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#but i was inspired by something a bit unexpected! (even by me!)
alygator77 · 27 days
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idk, i've been thinkin about long distance satoru :') just a little something i wrote while experiencing a bit of writers block. it's inspired on a military relationship but it can really be just any long distance!
warnings: nsfw, mdni 18+, smut and fluff
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long-distance! satoru whose heart aches when you have to say goodbye, holding you closer just a little bit longer than usual as he tries to memorize every detail—the warmth of your body, the scent of your hair, the way your arms fit perfectly around him. he knows that the absence of your touch will leave him feeling empty again, a void only you can fill.
long-distance! satoru who texts you every morning and night, because you are the first and last thing on his mind.
long-distance! satoru who calls you late one night after a long mission. exhausted but unable to sleep, he finds comfort in the sound of your voice.
“mmm… ‘toru?” the innocent sound of your sleepy voice immediately melts him, his tension easing from your soothing whisper.
“heya sleepy head…you got a minute?”
you stay on the phone with him all night, talking about everything and nothing, until you fall asleep.
long-distance! satoru who listens to your soft, rhythmic breathing through the phone, and quietly confesses how much he misses you, how the sound of your voice and the warmth of your embrace are the only things that keep him grounded in a world that feels increasingly cold without you.
long-distance! satoru who loves when you send him a compilation of short videos to watch, just knowing that you thought of him, carefully selecting each clip to bring a smile to his face. he replays them over and over, allowing himself to feel closer to you, as if each clip is a tiny piece of you that he can hold onto.
long-distance! satoru who dreams of your future together, when the distance will no longer separate you. he envisions the day when he can finally hold you close and never let go. he dreams of lazy mornings spent tangled in the sheets with you, of quiet evenings where you can simply be together without the constant ache of longing. these dreams are what keep him going, a promise of a future where he can finally be by your side, where this long-distance heartache will be nothing but a memory.
long-distance! satoru whose breath hitches when you surprise him when a naughty photo while he’s working.
“fucking hell woman…what are you doing to me?”
long-distance! satoru whose cock strains against his uniform as he sits at his desk, the tantalizing image of you searing itself into his mind, leaving him desperate to touch himself, to feel some semblance of the closeness he craves.
long-distance! satoru who grips his weeping cock as he strokes himself in the privacy of his room, his thoughts consumed by you. the distance between you fades away in his fantasies, replaced by the heat of your body, the taste of your skin, the sound of your voice in his ear.
“fuck princess… I miss you so fucking much,” he whimpers nearing his edge, body trembling as hot spurts of cum paint him pretty, your name falling from his lips as he coats himself with the evidence of his need, his need to fuck you senseless.
long-distance! satoru who lies there afterward, breathless and spent, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your absence settles back in. there’s a bittersweet ache, because he knows it’s not enough—it’ll never be enough until he has you back in his arms, for real.
long-distance! satoru who surprises you with an unexpected visit, appearing at your doorstep after months of being apart. his duty bag slides off his shoulder in the doorframe and his arms open wide, inviting you for the embrace you’ve been yearning for.
“miss me, princess?” his boyish grin is blurred from the happy tears in your eyes, and you immediately throw yourself into his welcoming arms.
long-distance! satoru who wraps around you tightly, lifting you off your feet as he spins you around, laughter filling the air. the warmth of his body against yours is almost overwhelming, and you cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you inhale the familiar scent of him.
long-distance! satoru who doesn’t even make it past the doorway before his lips find yours, all teeth and tongue as he kicks the door shut with his foot. his hands roam your body with a hunger that borders on feral.
“let me make up for lost time,” he groans against your lips, a promise and a plea as he presses you against the nearest wall, hips grinding against yours, and you feel just how hard, how desperate, he has been for you.
long-distance! satoru who finally, after months of longing and aching, finds himself buried deep inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync as if no time has passed at all. the sound of your moans, the way you cling to him—it’s everything he’s been dreaming of, and more.
long-distance! satoru who pours everything he’s been holding back into this moment, into you. he groans your name, voice strained with the effort to hold on just a little longer, to make this last, because honestly, he could have cum moments after entering you—your cunt is just too fucking delicious.
long-distance! satoru who knows exactly how to bring you to your own edge, who’s learned your body, knows what makes you gasp, what makes you moan, what makes you arch against him in that delicious way that drives him to the brink.
“cum for me, princess” he commands. and when you do, when your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper, it’s his undoing.
long-distance! satoru who finally lets go with a shuddering gasp, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave.
“fuck, I love you,” he groans, hands gripping your hips as he buries his face in your neck, his needy moans muffled against your skin as he spills his seed inside you, body trembling with the explosive force of it.
long-distance! satoru, who holds you close afterward, your bodies tangled together as you come down from the high. he presses soft kisses to your temple, your shoulder, your lips, whispering sweet nothings as you both drift off to sleep, content in the knowledge that, at least for now, the distance is no more.
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minisugakoobies · 7 months
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Yours for the Night | HHJ
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Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.
A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘
Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕
SKZ Masterlist
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 It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.
It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown. 
Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.
No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate. 
Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop. 
Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far. 
Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo. 
You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?
Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything. 
He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say. 
So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.
Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question. 
You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me
Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.
You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep
Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited? 
Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone. 
And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips. 
But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?
You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t
Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.
You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie
You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.
You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.
You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again. 
Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious
Such an ass.
You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?
The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace. 
You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.
You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.
Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?” 
Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “
“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”
“Hey!” 
Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over. 
Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo
He can’t be serious.
You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all
Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going? 
You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either
Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous. 
You turn away so fast, your neck cracks. 
Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.
There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity. 
It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.
Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away. 
As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo. 
You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.
Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic. 
So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.
But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck. 
Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything
Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself. 
You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!
What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now. 
“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors. 
You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say. 
“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.” 
“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache. 
“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly. 
Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock? 
(Yes. Yes, you are.)
“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg. 
“Oh no, that was just for you.” 
“Uh-huh, sure.” 
With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?” 
“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence. 
Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf. 
“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric. 
“Is that what we are? Friends?” 
Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”
“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.
Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?” 
You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. 
You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all. 
“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!” 
“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.” 
Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.
And like that, your resolve starts to slip. 
“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”  
Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.
His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs. 
Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin. 
“I just know.”
You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.  
“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.” 
And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake. 
The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?
You feel like you’re going out of your mind. 
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“Just think about it.” 
Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing. 
And oh, god, do you think about it. 
For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name. 
But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?
You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall). 
Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs. 
Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment. 
“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.” 
Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him. 
“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.” 
Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority. 
With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape. 
You’re not sure you want to.
“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear. 
Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod. 
“And what did you decide?” 
“I - I don’t know.” 
A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?” 
Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage. 
When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir. 
“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.” 
Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list. 
“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs. 
Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.” 
Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.” 
His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely. 
When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?” 
You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.
You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?
When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin. 
“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?” 
You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes. 
Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger. 
Fine, then. You’re a fool. 
“One.” 
With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.
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You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable. 
As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again. 
Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?” 
“Um, yeah, sure.” 
He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. 
“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”
“Am I - am I in good health?”
Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.” 
You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.” 
“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”
“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.” 
“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice. 
“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.” 
You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?” 
Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking. 
“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.
Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”
“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”
“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.” 
“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.” 
He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath. 
“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.” 
“No shit. Everyone knows that.” 
“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.” 
“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”
Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again. 
“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.” 
He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?” 
“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.” 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.
You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right. 
“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?” 
“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.” 
As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.  
The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it. 
Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??
“Maybe this was a bad idea.”
He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek. 
Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.
“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”
Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.
Your lips don’t move. 
He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.
You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply. 
His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”
You make no noise.
His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.
“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.
He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.
“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”
“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.” 
His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.
This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.
“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open. 
“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.” 
“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”
In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him. 
“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.” 
“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go. 
Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need. 
Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed. 
He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated. 
Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants. 
“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.
The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water. 
He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.” 
“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience. 
“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.” 
Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body. 
Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it. 
“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?
“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”
It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him. 
“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.” 
Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue. 
Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.
“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?
“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly. 
Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.” 
He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?” 
“I will.” 
He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.
Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing. 
When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.” 
“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens. 
He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little. 
Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps. 
He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands. 
“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 
His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.” 
You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.
“Ohhhh.” 
The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you. 
“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”
The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life. 
“Hy-Hyun-”
Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze. 
“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”
If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso. 
When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves. 
Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between. 
“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.
“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!” 
“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.” 
And just like that, you feel that spark again. 
“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash. 
He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite. 
“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation. 
“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer. 
His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder. 
“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.  
Both of you freeze when you��re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his. 
“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”
You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.
“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!” 
Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.” 
He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. 
“Hyu-hyu-hyun!” 
It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.
“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.” 
“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.
“Just like that, so good for me.” 
You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you. 
You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you. 
“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts  your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.” 
“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.” 
“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.” 
“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”
“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.” 
“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?” 
Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl. 
The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it. 
So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip. 
Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.
You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises. 
Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”
Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire. 
A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”
You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.
“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”
The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need. 
“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.” 
“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”
“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs. 
“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!” 
Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him. 
“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.” 
“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush. 
When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.
“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace. 
It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content. 
But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and - 
“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.” 
Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.” 
To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look. 
“What?” 
“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?” 
You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.
“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.” 
He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”
In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.” 
Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss. 
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hanjsquokka · 20 days
Text
a hidden world.
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han jisung × fem!reader — established relationship, fluff
summary — spending the weekend in the quiet intimacy of a log cabin in the forest with your boyfriend was a dream come true. an unexpected storm reveals something that wasn't part of your fantasy, something you never expected, even in your wildest dreams.
warnings — tooth rotting fluff, kissing
word count — 1.3K
author's note — hello hello everyone! i haven't had time to write a fluffy fic in a while. this can be read as a part two to this fic, but can also be read by itself! and here is hanji singing rewrite the stars which inspired these two fics <3
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Jisung strummed his guitar, not in any particular tune as he tried to find the right note to start playing. His hair fell into his eyes, still damp from the shower he took earlier after the two of you fell into the lake while canoeing. You bit back a chuckle thinking back to the moment that happened a few hours ago. Your boyfriend was so confident about his fishing skills, only for both of you to end up taking a dip in the water fully clothed.
He must've heard you, because he looked up at you, a smile tugging at his lips but he tried to look annoyed. “Why are you laughing?”
“‘M not!” You couldn't hold back anymore and started laughing softly, your hands coming up to cover your mouth as Jisung playfully scowled at you. After a moment, you cleared your throat. “I'm serious. Very serious. You haven't met another person as serious as me.”
That made him crack a smile, shaking his head. “You're so dorky.” He looked back down at his guitar, adjusting the keys before he started to play. Rewrite the Stars. You would be lying if you said you didn't tear up, mostly because of his wonderful singing. It was so… beautiful. The way his body slightly swayed as he really got into the music, the small glances he gave you with a smile and as he continued for you.
Just for you.
Your heart was swelling as he continued to play, more and more until it was ready to burst at the seams from all the love that you held for for him. The ambience of the place you were in—in front of the cabin, sitting on foldable chairs around a small fire that warmed you from the cool evening air, fairy lights in the shapes of stars hung over you and the calmess that surrounded everything.
“And why don't we rewrite the stars? Changing the world to be ours…” Jisung played the final notes and stopped strumming, meeting your eyes with his big, doe ones. “How'd I do?”
“Perfect,” you said, getting up from the chair you were sitting in. Jisung placed his guitar next to him as you went over and sat in his lap. You let out a small, content sigh as you settled onto him, feeling his arms wrap around your body and holding you close to his chest. “As always.”
“You praise me too much,” he said with a laugh, kissing the side of your head, which made your stomach flutter. “Gonna give me an even bigger ego.” Jisung brushed the hair out of your face, twirling the strands around his finger as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, making you giggle. “Mm, keep laughing like that, baby, and I'll wife you up this instant.” Even though you knew he was just teasing you, you couldn't help the blush that creeper up your neck or the way your heart skipped a beat. “Hey, why don't I teach you how to play?”
“Huh?”
“You wanted to learn, right? We have the time now.” He adjusted you in his lap so that your back was pressed up against his chest, your sock covered feet resting on top of his. Jisung picked up his guitar again and placed it in your lap, his chin resting on your shoulder as he guided your hands to the correct places on the instrument. He told you a few beginner points, like the notes of the strings and the keys, how to adjust the tone and play a note. You struggled, much to his amusement, grumbling along while trying to follow his words and him doing nothing to help by kissing the side of your neck when you were just about to get it right.
“My fingers hurt,” you mumbled, looking at your reddened fingertips.
“Oh, we can't have that now, can we?” He pulled your hands to his face and kissed each of your fingers. “There, you'll feel better in no time.” Both of you giggled, getting back into a comfortable position once he put the guitar down. The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, trapped in your own little hidden world, away from the prying eyes of other people. You could feel the vibrations of Jisung's humming, some jazz song that he'd been listening to frequently, against his chest, right next to your ears.
You were almost lulled into a peaceful nap.
Almost.
A crack of thunder boomed across the sky, making both of you jump. You blinked as a drop of water fell on your nose and another on your cheek. You were quick to get on your feet, putting on your slippers and gathered your stuff and his guitar and speed-walked into the cabin. Once those were inside, you came back out only to find your boyfriend still sitting on his chair in utter denial of the thunderstorm.
“It's raining? But rain wasn't on the forecast—” You stopped Jisung mid whine and pulled him to his feet and hurried into the cabin before you could get too soaked.
Inside, it was much warmer, making a pleasant tingle run through you. You tugged at the ends of the hoodie you were wearing, Jisung's obvious, he rarely let you wear your own clothes at times like this, and pulled off your muddy socks. Jisung was still sulky, making a big deal of pulling on the elastic of his sock and throwing it aside and then doing the same to the other foot.
He was still sulky when the two of you were tucked into bed later that night, huddled close to keep warm and safe as the rain pattered on the window.
For you, this was the epitome of comfort.
For Jisung, it was the biggest possible catastrophe that could happen in his life and other than whining and complaining about it, he wasn't letting you in on the root of his pettiness.
“‘s not fair! I picked this weekend because the weather forecast said sunny, sunshine and rainbows. Not gloomy, dreadful, sad rain,” he rumbled, pushing his face further into the crook of your neck, as if that was possible. You carded your fingers through his hair in an effort to calm him down, but it didn't work. “Stupid forecast. I knew I shoulda never trusted you.” He let out a huff and you almost laughed, picturing the frown he must've had on his face with his eyebrows scrunched up and his lips turned in a pout.
“It's just rain, Ji. It'll be fine tomorrow—”
“But I don't want the rain today!” You laughed at his tone. “Stop laughing at me!” His words made your body shake even more. “I hate you.”
“I love you too,” you managed to say through your giggles.
He was quiet for a few moments, letting your laughs die down before he spoke. “I had everything planned out. I was going to sing you a few songs and we would have s’mores and then you'd go feel geek mode over the constellations thinking I don't know anything, but jokes on you, I actually learnt a few of them. And then when you go on rambling about the story of Orion's belt, I pull out the ring and—” He stopped himself. You felt his face heating up as did your own.
Did he just—
“Now look what you made me do! I spoiled the surprise!” He let out something between a cry and a whine. “Damn you and your ability to make me say stuff ‘m not supposed to say.”
“You'll get another chance tomorrow,” you said quietly. Hopefully he couldn't see your flushed face or the heat of your skin or the way your palms became sweaty and your heart was going crazy in your ribcage. “I heard nothing.”
He lifted his head up to look at you in the eyes. “Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
He nodded before assuming his previous position.
“Why Orion's belt though?”
“Baby!” He stretched out the last syllable, kicking your legs with his. You smiled and pulled him closer.
Your happy place.
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taevbears · 11 months
Text
Movie Night
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When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.
⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all
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“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”
The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.
The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.
The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.
Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.
You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.
“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.
“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.
You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.
But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.
Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.
Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.
Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”
“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”
“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”
You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”
He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”
You find yourself smiling back at him.
“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.
Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.
In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.
Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.
But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.
Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.
Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”
You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.
“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”
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When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.
His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.
The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.
The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.
Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.
And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”
On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.
As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.
Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”
One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.
He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.
Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.
“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.
“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”
You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”
It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.
“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.
“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”
“Yeah?”
You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”
Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.
“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”
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The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.
But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.
You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.
To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.
What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.
The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.
He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.
And in return, you told him that you loved him.
When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.
Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.
Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.
Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.
Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.
Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.
What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.
You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.
But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.
It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.
And from there, everything was history.
With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.
With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.
Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.
“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.
“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”
“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.
“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”
He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.
“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.
You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.
Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.
Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.
“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.
The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”
“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”
“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”
“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.
This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.
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“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it. 
The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.
“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.
Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”
“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”
Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”
He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.
“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.
From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.
Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.
Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.
“Tan!”
You know that voice. How could you not?
That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.
Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.
“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.
“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”
“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.
Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”
“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung. 
It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.
“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”
“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”
His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.
“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.
“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.
“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”
You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”
“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.
You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you. 
Why now?
What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?
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“I don’t like that guy.”
Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.
“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”
The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.
Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.
But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.
“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”
“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”
On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.
Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths. 
“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.
Silence follows the tension.
Then, you inquire, “Again?”
The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.
Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.
“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.
“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”
As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer. 
He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.
This Jungkook scares you.
Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.
“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.
You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.
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“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.
It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.
After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.
That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.
The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail. 
You don’t want to talk to him.
At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain. 
You don’t want to see him.
Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.
“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.
The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.
Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”
You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.
And you’re starting to see what he meant.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”
“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”
So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.
Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.
“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”
“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”
“There’s nothing going on between us.”
That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.
“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”
Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”
“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.
“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”
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Hey. It’s Jungkook.
You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.
Are we breaking up?
You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.
You scared me, Kook.
His response is immediate.
I thought you weren’t scared of anything.
You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.
Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.
Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.
I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.
You think about it.
I miss you. Bam misses you too.
Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.
Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.
But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.
Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.
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Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.
You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films. 
As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.
His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.
“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.
“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.
But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”
He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.
This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.
Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.
“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.
The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek. 
A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.
One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.
Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.
But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.
Your smile fades as the next scene shows.
The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.
You remember that night, but…
“Jungkook. When did you record this?”
You had no idea he was filming you then.
You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.
“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—” 
You feel so sick to your stomach.
“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”
But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.
The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.
It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.
The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.
How long has Jungkook known about you?
How long has he been targeting you?
It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face. 
“Jungkook, what the fuck?”
It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.
You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.
More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face. 
It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds. 
The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”
He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”
You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.
And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.
“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”
“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”
The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.
It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.
The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”
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Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!
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comicaurora · 3 months
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I'm not a writer whatsoever and am currently listening to the OSPod Publishing special, and was really intruiged by your description of your character-driven stories as being similar to a DnD campaign. Could you please elaborate a bit on what you mean by "it's good when the characters surprise you"? It's likely an obvious writer thing, but I would've thought that an author wouldn't be surprised by where their story or characters go since, well, they're the one writing it. Regardless the comic is amazing so however confusing your process may be to me personally it's clearly effective
It's a little bit difficult to explain!
A lot of the writing process is just sitting down and writing it - laying out the setpieces, describing what the characters do, writing and tweaking the dialogue for impact. But in my experience, the vast majority of the REAL writing process happens internally, and large chunks of it are out of conscious reach of the writer. This unreachable space is where new ideas form, and why no writer has ever been able to answer the question "where do you get your ideas from?"
This is why a writer can beat their head against writers block for weeks at a time, then wake up one day with a solution and the entire next chunk of storyline fully formed. My dad calls this phenomenon "the better writer in the back of your head." A lot of the creative process doesn't happen in the front of your mind, where your ego and your inner voice live. Most of it is deeper down. This is how your mind is capable of surprising you in any context, including dreams or unexpected emotional reactions - your mind is a lot larger than just the parts you can consciously feel.
When I put a character in a situation, I can make a conscious decision for what they'll do and then execute it, but I can also listen for ideas bubbling out of that inaccessible region of my mind. Most character ideas start out as a small set of conscious decisions on the part of the writer - "I'll make him a classical hero with a strong sense of justice" or "she'll be a strong but weary leader putting on a brave face" or "I'm playing an edgy rogue with a dark past" etc etc, quick and basic elevator pitches. But the characters come alive when they're allowed to grow down into the inaccessible parts of the mind, where consciousness gives way to emotions bubbling up from even deeper processes. Once the characters are allowed to start feeling things about their story - like "maybe that classical hero doesn't actually feel great about the lord they serve" or "the weary leader has an endless wellspring of vengeful rage to keep her going when she falters," more creative ideas for their next move start bubbling up. Things that don't flow logically from their elevator pitch, but make sense for the character that grows out of that pitch as they're allowed to engage with the world and story around them.
The way I build characters puts a focus on how they're feeling in any given situation, which is completely separate from what I, the writer of the plot, need them to do to move the plot in the direction I was planning. So sometimes I'll be writing something, and a little bubble of inspiration will pop up and let me know that, unexpectedly, this situation is really getting to one of the characters. And I can choose to keep them on track, or I can let their internal compass take over and see what makes the most sense to them at that moment of the story.
Characters are not real people, and they aren't as large or complex as a human mind, but in my experience, if you build a character solidly enough and give yourself room to play, they will grow down into your subconscious wellspring of creativity, and your mind will volunteer ideas to you using their voice. You don't need to use them, but it's very useful to cultivate them, because sometimes those ideas are better than anything you could consciously stick together in the public-spacing front of your mind.
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starsofang · 4 months
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Headbanger
Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Summary: John loves his goth girlfriend. TW: NSFW, MDNI, oral sex, dirty talk, p in v sex, this is honestly freaky nasty Collab with @141wh0re!! <3 Here’s her link! A/N: collab with the lovely skelly, who loves the idea of john with a goth girlfriend just as much as me that we decided to collab on it and write about it :p i do plan on writing another version of this with a dom goth girlfriend bc that idea has me going insane, but for now, i hope you enjoy this because it's a doozy. title inspired by babymetal bc i love them
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You threw John into a complete whirlwind when you first came into his life. It was totally unexpected, meeting you, but what was more unexpected was how attracted he was from the very beginning. You were like nothing he’d ever seen before, painted in heavy-set makeup with thickly layered eyeliner, fluttering lashes, and that black lipstick that had him holding on to the last bit of his sanity.
Now, whenever he’d seen pretty women like you who had a love for unique clothing and makeup, always adorned in various accessories and clothing that would cause heads to turn, he often brushed it to the back of his mind because really, what would a boring, old military man like him be doing with lovely goddesses like those?
The two of you clicked though, the dynamic quickly blossoming into a relationship that had John feeling alive again. Sure, he wasn’t an old man (as much as his task force loved to label him as one), but you had a youthful spirit that seemed to smooth out the stress lines on his face from years of grueling battles and hard-earned wins. It was like you were reminding him of how to live life again, rather than let it smother him until he couldn’t breathe.
You were also teaching him that he still had it in him to pop a boner every time he was remotely in your vicinity.
You were cooking up a meal in the kitchen? Hard.
You were lounging on the couch with your feet propped up in his lap? Hard.
You were sitting in front of the mirror, humming along to a song playing from your phone while you did your makeup? Painfully fucking hard.
It was the most mundane things you did that had him nearly pouncing on you like a dog in heat, but who could blame him, really? Besides, it’s not like you minded. You were just as bad as him.
Oftentimes, you’d wear something that you knew would get him riled up. You found that his particular favorite was when you’d strap on a tight corset around your waist, especially the ones that had dainty chains hanging loosely from it. Or, when you’d wear a choker, the thick leather strapped to your neck like a dog collar. John was barely able to restrain himself when you did yourself up like that.
Just like today, you could already see him out of the corner of your eye, silently watching you with tense fists resting in his lap while you finished up in the mirror. His eyes never left you, tracing over the sight of your steady hands carving out the shape of your lips with black lipstick, nor did they leave you when you stood up to enter the closet, tugging out a few clothing options to garner his opinion.
Holding up one of the dresses in your hold to show it off to him, you pretended to ignore the way his expression darkened into something more hungry.
“You think this one will look alright for tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in question as you gauged his response.
John decided it was time for you to meet his boys as he called them, the ones who kept him upright when he’d leave for an extended period of time on a mission, and you wanted to look your best. After all, impressions mattered, even more so when your style didn’t necessarily appeal to all societal standards – though, John wanted you to go as you are, unashamed of the way he could flaunt his goth-loving girlfriend like a trophy on a shelf.
John’s eyes fluttered over to the dress you held up before flicking back to you. “Mm. I like that one.”
You hummed in response, feigning ignorance to the way his voice seemed a bit more sultry, more strangled. He watched as you flipped up another dress option, silently asking for a second opinion, and the way his eyes narrowed didn’t go unnoticed. Of course, the second dress was one of his favorites, with the way it hugged your body while simultaneously cascading a nice flow of fabric that made you look even more entrancing to him. Like a goddess on Earth, and him a mere mortal who was starstruck.
“Playin’ a dangerous game here, love,” he gritted out, and you grinned at him, cocking your head.
“Your opinions are important to me, John.”
John released a breath, glancing back over to the dress, silently thinking. “That one,” he announced, jabbing his head in the direction of the second option. “So long as I can take it off of you by the end of the night.”
You raised an eyebrow at his implications, stalking over to where he sat on the bed to place the mesh of fabric down beside him. “Well, that’s always in the cards,” you mused. “Or you could be a doll and help me put it on for now.”
John groaned low under his breath, leaning back on his hands as they pressed into the soft foam of the mattress. He stared up at you with a look of adoration mixed with starved famish, and it sent heat waves through your entire body. He looked at you like you were his favorite meal while also as if you were the heavens above.
“What’s the use in puttin’ it on when I prefer you with it off?” he grumbled, hands coming up to grab hold of your hips now that you stood in front of him. He gently tugged you forward, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, fingers carding through his hair.
“Because your boys are expecting us. Your plans, by the way,” you teased, your long fingernails gently scratching at the back of his head, eliciting a low moan under his breath.
“M’sure they won’t mind waitin’ a bit,” he grumbled. You snickered in amusement, lightly gripping his hair to tilt his head back, peering down at him with a spark of interest. He smiled up at you, hands slipping off of your hips to instead wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap. “Too pretty of a woman to not want to ruin anyway.”
“I just did my makeup,” you protest, only for him to grin wider.
“That’s the whole point, sweetheart.” John leaned his head into your neck, tickling you with his beard and tracing his lips over your soft skin, pressing longing kisses along the column. You breathed out through your nose at the sensation. “Fuckin’ love the way you do it. Seeing you get all dolled up, god, makes me want to devour you. Such a pretty girl, you are.”
You let out a low hum, eyes fluttering shut as you tilted your head to grant him more access to your neck. His lips trailed along the snug leather that was seated along your neck, his hand coming up to tuck two fingers underneath it and pull you impossibly closer to him.
Chokers were one of his favorites specifically because of its uses. He’d play a game of tug of war with himself, taking advantage of the smooth collar to guide you in ways he wanted you. More importantly, he loved having it live up to the name in effortlessly choking you on occasion.
“Don’t know what a geezer like me did to settle with a woman like you,” he murmured against your skin before promptly pulling back to gaze up at you, eyes heavy with lustful desire.
John’s words sent warmth right down to your core, his praise turning you into an easy puddle of mush. You couldn’t help but shift on his lap in uncontained eagerness, lips parting as you stared at him. His eyes flickered down before leaning forward to take your bottom lip between both of his, giving a teasing suck before pulling back with a grin.
“Goin’ to let me take you, sweetheart?” His voice was hushed and alluring, breath fanning over your face. “Hm? Ruin that pretty makeup of yours just how you always like it?”
Your breath hitched and you were unable to pry your eyes away from his. His gaze was like a scorching burn that singed every inch of your skin.
“I’ll have to redo it if you do that,” you weakly argued, but he could see right through you.
“Never cared about it before,” he retorted right back, and you silently cursed him. John knew just how to rile you up and make you pliant, and unfortunately for you, it was working once again.
As if to persuade you further, he returned to his previous torment on your neck, dipping down to place them along the skin of your chest that peeked out beneath your sleep shirt you had yet to change out of. After all, it wasn’t like he had allowed you the chance to dress properly – yet.
John’s hands trailed up your sides and to your breasts, lightly groping them through the fabric of your shirt. You were a goner just from that, and there was no possible way you were going to deny his request, even if it meant being late to meeting his task force.
A protesting whine was on the tip of your tongue when he let go of them, sliding his hands back down your bottom and instead resting back on your hips, index fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips brushed along your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and an ache to form between your legs.
“Maybe just a quick one won’t hurt,” you reasoned, resulting in a hearty chuckle from him.
“Just a quick one,” he agreed before finally grasping the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. With your tits now free, he wasted no time in returning to circling his palms around the fat of them, head dipping down to take one of your nipples in between his lips. Upon contact, he let out a satisfied groan, sending muted vibrations through your body and causing you to whimper softly.
One of your hands tangled itself back into his hair, eagerly pressing him further into your breast, holding him there. He continued to suck greedily, occasionally taking you in between his teeth to lightly bite down, sending flutters in your stomach.
With one of his large hands keeping your breast firmly in place so he could continue his attack with his mouth, the other brushed down your nude sides, calloused fingers rough against the smoothness of your skin. They continued downward until reaching the waistline of your pants, some cute pajamas he’d given you a while back adorned with skulls (because they reminded him of you, of course).
He teased you, barely slipping his fingertips beneath the elastic band.
“John,” you whined. He pulled off of your breast with a small pop, giving you a smug look. “You said it would be a quick one.”
“Did I say that?” he hummed, pressing sloppy kisses along your chest, purposefully avoiding your perk nipples. “Sorry, sweetheart. Tend to lose a bit of my memory when I catch a glimpse of you.”
You snorted at his obvious teasing, opening your mouth to retort before you were promptly cut off by his fingers finally sliding into your waistband, eager to cup your cunt and slip up along your slit. A surprised gasp escaped you, and he grinned against your skin.
“Mm,” he groaned quietly, fingers delving underneath your panties so he could get a feel of the wetness coating them. “Don’t know how you expect me to be quick when you’re this fuckin’ wet. Makes me want to take my time with you.”
His middle finger felt through the warm slick before fixating on your clit, giving it an experimental roll. It caused your mouth to drop open, eyes fluttering. Instant heat flooded from your cunt, pulsating you with an aching burn. His ring finger joined his middle, circling your clit with a skilled routine.
“M’sure you want me to take my time, too, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked mockingly. You gazed at him through hooded eyelids before nodding dumbly, already tipsy off of his mere touch. “Thought so.”
His pace on your clit was steady and slow. Agonizing, unfulfilling, just enough to keep you on the edge of a crumbling cliff, but not enough to have you free falling. He loved working you into a messy turmoil, slowly breaking you until you were pleading for more. Ruining you.
All thoughts of having to get proper for meeting the boys were thrown out of the window the moment he swirled your clit in delicious ways, having you squirming for more in his lap, attempting to grind down on his hand. The whole time, he wore a devilish grin, taking in the way your mouth filtered out pleased sighs and gasps, the black lipstick staining your lips only adding fuel to the fire.
He wanted to see it smeared and messy, glossed over with your spit, wanted to see it smothering his body. It was an ache he needed to relieve.
“Y’know what I really want, sweetheart?” John asked, and you hummed in acknowledgement. “To see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
You moaned breathlessly, your hips lazily grinding down on his fingers as they tormented your clit. “It’s gonna stain.”
“Good.”
Much to your dismay, he removed his fingers from your pants, giving your hip a soft pat before you found yourself kneeling in front of him, his thighs spread, cock uncomfortably tight in his trousers. He leaned back, resting on his hands, staring down at your position with red hot desire. There was no mistaking his arousal from how he looked at you like you were his holy grail. He’d get on his own knees and pray to you if he could.
You eagerly fumbled with the buckle of his belt, working nimble fingers on his button and zipper. He watched with intensity, eyes focused on the black color that coated your nails with red and white designs as decoration. They were ones he paid for you to get done himself, with the exception of his initial painted on one of your fingers.
Your eyes shifted up to look at him while he lifted his hips so you could tug his pants down enough to tug him out of his boxers, and he nearly finished at the sight of you, long, fake eyelashes fluttering up at him. You were like an enticing siren, luring him into deep pools of black, dragging him down the bottomless pit. He’d happily let you, too.
John’s hand reached out to cup the back of your head, gently guiding you forward. You took in the sight of his cock, hard and thick, the tip flushed an angry red with a bead of precum pebbling at the slit. It was a mouthwatering sight.
You instinctively parted your lips to dart your tongue out, taking in the bitter sweetness of his preseed, enticing a groan from him. His fingers tightened in your hair, keeping you in a firm grip. It encouraged you to take him fully in your mouth, suckling lightly on the tip.
Allowing saliva to pool in your mouth for an easier glide, you slipped further down his cock, taking him halfway before pulling back up and releasing him. The tint of his skin was faintly colored by the lipstick you wore, but you knew John wanted more, wanted to see himself completely ruined by it.
John’s eyes fluttered down to take a look at his cock, his hand remaining in your hair. He let out a hum of approval. “Go on. Make a mess of my cock, hm?”
The tone of his voice was pure sin, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrapped your hand fully around his cock, keeping him steady to feed him back into your mouth. The taste of him burst on your tastebuds, and you found yourself seeking more of it, the mix of musk and soap from the shower he’d taken not too long ago.
Dipping your head deeper, you took as much as him as you could in your mouth before setting an easy pace. You let the hand in your hair tug you up and down, making sure to relax your throat when his hips began to shallowly buck into the sensation of your warmth.
“Fuck, look at you,” he cooed, voice raspy and heavenly. “Such a pretty girl, takin’ it so well.”
You hummed around him, and the feeling made him groan, head falling back.
The more you went down on him, the more drool pooled around your lips, dribbling down your chin. It was a messy work of art, your lipstick smudging around his cock as well as the corners of your mouth, just like he wanted. It coated him with smeared black, leaving streaks behind with every bob of your head.
His groans and grunts filled your ears like sweet melodies, becoming more strangled and raspy ghe more he succumbed to your notions. Eager to hear more, you slid further down until your nose tickled along the pubes that lined his pelvis, throat relaxing around him enough to allow him the intrusion.
“Fuck,” he moaned, gripping your hair tighter and pressing you into him impossibly closer, bucking up into you and causing you to gag. His eyes found yours from where you were swallowed around his dick, darkened with heated want. “That’s it. Take all of it.”
You were eager to please, so you continued, pulling back to suckle the tip just to fall back down to the base. His hips began thrusting up to match your pace, fucking your face while maintaining gentleness as not to hurt you (though, you wouldn’t mind that either, nor would it be the first time he did it).
You could tell from the way his thighs tensed and flexed, and the way his hand tangled your hair in a vice, that he was beginning to unravel. Heat pooled into his abdomen, his cock twitching in your mouth.
Your eyes locked with his, eyelashes fanning up prettily. Your lipstick was ruined, plastering all around his dick like a drunken painting, stalking a claim on him.
John let out a shuddered groan, hips bucking up one last time before his cum spilled down your throat, forcing you to swallow it down. It was a bitter taste that you couldn’t get enough of, greedily taking it for yourself.
You only pulled away when it became too stimulating for him, his hand guiding you off and loosening its grasp. You waited patiently for him to catch his breath, planting a sloppy kiss on his muscled thigh, tattooing a lipstick mark on it to match his cock.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he gasped out, staring down at you with a dazed smile. His hand reached out to brush his thumb along your glossy bottom lip, smudging a bit of the lipstick further, or at least what remained of it. “C’mon, it’s your turn, yeah? God, just want to ruin you.”
You sucked in a sharp breath when he helped you stand from your knees and to your feet, only to press you right down on the mattress, bent over with your ass perked up for him.
His fingers slipped under the waistline of your pants and shimmied you out of them, leaving you bare and exposed. The sight of you caused him to sigh blissfully, a large hand groping one of your asscheeks and spreading you apart to see the glistening wetness waiting for him.
“Fuckin’ wet, aren’t you, doll? Bet you don’t even need any prep, think you can take me now?”
You whined pathetically, arching a bit more for him to admire the display, head resting comfortably on your crossed arms. You gave him a lazy nod in response, wiggling a bit more.
The pads of his fingers slid through your slick, spreading it along your puffy lips, creating an even bigger mess than before.
They didn’t linger for long before you felt the head of his cock slip through, lubing himself up with your own wetness, occasionally catching on to your clit and causing you to gasp and squirm. A firm hand smacked across your ass, drawing a whimper from you.
“Sit still. Got to make it quick, remember, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t care less about being late to meeting his force. Now that you were desperate to feel the fullness of him inside your weeping walls, it was the last thing on your mind.
Finally, the head of his cock pressed past your first ring of muscle, making your mouth drop open and the breath to get caught in your throat. He pressed more and more, filling you up until it was nearly too much, his hips rested against your ass.
“Fuck, there we go. Such a pretty thing,” he cooed, pulling his hips back just to press back into you with a shallow thrust. It was too much, while not enough. “Sorry ‘bout the makeup, sweetheart.”
You opened your mouth to reply before the words were forced back in when he snapped his hips at a more brutal pace, leaving you speechless and cockdrunk.
John took no mercy on you, meaning it when he said he’d make it quick. He fucked into you with a grueling burn of desire, jolting your body with every thrust, surging you further up the bed. When he felt you slipping away from you, he dipped two fingers under the choker around your neck from behind, tugging you back and holding you up for him to use freely, the leather digging into your throat deliciously.
You released whiny, strangled moans, filling the room with intoxicating noise that filtered through his ears and lit up a fire in his body. Tears began to form along your lash line, dripping down your cheeks and streaking your makeup in a messy trail of black eyeliner and mascara.
You looked absolutely wrecked.
“Good fuckin’ girl, look at you,” he praised, keeping his fingers around your choker but leaning over your backside so he could get a view of your face, grinning devilishly at the sight. “Beautiful.”
“John,” you gasped out, voice broken and shaky, resulting in a smug snicker on his end.
“Yeah, sweetheart? Like bein’ ruined by me, hm?”
You nodded dumbly, mind completely blank of anything other than his cock as it plunged in and out, knocking the wind out of you.
He chuckled again, tightening his grip on the choker and forcing you to arch impossibly more, slapping his hips into the plush of your ass and feeding into the red hot need you’re seeking.
The muscles in your stomach tightened, threatening to snap at any moment. It felt good, so good it had you moaning out his name without so much of a care at how loud you were being.
It only egged him on, releasing his own raspy moans and grunts. Sweat beaded his eyebrow, dripping down the side of his face as he focused on giving you all of him and more.
Simmering heat built into a bushfire, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. You were teetering on the edge, and as if he knew it, he picked up the pace, causing you to clench around him, sucking him in with a tight grip.
“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, smoothing his hand that wasn’t gripping your choker up your back and worming its way to your front, plucking one of your nipples between his fingertips. It sent a jolt through you, even more so when that same hand dipped down to circle your clit with his cock rutting into you.
Your orgasm hit you like a truck, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your cunt squeezed around him, his hips stuttering and pace becoming sloppy at the sensation, before a long moan left his lips. Warmth flooded inside of your cunt, painting your walls white and leaving you full.
Heavy breaths left both of you, gasping for air. John slowly pulled out of you, brushing his thumb against your cunt and marveling at the white cum that threatened to seep out.
“Think we’ll still be late?” he asked cheekily, and you let out a breathy laugh, reaching an arm back to gently push him away.
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You were, in fact, late. Having to redo your makeup and throw together an outfit, decorating your look with your normal display of jewelry and accessories, you ended up at the bar roughly twenty minutes after the original meeting time.
John tugged you inside, seemingly unbothered by your shared carelessness, introducing you to his boys with a proud smile. He didn’t hesitate to drag you along to the bar for some drinks after a brief conversation, hand resting on your lower back in a show of possession.
“Didn’t know Cap was into goth chicks,” Gaz muttered in disbelief, eyes staring the two of you down and taking in your unique clothing and otherworldly makeup choice.
“Shit, I might have to hop on the fuckin’ train,” Soap murmured in awe, earning a sharp kick to his shin from Ghost beneath the table.
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silentcryracha · 1 year
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❍ ‗ Baby Fever (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍
Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader
Genre/warnings : Just fluff! Mentions of pregnancies and giving birth (no graphic/explicit)
Summary : One of your best friends just had a baby, so you and your longtime boyfriend Hyunjin go see the new family, ending the day with unexpected plans.
Word count : 3.3 k
A/n : Damn this turned out long. I truly can't help it apologies (lol). Anyways this is something that I would've wrote regardless I think, but the inspiration definitely came from the recent video of Hyune, Felix and Innie with the baby. They got baby fever and so did I, what can I say :')
ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎
Part two and Three are out!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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As soon as you got the call from your best friend's husband, you were overjoyed. The couple had been married for some years by now and really wished to start a family. They encountered some issues along the way, but finally their baby boy was here!
After waiting a day for her to rest a bit, you managed to make arrangements for you and Hyunjin to go see them and the baby and make your congratulations in person. You were both so happy and excited for your friends, knowing for how long they've been wanting to have children.
Around five pm you got dressed, got into the car and headed for the hospital.
"Did you text him already?" your boyfriend asked, placing his free hand on your thigh an softly stroking the clothed skin. You smiled, looking up from your phone and then at him.
"Yes, right now. He told me the floor and room number." you replied, placing your own hand on his, intertwining your fingers. "I'm so happy for them, Hyune. They're gonna be such good parents, don't you think?" a hint of emotion in your voice.
He gazed at you for a second then went back to look at the road ahead, an endearing smile on his face.
"Yes they will. That child really got lucky, he's gonna be so loved." you couldn't help but smile wider and squeeze his hand slightly at his words.
After that, the ride remained in a comfortable silence, the radio softly playing in the background. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm but not overwhelmingly so. Just perfect.
After about fifteen minutes you reached the hospital and Hyunjin took his hand off you to put them both back on the steering wheel to park. You got out of the car and started walking towards the entrance.
You felt his hand search for yours, so you intertwined your fingers and gave him a small smile that he reciprocated. You entered the building and headed for the elevators, reaching the maternity ward in a few minutes.
"This place is a maze, gosh" you commented quietly and he hummed in agreement. Just at that moment you looked around and found the room's number.
"There it is!" you said excitedly, dragging Hyunjin's hand slightly. He chuckled at your smiley face and stood beside you as you knocked gently on the door. A couple of seconds later the door opened, revealing an older woman that you didn't recognize.
You were a bit taken aback but she quickly smiled politely and moved to the side to let you two enter the room.
"Good afternoon, ma'am" Hyunjin bowed his head respectfully and you did the same, offering a polite smile. Before you could even ask, the lady introduced herself as your friend's husband mother and let you inside, closing the door again behind you.
"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am, congratulations" you said smiling. She nodded with a happy expression as if to accept the greeting, and then extended her arm towards the other end of the room where you saw your friend laying in bed, a glass of water in her hands.
She was looking over to the side with a smile, towards what you recognized to be her mother and her own husband, whom was gently cradling a small bundle in his arms.
"Your friends are here" the lady next to you announced, reclaiming their attention. Everyone looked in your direction, saying hi to you and Hyunjin and inviting you to come closer. You did, firstly greeting your friend's mother quickly and then bending down to give the new mom a hug.
"Congratulations, I'm so proud of you" you said softly, seeing her eyes a little glassy when you retreated from the hug.
"Thank you, honey. And stop with that face, don't make me cry now!" she exclaimed, pointing at you jokingly. You didn't quite understand which face exactly you were making, but quickly realized that you must've been a little moved too from the little sniffle that you let out. Hyunjin titled his head slightly to see your face at her words.
"Sorry!" you laughed it off casually and circled the bed, getting closer to the new dad whom just smiled as if to invite you to get closer. At the same time, you faintly heard Hyunjin greeting and congratulating your friend too.
"Can I hold him?" you asked quietly, almost timidly. The man nodded with a faint chuckle at your uncertainty and responded "Of course, come here auntie" you smiled and prepared yourself to welcome the baby in your arms as gently as possible.
As soon as he was in your arms you looked down; He was sleeping peacefully, only fussing and moving a little every now and then. The conversations were still going on in the background, but you were completely concentrated on the little guy in your arms.
Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, which made you look up to see Hyunjin standing behind you, towering over you both. He had a small smile and was also looking down at the baby. You didn't even notice your friend's husband moving on the other side of the room to talk with his mother.
"He has cute chubby cheeks." he commented, a hint of humor in his voice but still endeared. You let out a faint laugh, trying to not move too much. That must've woken him up though, because his little eyelids fluttered revealing his cute eyes. You both smiled at the child.
"Oh, hello there. Did you sleep well, mh?" you cooed, lulling him gently. He blinked a few times, looking curiously at the two of you that clearly weren't his mom and dad. Hyunjin raised his and and slowly extended his fingertip to touch the baby's hand.
"Hi, little one. How are you- ...oh!" he gasped softly when he wrapped his little hand around his pointer finger. You chuckled and awed at the same time, looking up at your boyfriend's face that had a cute shocked expression on his face.
"You're already friends with uncle Hyune!" you joked, smiling down at your new nephew. Hyunjin moved the finger gently up and down to make him play a bit.
"Of course we are! See, he's also smiling at her auntie y/n" he chuckled lovingly when the baby did actually smile at you. It was a shy one at first but seeing you both so excited must've convinced him to allow you a bigger one, his eyes turning into crescents.
"He's so cute!" you whined overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment. "You want to hold him?" he looked at you, a little uncertain.
"I mean, uh..can I?" his gaze searching for one of the parents. At that point you started to feel your cheeks heat up a bit. You forgot that other people were even in the room!
"Sure, go ahead Y/n." your best friend responded with a knowing smile on her face. Still a little embarrassed for forgetting yourself, you gently passed the bundle in Hyunjin's arms. He fixed his position and put him against his chest. He was glad to be wearing a comfortable hoodie in that moment. You didn't say anything for a while, just exchanging silent looks with your boyfriend. The energy between you felt quite intense, but comfortable at the same time.
"See, you guys are already pros at this." you both turned your attention towards the voice. It was your best friend's, which currently had a pretty amused expression on her face. She sipped some juice from her straw and raised an eyebrow at you specifically. You took the hint and shrugged it off with a "Don't be silly, we've been here for five minutes and he was sleeping." you replied, choosing to keep it on the humorous side.
Hyunjin on the other hand was still happily and comfortably cradling the baby, whom seemed to have fallen back asleep in the meantime. You could tell that he started to feel an extra pair of eyes watching him so he decided that it was time to give the kid back to his own parents.
He carefully walked to the opposite end of the bed and with and awkward smile placed the baby back into his father's arms, exchanging a polite nod. He then stepped back again and joined your side, circling your waist with one hand.
"You are a very beautiful couple" one of the two older women commented, with the other jumping in quickly with "How long have you been together?" and "Are you married yet?".
You were a bit shocked at the sudden questions that the two women were throwing at you like dart to a target. You and Hyunjin exchanged a look, both unsure on how to answer. But gladly your friend's husband intervened in your place.
"Mom, stop being nosy. They've only been together for two years, they have plenty of time to think about these things, right?" you both nodded awkwardly.
"All right, all right. The grandmothers have been here all day, I think this our opportunity to say our goodbyes." one said, kissing her daughter on the head and then going towards the father and child to also plant a kiss on his cheek and the little one's head softly.
"Yes I agree, your father has already been waiting for me to get home for an hour. We'll come back tomorrow, my darling." the other lady got on her tippy toes to kiss her son and grandson on the cheek, and then quickly turning to bend down and hug the mom.
"It was a pleasure to meet you both." they got closer, jackets and handbags in hand ready to go. You and Hyunjin bowed your heads again politely. "For us too, ma'ams" your boyfriend replied, before you added a "Have a safe trip home, and good evening".
After that the two older ladies waved goodbye one more time and exited the room, closing the door behind them. You turned to your friend, slightly more comfortable now that you could talk more freely.
"How are you doing? How's the pain?" you reached the side of the bed, sitting opposite to her. She huffed and took another sip of water before replying "Well I mean, my vagina is in shambles right about now, if we want to get into the specifics" everyone laughed except Hyunjin that offered a tight lipped smile, being a little taken aback by your friend's bluntness.
"I am on good stuff now so I'm feeling pretty decently, God help me when the medication wear out though." she kept going. You laughed a bit and then looked up at her husband who was still lulling their son.
"It was worth it though, wasn't it?" you replied, more as a rethorical question than anything. She sighed deeply and reached out to hold the little baby's hand gently.
"Of course it was. He was worth everything." she said, love in her eyes and voice. She exchanged a look with her husband, whom was clearly silently agreeing. You decided to switch your own gaze to Hyunjin, leaving them their private moment.
But what you found was maybe even more intense: your boyfriend whom was now leaning against the wall opposite to you with his arms crossed, head slightly tilted to the side, and an intense expression on his face. You could never mistake the love in Hyunjin's eyes.
You felt your eyes getting teary again so you decided to stand back up and move around a bit, trying to shift the energy in the room.
"In any case, one thing is for sure, this baby boy will be his auntie's best friend. Isn't that right, sweetcheeks?" you smiled at the child that actually did smile back, and even let out a small chuckle.
"Oh wow! I fear that you may be right!" your friend joked, sending funny expressions towards her own baby. "But I don't want auntie y/n to steal you away!" she kept going, making you laugh carelessly, until she added another phrase that made you freeze.
"Hyune, when are you going to give her one of her own?" all the eyes were pointed at him. Your mouth slightly agape, not sure how to respond, but surprisingly his answer was quick and left everyone speechless for a moment.
"Whenever she wants." he replied nonchalant. After a few seconds he detached himself from the wall and calmly walked over the rest of them, caressing the baby's head one more time and then nodding in acknowledgment to both the mom and the dad. "Thank you for allowing us to meet your beautiful son, again, congrats".
He then walked over to you with a small smile,"I have to make a call now so I'll get going to the car. Y/n, you can come when you're ready." he placed a kiss on your mouth, caressed your cheek swiftly and then exited the room. A couple of moments of silence followed, everyone was speechless.
"Damn that was..." the husband began, "Hot." your friend finished the sentence. You picked up your jacket and got ready to say your goodbyes.
"Uh, I think I should go now." you said a little awkwardly, but all you got in return were amused smiles.
"Yes sure y/n, thank you for coming." the man said, leaning forward a bit to peck your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgement at him and waved a bit to the small baby. "Bye little one, let's meet soon" you cooed as he looked up at you with big eyes.
"Thank you for letting us come, and again congrats." you reached down to give your friend a quick hug.
"Yeah yeah of course. Now go to your man, he's waiting for you." then she made the phone sign mouthing at you to call her later. You rolled your eyes and said bye one more time before exiting the room and back to the path for the exit of the hospital.
Your mind was full of questions. You and Hyunjin have been together for about two years now, almost three, and yes you've had those casual questions that one usually asks in the first stages of dating. The ones that go "So are you searching for a serious commitment or do you just want to hook up for a couple of months and that's it?"
Those kind of selective, honest questions. In your case, you had both been clear from the beginning that you were searching for something important, that if evolved in the right direction may end up with some more stable future plans. But you never explicitly talked about getting married nor having a family together.
If you were to be honest, you wouldn't think about it twice. If he proposed to you tonight you would say yes, immediately. If he asked you to have a baby with him, you would immediately say yes. That's the level of love, affection and trust that you had in your relationship, you knew it and he did too. But everything always went on so...smoothly that you didn't even had to bring it up. But maybe tonight was the night.
Those were the thoughts that ran through your mind as you approached the car. Hyunjin was still outside, leaned on it and peacefully scrolling through his phone. His face illuminated by the artificial light in contrast to the reddish, pinkish and orange shades that were in the sky. The sun was setting.
As soon as he noticed your arrival he put the phone in his jeans' backpocket and offered you a sweet smile and a gentle kiss on the lips. You melted into it for a couple of seconds, when he retreated.
"Shall we go?" he asked, making you nod. Always the gentlemen, he opened the car door for you and closed it once you were inside. Then he circled the car and got into his own driver's seat. In a couple of minutes he got out of the parking lot and then started driving.
You were in a comfortable silence, as you often were, but you could feel something lingering in the air, almost as if you were both waiting for the other to speak first. In the end you decided to at least start the conversation with something random, just to break the silence.
"Can I turn on the aircon?" his head turned quickly for a second towards you, then he extended his hand himself turning on the fresh air.
"Are you feeling hot?" he asked. His hand moved to rest on your thigh. It was a habit of his when you two were in the car. You were glad that he did that, lifting a bit of pressure from the situation. Or maybe it was you? Did you read too much into what he said?
"Y/n?" his voice reclaimed your attention making you realize that you forgot to respond to him.
"Uh, sorry honey. Yes, just a little." he side eyed you, squeezing your leg just slightly.
"Is something wrong?" his tone was confused but still gentle. You shook your head, taking the hand that was on your thigh and stroking it a little to reassure him.
"No no...I was just lost in thought." you answered, waiting a couple of seconds to continue, "I was very glad to see her doing so well, And the baby, too. So cute, isn't he?" He nodded, smiling softly while keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah. I expected some crying though" he laughed softly and you joined him.
"Well, you were very good. He even smiled at you! You're already friends." you joked, still keeping your tone lighthearted. His smile was a bit more serious though. His gaze landed on you for a few seconds.
"You also did very well." he said with sincerity, "We'll do very well." you head snapped in his direction when he said that. He noticed for sure but chose to play it off. You didn't realize that you were already home.
"What do you mean?" you blurted out. He cleared his throat, a blush starting to creep on his cheeks. He maneuvered the car and parked in front of the building. He waited until the car was off and in place to talk. Then he finally turned his body to you,
"I just mean...you know-" he seemed to struggle a bit with his words but you waited patiently. Deep inside you, you already knew where this conversation was going but the amount of emotions that came with it weren't easy to handle.
"I mean that we would probably do a good job in a situation like this. That is of course if you'll want to be with me to experience it." he finally said, a little quickly maybe, but each and every word sank in perfectly in your mind.
"Yes" the response was immediate, "Of course I want to be with you. Of course I would love to have a family with you. I love you so much, Hyunjin. Like I've never loved anyone, ever" you were getting a little choked up, but he just smiled brightly and then leaned in to kiss you softly. Both of his hands going up to cup your cheeks.
"So, if I supposedly asked you to marry me right now..." his eyes, so sweet and hopeful, looking into yours. You smiled, laughing both in happiness and at the absolute absurdity of the situation.
"Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" you both laughed and kissed again. His eyes were also getting shiny with emotion.
"I'm going to ask you again properly, ring and everything, I promise." he said, making you chuckle. "I just think that the moment was right." you nodded in agreement, also cupping his cheek.
"I know, I love you" Hyunjin kissed you one more time, lingering for a couple more seconds, then rested his forehead against yours.
"I love you too, so much."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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the-offside-rule · 7 months
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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Embarassing
Requested: yes
Prompt: 3) "His smile gives me butterflies"
Warnings: alcohol maybe idk
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Y/n, the brilliant Red Bull strategist, reveled in the success of another 1-2 finish for the team. The victory celebration echoed through the night, and with each cheer, Y/n's heart raced. As the party reached its peak, she found herself drowning her nerves in a bit too much alcohol. In the dimly lit corner of the party, Y/n sat alone, contemplating the stars above. Max Verstappen, unaware of her intoxicated state, noticed her isolation and decided to check on her. "Hey, everything alright?" Max inquired, concern etched on his face as he sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her to show his support.
"I'm just here, having a moment. You know, thinking about someone." Max, intrigued yet puzzled, sat beside her. "Someone special, huh?" Y/n nodded, a dreamy expression settling on her face. "You won't believe it. I'm head over heels in love with Max Verstappen! Can you imagine? His smile gives me butterflies, and when he races, it's like my heart is on the track with him." Max, amused, played along. "You think so?" She nodded. "And his determination, Max never gives up. It's inspiring. Also, that Dutch accent is-" She paused lifting her glass to her lips. "It's something else."
Max couldn't hold back his laughter. "You seem to know him quite well." Y/n nodded, blissfully unaware. "Oh, absolutely! I have have come up up his strategy like all the time. I wish I could tell him how much I love him." Max, enjoying the banter, decided to play along. "Well, maybe you should." Max looked at her with admiration. She was seen as somewhat of a recluse at Red Bull. Yes, she was lovely but she was serious about her job and worked so hard to prove she was serious, that Max and many other team members were unaware she was even capable of being able to love someone. "I will! Next time I see him."
"Shouldn't be too hard. You're in a huge nightclub with him." Y/n nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and the way he talks about racing, it's so passionate. I could listen to him talk about it all day." Y/n sighed, blissfully unaware that she was talking to the very person she was gushing about. Max chuckled, enjoying the unexpected revelation. "Well, I'm flattered. Thanks for the compliment."
"Wait, what?" She turned. Max smiled and put his hand out. "Max Verstappen." He said teasingly. Y/n's eyes widened, realization hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. "Wait, what? Oh my- Max, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't know it was you." Max laughed, genuinely appreciating her honesty. "No worries. It's flattering. Let me walk you back to the party." As they stood up, Y/n, suddenly shy, looked down. "I should probably go. I've embarrassed myself enough." Before Max could even say a word, off she went stumbling away. Max followed, but in the crowded venue, he lost sight of her. The party continued, but Max couldn't shake off the amusing encounter and the even more amusing strategist
The next day in the buzzing Red Bull factory, Y/n immersed herself in her work, determined to focus on strategy and leave the embarrassing incident behind. As she studied data and simulations, Max casually strolled through the facility, inspecting the ongoing progress. He eventually found his way to Y/n's desk, where she was engrossed in her tasks. Max leaned against the edge of the desk, smirking, "Hello, darling."
Y/n's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I, uh, I think I may have said some things at the party." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Max, still amused as he was the night before grinned. "Oh, you mean the Max Verstappen love fest?" Y/n cringed. "Yeah, that. Sorry about that." She hid her head in her hands as Max simply laughed. He interrupted with a playful grin, "No need to apologize. I thought it was cute, actually. If you ever want to show that side of you more often, feel free."
Y/n blinked in surprise, and Max reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He jotted down his number and slid it across her desk, winking mischievously. "In case you need someone to talk to about your Max Verstappen crush." Flustered but intrigued, Y/n managed a shy smile. "Thanks, Max. I'll... keep that in mind." Max nodded, giving her a knowing look, and continued his stroll through the factory. Y/n couldn't help but replay the interaction in her mind, a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
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sinnah8 · 1 year
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If universes aligned
pairing: Miguel o hara x Spidergirl!reader
Prompt: Miguel falling for Spidergirl!reader and being a complete simp for her whenever she is around him
a/n: I got this request from alathan13 ty! I added a bit of a twist. send me some requests!!!
Masterlist | ask
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Miguel was stuck in a different dimension because of Lyla. The prototype for the watch worked but she couldn't get him back. So he decided to find a Spiderman and that's when he met Y/n Spider girl.
He couldn't stop thinking about Y/n once he came back after being with her for a month and getting to know her. Miguel knew he had to find a way to confess his feelings to her, even though the odds seemed against him.
One day, as fate would have it, Miguel managed to track down a dimensional rift that led him to y/n universe. Determined to seize the opportunity, he mustered up all his courage and entered the portal.
Emerging in a world unfamiliar to him, Miguel found himself in the heart of the city where y/n patrolled. He awaited her arrival As soon as she appeared Miguel's heart skipped a beat.
"Y/n!" he called out, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and hope.
Y/n paused mid-air, looking around to locate the source of the voice. Her gaze fell upon Miguel, and recognition flickered in her eyes. Descending gracefully, she landed in front of him.
"Miguel? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise.
Taking a deep breath, Miguel gathered his thoughts. "Y/n, I traveled across dimensions to be with you. The first time I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. Your strength, your bravery, and your unwavering commitment to justice... they've touched me in a way I can't describe."
Y/n studied him intently, her masked eyes revealing a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Miguel, this is unexpected. We come from different worlds, different realities. How can this be?"
Miguel's eyes met hers "I don't have all the answers, Y/n. But what I do know is the connection I feel towards you. I've fallen for you, and I can't ignore these emotions any longer. You inspire me to be a better person, to fight for what's right. I want to be by your side, no matter the challenges we may face."
y/n remained silent for a moment. "Miguel, this is a lot to take in. Our lives are intertwined with dangers. But I can't deny how I feel about you, even across dimensions. there's a reason our paths have crossed."
Hope surged through Miguel as he heard her words made him feel seen and understood. Y/n raised her hand to his cheek and kissed him on the lips knowing what she was doing was wrong but she didn't care.
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konaharts · 7 months
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RadioStatic Week 2024
First Meeting
[I'm probably not going to do all the days due to work, but I wanted to draw at least this one!
I know they most likely met while Vox was building a video/tv empire in Hell, but I couldn't get this one scenario out of my head of Alastor finding Vox shortly after he arrives in Hell. Enjoy this mini-fic I wrote about it!]
The sinner was scrawny, a picture box laying on his shoulders, the glass having been broken in by the demons Alastor had just chased away. What looked like a face occasionally flashed on the screen.
The Radio Host's eyes scrunched up in disgust, his very personal feelings and opinions about televisions flooding into him. He should have passed on by.
Whoever this sinner was, he was possibly one of the most pathetic-looking sinners Alastor had ever laid his eyes upon.
Even so, a sinner down on his luck was another opportunity for a deal and another avenue to grow his power.
"My, my. You look like you've seen better days! Welcome to Hell, my good fellow!"
At the sound of the Radio Demon's voice, the newest arrival to Hell turned his head, the broken screen flashing, occasionally illuminating Alastor's face. A distorted, filtered voice with uneven volume emanates from the picture box, words occasionally repeating and stuttering due to the damage.
"H-H-Hell? W-W-Wał₮…I. I. I. I. Kn-Know th-th-₮Ⱨ₳₮ voł₵Ɇ."
Alastor paused.
"Oh?"
"A-A-Al₳₴₮ØⱤ ████████. ₣ⱤØ₥ ₮ⱧɆ ███ ███████ RadĐłØ ₴ⱧØ₩. I-I-It's beɆ₦ ɎɆ₳Ɽ₴, b-b-but I re₵Ø₲₦łⱫɆ th₳₮ vØł₵Ɇ."
This was unexpected. With the wave of his cane, Alastor's powers begin to turn the clock on the sinner's face, repairing it, piece by piece.
"You've heard of me?"
"Ⱨ₳ve I?" The last bit of machinery and glass push themselves in, the cracks instantly healing. A flash, and a now-complete face graces the screen. The distorted voice disappears, replaced by the voice of an enthusiastic man with a filter similar to Alastor's own. "Why, you're my inspiration!" The sinner's face beams with excitement.
Finally, some proper recognition in this hellhole. Alastor's grin turns into a wide smile. Dare he say, genuine, for once?
"Well, well, well! What a surprise! It's not everyday I come across someone who's heard of me before falling into the pits of Hell! Tell me,"
Alastor helps up the television man and straightens his antenna.
"What do they call you, ol' chum?"
The sinner hesitates. No doubt someone or something had informed him about how sinners tend to change their names upon arriving in Hell.
"…Vox."
A peculiar name.
"Well, Voxy, I know a place with the best drinks this side of town! Let's have a chat and get you settled in, hm?"
With an arm around his shoulder, Alastor leads Vox away. Despite his reservations with the...asset...Hell had so graciously gifted this poor soul as a head, maybe having someone with knowledge about television that he could manipulate wouldn't be so bad.
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xomakara · 2 months
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Welcome Home
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(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)
SUMMARY | In which you jump Seonghwa’s bones after he comes home from tour.
PAIRING | Seonghwa x Reader
GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | Idol!Seonghwa, non-idol!Reader, smut with no plot, literally just pure unadulterated filthy smut, consensual sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby), praise kink, kitchen counter sex, filthy sex, oral sex
RATING | Mature, Explicit, 18+, NSFW, MDNI
LENGTH | 3,281 words
TAGLIST |  @noir-aria
NETWORKS |  @cromernet (reuploaded so only tagging nets that haven't reblogged it yet)
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Literally wrote this in like 4 hours because my friend wanted me to. just pure, filthy pwp doesn't take me that long to write lolol. Apologies if it sounds rushed or whatnot lol. My friend sent me this video and I was inspired lololol. And now I shall drown myself in holy water.
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Seonghwa was not ready for the attack you launched at him when he strode into the apartment after a few months of touring, but he was never one to turn you down. You'd jumped him in the entryway, lips finding his and legs around his waist before he could even get his jacket off.
He had his hands under your ass, keeping you from falling, and when he tried to pull away, you bit his lip, earning a deep groan. You smirked at him, and he walked forward, pressing your back into the wall and kissing you deeply. Your fingers slid into his hair and you tugged him closer, your body grinding against his.
You moaned softly, and he pulled away, "I missed you, baby." He murmured, kissing your jaw. “But why the sudden attack?" He asked.
You pouted, "You're supposed to be happy." You said, and he laughed.
"Baby, I am happy. I'm very, very happy. But this is unexpected. Not that I'm complaining." He said, squeezing your ass and kissing you again. "It's just, I expected a nice greeting, a kiss, a hug, maybe something to eat, and a shower."
"But-"
"But nothing." He said, "I'm not upset. I just wanted to know what had you so needy. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."
You looked at him, biting your lip, "I don’t like watching my boyfriend half naked and gyrating his hips through a screen. I know it’s your job but just the thought of other girls seeing your naked chest or your sexy, smoldering looks...I don't like it. I don’t share, Seonghwa.”
"Awww baby." He smiled, kissing you, "How many times do I have to tell you I only have eyes for you? You're the only one I want to see, the only one I want to be with. It's always been you and only you. So, no worries."
"Mmm, still." You hummed, nuzzling into his neck, your feet landing back on the ground.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He asked, hands on your hips.
“Nope."
"Fine. I'm sorry for being a sexy, gyrating, half-naked idol on stage and making you all hot and bothered. There. Will you forgive me now?" He said, leaning in close and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"No." You said, and he raised his brows, surprised.
"You're mad." He said.
"Yes."
"Because I'm a sexy gyrating half-naked idol onstage that makes you all hot and bothered."
"Yes."
"So, what's the solution here? I'm sorry. I'll wear a shirt next time. Or I'll do some hip thrusts and then I can take my shirt off and I can do the thrusting thing.
"I'm not mad at you for doing your job. I'm mad that you're sexy and I don't like the thought of other people seeing you like that. I don't want anyone else to have that view."
"So, you want to claim me. Mark me. Make me yours." He said, and you nodded. "You want to tie me down and mark every inch of my body with your lips."
"Yes. I do."
"Hmm. What are we going to do about that?" He said, smirking.
You pushed him back until he hit the wall, dropping to your knees in front of him, your fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. You tugged his pants and boxers down, and his cock sprang out. He was already hard and throbbing.
“Fuck…” Seonghwa let out a moan as your lips wrapped around his cock. Your mouth is warm and wet, and it feels so good to Seonghwa that he just has to let out a loud moan. You start sucking him, going all the way to the base before slowly going back up, tongue swirling on the tip and then licking down the vein on the underside.
You repeat this a few more times, and every time Seonghwa lets out a string of profanities, saying how good it feels and how you are the only one who can do it. His fingers run through your hair and grips them, but he doesn't force your head down, letting you work your magic at your own pace.
And you love the noises he makes, moans and grunts coming out from his plump lips. He's the prettiest like this, you thought, pants down, lips parted, eyes closed and head thrown back, exposing the column of his neck. He looks ethereal, a sight to behold, and he's yours, only yours.
You start moving faster, bobbing your head and swallowing around his cock. You feel his hips twitch and thrust up, pushing his dick even deeper inside your mouth, and you moan, the vibrations making him groan loudly.
"Fuck, angel. You’re doing so well, taking my cock so good. Such a good girl." He praises you, making you look up. Seonghwa is staring at you, mouth parted and eyes half-lidded, looking so fucking hot that you felt yourself get wetter.
You continue sucking him, hollowing your cheeks as you pull out and lapping at the head when you come back down. Your tongue swirls around the tip and then you suck him again. Seonghwa's hands are in your hair, not moving, just keeping you in place.
You pull away, lips red and swollen, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick.
"Seonghwa," you say, voice hoarse and rough. "You love it when I suck your cock?"
"God, yes, baby. It feels so good." He groans as you go back down on him, bobbing your head up and down quickly.
"You like seeing my lips wrapped around your cock? Do you think I look pretty?" You ask him, and Seonghwa nods frantically, telling you how good you look, and how pretty your mouth looks while you suck him.
"Yeah? Am I pretty for you, Hwa?"
"Yes, so fucking pretty." Seonghwa moans out. "God, so pretty, all mine."
You continue sucking him, taking him down until you almost gagged. His hips buck up, and you moan.
"I want to cum, baby. Make me cum." He says.
You keep going, moving up and down his shaft, tongue pressing at the sensitive spot on the underside. Seonghwa is a moaning mess, saying your name like a prayer, and it turns you on even more, and you are sure that your panties are ruined by now.
He pulls your head back and tells you to open your mouth.
"Stick your tongue out, angel." He says, and you obey. You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, and Seonghwa holds his cock and starts pumping it quickly, eyes fixed on your tongue.
"Fuck, such a pretty sight." He murmurs, and he cums, his release landing on your tongue and face. You moan at the feeling of his warm cum on your skin. Seonghwa continues to pump his cock, and some of his release lands on your cheeks, lips, and chin.
When he's done, he pulls you up and kisses you hungrily. He can taste himself on your lips, and it turns him on.
"You're so dirty, angel." He whispers, licking his own cum off your lips. "Such a dirty girl, letting me cum on your pretty little face."
"You made me like this, Hwa." You reply. "And now, you have to take care of me."
"I will." He says, pulling you in for another kiss. He pulls away, his lips moving to your neck, and you throw your head back, giving him better access. He sucks on the spot just below your ear, and you gasp, fingers curling in his hair.
He continues sucking and biting, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck and shoulders. You moan, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, and you feel him smirk against your shoulder.
"You like this, baby?" He asks, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.
"Yes," You breathe out. "I love it."
Seonghwa pulls away and starts taking his clothes off, and you follow suit, shedding your own clothing and tossing them on the floor. When you are both naked, Seonghwa pulls you close, and you can feel his erection pressed against your stomach. You grind against him, and he lets out a low growl.
"Someone's impatient." He teases.
"Can you blame me? It's been too long." You say.
"I know, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll take care of you."
"Then hurry up." You whine. “I don’t care where we fuck.”
"So bossy." He says and he picks you up and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the island. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and roughly, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock rubs against your pussy, and you let out a moan, breaking the kiss.
Seonghwa's lips move to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks on it, and you let out a gasp. His tongue swirls around the bud and he nibbles it, then he moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment.
Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer and holding him in place. He sucks and bites, leaving hickeys and marks on your chest. When he's done, he moves lower, kissing and biting your skin, marking you as his. You feel his hands at the juncture between your thighs, fingers brushing against your dripping cunt.
"Seonghwa.." You moan his name.
"You're so wet." He says as he unlatched from your nipple and trails down kisses on your neck, biting and sucking on the skin.
"It's your fault. You made me this wet." You whine as he rubs your clit.
"Really? And how did I do that?" He asks, teasing. He's still rubbing your clit, and the friction is driving you crazy.
"Fuck, Seonghwa."
"Answer me, angel." He says, plunging two fingers inside of you. You throw your head back and moan, feeling Seonghwa's long, slender fingers curl up inside of you.
"Oh, fuck!" You moan.
"C'mon, answer me. How did I make you this wet?" He says, thrusting his fingers into you, and you swear that you could feel his fingertips brush against your g-spot.
"You and your filthy mouth." You managed to say, and he chuckles, fingers continuing to move in and out of you.
"Do you like my filthy mouth, angel? I like using it to make you feel good. Like this." He says, pulling his fingers out of you, and before you could complain, he has already replaced it with his mouth.
"Shit." You let out a breathy moan, and your hand finds its way to his hair, tugging on it as his tongue moves against you.
He licks and sucks on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you.
"You taste so good, baby." He murmurs, lips pressed against your sensitive skin. "So fucking delicious."
"Shit, shit." You curse, hips rolling to meet his tongue.
He continues to eat you out, tongue and lips working together to make you feel good. His tongue is hot and wet, and it feels so damn good. He moans against your pussy, and you swear you could feel the vibrations up to your spine. He laps at your clit, tongue circling the bundle of nerves. You're a moaning mess, curses spilling from your mouth as you grip his hair. You look down, and you see him staring at you.
His eyes are dark, filled with lust, and they are burning with passion and desire. He's looking at you, watching your face contort in pleasure, and it's all because of him. He loves it when you lose control and submit to him, letting him make you feel good.
"Shit, Seonghwa." You moan, and he pulls away, kissing his way up to your neck and jaw, his lips pressing against your skin.
"God, you're so hot." He murmurs into your skin.
You whimper, wanting his mouth on your clit again.
"Hwa, please." You whine.
"Please, what?" He says, teasing.
"Fuck, I'm so close." You say, and he smiles, his hands gripping your thighs as he leans down, lips latching onto your clit again.
You roll your hips, grinding against his face, chasing the release that is so close, but so far.
"Hwa, please." You beg, and he obliges, tongue flicking against your clit faster. You moan, and soon enough, you are screaming his name, his tongue pushing you over the edge.
"Fuck!" You cry out, hips bucking against his face as your orgasm washes over you, making your vision white and your body shake.
"That's it, angel." He whispers, and he doesn't stop, his tongue and lips working you through your orgasm, prolonging it, and making it feel even better. When you are done, he pulls away and licks his lips, tasting the last bit of your orgasm.
"Fucking delicious." He murmurs and pulls you into a heated kiss, tongues clashing and teeth clacking, but neither of you care, too lost in each other to even notice.
He pulls away, and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes locking with yours.
"Fuck, I need to be inside you." He groans, and you nod, not trusting your voice.
He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes inside of you, inch by inch, letting you adjust to his size. He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you.
"You feel so good, baby." He moans, and he starts moving, his hips rocking against yours, his cock sliding in and out of you.
"God, Seonghwa." You moan, his name a mantra falling from your lips. He's hitting all the right spots, his cock filling you up and stretching you out in all the right ways.
"You're so tight, baby. So fucking tight." He moans, his thrusts picking up speed. “God, I fucking missed you. Missed this. Missed us.”
"Hwa, fuck." You cry out, his cock hitting all the right places.
"Yes, baby, yes." He says, his breath coming out in short pants. "Say my name, angel. Let me hear you scream it."
"Seonghwa." You moan, and he thrusts into you even harder, his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you see stars.
"You're so fucking sexy." He moans, his voice sending shivers down your spine and straight to your core.
You moan his name, his fingers digging into your hips, his grip almost painful, but you love it. You love the pain and the pleasure that he's giving you, the way he's fucking you, and the way his cock is making you feel.
"Fuck, Hwa." You moan, his hips snapping against yours.
"Say it again." He growls, his lips ghosting over your ear, his breath hot and heavy.
"Seonghwa." You moan, his name sounding like a prayer. "God, I fucking love you."
"I love you, too." He groans, his voice rough and hoarse, and it makes your knees weak.
You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer, and he moans, his lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss. His lips move against yours, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth.
He groans into the kiss, and his fingers are gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. His cock is hitting all the right spots, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Hwa." You moan his name, and he smiles against your lips, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of you easily.
"I'm gonna cum, baby." He whispers, his voice rough and breathless.
"Me, too." You reply, your nails digging into his back.
He keeps going, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. Your legs are shaking, and your vision is starting to get blurry. You feel the familiar heat pooling in your lower belly, and you know that you're close.
"Seonghwa, fuck." You moan, and he groans, his thrusts getting faster and harder.
"Yes, angel, yes. Cum for me." He whispers, his voice a low rumble. "Cream all over my cock."
"Fuck, Hwa." You moan, and you can feel your orgasm approaching.
"That's it, baby." He grunts. "Cum for me."
"Shit, I'm gonna-"You reach your orgasm, and you cry out his name, your pussy clenching around his cock.
"That's it, baby." He moans, and he cums soon after, his cock twitching inside of you as his release coats your walls.
You both stay like that for a few minutes, his cock still buried deep inside of you, the only sound in the room is the sounds of your heavy breathing.
“Baby, I know we both came but I really want to continue fucking you. You feel so good, and I don't want to let you go." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.
“I need more of you, Hwa.”
He stands up and picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He carries you to the bedroom, his hands cupping your ass and holding you in place.
He carries you to the bed, and he lays you down, his body hovering over yours. He looks at you, his eyes dark with lust, and you can't help but moan.
"I should go on tour more often...if this is what happens when I get back." He smirks, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"And leave me alone again? Fuck no." You say, pulling him closer and kissing him hungrily. "Don't need you going around being half-naked again."
"I was clothed." He chuckles.
"And everyone was still eye-fucking you."
"Well, it was worth it." He smirks.
"Oh, was it now?"
He chuckles, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin.
"Fuck, baby, you're so needy." He growls, and his hands are on your body, roaming your skin, touching and caressing.
"You made me like this, Seonghwa." You reply, your voice breathless and shaky. "I missed you so much."
"I know, baby, I know. I missed you too." He whispers and kisses you, his lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.
You kiss him back, your fingers curling in his hair and tugging. He moans into the kiss, his lips moving against yours, and his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and tasting.
Your hands are on his chest, your nails digging into his skin, leaving marks and scratches. He groans, his hips rocking against yours, and his erection pressed against your thigh.
"God, baby, I missed you so much." He says, breaking the kiss, and he sits up, pulling you with him, and his lips move to your neck, sucking and biting the skin. "Missed your pretty little lips, your pretty tits, your pretty pussy."
You moan, his words sending shivers down your spine. You pull him closer, his lips finding yours again, and he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and exploring.
You grind against him, his erection pressing against your soaked pussy, and you can feel him throb and twitch. You moan, and he pulls away, his lips trailing down to your breasts, kissing and licking and biting the skin.
"Such a good girl, waiting for me to come home." He whispers, his lips pressing against the swell of your breast. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I love you so much."
"God, Hwa, I love you too." You moan, your fingers running through his hair. "Welcome back home."
"It's good to be home, baby." He says, sliding into you once more. "It's good to be home."
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chaedomi · 8 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ✦ mmgacm
fem!child!reader x lyrica nara takar + brinne sol (platonic!yan), inspiration (one / two), potential series, breanna is simply an oc who caters to reader's needs; after visiting her mother, lyrica finds herself learning about the mysterious crown princess who resides inside the sun palace. ꨄ — masterlist
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LYRICA WAS having the best day of her life. Her mother had just bestowed upon her something truly precious—a silver coin, unparalleled to all the riches that could be offered. Honestly, when she lost the first silver coin she had earned back in the slums, she felt a sense of disappointment. That coin had been her pride, marked and stained with all the times she held it, dreaming of a better future. She never aspired to acquire another, as it couldn't compare to the first one she had cherished for so long. But, who cared? Even if it wasn't the same coin, it was still a silver coin—her precious silver coin.
"Ah... Huh...?" Lyrica's footsteps halted as something interesting captured her attention. The Black Dragon Chamber next door was The Crown Prince's room, and right next to it was another door—the entrance to The Crown Princess's chambers. It occurred to Lyrica that she had never laid eyes on The Crown Princess before. The Crown Princess hadn't even been present at her mother's and His Majesty's wedding!
Lyrica lifted her gaze to examine the sign above the chamber door. Said signs depicted the theme of the chambers and, by extension, identified the type of dragon associated with The Crown Princess.
However, instead of the expected dragon imagery, there was what Lyrica recognized as a constellation.
"Oh my," Brinne spoke beside Lyrica, causing the little girl to startle, as the voice was unexpected. "It seems that Your Highness has stumbled across something very interesting. Would you like me to explain, Your Highness?"
"Huh...?" Lyrica blinked at her servant before finally catching on. "O... Oh, yes, please!"
Brinne laughed in response to Lyrica's enthusiasm. "Recall when I mentioned that His Majesty and House Takar trace their lineage to dragons? I also explained that House Wolfe descends from wolves, and House Sandar's ancestry is tied to a colossal snake as thick as a tree."
Brinne’s eyelids fluttered open, and Lyrica could see for herself the fondness swirling in her amethyst-hued eyes.  Lyrica's curiosity deepened even more as a result of this reaction. Minor details about The Crown Princess's existence are known, yet she already fascinates Lyrica. In the 'White Dragon Chamber,' Lyrica remembers the information Brinne shared with her. The Founder of the prosperous Takar Nation was a dragon, leading to the Imperial Family (comprising Takars) being named after these mythical creatures.
So, why is it that you, The Crown Princess, aren't named after a dragon? Your hand was given to The Crown Prince, which rightfully places you within the Imperial Family. However, you carry the identity of something different—a star, or more precisely, a constellation of stars known as Pollux.
Lyrica resisted the urge to ask, concerned about overwhelming Brinne with questions she might not have answers to. However, the more she thought, the more she wanted answers. Despite the unsettling tales she had heard about The Emperor, her stepfather had proven to be benevolent. It wasn't as if The Emperor despised you otherwise, he wouldn't have permitted you to reside in The Sun Palace and ''''marry'''' The Crown Prince. So, why...?
Lyrica bit her lip and groaned, ultimately yielding to her curiosity. "The Family Crest of High-Ranking Nobles symbolizes their ancestry. However, considering House (L.N) bears the crest of a star, does that suggest that The Crown Princess is descended from a star?" Brinne tilted her head and beamed, satisfied with Lyrica's analysis. "Exactly!"
Although Brinne appeared content, Lyrica felt the opposite, her eyebrows furrowing in dissatisfaction. "But... I thought all Takars were named after dragons. What about The Crown Princess?" It's only at that moment that Brinne understands the confusion of The Young Princess. Brinne's smile widened further, momentarily causing Lyrica to worry about the strain on her jaw muscles.
"It's as you mentioned, Your Highness. All Takars, even those married into The Imperial Family, bear dragon names. But, The Crown Princess is only engaged to His Highness.” Brinne replied, a sly smirk gracing her stunning features. Lyrica's expression faltered as she processed her servant's words. “Your Highness, let me make it known that His Majesty deeply admires House (L.N), especially The Crown Princess."
As the realization dawned on her, Lyrica almost jumped in surprise. Tolerance and respect were one thing, but admiration? Another question was… why did Brinne tell her all of this when she had first moved into her chambers? Did she forget…?
Brinne giggled at Lyrica’s reaction. "With admiration comes a deep bond. As we know, His Majesty cannot rule forever, nor will it be advised for his nephew to rule alone. And so, because His Majesty trusts no one as he trusts House (L.N), he decided that one of them shall ascend to the throne alongside his nephew. Despite the many good suitors House (L.N) had to offer, The Crown Princess was chosen as she not only captured him with her abilities but her personality as well."
“Of course, to be a Crown Princess, you need to marry The Crown Prince first. However, His Majesty’s instructions to address Her Highness as such regardless is a way of showcasing her permanent ascension.”
Lyrica's eyebrows rose at the revelation. Well, now it makes sense why you weren’t identified as a dragon. Forget what she said about the marriage thing too. "But wait! Even if The Crown Princess didn’t receive that privilege, would she still be considered important, perhaps more so than High-Ranking Nobles?"
Brinne hummed in thought. “She would still be considered as a High-Ranking Noble even if she and those in House (L.N) hold more privileges than the others in the same noble class. …It’s all because of His Majesty’s orders. Everything is. You are aware of how absolute His Majesty’s orders are, right? If His Majesty commands people to act like animals, they will do just that. If His Majesty says to idolize an object, they will do just that! Even more so if His Majesty orders his people to respect House (L.N) just as they respect House Takar, they will do just that. It doesn’t matter if people are pleased with the arrangements or not. ...His Majesty’s reason for doing so all aligns with the shared history of House Takar and House (L.N).”
Lyrica became intrigued by that bit of information. "Shared history?" She leaned in, eager to learn more. "Can you tell me more, Brinne?" Unfortunately, Brinne responded with an apologetic smile, disappointing Lyrica.
"Regrettably, that's the extent of my knowledge regarding the relationship between House (L.N) and House Takar. It's a limit for anyone," Brinne's lips tightened. "The narrative unfolds after the nation's expansion and the allegiance of House Sandar and House Wolfe, undoubtedly including the deeds of House (L.N) that earned His Majesty's favor."
"However, crucial details of this significant historical period somehow vanished. Consequently, over time, people began crafting theories about how House (L.N) and House Takar evolved into their current relationship. Some theories were logical, while others were entirely nonsensical. And, of course, some seized the opportunity for profit, as seen in the widely popular children's fairytale, 'The Dragon Who Fell In Love With A Star.' You must have heard of it, haven't you?"
Lyrica recalled hearing a similar story in the slums, never imagining its connection to something so crucial. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed.
"Despite these theories, none have been confirmed. House (L.N) and House Takar are the only ones capable of such confirmation. However, His Majesty has maintained silence on the matter, and House (L.N) feels compelled to align with his decision."
"Yet, certain aspects remain clear. Regardless of factual evidence, His Majesty holds House (L.N) in high regard. Thus, we are to treat them with respect, just as we will respect House Takar. Whether others agree or disagree is unimportant."
“Either way, the latter is not a concern,” Brinne continued. “Everyone in this nation is fond of House (L.N), or in this case, The Crown Princess.”
Lyrica cocked her head to the side. “Even you?”
"Yes, Your Highness! Why wouldn't I?" Brinne laughed. "Allow me to explain how House (L.N) operates. As we are aware, High-Ranking Nobles align themselves with the symbols on their crests. Given that House (L.N) traces its lineage to a star... it's worth noting that House (L.N) is the largest Noble Family in the nation. This serves as a symbolic representation of the countless stars that adorn the sky."
"B-Billions!?" Lyrica stammered, staring at Brinne with widened eyes.
"Oh, dear." Brinne covered her mouth. "Your Highness, House (L.N) doesn't quite literally have billions. However, like certain traits are inherent to specific Noble Families, having large kin is one characteristic of House (L.N). So, fear not, Your Highness; having a small family circle is normal. House (L.N) just happens to multiply at a very alarming rate... to the extent that they are scattered throughout all corners of the nation."
"Due to their extensive family, House (L.N) has implemented a system within their household to maintain order. Drawing inspiration from astrology, where eighty-eight constellations are recognized, House (L.N) has structured itself into eighty-eight classes, each with varying levels of power and status. However, within these eighty-eight classes, there exist twelve classes that house the highest positions. I find myself intrigued by the method they use to organize it all..."
"But, moving on!" Brinne placed her hands on her knees. "Your Highness, are you familiar with the twelve constellations of the universe?"
"Yes! Glendelyn taught me about them! It's uh... Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces... right!?" Lyrica grinned, pleased with herself for recalling both the names and pronunciation.
"And those would be the twelve classes of House (L.N) with the highest status and power! The Crown Princess oversees Class Gemini of House (L.N), in part. As we know, Gemini is a twin star encompassing both Pollux and Castor. Therefore, Gemini is responsible for two individuals, with The Crown Princess having authority over Pollux."
Brinne's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It makes me wonder... if House (L.N)'s class sorting is also influenced by personality traits..."
"What makes you think that...?" Lyrica inquired, tilting her head to the side.
"Pollux means 'very sweet' or 'fit for royalty.' And when compared to both Castor and Pollux, Pollux is the brighter star of the two." Brinne giggled. "'Fit for royalty'... truly describes The Crown Princess! The Crown Princess can also be characterized as... bright and pure. Undoubtedly, she possesses the most beautiful soul in the entire nation."
In Lyrica's thoughts, she argues that her mother is the most beautiful soul of all!
"Generous, selfless, and loving. The Crown Princess consistently treats everyone impartially and respectfully, ignoring class or personality. When she had more freedom before getting engaged, The Crown Princess frequently visited the lower class, playing with the little children there. She gave them gifts, food, and clothes, disregarding the opinions of those in the Noble Status," Brinne explained.
"Now, with increased power, The Crown Princess has expressed her intent to enhance the quality of life for the lower class. His Majesty has already given his approval, leaving the timing of the project's initiation to The Crown Princess." Brinne hummed. "In summary, The Crown Princess is admired not just for her history and status. It's her demeanor and how she treats others, whether good or evil, that truly highlights her charm."
By now, Lyrica's eyes were gleaming. "She does sound amazing..." As someone who had previously lived in the slums, hearing about how The Crown Princess cared so tenderly for her fellow people deeply touched Lyrica. Typically, individuals of higher status tended to be snobbish and avoided those from lower classes, using harsh and insulting labels. Lyrica was all too familiar with that. However, there were exceptions—The Crown Princess, who cared for them despite their backgrounds, striving to improve their lives! Lyrica's thoughts began to wander, imagining what her life might have been like if she had encountered The Crown Princess in the past.
The only issue in her thoughts was, "Brinne, how exactly does The Crown Princess look?"
"Hmm... Let me think about how I can describe this. Your Highness, when you gaze at the stars at night, what's the first thing that comes to your mind?" Brinne inquired.
"Well, I always think about how beautiful the stars look tonight," Lyrica responded promptly.
“It’s the same for House (L.N). They possess a certain essence that makes them shine, glitter, and sparkle. The Crown Princess is no exception. She has gorgeous (h.c) hair that sparkles under the sunlight, and (s.c) skin that glows with the moonlight. However, what truly sets The Crown Princess apart within her House is her eyes. Those eyes of hers... are the physical embodiment of her lineage. With (e.c) eyes that sparkle like fine jewels, she carries the entire universe in them."
Lyrica's jaw dropped in amazement. "Is that another form of symbolism...?"
Brinne shook her head. "This time, it's quite literal." Seeing Lyrica's face scrunch up in suspicion, Brinne resisted the urge to giggle. "Oh my, Your Highness. I assure you, I'm not making fun of you for thinking House (L.N) consisted of billions of members. I don't blame you for being skeptical. Eyes resembling the universe? It does sound far-fetched, especially when no one else is known for having such a trait. But, it is the truth."
Lyrica pouted, fiddling with her clothes. "All of this talk just makes me want to meet The Crown Princess!"
"Huhu~ I'm certain The Crown Princess would have loved to meet you too, Your Highness. Unfortunately, current circumstances just won't allow her to do so. With The Crown Prince currently absent, The Crown Princess has temporarily taken over his responsibilities, attending to any work that needs to be accomplished in his stead."
"I can recall a day when The Crown Princess looked like a disaster, seconds away from collapsing onto the ground," Brinne shivered. "As much work as it may be, it's what needs to be done. Again, The Crown Prince and The Crown Princess are destined to ascend to the throne one day, signifying the future management of the nation. Thus, they must demonstrate their capabilities to the people, and most importantly, His Majesty."
“Oh!” Lyrica blinked.
“Hmm… Now, I’m not sure, but, come to think of it, you should be able to see The Crown Princess soon, Your Highness.” Brinne added.
“Oh!?” Lyrica exclaimed in a louder tone.
“His Highness should be returning from his feudal territory very soon. And once he does, Her Highness should be able to take a breather from her piles of work.”
Lyrica fell silent, staring at Brinne with a soft expression. Lyrica then smiled fondly, clasping her hands together. “I know The Crown Princess isn’t fully inside the family as yet… Even so, she would be my cousin. But, still… The Crown Princess… would be some form of big sister, right…?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“YOUR HIGHNESS! I come to you with great news! His Highness should be returning soon!” Gracefully entering the 'Constellation Pollux Chamber,' a maid carrying a golden tray of food and treats hastened toward you, seated upright in your bed, gazing at the scenery beyond your window.
Turning your attention forward, you stared at your maid with widened eyes. "Is that so?" Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness, a smile spreading across your lips as you interlaced your fingers. A flowery aura surrounded you, and your excitement was visible. "That is good news! How long has it been since Atil was gone...? Six months?"
"Precisely," your maid, Breanna, hummed, gently placing the tray on your bed tray table, which you wasted no time digging into. "I can tell that you have many ideas running through your head, Your Highness. I, too, would want to greet someone I cherish with a warm welcome after not seeing them for so long."
"For Atil...? Erm... No, that's not why I'm so excited... I'm excited because I won't have to work as hard as I did anymore!" You beamed without shame. "Ugh, it was torturous... Left, right, and center, it was just piles of paper. Any more, and I would have begun to see the pearly white gates of heaven..."
"Oh, my, is that all? His Highness would be upset if he heard that's the only reason you missed his presence," Breanna giggled.
"...Seriously...?"
"And then there are your new family members, Your Highness."
You paused, fingers clasped around the handle of your spoon. Slowly, you lifted your head to meet your maid's gaze, (e.c) eyes locking with amethyst eyes. "Yes, I have heard about the news. How His Majesty has taken a commoner as his bride, and her child as his daughter."
Your smile widened, lips encased around the tip of the spoon. As if nature were in sync with you, the sunlight cast an ethereal glow on your frame, making you appear more enchanting. Even your maid, who wore a sly smirk seconds prior, jaw slackened, staring at you in awe.
"It's a shame I am unable to do anything at the moment. I can't express just how eager I am to meet them. But one thing's for sure... I already see them as family."
In your eyes was the universe. Stars served as pupils, they glowed with endless glee and anticipation.
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©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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random-twst-things · 7 months
Text
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The Sweet Painter of Twisted things (Pt. 1)
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Hi annon! Love the concept. It's no bother at all, I do love to write after all!! Ty for the request and I apologize for taking so long 😭✨🍬 (I hope you like it!)
Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt.1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus pt.2)
Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt 1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Female reader pt.2) (Separate)
Warnings: Mentions of eerie/gory paintings
Word count: 1,630
Notes: you know what? I'm just gonna post it now and finish the rest in a different post, I don't want y'all to be kept waiting any longer 😭✨🍬
More notes: I'll be posting Pt.2 whenever I have time! I will say though, I have no idea how to write for some of the characters in Pt.2 😀✨🍬
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When you said you painted and wished to show him your art, Riddle had to admit he was a tad bit (a lot) excited to see
So, when you showed him your art he was absolutely bewildered.
You, the sweetest person he has ever had the chance in meeting, paints things that could cause nightmares.
Obviously, he isn't going to say that aloud, he has manners, but dear seven, how unexpected it was for him.
He's seen art before. He's been to museums by his mother to teach him strictly of the arts and the "rules" she put in place for them to determine how well a painting is.
It's been years since his mother taught him such things, and she only did it so often, and after time, those rules of art set by his mother have dwindled.
He's been able to go to museums before with Trey as a way to calm down when things are too much. Luckily, Trey was able to explain to Riddle how there are many forms of art and how it art doesn't necessarily have rules itself.
So it's safe to say he's a bit more well-versed in paintings now, even though he still finds it a bit difficult when there's no rules to follow (a habit hard to get rid of)
Now, his reaction all depends on what painting and image your showing him
He will ask you questions about why you would paint such uncanny things such as:
Why did you paint this? What caused you to begin painting such eerie things? What Inspiration were you given to paint this particular piece?
And many more questions about technique and practical things.
He can't say that he's a fan of these types of paintings, but he can say that he thinks you're very talented to be able to make such paintings
He'll praise how well done or real your painting(s) looks.
He's going to be a bit concerned about you, though, and he shows that by (trying to) subtly asking if you're okay
"What gave you the inspiration to draw this?" Riddle asks, the worry in his tone being quite evident even through his attempts in hiding it. "Have you witnessed such things for inspiration?" He asks again, his voice laced with even more worry than before.
"What? No!" You stand up from your seat to get closer to Riddle. "It's not like that," you laugh lightly, shaking your hands in the air. "I just happened to see a rotting piece of meat in the cafeteria kitchen one time while passing by."
Riddle breathes a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. Bro was stressing and worrying.
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I say this in the nicest way possible to us all, but this man does not care but-!
Leona doesn't care in a sense like "I wanna show you something!" "Alright hurry it up and show me".
Maybe he's a bit smug that you're showing him something you like to do.
Anyways, when you said you wanted to show him your painting(s) he was being smug.
He didn't have any set expectations to what type of things you painted or what your style was.
Him seeing the eerie or gory painting didn't surprise him as much as Riddle either.
He doesn't have much to say, but this guy is still smug and is definitely showing it now.
Why? The guys got weird motives and definitions of respect and pride so we'll never know.
His does wonder how you acquired such Inspiration to paint like this.
He's not too curious about it to the point where he'll try to find out or becomes worried.
Again, he is smug and prideful but it's for you
He feels prideful FOR you. He's smug about you being able to paint such gory or eerie things FOR you.
(Bros so smitten with you)
You set your canvas/notebook down carefully against one of the plants nearby, careful not to get it dirty or damaged.
Leona lays there, back towards you, unbothered under the shade of a plant, but not for long as you bring your finger near his cheek and begin to poke.
Poke.
Poke.
PokePokePokePokePokePokePoke.
Leona swats your hand away, but not harshly. His tail swings left to right faster then he was asleep, another sign he's awake.
He looks at you, irked that you disturbed his so-called much needed nap. He glares at you, but his eyes lack the malice in them to even consider it threatening. You look at him innocently, hands behind your back as to show it wasn't you. (He knows better, only you would ever try to wake him up like that)
He sighs deeply. "What is it herbivore?" He asks as he shifts slightly to get into a more comfortable position to get a better view of you. You turn your body slightly to grab the canvas you set down behind you, careful not to accidentally show Leona just yet. "I wanna show you something," you beam, you're more excited then you thought you'd be showing him, for the first time, your most recent painting.
Leona's tail begins to swish even faster, thumping against the leaves of the plants nearby. His tail gives away that his curiosity has been piqued. Yet his face remains unchanged, besides the slight quirk of his eyebrow in questioning.
You turn the canvas around for Leona to see.
And there it is
The smirk
The smug
The eyes of pride *sound effects*
His smirk seems to widen even more as he looks at the painting and then back at you. "Looks nice herbivore, ya got anymore?"
You excitedly nod your head, "yeah, I do. Wanna see them?", you ask, gripping your painting, even more excited then before to show him.
Leona nods his head languidly while slowly closing his eyes, "sure, but after I finish this nap", he brings his arms down and begins to get comfortable. He softly pats his stomach, "Come, sleep".
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Azul knows you paint, he knows it's been a hobby of yours for a while now.
How does he know? Doesn't matter. Does he know what exactly the contents of your paintings are? No
His curiosity has been eating away at him. He was so very curious on what his darling was capable of
So, when you first told him that you wished to show him your paintings, he was elated. His curiosity will finally be quelled.
He may or may not have a set expectations of what you paint. Something sweet, something calm or maybe something like he'd find at a museum of old paintings.
What he saw was the complete opposite to say the least.
He's not disappointed, no, he's just shocked.
He's amazed. He's taken aback. He's a lot of emotions.
.....would you be willing to, perhaps, sell these paintings? Many people out there would be willing to buy, and the profits would be even and-
Old habits die hard, I suppose 🤷🏽‍♀️
You led Azul by the hand to your room/drawing room, much slower than he would like as he wished to see your paintings as soon as possible.
"Azul, i can feel you twitching in anticipation just by holding your hand," you laughed lightly. He sighed, bringing his free hand to his temple to calm his nerves. "I'm sorry, dear, but it feels as if you're walking slower just to build up anticipation," "Maaaybeee~". Azul chuckles at your antics.
Finally, after Azuls definition of agonizing seconds. He visibly relaxed as he saw the covered canvas. "My, you really know how to keep me on my toes", ",I most certainly do". You left go of his hand and stand next to the covered canvas. "Ready?", you put your hands on the sheet. Azul held his breath and nodded.
You clench the cover and quickly pull it off. You turn to face Azul to gouge his reaction. That reaction was him frozen in place, still holding his breath (you'd begun to think how he still hasn't passed out) "Azul?" You try to call out to him.
He slowly walks up to your painting, still holding his breath. He reaches out and touches the edges of the canvas delicately, scared he we're to break it if he put too much pressure. You watch his careful movements. You watch as his eyes rake over your painting as if he could take the painting and store it into his memory box. "Azul?" You try calling out again, only this time he responds.
He let's out a shaky breath, "it looks -" he turns his head to fade you. "It looks magnificent, dear," his words were barely above a whisper. You stand there absolutely frozen and shocked. Nobody has ever quite thought this kind of painting would be 'magnificent' before.
"Really?" He turns his head back at the painting."Yes, the detail is vert intricate, and it feels so eerie. It's as if you were truly there." You stare at him bewildered, mouth slightly agape.
He puts his hand on his chin in a thinking position. The gears turn in his head. He turns to face you so quickly that you'd think he'd have snapped his neck on accident. "Have you ever considered selling these?" He asks, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Sell them?... No, I never really thought of that." You bring your fingers to your chin, now thinking as well. "Well, I'll say many would be lining up the door to buy these wonderful paintings!""Really?"
"Yes! With such talent and my business skills, we could -" and there goes the business man into his spiral of possibilities.
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423 notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 9 months
Text
could you pretend to be in love? (01/10)
The Proposal
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: with his last relationship ending in disaster and giving the college a lot to talk about, the most popular guy comes to you for help to save his reputation. but you never expected him to need to fake a relationship... with you.
word count: 4.8k
series masterlist • next part
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AHHH GUYS I am so excited!
okey this is an unexpected idea, obviously I have been inspired by all the boys i loved before because recently i watch the three movies and i love the result of this and I have so much prepared for it that I'm so excited for you guys to read it already:)
I still have a bit more to work on but so far I'm loving it so I look forward to reading your opinions on it, for now enjoy a small part of everything to come! thank you for reading and for your support❣
also leaked everything I have planned a few moments ago but in spanish. I didn't even put the draft to post it, so I don't know what happened but it was my cue to finally share this hehe
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"Y/N... I need your help."
That was the first thing someone said to you one Thursday morning in the library before your Science class started, this beginning a rather... peculiar day.
But you didn't expect those words to be said by Aemond Targaryen, the most popular guy in basically the whole school, to you, the most introverted girl in the class and probably not in the whole school since there are people even more introverted than you, but something like that.
So you slowly put your book down, raising your gaze to watch Aemond in front of you slightly confused and expectantly.
And the first thing you see is his eager and needy gaze in your direction, completely attentive to you. His hand grips the strap of his backpack and his gorgeous silver hair falls elegantly like a curtain down his back.
"Y-yes?"
"I'm..." he starts to tell you a little hesitantly, "I'm interrupting you with something?"
"Hum..." you look at your books scattered around the table for a moment, "I'm just... studying for the test on Monday."
"Oh," he nods absently, "Okay, listen, I don't want to stop you but this is really important and I need you to listen to me," he pleads quietly, looking really desperate, "The faster we talk, the faster I'll leave you alone and you can get back to studying."
And this is what gets your attention completely.
However, you continue to feel a mixture of mild surprise and confusion as it is unusual for him to address you or for you to talk to him despite being in the same classes.
You almost always find yourself in the corners, away from conversations and curious glances, although that doesn't mean that you are not participative and one of the best in your class, since you are always taking notes and concentrating on your studies.
You don't really talk to many people, only to people who are just as untalkative and quiet as you are.
And on the other hand, there is Aemond Targaryen, also a student just as dedicated as you and the best in the class, with the difference that he always occupies a place at the front of the classroom, always surrounded by friends and admirers.
He is the type of person that everyone notices and not only because of his unusual appearance, which in fact drives all the girls crazy, but also because of his charisma, personality and for being the captain of the lacrosse team.
And this is why despite being in the same classes, neither of you had ever had a reason to cross words before. You didn't even know that he knew your name, while everyone around you knows his.
"Okay..." you say not entirely convinced, "What is it?"
Aemond takes a deep breath of air, taking his gaze away from yours for a moment, looking a bit nervous and hesitant, which is very rare from him, as he has always proven to be a decisive and firm person for everything.
And in an act of nerves, he quickly takes a seat in front of you, still looking just as desperate as before.
"Look, I know we don't talk much even though we share classes..." he pauses a little, "Well, we don't really talk at all," he corrects himself, "And I also know you don't have any reason to... help me, but..." he sighs frustrated, "I really need your help."
You look expectant, waiting for him to tell you more, but apparently he himself doesn't know what it is he's going to ask you for help with, or rather he can't believe it, as he looks very nervous and can't find the right words to tell you.
So before asking the big question, he speaks again first.
"Do you know my ex-girlfriend? Alys Rivers?"
You raise your eyebrows at him a little, still expectantly, not understanding what that has to do with him asking for your help and you make your confusion clear for a moment, but still nod in his direction.
Because of course, how could you not know who Alys Rivers is?
She's like a more modern version of walking Regina George, with the other difference being that Alys is black hair.
"Ah... yeah."
"And I'm sure you must know what happened between me and her recently," he tells you cautiously and also a little expectantly.
"I think the whole school knows," you make it clear to him, in a soft tone.
"Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure," he tells you without further elaboration, "Anyway, I need your help with that."
You frown and look at him not entirely convinced.
"You want to talk about how your ex-girlfriend cheated on you?"
"No, no, not that, of course not," he hurries to say, "I need your help with her, with Alys," he clarifies but you're still just as confused.
"Aemond, you're not being entirely clea—
"I need you to fake a relationship with me."
He tells you bluntly, in an impulsive act to tell you once and for all before it becomes more difficult, causing you to become speechless and disbelief and surprise to flash in your eyes and gaze.
Suddenly your heart starts beating too fast, completely bewildered, waiting for him to tell you it's a joke.
However, the expression on his face makes it clear to you that he is not joking and that he is being terribly serious and honest about this, despite how absurd his words have sounded, making you feel only even more confused.
"I'm serious, Y/N. I'm really asking you this," he states to you, in a low voice, completely honest and desperate.
Again, surprise washes over you and a wave of insecurity washes over your entire insides, as you can't quite believe it and understand it.
"W-what?"
You almost whisper, even with all the disbelief in your gaze. And he lets out a sigh, bringing his hands to his head.
"Look, I know it sounds crazy and ridiculous, but... I really need to do this with someone," he says softly, pleadingly and quietly, "And not have anyone suspect, of course. This just to make Alys jealous and to stop me looking like a fool in front of the whole school after what she did."
You continue to stare at him incredulously, your lips parted and your brow furrowed, saying nothing for a few moments as Aemond in front of you begins to lose patience.
But he understands and knows what you must be thinking, it's the same thing he thought when he came up with this 'great' idea. He knew you would look at him the way you are looking at him now, like a madman.
"I'm sure it won't take us long, just enough time to convince the whole school and no more," he tries to convince you, insistent.
"But..." you say incredulously, "Do you realize what you're talking about?"
"Yes, I realize it. But it's not like it's the biggest crime or the biggest scam in the world either," he tells you absurdly.
Another silence.
You definitely didn't expect him to tell you all this and why he wants to. You understand his desperation since literally the whole school found out that Alys cheated on the hottest guy in the whole school with a college guy or something. And she along with him were the perfect couple of the moment.
So you understand that he's upset and humiliated, but he's willing to go to this length?
You are not on the same page as him.
"Please, Y/N," he begs you low and watching you completely intently.
"Hum..." you say beginning to feel uncomfortable, as you look away from him, "I-I'm sorry, but I'm sure someone else could help you, Ae—
"Please," he says desperately, "At least consider it."
"Aemond, this is literally the first conversation we've both had after sharing classes for almost three years," you tell him incredulously, trying to prove your point, "We don't talk to each other, we don't really know each other and for you to suddenly ask me for help with this..." you pause, then shrug, "I don't understand."
"It's not that hard to understand," he says still insistent, "And I get what you mean, but..." he lets out a sigh, "Look, I haven't asked anyone else for help, you're the first because I want you to be the one to do this with me—
"You don't need to try to make me feel special, you know? I-I don't—
"No, that's not why," he assures you, "In fact you're the only one who could help me, there's no one better," he explains, "I've been watching you lately, you're discreet, you hardly talk to anyone, basically no one notices you and this way, no one will expect it, not even Alys."
And even though he tried to explain himself in the best way without malice in his words and without referring to you in a bad way when explaining why you, you feel a slight sharp pain in your chest with confusion, sadness and resentment invading you.
"You don't need to explain who I am or what I'm like," you say in your low voice, avoiding looking him in the eye, trying to control your tone that conveys sadness but also seriousness, "Nor do you need me to be the resolution to your problems."
Aemond's gaze transforms to one of concern and distress, watching you completely intently.
"No, no, wait," he says instantly, his tone full of regret, "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, rea—
"Don't worry about it anymore," you reply with a nonchalant wave of your hand, keeping your gaze serious as you begin to put your things away.
"No, please, Y/N, wait," he pleads, trying to stop you, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you down or anything. I just wanted to explain—
"Look, I understand what you want to accomplish, but that doesn't justify using someone else, especially someone you barely know, to solve your own problems."
"Y/N, please. I'm sorry, just let me—
He tries to stop you, looking for an opportunity to clear the air, but you're already leaving.
"I can't help you," you interrupt him again in a final tone.
And without further ado you turn away from him, not caring that you've left the books on the table without returning them to the shelves. And even though he tries to stop you between apologies, you don't let him and walk away from him.
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Of course, that wouldn't be the only time Aemond would try to talk to you.
After what happened in the library, no matter where you were, even being in the last empty halls on the top floor during lunchtime, Aemond would always find you to try to talk and apologize.
But you whenever you saw him approaching, you would always slip into another hallway or blend in among all the other students, looking for and finding any alternative to avoid talking to him.
But he kept trying.
And you didn't understand how you suddenly went from having your nose stuck in books all the time, to going from avoiding the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school.
Because you knew that not only would he try to apologize, he would also try to convince you again about his idea and right now you had too many things on your mind to worry about other people's needs.
So one day, taking advantage of the fact that you have a free class after lunchtime and you won't have to worry about Aemond for a while, you head to the schoolyard, choose a table, set up your laptop, open a folder and put on your headphones.
But it seems that things are not in your favor today.
You haven't even played your Spotify playlist when you see Aemond approaching in the distance from the lacrosse field.
You almost want to cry from frustration.
So without wasting any time, you stand up and quickly start putting your things away.
"Oh, come on Y/N," you hear his disappointed complaint in the distance and he starts trotting towards you.
You can't help but feel annoyed too, but before you can take a step, he gets there first.
"Would you stop stalking me, please?" you demand as you start to walk away.
"Please, just let me talk to you for a second," he pleads, stopping you gently but firmly.
"There's nothing even to talk about," you tell him earnestly and disinterestedly at the same time, trying to fend him off and move forward.
He again blocks your path.
"Please," he repeats, "I just want to apologize for the other day."
"We both know that's not what you really came here to say."
He lets out a long sigh as he looks away from you for a moment, then returns to watching you intently and with some concern.
And you wonder what he's doing here. He's wearing his lacrosse uniform so shouldn't he be training with his team or something?
"Look, I understand that you're upset....
He starts to say and you understand at that moment that he has no intention of going anywhere until he has finished talking to you.
"... but I need you to know that I'm really sorry I said those words to you. It wasn't what I really meant, it was cruel and I didn't realize it at the time."
You let out a long breath as you look away and press your lips together.
"It's okay, I understand," you look at him, "And I forgive you, if that's what you need to hear, fine, I forgave you. Now it's all forgotten and we can call it even."
Again, you try to dodge him to get away, but he steps in your way again, blocking your path.
"Wait," he asks, "Just wait," he repeats to you in his insistent voice, full of longing and concern evident on his face. "Can we talk, please?"
You shake your head as you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your frustration mounting.
"I already told you I won't do it, Aemond."
"Have you at least considered it?" his tone becomes expectant and frustrated.
"Yes and it's an idea that makes no sense," you reply absurdly, interrupting him. "Or well, maybe to you it does, but—
"So that's it?" he interrupts you immediately, his gaze fixed on yours, "Do you want to benefit from this too if we do?"
You immediately shake your head in his direction, trying to deny any hint of that.
"No, that wasn't what—
"What do you want in return?" he interrupts again, his expression completely willing and attentive. "Tell me what it is you want to agree to pretend to be in a relationship with me."
Seven Hells.
You think as a frustrated sigh escapes your lips.
You feel trapped in an emotional interrogation, struggling to find the right words as you desperately search for a way out. His direct and persistent questions leave you blank for a moment.
"Listen, I can't and don't have time to help you with something like that."
He sighs, looking away from you for a moment.
"Okay," he says, moving to take a seat on the other side of the table you were sitting at earlier, "I'm listening," he watches you carefully.
You frown at his change in attitude.
"You hear me?" you repeat, confused.
"Yes, I hear you," he replies, looking at you expectantly, "Tell me why you can't and why you don't have the time."
"Don't you have training or something?"
"Yes, but it doesn't matter."
"You'll get into tro—
"It doesn't matter," he interrupts you, keeping his seriousness and attention, "So tell me, I'm listening."
He lets out an incredulous, absurd laugh.
"I don't have to explain myself with yo—
"The point here is that I don't believe you," he lets you know with determination, interrupting you again, "And if you don't tell me why, I'll keep insisting and bothering you until you tell me yes," he says with a slightly amused but determined look on his face.
You look at him slightly confused and surprised, not understanding what is wrong with him, also feeling a mixture of annoyance inside you and curiosity for his persistence.
"It doesn't matter, I'll still keep telling you no," you affirm as a final word to start walking away from him.
However, as soon as you advance a few steps, you feel how someone snatches the folder you are carrying with you quickly and abruptly, which stops you in your tracks. And you turn to him in surprise and confusion.
"Hey!" you protest, puzzled by his action.
"Uh, what do we have here?" he comments with a mischievous grin and a look full of amusement, getting up to turn away from you as he flips through the papers.
"That's none of your business!" you reproach him, running up to him and trying to retrieve your folder.
"Citadel University," he mentions with a tone of interest, running away from your attempts to catch up with him.
"Aemond!" you call, demanding that he give you back what is yours. But he continues to back away and read the sheets at the same time.
"Uh," he comments in concentration as he reads something specific, "This really is bad news."
"That's enough!" you yell at him, completely annoyed and frustrated, finally managing to snatch the folder from his hands and slam it shut.
The tension between the two of you increases as you hold the folder tightly and definitely start to pull away from him.
"No, no, okay, I'm sorry," he stops you instantly, grabbing your arm and stepping in front of you, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—
"Sure, you never meant to," you tell him half-heartedly, trying to dodge him but he won't let you.
"Okay, fine, I was an idiot, I know. But—hey, listen please."
"Are you going to leave me alone or not?" you inquire annoyed, releasing yourself from his grip, watching him expectantly.
He lets out a sigh.
"Y/N—
"I don't have time for this. I have to go."
"But—wait!" he urges you, also on the verge of tears from frustration as you dodge him but he again steps back in front of you, stopping you, "Could you just—listen to me, please."
"No."
"Please!" he insists, "Y/N, I-I... fuck," he lets out a sigh, looking away from yours for a moment, "I'm really sorry," he tells you sincerely, "But let me talk to you. You won't have to do anything but listen to me," he implores, "And after this, if you still want me to stop bothering you and leave you alone, I will."
You watch him completely intently, assessing his words and noting the desperation reflected in his gaze. And even though your mind tells you to forget him and get away from him and this whole situation, something inside you makes you hesitate.
You let out a long, deep breath, telling yourself that you just have to give him a chance to talk and you can finally walk away without feeling remorse.
"Okay, but make it quick," you agree reservedly, keeping your distance.
And even though you're still firm about continuing to tell him no and feel annoyed about earlier, you're curious what he has to say.
"Hum... do you want to sit?"
He points to the table you were sitting at earlier with an awkward and strange gesture. You're about to tell him no but not wanting to argue again, so this will end quickly, you resignedly take a seat and he instantly follows you.
He takes a seat in front of you and you continue with all your belongings in your lap, not trusting to leave them on the table within his reach because of earlier, feeling a knot in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest as you briefly glance at the folder he was snooping through earlier.
"I won't take up too much of your time, I just want to get back to what we were talking about earlier," he tells you softly and with some caution, taking a moment before speaking again, "You want something in return for agreeing to fake the relationship with me?"
You let out a long sigh.
"No, I don't want anything, Aemond. There is nothing I want that you can give me in return," you clarify in a firm tone, "I don't even have the time to do that. I have other important things to take care of instead of.... that."
He exhales, starting to look just as frustrated as you do.
"Like what?" he dares to ask.
"None of your business," you reply immediately.
He looks away from your gaze for a moment, feeling more frustration, swallowing hard and looking hesitant for a moment, but still determined, not wanting this conversation to end before he can try.
"It has to do with the Citadel thing?"
The mention of the college you fought so hard to gain access to makes you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, making your heart flip.
Sadness, disappointment, all those emotions come flooding back just like the first time you read that rejection letter from the college. All your effort, all your performance, was simply not enough for the university to recognize.
The college of your dreams.
"I told you that's none of your business," you act instantly serious and defensive.
"I don't mean to intrude, Y/N—
"That's exactly what you're doing," you point out incredulously.
"You applied for a scholarship and didn't get it, didn't you?" yet you still dare to say, taking a risk, "That's what I read."
"And you shouldn't have," you say firmly, trying to hide the sadness and disappointment his words have triggered in you, "You have no right to go through my personal business."
"I know and I'm sorry, but—
He begins to try to say, but you interrupt him, determined to end the conversation.
"That's what you were going to say?" you tell him, starting to get up with all your things to leave, "If that's all, I'll just go—
"You haven't really let me talk," he interrupts you, insistent, "I can offer you something in return and worth considering to get you to accept the fake relationship with me. But only if you stay and listen to me—
"Oh please, Aemond," you interrupt him in disbelief, sensing the absurdity of the situation, "You know what? Okay, let me hear it," you say with sarcasm in your tone and an expectant look, "Tell me what you could offer me in return that would be worth considering," you add wryly.
"I can help you with your college application," Aemond hastens to say.
Surprise invades everything inside you, listening attentively to his unexpected proposal, definitely not expecting to hear that.
You remain completely silent, just watching him intently, while he gives you a firm and sincere look back. You have no idea what to say, feeling how suddenly your heart starts beating too hard.
"I have connections there, my grandfather and my sister," he lets you know, "I can send them all your information, personal recommendations, all your academic history and have them give you a place with the scholarship you wanted," he tells you and the surprise grows more inside you, "Graduation is near, I can facilitate the whole process for you and I am willing to do it if you help me."
Again, you say nothing.
But the surprise is more than evident on your face.
Their offer, this, really is too much, to the point that your mind starts to be a whirlwind of emotions and you begin to feel distrust, uncertainty and inner conflict.
But on the one hand, his offer is tempting. The idea of getting help from him to get a place in the college you so long for definitely catches your attention, but it also makes you feel a little uncomfortable.
Honestly his words stir something in you, but caution prevails.
The desire to get a place in that university is basically a dream come true, but it clashes with your principles and at the same time you think ahead with lingering doubt whether not accepting was a grave mistake.
Although... are you really able to say no to this? Your dream? To the university that will give you the opportunity to offer a better quality of life for you and your father?
Certainly, Aemond's words are not something you would have believed from anyone else. You would have laughed too hard at the big lie since it is basically impossible to get a place at a high-demand university like Citadel.
But you admit that Aemond Targaryen is not just any person.
Everyone knows that his father owns the most important company in the whole country. And his mother's surname is linked to and owns the influential Hightower banks. The combination of both surnames carries with it a network of influential contacts and connections, so you believe him.
The reality is undeniable; Aemond is exaggeratedly rich, his whole family is, so knowing all this basically gives you to understand that he can undoubtedly secure a place at Citadel University for himself and, apparently, for you as well.
But the hesitation you still feel stops you, still thinking carefully about his proposal.
"So what you want in return is just that?" you ask him wanting to be all clear, "To agree to pretend a relationship with you?"
Your voice reveals a hint of disbelief as you stare at Aemond, waiting for a more detailed explanation. The idea that this all revolves around a farce of a relationship never ceases to generate confusion in you.
The simplicity of his request sounds almost surreal, and makes you question his true intentions.
"I know it sounds ridiculous, but yes, that's all I'm asking, Y/N," he replies without hesitation, his tone serious and direct.
His intense blue eye remains fixed on yours, as you give yourself a small second simply out of curiosity to appreciate his prosthetic left eye up close, an accident as a child or something you heard.
But your mind returns to his request immediately, still feeling the mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. An awkward pause settles between the two of you as you finally break the silence with a doubt-laden sigh.
"But, why me?" you can't help but ask, "I mean, why offer this to me, something really important and big to agree to help you," you explain your point, "I know you said that with me it will be easier but.... there are other girls who could help you with this, or not?"
Aemond adjusts slightly in his seat, sighing as he searches for the right words.
"I misspoke about you at first. It wasn't what I really meant about no one noticing you, you're invisible and all that shit, because it's not true," he tells you softly, "You are different and definitely calmer than other girls who I know will tell me yes without hesitation, but I'm not looking for that, I need someone genuine, someone I can trust to make this work and someone who won't get too excited."
His answer seems sincere, you know he really is sincere, but you still feel the knot in your stomach.
Accepting to help him would mean immersing yourself in a world that you never had any interest in fitting into and that most of the time you've been trying to keep your distance from.
You don't care about having a lot of friends, having followers on social media, being popular, being the prettiest and getting attention from guys. You also wouldn't want to be looked at and given too much attention just for dating Aemond Targaryen, if you accept.
But would you really be proud enough not to accept so you wouldn't have to do all that, letting go of the chance to get into Citadel University?
A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of accepting his proposal and after a brief pause, you let out a sigh and finally nod your head as you swallow hard to speak nervously and with determination.
"All right. Let's do it."
The surprise and disbelief is completely reflected in Aemond's gaze to then quickly rise from his seat and take a couple of steps towards you, completely delusional.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes but don't make me regret it."
And then his whole face transforms, with relief reflecting in his gaze and... strangely, letting go of that worry that has invaded him for days now, also stress along with frustration and a weight on his shoulders.
"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciated it. And this will be over sooner than you think, I promise."
A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you wonder if you have made the right decision. He seems satisfied with your answer, but deep down a trace of doubt clings in your mind along with the echo of consequences that resonates eerily.
You wonder how others are going to view you seeing you very soon at Aemond's side and whether it will drastically change your school life, which is irrelevant, but in their world, absolutely everything matters.
"So, what's next?" you ask, really unable to believe you've agreed.
Aemond straightens up completely, watching you attentively and with that readiness in his gaze, there is also a certainty that you do not possess, as you actually feel very small before the whole show you will put on together with him and it hasn't even started.
"First of all, a contract."
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transform4u · 3 months
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Hello, I was finally able to find you, I have seen what you have done and I need to ask you a favor, my best friend Mario is the personification of the word Twink. He is a good person and a very good dancer, I like him but the problem is that he is only interested in boys.
Could you help me get closer to him while we are on the dance floor, please?
You decide to take your friend Mario out for a night of dancing to celebrate Pride. His dance moves are legendary; whenever he hits the dance floor, his bubble butt shakes and draws a crowd. The lights of the club start to dazzle, reflecting off the sequins and vibrant colors of Pride flags all around.
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As you dance beside him, you can't help but notice how the lights begin to playfully blind him. The disco ball sends flashes of light scattering across his face, momentarily obscuring his view but adding to the dazzle of his performance. Neon lights strobe in sync with the music, casting dynamic patterns over his figure as he moves with fluid grace.
You watch with a mix of amusement and awe as your Mario's usually impeccable dance moves seem a bit off tonight. It's as if he's forgotten the smooth finesse of his usual style and instead opts for exaggerated thrusts and awkward gyrations. Normally so graceful and fluid on the dance floor, tonight his movements appear more oafish, lacking the usual finesse and rhythm. It's as if he's forgotten the elegant Fosse-inspired steps he usually effortlessly executes, and instead, he's resorting to simple thrusting motions.
Suddenly, with each powerful thrust, something unexpected happens. Mario's body begins to grow, inch by inch, until he stands head and shoulders above everyone else at a towering 6'5".
His shoulders broaden, becoming formidable masses of muscle, and his chest swells into hefty pecs that draw the eyes of those around him. His arms, once slender, now bulk up with defined biceps and triceps, sculpting his frame into a muscular powerhouse.
However, amidst this impressive growth, there's a stark contrast. His legs, seemingly unable to keep pace with the rapid changes elsewhere, appear diminutive in comparison. His movements, once so fluid and precise, now become awkward and uncoordinated. His feet, now seemingly too small for his larger frame, fumble on the dance floor, disrupting the rhythm and flow of his once-effortless dance style.
The twinkle in his eyes, once filled with joy and confidence, starts to fade. In a moment of both awe and concern, he suddenly shouts out, "Yo babe, watch this!"
His voice booms across the club, deeper and more resonant than before. Despite the attention and cheers from the crowd, there's an unmistakable hint of discomfort in his demeanor. He grabs crotch and begins to thrust like an animal, with each thrust, his cock seemed to thicken even more, stretching the fabric of his pants almost to their breaking point.
As you watched the scene unfold before you, your heart sinks. The once graceful and confident dancer had transformed into a desperate oafish man, seeking attention through his now-enlarged member.
As he "dances" closer towards you, you observe a subtle shift in his facial expression. The innocent, boyish charm that once defined his features begins to fade, replaced by a demeanor that mirrors that of a stereotypical fratbro. His jawline becomes more pronounced, his smile loses its genuine warmth, and his eyes adopt a confident, almost cocky glint. His brows furrow slightly, giving him a more intense look, and his lips form into a smirk that exudes self-assurance.
"Yo, babes, you look so hot tonight," he shouts in your ear, his voice louder than necessary in the bustling club atmosphere. His words carry a hint of bravado, a departure from his usual playful banter. "Why don't you be a good little lady and grab your man a beer."
His tone strikes an unfamiliar chord, catching you off guard. Despite feeling a twinge of resistance, you find yourself responding with a vapid giggle, almost on autopilot. Suppressing your discomfort, you oblige and fetch him a beer from the bar.
"Thanks, babe," he replies with a dismissive grunt as you hand him the beer. Without hesitation, he swiftly chugs it down, his actions more abrupt and assertive than usual. He starts rambling on about some hockey match he watched on TV and you can't remember him ever talking about sports.
As he speaks, his hands wander down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he pulls you closer to him. His touch is no longer gentle or playful; instead, it's rough and demanding. You can feel the heat emanating from his body as he presses himself against you on the dance floor.
"Come on," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Don't be shy." His hands move upwards along your sides until they reach the fabric of your top, where they begin to tug at it suggestively. "I know how much you love watching me dance," he says with a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes anymore.
In a haze of giggles that bubbled up effortlessly, you stood before your friend, completely unaware that your brunette locks now gleaming with a shocking platinum blonde hue.
Your lust began to grow uncontrollably. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his imposing figure and chiseled physique. Your eyes traced the lines of his muscles as they rippled beneath his shirt, and you found yourself wanting nothing more than to touch them – to feel their hardness against your soft skin.
Without thinking twice, you reached out and gently touched one of his pecs, feeling its firmness under your well-manicured fingertips. He let out a low groan as he leaned into your touch, encouraging you further. His skin was hotter than before; it seemed like he was burning up from within with desire for something more than just dancing on the floor.
"You're looking so hot, Chet," you cooed, your voice carrying a breathless infatuation, not realizing the change in your friend's name.
Chet turned to you, his gaze seemed to penetrate through your distracted state, locking onto your new vapid sweetness. "Babe," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "wouldn't it be more fun if we found someone else to join us?" he said with a cocky smile, pointing to some blonde bimbo dancing with a group of gay guys.
With that, his fate was sealed. The once graceful and confident dancer had become just another dumb fratbro douchebag, looking to score with any available woman in sight. His eyes no longer held the twinkle of joy or passion; instead, they were filled with lust and desire for nothing more than a quick hookup.
As he continued to grind against you on the dance floor, it became clear that you were nothing more than a means to an end for him tonight – just another blonde bimbo he could add to his list of conquests. You felt like a mere pawn in his game, your own desires and feelings reduced to insignificance in comparison to his quest for validation through sexual exploits.
As the night wore on, it became increasingly clear that he had become a complete and utter douchebag. His body, once so graceful and powerful, now moved with an animalistic fervor as he groped any woman who crossed his path. His words were laced with lewd innuendos and crude remarks aimed at reducing women to nothing more than objects of sexual desire.
His behavior towards you was no different; each time you tried to break away from his grasp or voice your discomfort, he would only grow more aggressive in pursuit of what he wanted – which seemed to be nothing more than scoring with two blonde bimbos for the night. You realized you were becoming just another dumb blonde cheerleader hookup whom he could easily dispose of once satiated.
As you moved your finger up his tight six-pack abs, feeling the heat emanating from his body, you couldn't help but giggle nervously. "Sure Chet," you said, trying to sound confident despite the butterflies in your stomach. "I'd love to have a threesome with you. You're so hot."
But before you could even finish your sentence, he cut you off with a grunt and dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't go calling me 'babe,' babe," he said mockingly. "Now be a good little girl and grab me another beer while I try to get that chick's number." With that, he turned away from you and began flirting shamelessly with another blonde bimbo who had caught his eye on the dance floor.
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aphrogeneias · 1 year
Text
don't go (sharing your devotion) — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did. or, eddie realizes he can't keep being the sole object of his best friend's attention forever and ends up screwing things up.
maybe it was about time.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: friends to lovers, jealousy (on eddie's side, he's not proud of it), light angst, unresolved sexual tension, a little bit of smut (+18), a hint of sub!eddie
author's note: was inspired to upload this to tumblr by @cursedyuta's stellar subby eddie content, and it made me remember i had this hidden. this was supposed to be two-part but i couldn't find the motivation to write any more, i'm sorry about the open ending! maybe it will gain a follow up one day, never say never <3
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Eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did.
It stemmed from regret, pure and simple. Regret of not asking you out all the times you were alone with him, of not confessing his feelings, of not making you his when he had the chance. You weren't his, no matter how much he acted like you were.
As far as everyone was concerned, you were Eddie's girl. Being the only girl in The Hellfire Club — until Erica Sinclair's unexpected arrival, that was — and the only girl he was always seen with, it was easy to make that assumption, and neither of you really cared to clear those rumors. Something in his chest swelled with pride anytime someone called you his girlfriend and all you did was roll your eyes, but never tell them they were wrong.
Sometimes he wondered if you knew. You had to know, he wasn't exactly hiding.
His reputation did most of the work to keep guys away from you, but there were a few, brave ones who weren't really intimidated by Eddie "The Freak" Munson — alleged satanist, cult leader and whatever other false atrocity this town was willing to put on his shoulders. Those brave ones, the ones who asked you on dates and dared keep you from spending time with him, suffered with Eddie's relentless, petty teasing and practiced death stares.
Steve Harrington didn't seem easily intimidated by him in the slightest, though.
Eddie had all but scoffed when you told him you'd been going out with the former King of Hawkins High. It wasn’t until he saw the two of you together that reality started to sink in.
He didn't mean for things to get ugly, but the moment realized you were slipping through his fingers was an awakening he didn't think he could handle.
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"What was all that about?"
Eddie shrugged, running a hand through his shaggy hair, a little humid from sweat. It was hot that night, even hotter inside the small downstairs bathroom you locked yourself with him in. Outside, the small party the drama club kids were throwing went on, voices and music being muffled by the closed door.
"I just wanted to know what Harrington was doing hanging out with low lives like us. Can't I be curious?" His voice was a bit slurred, no doubt from all the cheap beer he downed before and after Corroded Coffin's gig, fuming as he stared at you from across the room, all tangled with Steve, laughing at his jokes.
You leaned on the tiled wall, crossing your arms. He tried not to let his eyes wander lower, to the way your tits were pushed up in that halter top that left little to the imagination, but his was already running wild. "Do you hear yourself, Eddie? When you speak? Or did all that headbanging finally mess with your brain?"
"I think that would be the drugs, sweetheart."
It was a poor attempt to make you laugh, he knew. You knew it too, because your face remained impassive.
"You were curious, then. That's why you threw a fucking scene? Is that why you acted like an idiot and dragged me along with you, in front of all of those people?"
"Wouldn't be the first time." He mumbled, now unable to meet your eyes. Shame was something Eddie rarely felt, comfortable in his own skin most of the time, no matter what other people thought — but when it came to you, all he wanted to do was shield you from those same judgemental gazes, but instead, he put you right in the way of their scrutiny.
All because he couldn't stand the sight of you flirting with someone else.
"Goddamnit, Eddie! Can't you be serious for once in your life? This isn't the first time you do this shit but this time you went too far."
"I didn't like watching Harrington being all over you, okay? I didn't like knowing he's going to take advantage of you just like he does with all those other girls. Is that what you want to hear?"
He knew he was exaggerating, in fact, he knew nothing about Steve Harrington's intentions towards you, or any of the other girls he was seen around with, but none of that mattered to the ugly, jealous monster roaring in his insides.
Sighing, you close your eyes before looking right into his. "No, Eddie. That's not what I want to hear, but an apology would be nice."
The words "I'm Sorry" were stuck inside his throat, along with those three little words he struggled to say to you, as he watched you leave through the door and lose yourself amongst the crowd.
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The day after your fight was spent in his trailer, nursing a bad hangover and a broken heart, both of which were his own fault, and the consequences of his reckless behavior. One of them hurt more than the other.
Eddie was sitting on the old brown couch on the trailer's porch as the sun went down on the horizon, smoking the uptenth cigarette of that cursed day when he saw Steve's burgundy BMW enter the trailer park from afar, and stop right in front of the Mayfield's trailer.
That wasn't unusual, since Steve was often checking up on the Mayfield girl, just as he did with Dustin, as far as Eddie knew. What was different this time was you on his passenger seat, looking as pretty as you did the night before. He stood up as he watched you talk, his heart clenching inside his chest when you exchanged a quick kiss before you both left the car, Steve going into the Mayfield's home and you made your way to the opposite side.
His side.
He could see it from afar, the pain in your eyes. There was rage too, lingering, somewhere in there. Your hips swayed with the determined movements of your feet, and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the mini skirt you were wearing — the black one, his favorite. Not that you knew it was, but every time you wore it, his mind raced with thoughts of what was hidden under that tiny piece of fabric, struggling with the soft flesh of your thick thighs.
For a moment, he thought about how might look like to you, standing shirtless on his porch, a long since extinct cigarette hanging from his fingers, wearing those same old black jeans. He wondered if you could see the dark circles under his eyes, or if his hair looked like the bird's nest it certainly felt like. Eddie felt sick, unworthy of your presence, unworthy of you. He kept wishing you would turn away, back to the golden boy who had apparently won your heart, but suddenly there you were, right in front of him.
"Will you let me in, please? We need to talk."
Not trusting his voice, he nodded, stopping out of the porch and towards the door, where you followed him to. Once you were inside, the silence between you was heavy, oppressive, until you were the one who broke it.
“You know, you can’t keep guys away from me forever.” There was a shy, almost teasing, smile behind your words.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He avoided your eyes, tracking back further into the house and in the direction of his room, knowing you would follow him. The angry stomp of your boots behind him was like music to his ears, it made his heart race into his ribcage unlike any heavy beat of bass drums.
At that moment, Eddie couldn't find anything more beautiful than you — standing in the yellow light of his room, eyes set on him, brows and lips set on a hard line, making him want to reach out and run his fingers through them to soothe your expression. You looked like an avenging angel, a goddess come to put him in his place.
There was no one else he'd rather be on his knees for.
“Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and the worst part is that you keep acting like nothing is happening, like… like you haven’t been doing this for years. Eddie, I’m…”, it weighed on his heart, the way you sighed deeply, stopping yourself mid-sentence, “I’m tired. I’m tired of dancing around whatever is going on here, so you’ll either spit it out and tell me what you want, or I’m gonna walk out of here and go home with Steve, because at least he’s not the one bullshitting me.”
It wasn’t often that Eddie Munson was left speechless.
Ever the wordsmith, he should have had the perfect excuse on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he has nothing. Eddie watched you with dark eyes, burning under your gaze, his mouth sewn shut. With one last look, a bullet through his already wrecked chest, you turned to leave.
"No, no, no!" Panicking as he felt you slipping through his fingers, Eddie finally reached out, running to stand between you and the door, voice rising in a whine, "Don't go with Harrington. Please, I'll do anything you want, just… stay, please?"
You hesitated a little before coming closer, neatly brushing his chest with yours, your perfume making him almost dizzy, making him close his eyes for a moment, taking you in.
"All I want is for you to tell me what you want." You insisted.
Placing his hands on his hips, the same hands that were itching to touch you, and looking up, chuckling with nervousness, he finally confessed, "I want you. Is that good enough for you, huh? Is that what you want to hear?" He caught himself repeating the same words as yesterday, only this time, he meant then. "In fact, you're all I've ever wanted. I want you so bad it's embarrassing, Y/N. It's fucking ruining me."
Eddie was met with silence, but at the same time he looked down to you, you raised your hands to rest them on his chest, spreading heat through the worn out Sabbath shirt he was wearing and into his skin. "Did it kill you to admit that?"
"No, but you are, baby."
"Consider it payback for all the years you wasted being an asshole and not realizing you could have had me this whole time."
Pushing him slightly, taking advantage of How distracted he was by your unexpected — or should they be expected? — words, you maneuvered the both of you until he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed.
"Can I still have you now?"
With a final push from your delicate hands, Eddie landed softly on the bed, lying on his back, his hair falling like a dark halo around his bed. He saw your expression soften as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. This time, he didn't restrain from touching you, letting his hands slide over the skin of your soft thighs, squeezing them lightly. He could feel the heat of your pussy from under the thin fabric of your panties, making him swallow back a moan. He wanted to grind against you, release a little of the tension rising in his jeans, but he kept still, waiting for your next move.
It felt like a dream, you on top of him, looking like every bit of a wet dream as well. Your hands grabbed his wrists and positioned them above his head as you lowered your face right above his flustered one.
"You see, the thing is… I don't think you deserve to have me right now, Eddie baby. You need to think about what you've done a little more, don't you think?"
A shiver ran down his spine with your words, making his body writhe under you, a wild fire spreading through him, ready to eat him alive — just like you looked like you were about to do.
"See, I'm gonna have to go and find a way to let Steve down gently, and then we're gonna talk, actually talk, about whatever this is," you motioned with your head at the two of you, "okay? No more running, no more hiding."
"No more running, no more hiding." He nodded frantically, repeating your words. Eager to get on your good side again.
"Good." You placed a sweet kiss to his forehead, a stark contrast to the torture you were putting him through. "Was that so hard?"
You had no idea.
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