serious. Of course, that doesn't mean letting this guy commit whatever horrible thing he's about to do, his s/o has an important mission and that is to stop him from getting scolded again by the teachers! - He's definitely an appearance type of guy, I mean, just guys being guys y'know; he's probably into cute, cheerful type or maybe a bit girly. But his s/o doesn't have to appear to his taste entirely, just someone being confident enough in their look also earns a point from him too! Giving him a big, goofy grin while making funny hand sings definitely would earn a laugh out of this guy for sure. - Because he's a rather mischievous type of guy, his s/o could be someone who can keep up with it. Or even better, being teasing or joking back at him, it would catch him off guard his s/o actually followed along and that would definitely want him to get their attention. The more unexpected they're around him, the more he would want their attention since he thought they're the most interesting person he has ever encountered! (He won't admit that it's because he falls for them though) - Bonus: One way to get his affection is to watch him playing basketball, like cheering him on or patiently waiting for the match to be over. Just imagine his reaction when you give him a cheerful grin and give him a cool drink as a way to tell him he did well! I'm sure you've earned a spot in his heart at that moment 💖

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♠️ Deuce ♠️

- Because he used to be a rumble delinquent, he probably needs a s/o that would accept his past and encourage him to not be scared, because they'll accept him for who he is no matter what, and that's what he's looking for the most in his partner because he too, want someone to tell him that it's okay to have a bad past, but what matter is how he is himself now and they love him for it~ - No matter how he acts, specifically, whenever he switches to his delinquent mode by accident in front of his s/o, he doesn't want you to be scared or avoid him because of it. That is the last thing he ever wanted - to hurt his partner. And if you saw his "bad boy" mode by accident, be sure to reassure him that you are totally alright with it and it won't drive you away! - He will admire a s/o who is diligent, smart and hardworking, since he is also a hardworking person after all. If his s/o is someone that shows their knowledge in a way that goes "Oh, I read this in a book that..." then our boy is gonna be super impressed! He loves it when you also talk about something you like too and share your knowledge with him, he'll always be ready to listen just to be impressed all over again like the first time. Since he's a slow learner, it would also be great if you could be patient and teach him things that he asks you, don't worry, he is very attentive, especially since it's you being his tutor after all. - He'll probably like it if his s/o is someone strong physically, even better if they don't appear like it; just imagine the astonished look on his face when he sees them easily carry heavy things despite their appearance! He'll be impressed but in another way (if you get what I mean...) - Bonus: If his s/o is someone who can take the lead or initiate a relationship then it's definitely something that will make him melt! Like just imagine if they kiss him or hold his hand suddenly, just being surprisingly affectionate and he'll become a blob! He might not admit it, but it's probably something that he's into, considering how easily flustered he can get when it comes to things like romance 💖

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♣️ Trey ♣️

- I think that out of all the twst characters, Trey is the most easy-going when it comes to partner preference. He's pretty open to any type of people so to him, preference isn't something that he keen on too much, also since he's taking care of everyone most of the time or being the older brother figure, you can expect him to be the perfect, caring boyfriend~ - Though I think he would have special feelings more towards people that are mature with a somewhat older siblings vibe that is capable of taking care of others just like him. He might not appear like it, but he would really appreciate it if he's the one receiving instead of the other way around once in a while, it's the most effective way towards his heart! - It doesn't have to be a s/o that's mature or has an older sibling vibe all the time, they can also just be someone really sweet and supportive. Actively helping him out in the kitchen or tagging along with him in school, that is enough to tell him how affectionate they are towards him, and he too, would be affectionate back towards them. - Perhaps it could also be a s/o that likes hearing jokes or easy-going like him too. Occasionally, he would joke around or make small teases, and if his s/o replied with a laugh or just showed how much they're having fun around him, he would feel really relieved that they love this side of him too, since not many people can take jokes well or sometimes they would even take it seriously. (Ex: the Walrus seal oyster sauce joke) - Bonus: If his s/o is someone who loves sweets then get ready for a gift full of sweetness (literally and figuratively) delivered to them almost everyday! Simply complimenting how delicious they're with a happy expression and that would be enough to earn a heart point from Trey! Even more if his s/o gives him something that they baked themselves as a gift, I'm sure he'll treasure every single little bite with how much effort they put into them 💖

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♦️ Cater ♦️

- Because he's a trendy, fun loving person, I think he would definitely like a s/o that is a fun fellow to be around him! Even better if they also like trendy things; just imagine you guys talking for hours and hours about the latest trends and how do you 2 can follow it, especially those couple trends on magicam. - But of course, it doesn't have to be someone with the same preference as him, it could just be someone chill and easygoing too. If his s/o is a curious, attentive person then he'll definitely love sharing his interests and all the latest trends if they ask him. They don't have to follow it, the way they give him a curious cute look while listening to him talking is already enough to show how much they care about him, and he would be so into them! - He's still overall a chill person that wanna take it easy, so he probably would like his s/o to be the same as him too. Sometimes, just a comfortable silence between the two of you would be enough as he scrolls through his phone casually, with your head on his shoulder or vice versa. - He might have a few preferences when it comes to appearance, such as a cute, trendy or confident s/o who knows how to style themselves. It's totally okay if they're someone more casual, but a well-dressed appearance is if not, a must if you want to impress him first hand. - Bonus: I think Cater is not a person who falls in love easily, but if his s/o tell him how much they love him with a genuine expression, eyes full of sincerity like they really, really mean it, then he'll fall more than just hard~ He probably received a lot of compliments before but none probably meant genuine for him, until he meets someone as amazing as you 💖

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🦁 Leona 🦁

- Oh, you're pretty daring enough if you wanna date someone like him. I mean, he's the housewarden of Savanaclaw we're talking about here, a real lion prince, if you managed to get his heart then I'd say you're already pretty great yourself! I mean, you already saw how others think of him with their tails in between their legs... - Though, if we're talking about preference, he would definitely like someone who won't be noisy and interrupt his precious napping time. Maybe someone that lets him lay down on their lap, stroking his hair or his fluffy ears while he's sleeping. He might deny it but those low purrs and growls are telling a whole different story. Sometimes he could also use them as a great pillow to hug too, with his head on your chest and arm wrapped around your frame, just be prepared for staying like that for the next 3 hours though... - He would find naive s/o interesting too, so easy to mess around and tease, their expression is truly entertaining to watch with the way their round eyes look astonished, then blush brightly from the way he tease them. Like a lion messing around with the little naive herbivore~ He could never get enough or tired of it. - Maybe he would also like a s/o that can be bold or challenging at the right time. Surprises are a welcoming thing, and Leona isn't an exception to it. A somewhat teasing, flirty relationship between you two would be entertaining and also something fun that he would seek for, he does like it when his "prey" fight back after all, though he'll just eat them up in the end like a lion he is. (interpret it as however you want...) - Bonus: One way to really catch the lion prince off-guard is outsmarting him. Pretty hard to do considering how Leona is, I know, but once your wits manage to catch him by the tail, he'll be pretty surprised his s/o is someone more than just his expectation. Maybe acting a little bit daring while we're at it, but I'm sure that he knows how special his s/o is and that no one else is like them 💖

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🐆 Ruggie 🐆

- I think for Ruggie, he probably would prefer a s/o that is smart and witty like him, maybe even better if they're street smart too as he'll be very impressed someone is the same as him. After all, people who have great practical skills can't be someone lazy from a spoiled, rich family right? Don't get him wrong, he didn't mean bad things, but it's just so because he grew up in such an environment, you couldn't blame him for thinking like that. - Though of course, it doesn't have to be someone like him, it could just be a s/o that likes to take care of others or be very supportive too. They can help him out with his errands; expect him to ask if you want anything in return though, since it has been his mindset for a long time now. But hey, if you help him enough in a sincere way without asking for something else, he might start to open his heart to you a bit and trust you more...? Everything takes time including love after all, so be patient~ - Another preference he would like maybe a somewhat naive s/o. Teasing them is nothing but fun for a cunning hyena like him. I mean, he could also use this chance to impress him with his skills in a way too, their face is just so entertaining to watch, but he probably warns them to be careful or bad people gonna get to them easily~ (ex: Ruggie himself) - Because Ruggie grew up really poor, he is someone who treasures and treats food way more important than normal people would, so if his s/o is someone who knows how to cook then he'd feel like he just stepped into heaven~ I mean, just imagine the happy but surprised face when they feed him such luxurious handmade food that they put so much love into, he feels like he's eating a buffet! His s/o could also make lunch for him daily as well, you two could share together as you feed him your homemade food, and his round ears would twitch in happiness for sure. - Bonus: Something sweet, surprising and genuine would be the best way to get his heart. For example, a bag full of warm, fluffy donuts would do! He loves those sweet treats a lot, so if you have free time be sure to bake some for him alright? As there's a phrase goes "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" after all 💖

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🐺 Jack 🐺

- He would like someone very responsible about themselves and take their work seriously and fairly with no underhanded methods or cheating. Seeing how diligent they are, he definitely would think his s/o is a great and respectful person to be with. I think if they recognize him and compliment him back, that will get him flustered too, though he might deny it with a grumpy expression. (He's just being a bit of a "tsundere" as you call it) - Someone with a moral worthy of his respect is also one of his preferences too. Do try to not misunderstand his coldness, he's a real softie deep down, so if you act kind towards him with no ill intent whatsoever, he'll quickly understand what kind of a person you are and won't be cold towards you much the more you two hanging out... and maybe it'll turn into something more precious than just friendship~ - Once you earn his respect, he'll become your biggest protector that you can imagine. Nobody will dare to mess around with you once you have a giant bodyguard like him tagging along. If his s/o is a bit of a tease and affectionate person, remember to thank him with small pecks on the cheek or a hug, our wolf boy would be pretty flustered with a wagging tail! Speaking of that, he wouldn't mind a bit of a tease too since I think he would like it. (Although he'll deny it again or so) - He isn't an appearance type of person, but if his s/o is someone smaller or shorter than him then his protecting instinct would happen more often. Also, it's cute when your smaller frame tries to wrap both arms around his bigger one, he would unconsciously feel flustered but also found it a bit cute. - Bonus: While it might sound a bit rude to him... or not, but I think if his s/o treats him like he's a big, cuddly and fluffy dog he would get super flustered. Like imagine you give him a big, cute grin while petting his big ears or his super poofy fluffy tail, oh the wolf boy would be so "tsun" about it. His s/o is the only one who can touch his tail or brush it! It's also a way to show affection towards a big wolf like him too, so don't hold back 💖

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To be continued! Stay tuned for part 2~

[iznsfw]

Ms. Kang Hyewon

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 3 - Kang Hyewon

IZ*ONE's Kang Hyewon x Male Reader Smut

9,122 words

Categories | femdom, mommy kink, degradation, angry sex, choking

Content warning | blackmail, degradation, Hyewon isn't so innocent here

Well, well, well, look who came back with Day 3.

My promise remains. Expect more, but on separate days. I won't run away with your money like a certain pre-

Thread isn’t claustrophobic. It slips through spaces not even your fingernail could pierce apart. Effortlessly, too. It isn’t afraid of being knotted up. It just needs guidance: a pinch to lead it through the eye and a pull to seam it through the hem. 

You wish you wielded the same fearlessness. It’s thinner and more fragile than you (highly debated) yet it’s hardened to its life. The only thing you’re granted as a similarity to it is the need for guidance, not all of that shit about courage. 

Maybe that’s why you became a fashion designer. 

Needles have their own strengths, too. They’re not cowards to inflicting pain for aesthetics. Why do you think they stab so effortlessly through fabric and silk and skin and whatnot? They sharpen themselves through softness, and all that edge goes straight into the process.

And sometimes, your fingers.

“Fuck.” Your reverie is broken at last. From your thumb, a trail of red leaks. You’re used to the minor cuts and wounds, but the blood really does something to you. It reminds you of how fragile human anatomy is. One uncalculated move can end it all. 

“You good?” asks Eunbi. 

Suck on your thumb. A metallic taste settles over your tongue. She peers at you curiously; wave your hand at her dismissively to tell her it’s fine. This is everyday for you, like you said. Your heart will pump anxiously but that goes away, too. It’s all a vestige of time.

Flatten the vest top on the table. Wait, it’s not exactly a top yet if fringes of thread splay from the edges. You still have to work on that. Nothing is something when it’s not completed. It’s either you finish it grandly or leave it in pathetic tatters. 

“You sure you're okay?”

“Just a little nervous,” you reply. 

“I mean,” Eunbi laughs as she fixes her short hair into a ponytail, “she is Kang Hyewon.”

Not that she needs to remind you. Your nerves are in a wreck already. You’ve been replaying the pros of the situation in your head like a favorite song. Working for Hyewon would look good in your resumés. If time sees fit, you’d have your own line and everyone would want to wear it. Your name could be a staple of fashion, the god of gods. Something like that.

It only sucks that you’re painfully new to this world. This is the first time you’re this far from your family and friends. Seoul’s a far cry from your humble town. It’s the home of everything that matters. Nights of staying up drawing and designing couldn’t harden you for an industry that sways and shakes out the unfit.

This is your chance to find out if you’re one of them.

“The superstar who’s about to wear my shitty clothes.”

“They’re anything but shitty. You have seriously good ideas.” Always, Eunbi comes in to reassure you. That’s why you see her as a mentor. “She wouldn’t turn down wearing couture if she didn’t see potential in what you make.”

See, you would never have agreed to any of this. You’re a fresh graduate from some fashion school, and the only models you’ve worked on are the runway rejects. Fixing a sloppy first draft on a stick-thin, soulless girl is different from designing and dressing up Kang Hyewon. 

She’s everything—model, actress, singer, and idol. She’s a gem for every brand out there. They’re all dying to get her to be their ambassador. Every director with a complete brain wants to cast her for their new drama. 

And it’s her who can lift you to heights in your career. So you’d be an idiot not to seal the deal.

“Have you worked with her before?”

As your needle sews a story of fabric, Eunbi’s words whittle her story with Hyewon. Turns out, this is only her second time working with the star. She confirms that Hyewon is truly gorgeous in person with those god-given full lips and hardset eyes. 

Apparently, first impressions are right after all when it’s with her—she’s a silent, withholding woman who doesn’t talk outside of necessity. Eunbi tells you her nerves were in knots the first time, but also informs you that as long as you do your job for her properly, there isn’t gonna be any problem.

“Just be careful in what you do and say,” Eunbi whispers. She peeks over at your nearly finished piece. “That’s turning out really nice, by the way.”

“Thanks.” 

Look proudly at your handiwork. It’s a sleeveless top fashioned from denim, with a V-shaped curve at the stomach. You’ve attached strips of more denim on the front that are sewn on with threads that match the blue of the ocean, embedded into the chest to prevent dullness. You think it’s turning out pretty good, too.

You would’ve gone on smiling if it weren’t for what you remembered. “Wait, why do I have to be careful?”

“She’s not, like, shy or anything. Just really unfiltered when it comes to feedback. She told me the eyeliner I did on her was shit, and that I shouldn’t come back if I planned on doing that again.”

Doubts about the beauty of your design rise. It might look good in your eyes, but what if it doesn’t in hers? She’d probably see the lack of color and call it a monstrosity. She’s got the type of power to get away with brutal words, to leave your little self-confidence in pieces.

The leg-hugging jeans and vest now look painfully average to you. There’s no debating that she’d look good in it, but there’s that constant back-and-forth argument in your head about whether or not Hyewon would like it. 

“Were you hurt?” you ask.

Eunbi wipes red lipstick from the edges of her mouth with the mirror’s reflection as guidance, then smiles. “She’s the kind of woman I’d let do more than hurt me.”

-

You don’t know what that was about, but you’re not one to pry. You don’t have the time anyway.

Assistants have poured into the room. It’s your sign to put in more work—their arrival means that Hyewon is about to come very soon. They’re all dressed in their uniforms, the kind that looks good but not too good that it takes away the fact that they’re just staff. 

Eunbi shifts her weight from one stiletto to another. “Are you done?” she asks. She gazes over at your sewing as she taps anxious rhythms on the vanity table. Notice how she’s taken off her acrylics and in turn shows her cruelly bitten fingernails. 

You huff. “I’m trying.” 

Stick a red-studded pin through the denim to keep the vest in place. What shade of blue did you use again? Staring for lengthy minutes at your messy table doesn’t help you find it. Your chalks have left pink powder on the wood. Your threads are unspooled and everywhere. In the midst of it all, the star’s vest sits, still waiting to be finished. 

“She’s getting here in five!” Yena shouts.

“Any updates there?” Eunbi says pleadingly to you, eyes full of tears.

“I said I’m trying, Eunbi.”

“Then try harder, fuck!” 

Her hands have abandoned their rhythms and are squeezed up into tiny, helpless fists. She keeps peeking out of the dressing room as if she’d die on the spot if Hyewon were there already. This is the first time you’ve seen Eunbi this beside herself. Even her crew is shocked. Her fear infects them too and now all sets of scared eyes are on you. They’re depending on your speed for their careers. If you fall short, they fall short, too. It’s a domino effect of failure. 

Yena pushes aside the hangers of clothing to frisk for the makeup kit. Chaeyeon has her hands in her air while Minju whimpers behind her. They all know one thing for sure: you’re never gonna finish on time.

Your needle fits and slips, fits and slips, fits and slips—

“Can’t you go any faster?” cries out Eunbi.

The thread almost pulls the rest of the fabric along it when you pull furiously. “Unless you want me to get stabbed in the fucking wrist,” you say, “I can’t.”

You prick yourself multiple times trying to speed up. Push the layered denim down. It’s like drowning a needle, letting it go up from the waves of clothes for air, then drowning it again. However, you don’t care for any casualties right now. You don’t care for deaths either. All you want is to do is finish this piece.

You hear three short knocks on the door. Your world stops, but your sewing doesn’t. You can do this. You can still make it look somehow finished. 

“Ms. Kang!” 

Curl.

Thread. 

Knot.

You’re done. It’s safe to turn around.

All of the women along with Eunbi have bowed deeply. Standing in front of them is the straight-postured form of the adored celebrity. The assistants look like they’re an estranged cult of some sorts who’s worshiping a goddess who’s come to earth.

Strangely, you find out that, as you stare at Kang Hyewon, you understand.

You can now grasp the idea why she’s ventured into so many fields: she can do it all. She can be it all.

Her hair is as black as night, and so are her irises. Her expression tells you no background, not even of a troublesome drive or a good meal. No, not any of that, for Hyewon’s face is a serious little look of professionalism. It’s the kind people of her status wear—celebrated doctors, movie stars, activists. But for some reason, it looks so much hotter on her. 

It would take skilled mathematicians and scientists to find out what’s behind her neutral expression, but it doesn’t take a degree to know that she’s downright beautiful.

The pictures her dedicated fansites take of her truly don’t do justice to her attractiveness. Her face is smaller than a child’s. The nonchalant stare in her eyes makes her look out of this world, which could be said too for her preppy clothes. She’s a fashion icon for the younger generation after all.

A natural pair of plump lips doesn’t show a sign of a smile. Nevertheless, she’s a beautiful woman. You assume that it’s how it is for her everyday, just like drawing is your daily routine.

“Hello.” Hyewon’s voice is surprisingly feminine yet husky. She looks at you all indifferently, then places her bag on a nearby chair. Each action of hers is minimal and measured.

“Would you like to get dressed, Ms. Kang?” asks Eunbi, her voice a pitch too high.

She nods.

You hand over the jeans and shirt. Make a beeline for the exit. There’s a reason why an all-female staff was hired for Hyewon. You were taught in school that you best not dress them up directly if they’re a celebrity and you aren’t known in the industry yet. There’s all the reason to fear: hidden cameras and microphones, leaked footage, the like. While you’re not a man whose intentions are dark, you still follow protocol.

“What are you running away for?” 

Your shoes stop paving the way to the door. Was that Hyewon? “What?” you say.

Eunbi winces. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. You don’t state that in that tone to a woman of that class.

Hyewon sighs audibly. “Can you look me in the eyes when I talk to you?”

You’re cold yet trepidation prickles your skin like fire. Slowly, almost comically, turn around. Her coat is off, leaving her in a skirt and a sleeveless undershirt on which she’s crossed her arms above. So how can you look at her directly? That body of hers is shockingly easy on the eyes.

“You’re the fashion designer, right?” she asks. 

Smile awkwardly. “I, uh—”

“Then why are you leaving? Come over here and help me. I want to see if you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m, a little, uh, actually—”

“You’re actually what?”

Your mouth’s dry. Eunbi and her crew look too scared to remind her that you’re an amateur. You haven’t dressed up a star and you definitely aren’t a professional. 

But what can you do? Look at her—a woman who could crumble your career into shards if she said so and blacklist you from the industry forever—and tell her no? 

So, you approach.

Is it a blessing that you’re granted the honors of removing her underclothes? Or a curse? 

As you undress her, you’re given the affirmation that her body is more than easy on the eyes. It’s fucking to die for. Her waist isn’t concerningly tiny, but shows a defined curve that elevates to her torso. Her breasts are large for her frame, barely fitting the size of her lace bra.

“Woah, what are you doing?” you say, eyes wide at Eunbi suddenly unclasping said bra. You feel like a Victorian man catching sight of ankles.

Eunbi looks confused. “Didn’t you say a bra would ruin the look? And that we should use nipple tape?”

Hyewon stares at her, then looks at you, waiting for an answer. 

“Oh, right.” You chuckle tensely. “Sorry.”

Your lips are pursed to keep you from hissing in embarrassment. Now you probably look like a creep. Your fright and wariness are taking control, and you have no idea what to do. 

You conveniently close your eyes when the bra’s taken off. Take the vest from Yena and raise it above Hyewon’s head. No matter what, you’ll keep your eyes up. Not below, where her breasts are sure to catch you off guard; not to the side, where they might be assuming you’re everything bad; but up. Nowhere else.

“It looks beautiful on you.” Minju’s smile is less nervous now that the job is done. 

Her remark is nothing short of the truth. The garment slips onto Hyewon’s body like water. The defined carve of her clavicle stands out above the conservative neckline. Still, her bare arms alone will already have people thinking of something. The jeans accentuate her slim long legs elevated by a pair of expensive heels. She doesn’t need makeup to look good in what you sewed for her. Her body and face do the job. 

Hyewon doesn't respond to the compliment. She simply sits down on the swivel makeup chair, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone. Her thumbs twiddle with a game you’ve seen her advertise before. She’s true to her endorsements.

Minju carefully fills the brims of her eyelids with sharp cat eyeliner. Hyewon still doesn’t look up from her phone. You guess she’s used to people adapting to her and not the other way around. 

You like the touch of the fierce red lipstick Eunbi applies on her later on. It’s a bold statement, something that goes like: It’s me, Kang Hyewon; this is the face of a woman who can destroy you, and I promise that you’ll love it.

“You look great, Ms. Kang,” Eunbi compliments her cheerfully, clicking the lipstick back.

Hyewon stares at herself in the mirror. She’s a silent observer, taking in her reflection and studying it closely. 

A lunar eclipse personified, a smile stretches on her lips that releases your held breaths. “I know.”

-

Mirrors lined with shining diamonds. Words that spell the house of fashion emblazoned in lights. Expensive makeup behind glass. Bags that are worth your tuition sitting on displayed pedestals as if they didn’t know their own worth. The event is a never-ending sea of vanity for the wealthy and the west. You can’t believe you’re playing a part in it, although you’re a sheep among well-dressed wolves.

Crowds of reporters and photographers wait at the main hall. There’s no questioning who they’re here for. Although Jang is undoubtedly a big name, so is Hyewon. They were right to recruit her. You’ve never seen a crowd this big, even for fashion. You wonder how much they paid her to be the ambassador. Must be millions when all the other houses are dying to have her. She doesn’t look like one who kindly allows lowballing.

Neither does this man. He’s grand in his custom Victoria Jang and shoes that have the glimmer of stars themselves as he stands at the center. He must be the MC; he has a name tag to his breast pocket and a mic in his fist.

“Dude, did you know Anya Taylor-Joy’s gonna be here?” Rafael tells you.

“The chick from that cool chess movie?”

“Yeah,” he replies. He gestures to the small screen that shows her holding a lipstick to her jaw. It would be hard to see it behind the scrambling reporters. Luckily, as the designer, you scored a nearby spot backstage. “Jennie, too!”

The two are gorgeous, but you’re honestly more interested in Hyewon. If people see she’s wearing your clothes, they’d want to hire you, too. She doesn’t follow the trend; she is the trend. Soon, you’ll see Korea filled with women wearing the same shirt, the same jeans, the same style…

“We’re proud to present Jang’s first store in Korea,” says the MC. Yep, you were right. “This is a monumental stepping stone for our founder, Ms. Jang Wonyoung. Please welcome her with a hearty applause!”

You know all about Jang Wonyoung. She’s a self-made woman whose passion for beauty got the attention of the public, especially the western world. She’s always busy despite her tender age of nineteen: performing onstage with her group IVE, traveling, founding a new school in meager areas. She’s almost at the same level as Hyewon in terms of stardom.

Wonyoung comes out from the background, dressed fashionably as always. A polite smile decorates her glossed lips. It’s caught by the flashes of cameras and the reporters’ cheers. 

“Hello, thank you for coming.” She brushes back her fringe and folds her hands. “Opening a branch here in my home is an achievement I’m forever grateful for. I would like to thank you all greatly for the success it’s brought about.

“Please,” she says, “take the time to immerse yourself in our array of products. Try a new trendy look with Jang Beauty—”

She extends an arm to the variety of products protected under firm glass. There’s powder, eyeliner, and blush. Actually, there’s a little of everything. There’s colors fit for every complexion, dark or light, and a palette of rainbows. 

“—or flaunt your own style with our new arrival bags and purses.”

See, they’re the bags which immediately give the impression of expensiveness. The accessories are reserved to warm or light hues accompanied with Wonyoung’s signature rabbit logo. One even features her signature, stylishly drawn on quality canvas.

“Our helpful staff are here to answer your questions and assist you, but for now, please meet our muses.”

The camera shutters multiply when Kim Jennie enters the frame. Another “it” girl, she’s from a globally loved K-pop group whose influence couldn’t be denied even by the worst liars. She made all the buzz for Jang when a news article that quoted Wonyoung’s adoration for her was released. As expected, social media received the news happily. They made parallels with Wonyoung and Jennie, created fan accounts, and bought from Jang, even if the house initially opened in the United States.

Wonyoung’s smile is wide. You think you see a little of yourself in her. There’s certain pride in seeing someone loved and adored wearing your design. 

Jennie waves briefly to the crowd before settling in a poised stride stage left.

Anya Taylor-Joy comes in next. Rafael makes a joke about how the press would have a difficult time trying to translate her name into Hangul characters correctly. She answers a question from the crowd sweetly with a translator’s help, and stands a yard from Jennie. Seeing the two women side by side stuns you—Jang really did emphasize how there’s beauty in everything and everyone, including those from different sides of the world. 

“And finally, we would like to present Jang’s new ambassador.” Wonyoung’s beaming positively. “Welcome to Jang, Kang Hyewon!”

Suppressed screams fill your ears. The women at the mall can’t believe a friendly outing to the mall grabbed them a chance to see her in person. She’s the kind of girl who’s everywhere, and still manages to make you look. To make you want to be her or be with her. Perhaps those two at the same time?

You stare at her. Hyewon is flawless. Her slight tan is a nice break from the whiteness of the cameras. Her eyes seem to single out everybody in the crowd. The ambassador stands next to Wonyoung, a hand on her own hip, and lets a slight Mona Lisa smile paint her face.

Perfection.

How does she do so little but still attract everyone? You’re not an exception. You find yourself forgetting that you made those clothes—she owns them now. They’ll be associated with her name and not yours. 

Do you even have a problem with that?

“Jang’s vision is to highlight beauty in everyone,” Wonyoung says. “Ms. Kang Hyewon is the perfect ambassador. She is an idol, singer, dancer, model, muse, and everything you can think of. She is the personification of beauty and versatility. We are proud to have her.”

You would be, too.

You were here to make a name for yourself, not fanboy over her. Here you are anyway doing it. 

Hyewon stands next to Wonyoung and nods humbly. “I’m honored to be named the ambassador for Jang.” She bows deeply. Her hands are together on her stomach. “Please expect more from us because we will deliver.”

Perhaps that’s a statement bolder than the red painted on her lips.

“To the name of beauty!” a reporter raises a glass and chugs it. You don’t know where that came from, but it draws collective giggles. 

Wonyoung laughs. “To the name of beauty!”

Hyewon jokingly raises an imaginary shot high in the air. The simplest actions don’t bar her from being beautiful. Just look at how her hair falls perfectly over gorgeous shoulders, how her hips stick out at the sides of the jeans—

How the sound of fabric ripping loudly stuns the crowd.

Your eyes go wide. The left strap of her top has torn apart. The two aidless halves collapse on the sides uselessly. The attire sags from the front and leaks the view of one of her breasts. Maybe they should have told her to keep the bra on—her left tit with nothing but nipple tape on is painfully shown off to hundreds of people. 

Hyewon’s eyes fill with alarm. All confidence is lost as she tries to cover her exposed breast up. But the deed is done. Worse, the flashes don’t stop. The photos will soon take to the internet and, regardless of her power to bend things to their will, can never truly be eradicated. The articles will go viral, too. No one will forget this moment of Kang Hyewon finally showing vulnerability.

“Ms. Kang—” Wonyoung says in a thin voice. She didn’t imagine this special day would take a drastic turn. She awkwardly laughs, because what else can she do? As rich as she is, she can’t pay a crazed scientist to implement a memory-erasing chip in these people’s brains. The event is officially ruined.

And it’s all your fault. 

Still, she generously steps in front of Hyewon to help. Similar to every attempt to salvage her dignity, it’s useless. The ambassador she relied so much on is already walking away. She’s leaving everything behind and won’t look back. Tonight is a night of many firsts, and right now, this is her first time retreating.

Aside from the sounds of phones and camcorders, all that’s left to hear is the furious clicking of Hyewon’s heels. Her strides are short and quick.

One step, five steps, ten steps… then thirteen.

It takes a total of thirteen steps for Hyewon to exit and come to you.

You couldn’t be an unluckier dead man.

-

Hyewon is the grim reaper. She wields fury instead of a scythe, wears now defective clothes instead of a dark cloak. The imminent loss of life is frightening regardless of being faced with a pretty woman. Anyone would get on their knees and resort to the unthinkable to experience this with the celebrity right now. So why are you as cold as a corpse?

“You.” 

One word is enough to make you want to die early.

You look forward while your steps go backward. Your feet can pave the longest reversed path and you’d still be left with no escape. Hyewon is faster than you are. The rest of the staff are in the crowd or in another room; they can’t help you. Nobody can tell her to stop. 

You doubt she’d listen anyway, and you know because you’re looking in her face: the face of death. Gone is the blasé mood surrounding her, the mystery in her that people would pray rosaries to venerate. What’s taken its place is an Ares-born wrath that’s at odds with her Aphrodite visuals. Her eyes are large with anger and short angry rasps leave her mouth. 

“Ms. Kang,” you say, your words a mute plea. “Really, I apologize—” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Hyewon’s forearm knocks into your neck and catapults you to the dressing room door. The wood gives way, much to your horror. You barely make it on the plush chair with how your feet struggle to keep upright. 

She looms over you hauntingly, tall in her black heels. It’s a reminder that she really is above you in everything: positions, status, wealth—

Intimacy? 

Why is she straddling you? You don’t know what you’re supposed to feel, much more where to look. Adding to her center literally being seated above your crotch, she didn’t even bother to fix her wardrobe malfunction. There’s no might left in you when her fingers curl into your collar and tighten it up to your neck. 

“You little shit.” She coils the fabric around your throat harder. Wracked coughs fight their way out of you. “An incompetent one, too. This is all your fault.”

Her voice is rougher when she’s angry. It’s like she has a switch that she clicks on and off to be what she has to be: the Kang Hyewon everyone idolizes; and the one people would be afraid of. It doesn’t take a wicked guess to figure which one you’re encountering now.

“Ms. Kang,” you say weakly, “please.” 

You inhale raggedly through your nose. Hate how comforting her expensive perfume is to your senses when she’s doing everything but making you at ease. Hate how attractive she is. Hate how you ruined the day that was supposed to change your life forever. Hate how a small part of you doesn't hate being under her. 

For others to understand you, they need to put themselves in your shoes. If an A-list star who’s as gorgeous as Hyewon was snugly seated on their lap, wouldn’t they feel the same? Wouldn’t they feel the stir in their pants, the heat in their chests?

You’re fucked in the head. But she is, too. You’re a match made in the depths of hell.

“I-I can explain.”

Your pulse beats beneath her palm. Its faltering rhythm brings cruel satisfaction to her, making her face spread into a wicked smile. 

As Hyewon’s almond eyes close into tyrannizing slits and her lips pull at the ends into a closed smirk, you realize why she rarely grins. You’re fucking terrified. It’s a simper reserved for little satisfaction and great anger. How can a woman be this beautiful yet this cruel?

“Explain then,” she allows. The ampleness of her lips has little distance to your mouth. “But if you think for one second I’m letting you go, you’re as dead as your career.”

Your career never started. You were young once. You had dreams of making yourself known and making your family proud. If today never happened, if your needle seamed the thread just a bit tighter, you still would have had a chance to go on. 

Now you’re neither young nor old, with neither a future or past.

Your dreams are broken, just like her clothes.

“Please, Ms. Kang. I was in a rush. I didn’t think it would undo like that.”

She laughs. It’s another rare occurrence that scares the shit out of you. It transforms into a sarcastic little scoff when she meets your eyes again. “I gave you days. I gave you a fucking chance to prove your worth when I could’ve hired any dickhead out there. And what did you do? You screwed it up.” 

With each word she spits, your collar wrings around you more compactly. You feel hot and breathless but to Hyewon, your skin is deadly cold to the touch. Nevertheless, she doesn’t let up.

“I’ll pay for the damage,” you offer bleakly. “I’ll apologize. I’ll admit that I was wrong to… hahk, to the media.  Just please don’t blacklist me.”

She shakes her head. “That isn’t enough.”

It isn’t? What could you do? You’ve already said you’ll pay more than you can to amend. You told her you’d go to the press and bare your wrongdoings. What else does she want? She already has everything.

“You wanted to see me naked, didn't you?” Hyewon snarls. “You planned it all out.” 

You choke, and it’s not because of her hands digging into your flesh. “N-no! I swear—”

In the olden days, prophecies were told by an oracle. People would go on quests and seal their fates in accordance with them. Now, they’re in the little things, like jokes that suddenly bleed into reality, and, in your case, deja vu.

You say deja vu because you know the sound of ripping fabric all too well. 

It interrupts your words and catches you by surprise. Hyewon has wrenched apart the buttons of your shirt down to your stomach. The band of your underwear peeks out above your pants, as well as the stomach you haven’t taken the time to tone in a while.

“There,” she says. She slinks down your lap till her knees touch the floor and she’s tearing your pants, too. More buttons are sent flying in the air. “Now we’re both naked. Isn’t that what you wanted? To get to say that you fucked Kang Hyewon?”

Your pants add to the pile of clothes and buttons on the ground. You can’t even blush or protest; Hyewon is unstoppable when she’s angry. Her soft hands, unlearned in the ways of hardship, somehow have the strength to cut and slice and pull at your clothing. She’s not leaving one speck of fabric on for modesty. 

“I, I don’t want to fu– to have sex with you, Ms. Kang.” 

“Baby.” Hyewon deadpans, laughing a little as she traces the curve of your cheek. “Everyone wants to fuck me.”

She takes off her shirt and tears off the nipple tapes. Her pretty brown nipples are uncovered, and you can’t stop staring. Her body is a model of perfection in every category. You’ve got her flat tummy, curved waist, wide hips, and breasts that really should have a warning sign lest you harm yourself looking at them. Unfortunately, they don’t have a warning label, and Hyewon catches your wandering eyes.

“Fucking pervert.”

You look away, but there’s nowhere else to stare, so you say, “No, please, I didn’t… no, I didn’t—”

“I know what I saw.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“That’s not how you say it.” Hyewon suddenly wraps her hand around your stiffening cock. Her squeeze is painful. “You sit there, bow your head, and say: ‘Sorry, mommy.’”

You’re flabbergasted. “What?” 

You yowl when she squeezes harder and starts to pump you to full mast. It’s a painful pleasure, a guilty danger. Hyewon’s eyes trained on you are even more so. 

“You heard me. If you want to save your career, do as I say.”

You whimper into the eerie silence as the woman curls her fist around your member as if she were choking it. How did you land into this situation? How were you so fucking stupid that you thought a week would be enough to finish the piece?

Now you’re here, in this enclosed dressing room, with a celebrity cruelly torturing your penis and demanding that you call her mommy. Look to the right then to the left and see that no one’s coming to your rescue. This is the real world, and as absurd as it is, you’re on your own.

Hyewon’s fingernails threaten to pierce the sensitive skin. “Be a good boy,” she growls.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, mommy.” 

(You mean it, you mean it, you mean it.)

“That wasn’t so hard. But I’m not done with you just yet.” 

She leans forward. Your face twists while she wraps her soft tits around you. Her cleavage is so deep, so full that your length is completely lost in it. You moan embarrassingly, and it’s too late to cover your mouth when she’s already smirking. 

“Because you wanted to see my tits so bad,” she says, rubbing her tits in opposite directions on your member, “I’m gonna fuck you with them. I don’t care if you cum like a little bitch or not; I’m not stopping.”

You’re starting to leak. Hyewon’s sweat combined with your precum lubricates you and allows for more delicious, slippery friction. She pushes herself up and down repeatedly, continuously trapping your cock between her amazing boobs. She could do this forever. On the other hand, you’re close to losing it.

“I’m not gonna stop. You brought this upon yourself. You understand me, don’t you?” 

“Yes.”

A deserved silence. Her eyes speak of an immediate death that follows a wrong answer.

Close your eyes. You know what you’re supposed to say. “Yes, mommy.”

Strangely, she’s exactly the type of woman who deserves that title. Her stony expression doesn’t evaporate from that beautiful face although sweat’s started to roll down it from how mercilessly she titfucks you. She shows no signs of sympathy for your situation. Why would she when she’s accustomed to control, and you’ve just taken that from her? You took her control from the people who’ve made her famous. This is your punishment.

Each pleasured expression you make draws a haughty smile from her. It’s as inspiring as critical acclaim to her, for she cups her tits tighter around your shaft and pumps away. You’re her toy for tonight. If she can’t regain her control over the public, she’ll show you why she deserves to have it:

One, she’s tireless. 

Her lower lip is under her teeth as she spills effort into persecuting your cock. She’s unblinking—she’s too focused on your reactions to close her eyes. It’s not like she’d care if your reaction is violent or pained or good. Hyewon would still go on fucking you.

“Of course you like this.” Spit covers your cockhead, a sign of her distaste. “You perverted virgins are all the same.”

“I’m not perverted, mommy.” 

“What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you’re not a virgin?”

“I’m, n-not a vir—”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

She continues grinding her pillowy breasts on you. Their undersides touch your balls while her nipples brush against your stomach. Whatever move she does makes you shiver. 

If you had no escape from the enigma that is Kang Hyewon, neither did your cock. Her bust makes sure of that. It surrounds it as if determined to suffocate an ejaculation out of it. The precum from your tip just isn’t enough.

Two, she doesn’t rely on anybody.

Nobody told her to fuck you. Nobody told her to strip and use you. Those are the choices she made by herself, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t perform them with dedication. She doesn’t need anybody’s help in ruining you when she can do it herself.

So she does. Hyewon sinfully lets saliva drip from her chin and onto her chest to help speed up what’s already a vicious pace. The cold drool makes you hiss. Her warm breasts are both a reprieve and retribution. They carry out soft comfort but give out your quick punishment at the same time. It’s funny to think how they’re as versatile as she is. 

Three, she’s the only one who’s ever made you cum like this.

“Mommy!” The word was never intended to be said. But it’s unavoidable; Hyewon’s too hasty, and it’s becoming too much. You can’t hold back on letting her know her ownership of you.

You can’t hold back the messiness of your cum as well. Bursts of white jet her chest and her neck. You whimper to your wits’ end and she doesn’t stop in spite of it. She keeps overstimulating you till the leak of semen becomes a mere dribble.

Hyewon climbs on your lap again, her vagina placed just in front of your spent shaft. “You’re getting used to it, huh?”

Your eyes are on her, as everyone else’s are when she’s under the lens of a camera. You’re horrified; almost every part of her torso is covered with your cum. Her tits are coated grandly with strong splashes. The white liquid drools down her tummy, then to her jeans.

You just came on Kang Hyewon.

Push her away, cursing quietly. You’ve no reputation left to save now. No dignity, no image, nothing. You should have fought back. A junior stylist shouldn’t be getting intimate with a superstar. 

“Ms. Kang, I should go,” you stammer. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

None of this was supposed to happen. You wish you could have turned back time and stopped yourself from going to fashion school. If you didn’t go, you wouldn’t have gone on the path of designing and wouldn’t have accepted her invitation to design for her and Jang. It’s all so fucked up that you’re actually reconsidering religion.

Hyewon considers this. To your relief, her professional tone returns. You’re able to breathe now. It’s over.

“You’re not gonna help me clean up?” she says finally.

“Oh… yes, I’m sorry.”

There’s no tissues or washcloths around. You have to be resourceful. It’s painful wiping up something so inappropriate with the shirt you designed, but it’ll do. The semen embeds into the denim during your dutiful clean-up. It’s humiliating—the only thing that comforts you is that, after this, you and Hyewon will part ways and never speak again. You both have something to hold over the other. Keeping your mouths shut will keep you safer than sorrier.

More worries surface. Did someone hear or see you? Are there hidden cameras here? You’ll have to inspect the place, especially after you think you don’t remember Hyewon locking the door.

“Thank you.” Hyewon crosses her arms and looks down at the stained vest that started all of this. “Now suck your cum out of it.”

You want to cry. This is far from over. You’re not done here, and you won’t be until she says so.

She cocks her head. “I paid for it, and I don’t want flaws,” she says matter-of-factly. “So you either suck your filth out now or I might just drop the Somun magazine editor a visit.”

Stare at her with tear-filled eyes. What can you do?

Attach your lips to the blemished denim. Suck on it forcefully. The taste brings more tears and some even slide in pathetic drops down your face. How did it all come to this? The amount of hard work you put in school surely did not earn you this, right?

You were raised too soft. Maybe hanging out with the rebellious boys back in elementary would have saved you her domination. You could have negotiated with her, maybe even argued that you weren’t allowing this to happen to you. But those happen in parallel universes, where you’re a little stronger, a little wiser. Here, you’re just a man who’s not particularly excellent. 

“Good job,” Hyewon says. “I guess you’re not that much of a lost cause.”

Her backhanded praise is sweet to your ears rather than mocking.

She clicks her tongue. “All that cum should have went in my pussy, you know.” 

You hang your head to hide your blush. You’re glad thoughts aren’t visually presented. Otherwise, Hyewon would put you down further. 

Hyewon places a finger below your chin and tilts it up. You’re forced to meet her eyes. There comes all the hate again. It pours into your heart freely like a fountain. It’s not hate for her, but for yourself. If you didn’t crumple that easily for women like Hyewon—women who like control and give orders and get a kick out of humiliating other people—maybe a whole other fate would have been in store for you.

Fright always gives way to yearning. She’s a bitch who thinks too highly of herself, although understandably so. She hurt you so much and through it all, you still want to hear her praise you.

She smiles. 

Yep, Kang Hyewon is irredeemably, irrevocably evil.

“And you owe me a whole lot of it,” she says, and adds, in a sickeningly sweet voice, “baby boy.”

No horror film can scare you like she does. She’s a phantom of beauty and power who will haunt you forever. All this could be done and you’d still think about her. You’ve become another one of Hyewon’s fanatics who allows her to do anything and everything to them. 

Hyewon shoves you on the dressing table. The cold white surface cools your skin, but you know it’s about to get heated soon. She’s spanned her legs over your hips again. Her aggressive hands grip your shoulders. Somehow, you never want them to leave your touch. 

Then you’re kissing her. The other way around, you mean—Hyewon initiates it by closing the distance and biting your lip. She’s a starved kisser who devours you like a wolf. Her tongue curls around yours and she dives in deeper. You’re deprived of any breath, any source of oxygen. Part your lips to kiss her back, but she’s already locked her mouth on them.

Hyewon sweeps her hair back, readying herself for the final act. If mirrors could blush, you have no question that they would upon seeing her. Attractiveness is a natural thing to her—you can see it in the sway of her arms, the thickness of her thighs, and the way she carries herself. She acts like she’s entitled to everything, and that includes your cock.

She’s too fucking hot that you’d ignore all her cons and give it up to her.

She knows that. She circles her core around your tip. You moan immediately. She feels so good, and you’re not even inside her yet. 

“You like that?” she sneers after she pulls away. “You like my pussy on your cock?”

She grinds her slit along your cockhead. Her moans are surprisingly sensitive, high in pitch and airy. You’re granted exclusive listening to them when you hit her clit. She moves it there particularly, because those moaned questions she asked you are just for her own ego. She only cares for her own pleasure, and it just so happens to be ignited by a weak man whose type is crazy, unhinged women. Whose type just so happens to be her.

She’s so wet that sounds of drenched squeaks fill your ears. You’re nothing else except certain that she really, really gets off on being such a bitch. Her wicked leer couldn’t ever fade from her face, not if you keep flashing those exhausted needy expressions.

“Answer me,” Hyewon says. She glides her fingertips from your broad shoulders to your neck. A threatening grip, a deadly fate. “You know mommy doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Do you want me to ride your cock, hm?” Every fragment she speaks makes her choke you harder. She’ll send you to heaven then hell, where you’ll meet her all over again. “Do you want me to keep you inside me until I’m all done and satisfied?”

“Yes… oh fuck, please!”

“I fucking thought so.”

She sinks herself down in one go. You cry out. Hyewon’s tight pussy welcomes you and traps you right up to the hilt. The hard grip of her cunt disallows you a break; her pace is one of anger that’s unrelenting and harsh. 

Her thighs crash down on your lap and rise, a cycle that never ends. You’re left even more breathless by her soft breasts smothering you. It’s the best way to go out. They bounce marvelously in front of your face, your nose pressed to the little space between them and your mouth kissing wherever it can. You lick at her tits until you’ve licked all the cum that might have remained on them. 

Your lips attach themselves to her nipple. As an effect, the star’s cunt clamps around you with the hold of a guilty pleasure, a taboo vice. It doesn’t intend on letting go unless you decide you want it to go. But you have the feeling that your probable pleas won’t budge Hyewon’s heart. 

“Mommy’s baby boy,” Hyewon says. Her tightness grows and so does the volume of her heavy gasps. “Mommy’s slutty baby boy who’d do anything to get this pussy.”

You want to tell her that what she said is far from the truth. You didn’t want to cause a wardrobe malfunction. You didn’t want to anger her. But now, when presented with the heat of her impossibly wet vagina, you realize you actually would. You try to meet her expectations, nursing on her nipple and guiding her movements with your hands on her wide hips. What you want is for this to be enough, but it just isn’t. Hyewon always wants more.

You can see it in the crash of her butt on your thighs, the shouty cries that she lets go of, the grip on your neck that she doesn’t. A woman accustomed to the scrutiny of the public eye would never let a strand of her hair go knotted. But when it comes to punishing people, to making them the accessory she carries, she doesn’t care anymore. Her usually prepared and counted movements become frantic. Her quietness isn't a  case of the current times when she’s using you as her little fucktoy. 

Kang Hyewon is a mess, and you are, too.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Your yells crack and fade—she doesn’t.

Hyewon doesn’t let up. Her fluttering walls make sure to leave your legs stagnant. You can feel her manicured nails scrape your skin and her thin legs hug your hips. The hours she spends in the gym can’t be that long for her stamina to remain this strong. Maybe she has a personal trainer, a healthy diet. Maybe she owns some weights around the house.

Maybe she owns you.

“You sound pathetic. Just keep sucking those tits.” She removes her hand from the base of your neck, but leaves you asphyxiated anyway when she pushes her face into her breasts. 

The mirror bears your combined weight. You try to lift your head. Hyewon chases your movements. You’re forced to inhale through your nostrils, taking in her powdery perfume and lightly sweaty scent, and keep your mouth busy on her boobs. 

You flick her nipple with your tongue. She holds you to her chest and promises no escape. To be fair, you could stay here, smothered by her breasts forever. You’d have little complaint when they’re heavy and soft and sweaty. Your mouth stays attached to them and brings her on the road to orgasm.

“Greedy little boy,” Hyewon scoffs. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you? I bet you held it out just so I could keep riding you.”

Your cock feels sore already. Although her insides are warm and soaked enough for the entering and leaving to be slick, you’ve been trying to hold back for so long you think you’ll cry. You have to tell her. Perhaps it’ll lessen her anger. 

“I’m gonna cum, please, mommy.”

She cruelly bounces faster. Her hips are that of a veteran dancer’s, grinding to and fro and rotating. You’ve figured it out: the reason why she’s never had a dating scandal is that no man would be able to handle her. She’d drain him nightly. She’d treat him like a sex toy to use when she pleases. Everyone wants to be hers, but no one is ready for her.

“Do you deserve to cum inside this perfect pussy?” she asks. She splays her lips and grinds upwards. You groan loudly. “You’re lucky if I even spit on you. What makes you think you can explode in mommy?”

“Please, I’ll do anything!” You tighten your core to hold it back. It’s useless. Your orgasm is coming anytime now, and Hyewon won’t let it happen. “Mommy, let me cum, mommy, please!”

She slaps you across the face. Why did the sting turn you on? You’d argue her words sting more. “You made me look like a cheap slut out there!” Hyewon shouts. “I gave you a chance and you ruined it, you little shit. So now you have to earn your fucking worth!” 

Her riding becomes intense by the minute. She was angry earlier, and now she’s furious. You’re her canvas for a fuming painting. But in her eyes, you’re not a masterpiece. She’ll do away with you to the point of destruction. You’re very near to crumbling.

“I’ll do anything, please!”

You’re desperate. Your stomach’s starting to ache from the violence. You can’t quite feel your legs. All you feel is an impending heat that squeezes your insides. Your hips jerk needily and tears fall from your face. This is the first time you’ve felt this humiliated and aroused. Something about Hyewon makes the two emotions merge and leaves you wanting more.

Hyewon’s close to cumming, too. She’s shaking as her chaotic bounces are sloppier than before. “Say it, say you’re my little boy toy! Say you’re a slut for mommy!”

You’re a quivering body beneath the celebrity. You’re letting her use your cock and choke you and slap you, all without repercussions. There’s only one kind of man that would let someone do that to them. You can’t believe you’ve become one.

“Yes, yes, mommy owns my cock!” you scream, nodding over and over. “I’m her toy and she can do w-whatever she wants to me, I won’t mind!” 

Her juices roll down your cock and wet your pubic area. She’s spiraling out of control. The only thing she can control is you, making you say the most humiliating things. Her wild eyes lock onto yours, and through them you could finally see some backstory: Kang Hyewon was born into wealth and control, and she’ll die with them, too. She’ll always fight to have them when they’re taken away from her. She isn’t afraid to cross limits.

“Yes, yes, yes! More!”

“I only want mommy’s pussy even if I don’t deserve it! I only do what she says, I’ll give up everything to be mommy’s plaything, please!”

When she cums, she looks frenzied, shaking all over the place and spasming around you. Her cries of pleasure become erratic. They almost sound not human. A human would not dare do what she does to you. She fucks you like an animal, frightens you like a supernatural phenomenon, and moves like the waves of the sea.

Kang Hyewon is out of this world. You’re an unnamed rock floating in the galaxy she navigates.

You bust just the second she removes herself from you. Abashing strings of sticky whiteness land all over yourself. They’re paired with needy groans that you can’t stop even if you wanted to. 

Hyewon observes your ejaculation unamusedly. She takes a step backward when a jet of cum sprays in her direction. Look down at yourself—look down at your lap and the table blotted with your orgasm—and think of how dirty you are. You’re so dirty and pitiable that you came all over yourself, like you just masturbated in front of her. That’s why she doesn’t want to touch you.

“Y-you didn’t let me cum inside,” you say disappointedly. You did everything, said everything, and risked everything for nothing. An orgasm isn’t worth it when it isn’t done inside Hyewon.

“Like I said,” Hyewon replies, apathetic, “you don’t deserve it.”

Stare at her. It’s through staring at her with surprise that you realize you’re dirty on the inside, too. Hyewon can live her life secludedly and fade from the industry. She can leave this country, reinvent herself, marry somewhere, and you’d still be thinking about her. You’d always think of this night that left her appearance and yourself ruined.

That’s her charm. She’s permanently going to be in your mind—you’ll always picture her wet cunt, her alluring breasts, her beautiful face. You’ll strive for her again and again while she doesn't even care if you live or die.

Women like her… why do they have to be who you want?

“You have no future in this industry,” she continues. 

She pulls her jeans up her legs and slips the button through the hole. Oh, you really will remember this night. You see you and Hyewon in the little things. She searches through the closet for a spare shirt. Watch her slim fingers that previously wrapped like ribbons around your throat now wrap around a hanger. She slips her arms through the tweed coat and seals it around the front.

“But your drawings aren’t… horrible,” she says. That’s the best compliment you can get from her. You know not to expect more. She shrugs as she closes the buttons together. “Maybe you’ll end up as a painter.” 

A painter? You’re a fashion designer, not Van Gogh. Dresses and pants are your forte. You can’t switch to a whole new job when sewing is what you know.

Your heart sinks. You really broke the first step to a career you worked your whole life for. It’s just not your path to take anymore. 

Hyewon looks around for something to write with. She settles for the eye pencil lying on a table. She forces you to open your palm and writes something on it. She closes your fingers above it.

“There you go. Consider this a farewell gift.”

She came into your life fast and she exits it just as fast. You can’t help but feel a strange sense of yearning. After all she’s done, you don’t want her to go. Why do you despise her departure when you prayed for it earlier?

Who would take you now?

You sigh. Peek at your hand curiously. In tidy handwriting, Hyewon’s message says:

KIM MINJU - CURATOR

XXX - XXX - 2001

[redstarwriting]

the clash | i. hey, ho! let’s go!

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie

a/n: it’s here 😎 no but fr, i proudly present a new series focusing on hobie brown, loml. i‘m trying to make it gn, so if you spot anything that needs fixing lemme know. i also did include a bit of a description of what you look like, but it’s mainly just to affirm the gothic spider-person look. and if you don’t like it, you can just pretend it isn’t there, my character designer brain just took a hold while explaining lol. enjoy y’all, there’s more where this came from 👀

now reading: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: ii. time bomb

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In theory, the two of you should have been great friends. Best friends, even. He’s called Spider-Punk, and you’re called Spider-Goth, this alone made Miguel assume the two of you would get along better than all of the Peters. Unfortunately for Miguel, he was dead wrong. It was fine at first, a good introduction. “Spider-Punk, meet Spider-Goth,” Miguel says, motioning to the two of you. You simultaneously turn your heads towards him, “Don’t call me that.” You look at each other, seemingly sizing each other up after speaking the same words at the same time. In reality, the two of you were checking each other out, but no one needs to know that. “Fine. Hobie, meet (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Hobie,” Miguel says as Peter B. Parker hops next to him, excited to see the two of you interact. Your gaze first fell on his many piercings, which suited him very well. Almost as well as the spikes coming out of the shoulders of his tattered denim vest. “See somethin’ you like?” you hear his thick cockney accent, and you shrug. “The constant changing makes it difficult,” you say, causing him to shrug. “I hate consistency,” he says, staring you up and down. “I like the guitar,” you say, and he nods. “Everyone does.” You raise an eyebrow, and he takes in the way your heavy black eyeliner makes the expression look more exaggerated than it is. His eyes go down, taking in your outfit, which seems to be varying in different gothic styles, but overall is all black with silver studs, spikes, and charms sticking out everywhere. He notices the two of you share a liking for combat boots, and perhaps his favorite thing about you are the intricate and all black spider-web tattoos on your hands crawling their way up your arms. Hobie clicks his tongue. “Goth, eh?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem with you or something?”

“Feisty for a goth.”

“Instigative as all punks are.”

“What… is going on,’ Peter whispers to Miguel who shakes his head. “I thought they would be best friends?” Peter suggests as he places a binky in Mayday’s mouth. “I did too…” Miguel says, “Maybe this is just a way these types of alternative people talk?”

“Tal vez tengas razón… Hobie does love to be abrasive for no reason,” Miguel concludes, and Peter shrugs and they zone in on the two of you again. “...I don’t suppose there’s no reason we shouldn’t get along,” Hobie suggests, raising an eyebrow at you. “I agree. We probably think similar things… for the most part.”

“For the most part, huh?”

“Just that we have similar ideas, but most likely not the same,” you respond, and he crosses his arms, his guitar moving loosely behind his back. “Opinions on anarchy. Go.”

“It’s the ideal society—”

“Good start—”

“But completely unrealistic.”

“Excuse me?” Hobie looks at you with a glowering expression. “Humans are inherently assholes. Selfish, shitty, assholes. As amazing as it would be to have anarchy running rampant,” you shrug, “It’s unlikely it will ever happen.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Hobie says, exasperated, “I mean you actually think that we can’t achieve it? You get enough people angry, and they rebel, they push for anarchy. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve led a rebellion.” You roll your eyes. “And do you live in a perfect anarchical society now?”

“Not yet, but we’re gettin’ there,” he clenches his teeth, and you sigh. “I admire your blatant idiocy disguised as an ambitious dream,” you say, and he huffs. “Would you just talk like a normal fuckin’ person and stop usin’ these dumbass words and shitty poetic language?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, or are you as deaf as your ideologies?” This time you scoff. “I don’t have the time to be berated by someone who lives in their own delusions to try and feel the slightest bit less angry at the world for giving him the shitty cards he was dealt.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to the rubbish ramblings of a miserable twat who digs desperately into their black hole of a heart to try and feel somethin’ when the truth is they don’t even know what they stand for,” he fires back. You glare at him. He glares at you. As if on cue you both flip each other off before you web away. Peter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, that went horribly!”

Miguel punches him on the shoulder, resulting in a soft ‘ow’ and a tiny angry noise from Mayday. “What the hell was that Hobart?” Miguel nearly yells and Hobie snaps his head towards him. “Don’t call me that, neither! They don’t get it. It’s not enough to want to make a difference in the world. You need to take action. Goths love to sit on the sidelines and lament instead of playing the offensive,” Hobie explains, a deep frown on his face, “Watch out for them. They might not be able to do what it takes when it counts.” Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hobie, you’re supposed to show them around—”

“No, fuck that. I’m not goin’ anywhere near that gothic monstrosity,” Hobie says shaking his head in defiance. “We made a deal. You would show all the younger spider—”

“Yeah, well you can shove that deal up your fuckin’ ass, mate, I’m not doin’ shit for them!”

“Okay, okay, calm down there, man. Why don’t you just ask Gwen to help you? Maybe Miles and Pavitr too? That way you fulfill your promise, 'cause I know promises are important to you, and you won’t have to talk to them!” Peter reasons and Hobie looks over at him. He furrows his eyebrows. That would help the situation. And maybe he’d be able to help you see just how garbage your take was with Gwen on his side. “Fine. But I’m not doin’ it cause I need help, and I’m not doin’ it because you told me to. I’m doin’ it cause it’s the last thing that they’d want,” Hobie says, pointing at Peter while saying it, flipping Miguel off, and then webbing away. Peter looks at Miguel who is clenching his fists… and his jaw. “You seem stressed, but don’t worry about it. Not all of us need to like each other, I mean there’s so many there’s no possible way we all could and look at you, you hate Miles even though he’s awesome and—”

“Shut. Up. Peter,” Miguel growls, stalking away while mumbling various things in Spanish. Peter looks down at Mayday. “Tough crowd,” he says as she giggles up at him.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom​ @weyrrii* 

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

[charliemwrites]

Yes yes, I know. Part 9 for Charmed Slasher is coming out soon, I promise.

BUT! I had this Thought and just had to do it real quick!

(CW for violent imagery and actual violence)

Simon's been watching you for weeks.

You're such a sweet, quiet thing. Shy. Happy to let your coworkers lead conversations, chiming in only when directly addressed. You smile like sun peeking through clouds, slow and beaming, prying through darkness.

And they way you peer up through your eyelashes, the corners of your mouth tipping up. Oh, oh... he wants to ruin you.

Thinks of you while he strokes himself in bed, looking up at him through those thick lashes. Sticking together with unshed tears as you choke on his cock. That quietly pleased smile when he purrs that you're doing so well, almost halfway there...

It's becoming a distraction, this preoccupation with you. So many others just let their eyes slide over you, but not Simon. No, he sees you.

That you shred your bottom lip bloody when you're deep in thought. You wrinkle your nose and squeeze your eyes shut when you're trying not to sneeze. Always burn your mouth on your first sip of coffee.

He watches you in your home. The way you curl up with your favorite blanket, leaned up against the arm of the couch. A perfect open space for him to share with you. He memorizes your routines and imagines slotting himself into your life.

He shouldn't. That's not going to stop him.

Price has been staring at him hard when he thinks Simon won't notice. Gaz has been jumpier; the recruits whispering more fervently. They can sense him slipping; too many missions. Too much bloodshed. It's soaked past clothes and skin, muscle and marrow. His soul, if he has one, must be drenched crimson.

He needs an anchor to keep him from floating adrift in this sea of blood.

He's found you. So precious. So delicate. He couldn't let himself be too rough with you; you'd break so easily. Oh, his hands itch to break you down piece by piece like his favorite gun. Gut you and clean you out, only to put you back together again with his own hands, his initials stamped into you.

There's no salvation for someone like him, but you're all the Paradise he needs.

And then you go and do such a stupid, silly thing.

You go on a date. Look like something he wants to stain in your clingy jeans and low-cut top. Hair done just so. He wants to see it sweaty and tangled after burying his fingers in it; his vision goes red at the thought of anyone else getting that honor.

But no... no. It's not your fault, really. You don't know any better. But you will. You will very, very soon.

Simon watches your date greet you outside, slip an arm around your waist like it belongs there. Like you belong to anyone but Simon. The only things that saves the man from a bloody end right there is that you gently extricate yourself to go inside.

He seethes on the sidewalk across the street, fingers twitching for his Ka-Bar. The images of his initials on your perfect skin is burned behind his eyelids, and afterimage superimposing itself over his vision.

It's time you knew who you belong to.

--

Your father always said you have a temper like the Devil. Didn’t understand what he meant as a sunshine six-year-old, giggling after butterflies and munching on cheese sticks. Your parents’ pride and joy, their first and only babygirl.

You understood later, though, standing at the broken window and watching a pool of blood spread and spread and spread….. like leaving a marker tip on the page too long.

You’re Old Testament wrathful, fire and brimstone, churning beneath a lake of oil and ink. Pitch black, iridescent rainbow on the surface, too thick to realize what roils beneath until one misstep breaks that molecular tension—

Rage will boil up in your stomach, scorch your chest. Burns acidic in your throat and stains your teeth on venom. You don’t drown in anger, you wade into it until you float.

Not to say that you’re an angry person. You’re not. Not much to bother being angry about, by your estimate. Disappointed, resigned, annoyed, exasperated - sure. But the raw fury that sharpens your teeth and claws? It’s an energy expenditure your mind hardly ever feels the need to spark.

But there are some things…

“C’mon don’t be a fucking prude.” He’s drunk. He’s drunk and pushy and you feel your ribs expand, expand, expand…

“You fuckin’ owe me something.”

You show a little too much canine as you reply. “Because you bought me a couple drinks I didn’t ask for?”

“Fuckin’ spoiled bitch. Wha’ else d’you want, huh? Fuckin’ money?”

He pushes you. Your shoulders bump the alley wall behind you. The sky is so so dark above, no clouds, no moon. Even next to trash, the stink of that awful whiskey burns your nose.

You think of broken windows and blooms of blood.

“Just fuckin’ get on your knees.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you jus’ - it wasn’t a fuckin’—”

“No.”

His face twists, ugly and red (not the right shade of red) puffing up like a particularly loud bird.

“C’mere, you little—“

It’s nothing, nothing at all. A sidestep and a full-body shove. Your timing is perfect. You didn’t touch your second drink when your nail polish turned black.

Your “date” however, is wobbly and uncoordinated, you lean forwards on the balls of your feet in anticipation. Watch him bounce off the brick, stumble over a couple overfilled bags, and crack his temple on the metal corner of the dumpster.

You tilt your head as he collapses in a pathetic heap, barely conscious. Make a point to roll him over onto his back. The last sky he’ll ever see with any luck. You lean your foot into his stomach, watch him turn pale and then green. He’s not going to be able to roll over before all that drink comes up.

Satisfied, you step back as you brush brick dust and dirt from your pants and sleeves. Movement at the head of the alley catches your attention, but by the time you look, the disturbance is gone. Likely someone just passing by. You don’t care if you're wrong.

Below you, the man - you never bothered to actually remember his name - gurgles and starts to rasp wetly. The fury ebbs, a tide dragging out with bloody foam at the edge. You let out a slow, satisfied sigh and navigate to the alley's entrance.

You've barely stepped from the shadows of the buildings when there's a sharp pinch in your neck. The world goes black in seconds.

[chrissv4mp]

BabyyI really need angry sex with bullie and you are the right person to write it my god, i miss her soo much

౨ MAD AT ME ৎ

@livialifesblog @her-favorite @mseilishmwah @mxqdii @sophloveswomen @muchloveforhacker @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @xoluvx @slutforsturnioloss @devynscomet @loving1dsworld

NAVIGATION

billie's hand gripped your hair harshly as she fucked into you from behind, chest heaving and hair sticking to her forehead and some sides of her neck. rough grunts fall into your ear as she thrusts into you hard and fast, her pace relentless just as her grip on your hair was.

you don't even remember how you got in this position; her body towering over yours as she she whispered the most dirty, degrading words into your ear as she fucked you from behind like some slut. all you can remember was the first interaction you had when she got home from work.

she had accused you of something that she knew was bullshit. it was just some stupid rumor online about you and your co-star having an affair. fans had speculated something going on between the two of you since the close relationship you both had on set. you and her had hung out a few times, but that was it, and now you were here.

"you want her like this, huh? you want her fucking you from behind, don't ya?" she breathes out, untangling her hand from your hair to land a harsh slap on your ass. all that you can respond with are whines and cries, your hands gripping the sheets harshly as you shake your head.

tears threaten to roll down your cheeks as she grasps your hips with both hands, pulling you back against the fake dick. the new angle almost makes your arms give out, a loud, desperate moan reverberating in the room as she hits your g-spot repeatedly. the wet, sloshing sound of your pussy made her head spin, tugging her lower lip between her teeth in a means to silence her own noises.

frustration and lust boiled beneath her skin as she continues to thrust her hips forward, ignoring the obvious warnings that you gave whenever you were about to cum. she wasn't gonna stop when you did, she wasn't gonna stop until you were utterly spent or until she thought you learned your lesson, "cum, cum on my dick, babygirl. bet this wasn't the first time you've cum today, is it?"

incoherent babbles fell from your red and swollen lips, tears rolling down your cheeks as you unraveled all over the silicone cock. her palm came down on your ass again, this time in a harsher motion, causing a loud cry of her name to escape your throat.

the way you tried to squirm away only made her more passionate about her goal, her nails digging into your hips as she held you tighter. her body towered over yours once again, lips only an inch away from your ear as she spoke, "no, no, you don't get to move away. if you wanna act like a dirty slut, you're gonna get treated like one." she muttered, nibbling at your earlobe softly.

"who do you belong to, mamas?" she spat, her voice raspy and hoarse. you couldn't respond, she knew that, and that's exactly why she asked right in that moment. she wanted to tease you, break you past point of no return until all you knew was her name and her dick, "fuckin' say it. don't make me ask again," her hand came down on your ass again, her handprint almost clearly displayed from the impact.

"you—fuck!—'m'belong to you, mommy..!" your voice was a quiet, strained whine, but billie heard. she heard it loud and clear and that only fueled the fire in her chest. her thrusts never slowed, though, her hips snapping against yours seemingly rougher than before.

a low chuckle fell from between her perfect, plump lips before she spoke. her hand snuck up your body, tracing the curve in your back before running along your back muscles, finally finding home wrapped around you neck, "ts' all i needed to hear, princess."

"but that doesn't mean we're done, yet."

[minkieater]

tide | khj

pairing. rich!hj x f!reader genre. non idol au, toxic relationship, soulmates warnings. substances, consumption, mental health, sexual content minors dni PLS wc. 5.5k

♫ — the broken one, qm ft. jiung “when you said that you wish the two of us could die together, i just pat your head and say i know.”

the best way you’d ever described your relationship is adjacent to a children’s movie, and for that comparison you feel wrong, but nothing else comes close. when alice fell down that hole and her entire world flipped upside down, changing everything she once thought she knew, it was the epitome of years of your life spent with him. you being alice, hongjoong being… everyone else. the mad hatter, cheshire cat, the red queen, white queen, the jabberwocky, the rabbit, he was everyone, all the time, all at once. your life, the riddles, everything but nothing making sense at the same time. there was nothing else you could possibly compare it to, two emotionally adolescent humans in adult bodies. 

neither of you had ever been angry people by nature. in fact, you had always been deemed quite the opposite. hongjoong, older and successful, a man consumed by his work but always made time for the people around him — he shows up for birthdays, impromptu get togethers, graduations, backyard parties… despite his ever growing workload, he always put in the effort to be there. and not just be present, either. he’s always been observant, even in the beginning, showing up when you least expected it. after the longest, hardest day, with flowers and your favorite food in tow, he’s always been a true partner. 

you’re not much different. the parties hongjoong always shows up to typically had you behind the curtain. planning, decorating, even picking up the tab… you’re the epitome of loyalty. devotion, creativity, passion. you’d bettered him as a person, in his work, in his relationships, in his productivity. you love to help and you love to love, you surround yourself with people who give that back to you tenfold in a heartbeat. 

in the beginning, you thrived. you worked together harmoniously, you were patient with each other, compassionate, so stupidly in love…

“would you marry me?” a starless night, on the rooftop of his ever luxurious loft. his hair is black, a cigarette between his lips, his sweet chocolate eyes the brightest light amongst the dark, empty air. 

you knew you had never answered any question with such a quickness as you did that one. you don’t think you’d even muttered the word no to him in the six months you’ve been together. 

he handed you the cigarette he knew you were craving, a habit you picked up from him and him alone. one habit you didn’t share before you’d met. his stare is intense, the gleam in his eyes is bold, it’s saying a million words yet not one leaves his rose colored lips. words you know, words you’ve said, words he hasn’t returned. but he does, he will, eventually. 

“we’re forever then,” it could be a question but it feels more like a statement, an announcement of sorts, a promise that you could never break. you had no choice in the matter, not that you needed one, not that you could imagine a life without him after so little time of knowing him. 

it made you smile through the burn in the back of your throat, a long exhale leaving your lips, gray smoke following suit. in went your solitude, out came the pact you made with him under the moonlight. like the smoke, it faded into thin air, never to be taken back. 

“we became forever six months ago,” you handed the cigarette back to him, your fingers touching for a just a moment in passing. his smile reached his eyes, creases in his skin that you would run your fingers over in the dim light of his bedroom. every inch of him, burned to memory. 

“we became forever the day you were born, doll. just took until six months ago to find me,” the tobacco was between his lips again, wrapped around the circular stick, always glossy. never chapped, never dry, always swollen and sultry. edible. 

time went on, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. you initially thought hongjoong didn’t have a bad side, eternally a happy and exemplary lover. to be fair, you didn’t think you had one either. there’s a saying for that, right? you bring out the worst in each other? but they’re traits that are embedded in you. when the stars aligned the day you were born, you were gifted them, wrapped in sparkling wine colored paper and you just didn’t get around to opening them until someone fought fire with fire. 

you’d never yelled at a friend, let alone a lover, in your life. he’d never once been angry enough to remove himself from an entire room, have to excuse himself from the woman across from him because her voice took up too much space, smothered him in his own home. the one thing that kept you two linked, from the bedroom with the door locked to the couch all the way out in the living room, was how fucking obsessed with the other you were. 

it was sick, the heaviest sensation the two of you shared. lust, love, adoration, codependency, everything came right under obsession if you could even rank your feelings. most days, everything just blended together, anyways. from the moment your eyes met, really met for the first time, it was cataclysmic, the soul you knew just by his gaze that you shared. the click that linked the two of you for life. 

the air of the club was humid, wet and murky, too many people in too small of a space. you were at a sponsored event for work, dressed too classy for the place you were at, all the bodies around you covered in way less fabric. you were one track minded when it came to work — always looking upward, fighting to climb endless ranks, you could never rest. never break concentration. 

until the biggest distraction stared at you three people down, stood around the curve of the bar while you waited on your cocktail. he moved with a fluidity similar to water, a wave, an ocean as he waltzed into your space. behind you, he slipped his card down over your shoulder onto your tab before you could even reach for the cash in your purse.  

“nice play,” you glanced over your shoulder, greeted with teeth as white as snow, glistening hues of pink and blue from the dance floor cascading over the impressive structure of his face, “thank you.”

“a pretty drink for a pretty girl,” you glance down at the red cherries sitting in your cocktail, a mixture of yellow and orange sitting in your glass, mimicking a sunrise swirling around the cubes of ice.

a laugh escaped you, “i’d rate that pick up line a 7, i suppose.” 

he answers with a shrug, “anything above a 5 is a win for me. hongjoong,” his hand reaches out to shake yours and you’re taken aback, almost shocked at the gesture of a simple handshake around the bar at a more than busy nightclub. it told you more than it should, coming up on years of business under your belt, it seemed more like a proposition than an introduction. 

in that moment you saw him, you saw through him, you saw deep down inside and you couldn’t crawl your way out if you scratched and clawed your nails down to stubs. he was like you, apart of your world, higher up, even. he came from class, he came from money, he came from importance. he’s handsome, he’s gorgeous, and jesus christ he’s going to ruin your fucking life if you let him. you’d let him do anything.

your work event was long forgotten the second the two of you made eye contact, your attendance was the only thing mandatory, anyhow. a night of freedom, letting go of subjugation from your company as you spent ages with your back pressed to his front, bodies moving as one to the beat of whatever song played through the speakers. one melody after another, you don’t know how many songs have passed before you've faced him, hands around his neck, one of his legs between yours.

“you’re beautiful,” he says, noses nearly touching, wanting to curse the millimeter standing between himself and the rest of his life. a moment of pressure from you stood over his knee and he decided he’d never needed something so bad, his stomach growling with a hunger he was saving for a single taste of you. 

“yeah?” your smile turned mischievous, a dangerous game you were playing, he’d strip you down in front of the entire club, fuck you in front of every man in the building. that’s if he could live with himself letting anyone besides him see you like that, which he couldn’t, of course. your outfit left too much to the imagination, tight dress pants and a white top that clung to every inch of you. he needed to know what was underneath. he could imagine, picture you beneath the cotton, he could almost feel the soft plush of your thighs on his fingertips. 

“prove it,” was all you said and it sold him of the only thing he had left. his pride, the thing he savored, he’d usually let anyone else take the reins with him, want him first, so he could drop them without a second thought. you wanted me, i never wanted you. always the predator, never the prey, even under the gaze of his evermore. 

anyone that came before you, the several exes, plethora of playthings, he’d easily forget them, leave them all behind for a night with you. he wouldn’t settle for just a night with you, he won’t take anything less than eternity. your thin, tiny square lenses sitting low on your nose, your hair messily wrapped up on top of your head, lipstick still perfectly applied on your lips, the way you were so meticulously put together… it was a primal urge, the need to ruin it, ruin you, keep you forever, just for himself. 

you weren’t doing far off, core aching for a kiss, a touch, anything to take the edge off. something about sharing a soul meant you could see his and it stood tall and red and rippled in the wind and screamed at you to let him make the first move. he needed to lay his cards on the table, make his blood stained soul turn white, let him give himself to you before you gave yourself to him. you listened, as much as it wounded you, his glossy lips begging you to close the distance, to taste him, to hurry up and move on with eternity because time waits for no one. 

you could see his internal battle, there were several going on in the mere moment that lasted for hours. the battle of your beings, still separated not yet merged, yet still transparent for the other to see. the battle of him with himself, his pride, his masculinity, this routine he’s been performing for the past six years. your battle with him, begging him to give into you, to show you what he’s made of, to show you what color he bleeds. your battle with yourself, your self control to listen to whatever is telling you to let him give in first. you knew he would, he knew he would, it was a waiting game. 

once he said fuck it and he raised his white flag, his soul changed color as his lips tasted yours. one kiss in the middle of a crowded dance floor, overflowed enough that other people’s sweat was mixing with your own, music pumping through your veins, the world had shifted. tectonic plates couldn’t compare, couldn’t move you the way hongjoong did in that very moment. 

this combining, this merging, this tasting of his soul, the atoms that make up his very being, you consumed it all entirely. the good, the bad, the complicated, the opulent, the rough, the agonizing, you could feel all of it in him. you needed more. 

it wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always intoxicating, blinding, all consuming. the obsession was beautiful, addicting, similar to the box of tobacco you now kept in your back pocket. it translated to tenderness, intimacy, warmth, it was one of a kind. one that sparked jealousy from others, one that closed its doors on anyone who dared to peer inside. it was personal, only to be enjoyed by the two of you, never shared. no one on this fucking earth could understand you the way hongjoong could, no one could read your mind, fix what needed to be fixed before it was even broken in the first place. he was a lifeline, a savior, a backbone for you. and you were all the same to him. 

he’d never thought he could love anything the way he loves you. his music, his art, his life, he’d throw everything away if that meant one more second spent with you. you were water to him the way he was air to you, the sun to him the way he was the moon to you. in every single lifetime you know hongjoong has been your missing link, two fucked up pieces that finally finished the puzzle. when put together, everything made sense. you were complete. 

“mm, maybe a half an hour longer?” his smile is sheepish, almost embarrassed to say the same answer he’d given you thirty minutes prior. 

a knowing smile grows on your face, how could you be mad at him? your hard working boyfriend, forever sitting behind a screen, making deadlines meet. when he said half an hour, he meant two hours. when he said twenty minutes, he meant an hour. his language is exclusive to only him, it takes someone who really knows him, really understands him for his dialect to be construed.  

you went to bed, surrounded by white walls with monochromatic paintings that didn’t have any real meaning. the room was big, too big to be comforting. too empty to be lived in, especially without him beside you. it’s how the whole loft felt: picturesque, a movie set, a bed, bathroom and kitchen without being a home. you could have a photoshoot here anytime with the natural light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, but could you raise a family? could you settle here, in this city?

you kept your eyes closed, searching for sleep that didn’t want to be found. pulling the comforter over you, you nuzzled in, cocooned yourself into the mongolian cashmere that threatened you with its heat. 

“going to sleep this early? that’s no fun,” you heard his voice before the patter of his familiar footsteps, a rhythm you’d memorized months ago. he climbs into the california king, searching for you, finding you, kissing you. “what’s got you wrapped up like this? missed me?” 

you nodded, bottom lip jutting out, feeling so small even with him here, this huge bed engulfing you. you needed his heat, his touch, his skin on yours, you wanted comfort. 

“my girl,” he cooed, fingers running through your hair, messily sprawled across the silk pillowcase, “i missed you too.” 

kisses that were peppered along your jaw turned heated before you could notice his mood had changed. as his tongue licked up the base of your neck you whined, pressing yourself into him, mindlessly begging for more. 

“needy girl,” he teased as he pulled the blankets off of you, mongolian cashmere be damned. you wore one of his shirts, oversized enough to be a dress. he pushed it up past your stomach, pleasantly surprised with the lack of anything underneath. 

“ah, my needy girl is clever, hm? planned this, did you?” his smirk stretched across his face, eyes deepening to the richest, darkest brown, reflecting the ecuadorian chocolates he bought you months ago, a gift on a random thursday. 

“and what if i did?” you’d been pleading for him to come to bed for ages, begging him to fill more space in this empty room. you’d been prepared to try anything, stopped only by his mask of concentration. 

“then you’re in luck,” before you knew it he’d already slipped inside you, your back arching against the texture of the percale sheets beneath you. he’d wrecked you, as he did every time, swapping spit and cum and secrets, exposing skin and feelings and truths. 

every time the sex was this sweet, this melodious, he’d tell you exactly how he felt about you. he’d make you feel it. 

“fuck, i fucking love you,” he was buried to the hilt, holding your face between two cold hands, “could die right here inside you a happy man.” 

you couldn’t do anything but moan, clenching around him, your coming answer enough. 

“want me to fill you up?” he’d asked, thrusts turning rougher, more sporadic, the finish line nearing, “yeah? give you my kids? make you a mommy?” 

you locked your ankles behind his back, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. an iud sat inside you, still working perfectly fine, his proposal wouldn’t come to fruition with you like this. you still nod, whimpers leaving your throat, low babbles of begs for him to fill you. 

he always did, always carried you to the bath after, always washed your hair, your body, maybe filled you up once more if you felt like it. 

“do you want to stay here? in this city?” the bath had run lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t want to separate, didn’t want to spend a moment not pressed against one another. 

“for now, i think so, why?” his hand was traveling up and down your arm that hung outside the tub, your head laid against his chest. 

“when we have kids… i don’t know about raising them here,” your voice was small, unsure of where his mind would go with your sudden revelation. 

“we have a long way to go before then,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. you stayed quiet, fingertips inaudibly tapping the side of the tub. 

“this been bothering you?” his other hand moves to grip your jaw, a light touch to twist your head, making you look up at him. 

“i wouldn’t say it’s bothering me, but anything can happen, i was just thinking about it,” even the bathroom is too big, too lifeless to be a home. marble tile, his and hers vanities, a detached, massive shower, a bidet on the toilet. you couldn’t picture smaller you’s running around in here. 

“we’re already playing with fire, i guess,” he leans his head back on the tub, “where do you dream of going? if i could build a house from the ground up for you, where? what would it look like?”

like a scene from the notebook, your heart twisted, bursting at the seams with the unbelievable amount of what you felt for him. so you told him, a rancher, a farm, somewhere quiet and peaceful. a house that felt lived in, one appropriate to raise a family, one that wasn’t perfectly dusted and organized all the time. picture frames littering shelves, toys randomly left across the house, clothes on the floor of the bedroom. you wanted normalcy, you wanted warmth, you wanted a family. 

he wanted nothing more than to give you that. within two weeks he’d been in contact with several realtors, purchasing land on the countryside, finding the perfect plot for you two to raise your little family. he’d pictured you in a pair of boots, a tee shirt, an old, big pair of overalls. your stomach swollen, hair messily wrapped up, walking in the barn, feeding the chickens. his heart warmed, and his dick so quickly rose again, twitching behind your back. 

how a love so beautiful, so unique could get so fucked up, you couldn’t understand, not even three years later. you didn’t want to understand, though, and neither did he. you don’t care, neither of you do, because the only thing that matters is that he is still near you. close to you. breathing your air, touching your skin, whispering the most vile shit into your ear, he is here. you needed him closer, needed him so close that you merged into one. it’s never enough, it’ll never be enough, more of him, always more of him, always more of you. 

he felt the same way. your breath on his skin, your saliva drying on his neck, he wanted more. he wanted it messier, he wanted it sloppier. he wanted it to never end. but the two of you will never end because you’re meant for each other, right? there’s no one else on this planet for him, billions of people and he’s found his other half already. she’s under him, she’s breathing, she’s screaming, she’s beautiful. he’s so lucky. 

which is why it makes sense to no one that they don’t see either of you anymore. usually one of you, here and there, never together. never holding hands, never smiling at each other, never touching the other one’s hair, never fixing the other one a plate. never together, but yet rarely apart. as far as everyone knows, you’re still together, they think? you are, you tell them that you are, hongjoong tells them that you are, but poor yeosang can’t understand why he doesn’t see his friends anymore. he misses their smiles, their laughs, their humor, their parties, their love. you miss it too, sometimes. 

the truth is, your shared codependency turned into some warped fucking version of destruction where neither of you can stand to see other next to someone else. at clubs, at bars, at those backyard parties with your friends, god forbid you get too close to san. you swear to that same god if hongjoong spoke three more words to mina he’d be sleeping on the couch for weeks. everyone noticed, everyone could pick up on it easily. the side eye, outright glares across the room, hongjoong’s hand around your wrist like a pair of handcuffs. you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at your friend’s glances, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion, their questions that sat heavy in thin air without ever being spoken. you were too worried about what hongjoong was thinking. how angry he’d be, what it’d be like when you got home, if he’d even say a word to you the rest of the night. hongjoong was already cooking up his testimony, ready to tell you to stop being fucking insane and our friends are just friends, yet the double standard was always there. you’d use the same arguments against each other, have the same rebuttals. it got you nowhere, there was no resolution, there was just his california king and percale sheets. the cashmere blanket that laid over every argument, tucking it away tightly until the next time you unveiled it. 

as much as your love fucked you up, made your brain not fucking work correctly, you couldn’t bear to think of a day where you’d be apart. couldn’t imagine your future not spent in that rancher on the countryside, children and chickens running amok. 

when he told you his job was relocating him to the states, yet another huge city, you couldn’t breathe. for a full minute you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t function. your lifeline, your savior, your water, your moon, leaving you. 

“i’ll start looking for a place for us,” he said so casually, too casually, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at you. the breath was sucked from your lungs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was blue.

“no, i won’t go,” you murmured out, clearly, unlike the stumbling of words in your mind, hot tears in your eyes and strain on your voice. you sat up in the california king, goosebumps raising on your bare body in the too cold bedroom. 

“huh?” he finally tore his eyes from the screen, “what do you mean no?” 

“i won’t fucking go, joong! you’re asking me to pick up my life and move to another country for your stupid job?” anger flushed through your veins, your voice raised, fire in your eyes. you turned to him in the bed, not even bothering to cover yourself with the sheets. 

“my stupid job? my stupid job that pays for this place? pays the bills?” he sat up too quickly, his eyes were wide and oh boy was he angry, you hit a nerve there. 

“i can pay the bills just as easily as you and you know that, hongjoong,” you bark back, tears close to boiling as they stream down your face, “i can’t leave my life. my career, my stability, my future, what the fuck did you think i was going to say? huh? yeah sure! let’s move out of the country! are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“your future? what the fuck am i then? just a placeholder for now?” he’s laughing with wide eyes and oh fuck it’s maniacal, ring covered fingers tugging at his white blonde roots. “i fucking knew it. you never planned a real future with me then, did you? all that talk about getting married, having kids, all of it just a fucking lie? a sick little joke to keep me with you, paying the rent? funding your little shopping sprees?” 

“fuck you, hongjoong, you fucking know that’s not true,” you’re sobbing now, his words hitting their mark. you stood up and walked out to the living room, pulling the white, soft blanket with you. 

your dream, your future, your life, crumbling around you. hongjoong was air to you, your moon, controlling the tide that pushed and pulled you closer or farther away from one another. 

you’d never been dependent on anyone before him, never needed a moon to your sun, you shone brightly all by yourself at all times. even now, with him, you could easily survive without him. financially, at least. even in this big, lifeless loft you could support yourself, you were just as successful as he was, after all. but emotionally? actually living a life that he wasn’t involved in? you don’t think you’d survive it. 

you could leave here, move with him, restart your life somewhere else. you wanted to do that, but in the countryside, this situation is completely different. this isn’t a choice. this is someone else making a decision and everyone expecting you to follow suit. what about what you needed? what about your job, that you adore? spent years climbing to where you are, you now have an entire team working under you. what about that team? your coworkers? your family, living close by? your friends, oh god your friends, ones you haven’t seen in an embarrassing amount of time… only months past twenty six, you could technically restart if you needed to. you just don’t want to. you needed hongjoong to not want to, either. 

a moment barely passed before he’s beside you on the couch, tears pouring down your cheeks, face buried in the crook of his neck. he’s rubbing your back, kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings that’d always calm you when you broke down like this. he knows how to fix you, always stitching back together what he tore apart.

two months later, and you didn’t end up on that plane beside him. he had you really convinced, though, in the same way you convinced yourself: you’d leave your job, find one similar to yours in LA, climb the ranks, and be as successful as you are here, but there. you’d be just as devoted, passionate, happy. 

ultimately, he thought he knew best, like he always does. he thinks he knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. he knows you love your job, love your team, your coworkers, you love your position. you spent ages crawling your way up there. you love your friends, your family, you couldn’t leave them behind and still be happy. you’re a loyal woman in every aspect of your life, with your lover, your friends, your career. every small string is attached to what makes you, you. he knows you’d never be as happy as you are in this city, but he also knows you’d never let him go without you. so he left without a goodbye, without a parting gift, a farewell kiss, a last departing whisper of an i love you. 

he left you alone, broken, empty. 

a shell of who you once were. 

what he didn’t take into consideration is that you love him more than anything, anyone. you were inconsolable. your friends didn’t know what to do with you. they wondered why you weren’t at hongjoong’s going away party, why they haven’t heard from you, they didn’t know everything he did was in secret. how word didn’t get passed around to you, you didn’t know, you were still furious about it. they didn’t know how to help you, they couldn’t even start to make sense of why your boyfriend of years would leave you without a second word. neither could you. they couldn’t wrap their minds around how you didn’t know he was leaving. neither could you. 

that one long day you spent at work, coming home to a cold, massive, empty fucking apartment. not a trace of him, not one small sign that he ever lived there in the first place. he took all his clothes with him, all of his equipment for work, even his little trinkets… all gone. disappeared into thin air. how could you not fucking know? 

you took almost a week off from work. something you rarely did, you felt like you couldn’t catch up, couldn’t manage your insanely busy schedule if you did take some personal time. but this was different. it wasn’t a week spent relaxing somewhere warm, it wasn’t a vacation, it wasn’t happy at all. you thought you felt your world crumble around you when he first broke the news, this was the real thing. this was the past three years of your life that had been devoted to one singe person, the person that mattered most, the person that you’d cross oceans and go to war for and he plucked himself directly from your life. 

mina, yuna, yeosang, mingi… they were at your apartment around the fucking clock. they didn’t leave you alone, it was suffocating. you hadn’t left your bed for days, you weren’t eating, you weren’t drinking, you were too busy staring at the space above your dresser where a picture of the two of you once lived. 

he didn’t call. in the year you spent apart, while you built yourself again piece by piece, rewiring your very brain chemistry, he didn’t call you. he blocked your number, blocked your social medias, blocked your family. you went through every outlet at first, every friend you shared, trying again and again, begging for just a conversation with him. never once did you get through, never once did you hear how he was, how the states are different from here, how he’s been eating, who he’s been with… god, who has he been with? he’s yours, no one else’s.

you lost weight, you lost sleep, you lost your drive, you lost yourself, fifty percent of you. your soul was somewhere so far you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t access it, in an entirely different fucking country, tens of thousands of miles away from you. bottles of liquor now sat in your pantry, cartons of cigarettes sprawled across the kitchen table, every hour of your free time spent in solitude, months upon months of you driving yourself mad. 

you thought your bedroom felt empty before, unwelcoming, frigid, dispiriting, you couldn’t imagine being there without him, yet now you couldn’t bring yourself to go elsewhere. you took it for granted, having him here, you felt guilty for even thinking that you’d be happier somewhere else when you had the only thing you’ve ever needed in your possession. 

but a year later, he stood on your doorstep, a doorstep you once shared. a doorstep that has seen you pressed up against the frame with his hand inside your skirt, a doorstep that’s listened to your meaningless arguments on your way home from an event, a doorstep that’s watched as you bid visitors goodbye. he’s there, he’s breathing, he’s living, he’s close to you. not close enough. 

the earth had turned gray, the sunniest of days couldn’t make the city look saturated in the year you spent apart. all the usual too loud noise had turned to whispers, all the business couldn’t inflict an ounce of motivation in you. within seconds of seeing his face everything was colorful, the city had sound again, it was if someone flicked a switch sewn into your back. 

“you’re a real piece of shit,” you bark out, opting to shut the door in his face. his foot slides between the door and the frame, his hand lurching forward to hold it open. 

“i’m here,” is all he says, and you pause, looking up to him. he is here, and he’s real, and you can’t stop the tears from forming. 

hi friends! first post of my work on here <3 i have not posted any of my writing since i was probably 16... pls be nice to me

massive shoutout to @chimivx, thank you for getting me back into it and giving me the courage to post :,) love u forever

anyways i love hongjoong hope u enjoyed xoxo

love, t ｡ ★ • *

[planeteroticaaa]

— PARTITION

(part of erotica’s & lovae’s valentines special💋)

fiancé!toji who wanted to do something special for valentine’s day since he’d been working a lot more lately. so to make up for it, he’d gotten the two of you dinner reservations to this fancy restaurant he knew you’ve been wanting to try for ages. you were in your shared bedroom, seated at your vanity and getting ready for the romantic night he had set up for you. he already finished putting on his suit and tie and did everything else he needed to do, sitting with his legs spread on the velvet couch in front of your bed while waiting for you.

shifting his position on the cushions, he watched you doll yourself up in the way you knew he liked most. you hadn’t put on your dress yet—just sitting in your fluffy white towel as you tended to your lashes. he knew you’d take a while, thus why he set up the reservation for a time he knew you could actually ready by. he didn’t want his baby to have to rush on a special night planned for her. it was only when you started to rub your lips together to blend your lipliner and lipstick did he finally notice his dick slowly starting to strain against his trousers.

he wasn’t too hard to the point he couldn’t control himself, but he knew he was reaching that point when you grabbed the dress hanging on the closet door, the black lace bra and panties that were his favorite, and went to the restroom to change rather than in the same room to “surprise” him. he ran his tongue across his lips and mumbled under his breath a low “fuck” when you came out and asked him, “what do you think?” you twirled around in your silk, dark red, tight, body con dress that perfectly matched his suit, vanilla fragrance smelling up the room.

“you look so beautiful baby…c’mere,” he spoke a little above a whisper, ushering you to him. you placed your hands on his shoulders when his larger ones grabbed your hips and pulled you to him. you straddled his legs, breath hitching when you felt his clothed cock pressed against your cunt and when he started to feel up on your body. “toji…we have to go soon,” you lightly scolded, but did nothing to physically stop his hand from trailing up to your waist or his lips sucking and bruising your neck.

“oh my—f-fuck toji, y-yes!” you cried out. you weren’t sure when your dress ended up thrown somewhere haphazardly across the room, panties and bra ripped off, and your fiancé stuffing you full of his fat cock, fucking up into your needy hole that, despite your verbal protest to him that you shouldn’t be doing this right now, continued to suck him in. he had both of your arms behind your back with one hand and another pulling and gripping at your hair to keep your back perfectly arched for him, his strong thighs tensing from the way he thrusted feverishly into your pussy.

your mascara ran down your cheeks, staining them with your lipstick smudged from the way he sloppily made out with you just moments prior, a thin layer of sweat sticking to your body as your mouth gapped open. he tried, he really did, but the second you sat on his lap like that, all he could think about was fucking you stupid. you wanted to tell him again that you had to go soon, that the restaurant wouldn’t hold your spot long, but the pleasure from how rough he was being with you made you choke on your words and he probably wouldn’t have been able to hear you—being too fixated on the loud, wet squelching sounds your pussy made or your ass clapping and recoiling against his pelvis.

“‘m sorry baby, you just looked so fucking good…i couldn’t—i couldn’t help myself,” he pulled you back closer by your hair to whisper soothing apologies in your ear despite his dick curving up and hitting your cervix with the fat, angry red tip of his cock. you couldn’t pay him any mind even if you wanted to, eyes in the back of your head, more tears spilling out of them, and legs helplessly shaking.

“don’t worry your pretty head though, you won’t be too hungry after i stuff your tummy full of my cum. gonna put it right here, okay?” he coaxed, letting you head fall forward and moving your hand over to the spot on your stomach where you could feel and see his cock making a bulge and prodding deep inside you. “please don’t stop…please, please. . .” you chanted, your mind hazy from the overwhelming feeling of his and your hand pressed firmly on that specific area plus his cock bullying and dragging in and out of your tight hole. you’d think all of times he’s stretched you out like this that you would would be more used to the feeling, but no matter how often it was, you always managed to start babbling that it was too big to which he’d scoff and say, “you can take it, i know you can. you’re doing so good.”

it was when your mewls and moans got louder, your pussy squeezing him so tight you could feel each vein running up his shaft that he knew you were about to cum. letting go of your arms, his hand went back to tugging harshly at your hair. your hands, desperately needing something to hold onto, went straight for his meaty thighs, nails digging into his skin as the sound of skin clapping throughout the room got loud from his thrust getting faster and faster, cock continuing to deliciously hit your cervix. “y-yes daddy, fuck i’m cumming!” you practically squealed, pussy spasming and body jerking against him as you came, his hand flying down to rub rough, harsh circles on your clit, one of your hands gripping his wrist.

“look at you…creaming all over my dick like that,” toji groaned in your ear, gasp continuing to escaped your lips from how hard your orgasm was and the fact he was still fucking you with the pace impossibly increasing more and more. “daddy’s gonna fill your pussy with his cum, okay?” was the last thing he whispered into your ear when he completely lost the rhythm he was buckling his hips into you, thick ropes of cum coating your gummy walls. any chance of you possibly making it was immediately erased when he carried you to the bed and put you in another postion to fuck you even deeper than before.