#f&h band au

[simstv]

album art :oD i might post a silly behind the scenes of the party making this lol

[screampied]

GOVERNMENT HOOKER ?! — GOJO & GETO ☆

ᡴꪫ headline. what happens when you’re the popstar too? even better question: what happens when you show up to a show with no panties thanks to your band mates gojo and geto?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, thrēesomes, semi-public themes, unprotected, fucking backstage, praise, dirty talk, geto showing gojo how to touch you, cucking, hair pulling, double penetratıon, size kink, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), gojo gets cancelled (again)

an. ignore alejandro that chapter never happened hahakdlf

popstar!gojo mlist

“um hello. if i wanted to watch you two make out i’d watch corn or something.” gojo pouts, scowl and all. he watches as his other bandmate—geto, the star bassist shove his tongue down your throat. he was so jealous, maybe having intimate relations with your two mates wasn’t the best idea but who cares, right?

“porn not corn,” you roll your eyes, pulling away from geto to stare at the popstar. gojo had the biggest frown on his face, he wanted some too. besides, it was about an hour before the show would actually start and he was bored out of his skull. he couldn’t help but roam his eyes all down your attire, the bedazzled rhinestones that stuck against the fabric, your fishnets, the way they effortlessly stuck against your skin. “what?”

geto leans back with a desirable slouch, tangled knots of his hair falling against his broad shoulders before he hums. “oh, he’s jus’ jealous. he wants to kiss you too, princess,” and geto briefly unstraps his mic that was attached near his chin. “to be fair though, gojo doesn’t know the first step on pleasing women.”

“uh huh, and you do?” gojo glowers, purposely sitting right between the two of you. the both of you dramatically groan, the mood suddenly ruined from the spoiled popstar before he slings an arm around you. “h-hey, pretty.”

and his voice cracks— oops.

you giggle and it only makes gojo’s pout deepen. he mopes and you cup his face with a cheeky grin. “satoru, stop whining. if you wanted to touch me too, you could have just asked,” and with irises as azure as a blue day sky, they dilate. gojo melts from your touch alone, a thumb of yours strokes his left temple and his attention’s suddenly captivated. “do you want a kiss too?”

“y- yes,” he stammers, hearing geto snicker directly next to him. he glares, uttering a, “shut up,” and as his eyes focus back towards you, he subtlety glances at your foxy glossed lips that were cutely pursed. “i wanna kiss you, please..”

it was winsome in a way. out of all the times gojo kissed you, he acts like this was his first time. but in actuality,

he’s always been a bit addicted to you. you sort of came out of nowhere, he’s always been a well known popstar all around the world but with you, he’s had to share his spotlight. not that he ever really minded, gojo would always share if it was with you.

currently—the two of you were touring together, you weren’t as influential to the famed pop genre, but you had a bit of a fanbase yourself. you started about a year ago, gojo was a … secret fanboy of you back when the two of you first met. he heard your voice and knew he had to have you.

have as in, have you as an opener for one of his shows which then turned to many. and now, he’s on his highly anticipated world tour with you. die hard fans immediately wanted to know more about you as you started to make your mark in the industry.

whilst your lips gingerly press against gojo’s, he lets off a sweet harmonic moan.

you taste so sweet, honeyed even.

gojo’s always had a craving for sweet things, you’ve just helped him indulge in it further.

a tongue of his runs against your bottom lip. he sucks on it succinctly, tasting the syrupy flavor of lip gloss that bedaubs over your lips. he deepens the kiss by a mile—gojo brings two hands toward your waist, two thumbs swiftly rubbing against your sides as each tongue rummages through and through. a smile compresses against your lips as you make out with him, sucking on his tongue and he whines for more.

“he’s gonna fall ‘n love at this rate,” geto titters, prying his best friend off. gojo pouts once the kiss devestatingly breaks. a slippery concoction-like string of spit wrests away from each lips as gojo exhales deeply. geto leans in to kiss underneath your neck before speaking in a perky purr. “hm, we’ve maybe got a good… what—” and the bassist glances at the watch that sticks to his wrist. “forty minutes left?”

“hey, don’t hog her,” gojo grumbles, and they’re both practically fighting over you. geto smugly grins, lowering his head towards your thighs to nip more near your cobweb-styled fishnets. you lie back against the sofa as the two both stare at you with such lust piercing into their eyes. “you’re so pretty,” he puffs, a thumb of his stroking against your chin.

“toru, c’mereee,” geto slyly says, ushering him with two moving fingers. gojo gets beside him and they’re both hovering over you. leaning back against the cushioned furniture—you sprawl your legs out a bit, tossing off your high inched stilettos. “feel how wet she is for me— eh, i mean us.”

you were a bit wet, profusely wet after making out with geto previously for so long.

with his hands meandering all down your body in the process, his knee goes between your thighs every few seconds. your laced panties were merely stuck together against your skin—gojo feels himself pant once he notices the little dampened spot near the middle of the cottony fabric. “hurry up though,” you stammer. “kento’s gonna kill us if we show up late for another show.”

kento nanami being gojo’s stern manager,

“i got you, princess,” geto hums, grabbing ahold of your wrist. gojo however was quite eager, desperate to run his fingers near your soaked entrance. “satoru, don’t drool over her now. have some manners.” he teases, showing him how to skim his fingers against your now exposed clit. your panties were now pulled to the side and you gnaw on your bottom lip to suppress a few of your incoming moans.

“shut up, s-suguu,” he scoffs, a thumb of his ghosting down your swollen slit. gojo’s already mesmerized, oh, you were sopping wet. it should be a crime to be this drenched. although— he’s a bit timid on what to do next. gojo leans right between your legs, planting a soft kiss near the inner crevice of your legs. “m-mmh.” he coos out, the scent of your arousal immensely pouring into his nostrils. you were so addictive, he barely even had a taste of you and he already wanted more.

“she’s pretty isn’t she,” geto whispers and as you look down, they’re both right between your thighs. greedy, you knew they’d probably share. geto playfully sinks his teeth into your thigh before he trails his face up. he creates a single licking trail against your folds and you moan. gojo watches, the direct spot he licks against was your sweetened clitoral hood. “get her wet, like this,” and his long black lashes close. the warmth of geto’s tongue already makes your back arch. he’s gentle yet precise—he slurps you for a few more moments before a stubby thumb of his prods inside of your pulsating clit. after a few quickened seconds he pulls away, furtively smiling at gojo. “can you do that orrr do i gotta hold your hand?”

“oh fuck you, man. i can eat pussy.” gojo glares, and their banter was always so entertaining to watch.

you giggle, seeing gojo’s annoyed frustration before the bassist gets up to stand. you glance up at him—he’s towering over you, immediately you lick your lips at the sight of his skin tight jeans.

oh, how they perfectly stuck against his skin, quite literally skin tight. he had such a big bulge already poking out, his zipper wouldn’t even zip fully. geto’s fly was proudly open, he hums to himself as he sees your eager hands paw against his pants. with a big hand grabbing onto the crown of your head, he cheeses. “hmm, you want a taste of somethin’ too, huh? need me to train those pretty vocal chords before the show?”

you nod, but his hand snakes its way to cup onto your chin. “words,” he purrs, a thumb peeling down your bottom lip. you moan once you feel gojo starting to lay his tongue flat against your cunt, relishing in your precious flavor. he’s already drooling over you, making you ten times more wet. gojo was gonna order something before performing—but eating you out was cheaper, and far more tasty than his original craving dish. “tell me what that throat wants, pretty.”

as you’re pursing your lips to speak, you moan at the way gojo’s right between your legs, teeth of his playfully gnawing near your thighs whilst he’s buried face full into you. “w- want your cock,” you mewl out with pretty polished eyes. geto’s jeans, the bulge was all pressed against your face— he yanks down his pants only to rub your face against the printed fabric. “suguru, need it.”

“fuck,” he grunts, feeling how you voluntarily roll out your own tongue, flicking it against the edges of his boxers. his bulge, it leaves you with a non-taste in your mouth, your legs start to quaver from gojo’s tongue. the popstar’s eating you out as if he’s haven’t had a good meal in years. he’s cutely moaning into your cunt, feeling the growing strain in beneath his briefs himself. geto delicately grabs a fistful of your hair before he raises a brow. “teeth, pull ‘em off with your teeth. we won’t use our hands today, baby.”

with a pout, you comply—leaning in, the pointed areas of your canines latch onto his underwear. its stretchy. you whine, reaching a hand down to touch yourself but gojo lightly smacks your hand.

“girl, ‘m eating.”

geto giggles, watching the pout on your face only squeeze against your expressions tighter. as you’re peeling his boxers down with your teeth, slowly, his thick cock springs out. it’s so big, and of course—gojo pauses to take a quick look himself. his jaw faintly drops at his best friend’s hefty size, and as he’s staring—geto catches him gawking before he sneers.

“oh, you’re lookin’ like you wanna suck me off too, satoru,” and he hums once he feels your tongue lick against his leaky base. “don’t be ungrateful, popstar. your meal’s right in front of you.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, feeling a sudden wave of heat wash against the entirety of his face. gojo goes back to sliding his tongue against your sensitive nub, listening to your sweet whimpers. you’re barely able to hold still. in the background, all that could be heard was the clamorous sounds of chants and screams—the audience, awaiting for their beloved satoru gojo who was currently occupying his own vocals between your thighs. he was never once to complain, the softly padded cartilage part of his nose swipes against your folds and your tummy zealously caves in. he licks you in all the right spots, licks that gradually turn into deep, sloppy sucks. “m-mhm, so sweet.”

“heyy,” geto whispers, craning your head to stare back up at him. as you’re met with the thickness of his shaft standing tall right in front of your face, you lean in to kiss the very tip of his frenulum. he groans, the outer parts of his abs clenching in pleasure. he couldn’t wait to feel the very inside of your throat, the tightness, the sheer warmth. with your tongue exploring everywhere—every specific spot, tracing the outline of his size, you whine.

with plump, spit-glossed lips—you dangle your jaw down a bit, preparing to take him inside. “good girl. no slobbin’ on it, okay? you don’t wanna be a messy girl this time, do ya? not before a big show, yeah?”

you reply with a subtle head nod, your sweet lips happily opening around his ample fat cockhead.

“yeah? you want me to really throat train you, that bad huh. warm up that pretty diaphragm?” geto sighs, his darkened arch brows lowering once you start to slowly sink your throat down onto his excited length. geto’s barely a few inches in and you feel a sudden pulse race down his dick.

so cute, geto keeps his eyes on you the entire time—occasionally, his eyes detour from you to gojo. he was already lost in your pussy as if it was a maze he’d never escape from. gojo’s all underneath you as you sit over him on all fours. his tongue had already located everywhere—his tongue making its metaphorical mark in every secluded area inside of your wet folds.

you were melting, muffled moans started to spew out of your mouth from gojo’s tongue and the sudden bitter taste of geto’s pre-cum.

sweet, yet bitter..

three perfect words to describe geto’s taste— it lives on your tongue for a long time before you start to lower your mouth down on him. it’s a tight fit at first, you can already feel a few sloppy remnants of your own saliva trickle down the sides of your lips. “ah,” you gasp out, grazing the tip of your tongue over the fat crown of his dick. a taste you wanted to always savor. you moan, feeling geto sneak a hand down to pry a bit more between your already openly exposed legs. he’s almost all the way down your throat before you start to suck him off. he’s so thick that you merely gag from the first few thwacks his tip makes against the roof of your mouth.

“wider for me. lay out that tongue, yeah,” and a thumb of his traces against the curvature of your lips. you can’t help the drool that’s starting to trickle down near the very corners of your mouth. you whine, feeling that pang of a throb welt within your folds from gojo’s slurping. he was in fact, a messy eater. he couldn’t help it, especially with how sugary you taste for him, the more his tongue traverses throughout every part of your walls, the more he craves for more. he yearns for more of your taste. gojo prods two fingers against your slit before running them down, whining himself from his poking boner that’s grinding against the sofa. geto pulls his dick out to smear his dripping tip onto your lips—only to then shove it back in. you breathe through your nose before you start to suck again. timelessly, geto’s hitting against the back of your throat with ease.

gojo’s tongue already has you feeling a sense of numbness in your toes, wiggling it was little to no use. you eagerly wanted to touch yourself but each time you’d even attempt, he grabs your wrist so you won’t distract him from his meal.

gojo was dead set on making you make a mess on his tongue. “m-mph,” you’d gasp out in a muffled manner, geto’s firm grip on your hair makes your eyes merely roll into its backing depths of your cranium.

the bassist gives you a sweet head pat, shoving you all the way in before pulling you out, your nose tickles against the curled black pubic hairs that glue against his skin and he grunts. the perfect throat for a singer. after this, he was sure you’d be hitting high soprano notes like his loser best friend of a popstar in no time.

in which you were though, as you’re still perfectly on all fours with your mouth occupied and gojo directly propped underneath you, eating out your cunt like a starved man. you gasp, a sudden feeling of agitation leaking into your arousal.

it was approaching,

with the abrupt twitch of geto’s brows, he was coming the same time you were. “s-shittt,” he swallows, the ball stuffed in his throat, known as the adam’s apple. it occasionally shifts inside of his neck continues to move as he lets off guttural moans. with the way your tongue teasingly glides across his sensitive slit, he’s steadily preparing to shoot such a whopping load down your throat. “good girl, gonna make me cum, gonna make me c-cum with that pretty tight throat, yeah.”

geto’s low voice judders a bit, he’s that close that he almost starts to spasm.

with a concise bite on his lip, stopping himself from drawing blood—he leers down at you, a thumb of his stroking your lip. you were a mess, amounts of your own drool seeping down the corners of your lips before he wipes it away. “c’monnn, cum with me pretty, make a mess on that loser’s tongue for me.”

“fuck you s-suguru.” gojo grumbles, the rapid tempo of his tongue having you start to feel all kinds of pleasurable feelings. your legs had already gave out. two hands of gojo’s grip against your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before you clench against his mouth. whilst gojo’s goading at you with his tongue, again—geto’s cock reaches all the way to the roof of your throat. your tongue dances against the prodding veins that coats his dick once more before within seconds, he shoots out.

he’s still got a hand cupped over your head. the leather of his glove on his right hand tugs against the hairs of your scalp as he’s emptying a gooey volume down your tongue. “ugh, ‘s it. so much i’ve been savin’ so much for you,” he pants, lengthy strands of his hair continuing to block his view of vision in his face. as geto’s abs tenses, the minute you taste the viscous spurts of his bitterly sweet cum, it slowly starts to drizzle in your mouth.

it pours down your throat like the niagara— not even seconds later and you finish also, body twitching and overcoming with the hypnotic feelings of ectacsy and fucking salaciously lewd nirvana,

as you rut your hips against gojo’s face a few more times, he grips your hips whilst you come undone. he groans, the tent in his pants practically poking through his designer ‘toru briefs that costs well over four hundred dollars. but leave it to the popstar to spend his money on pretty boxers, blue too, his favorite color.

geto inhales a single breath, nostrils flaring all up before he wraps a hand around his length—finally pulling it out of your mouth.

he had a sheepish grin while he stares at you being laid back against the couch, slouching, and that’s when he huffs, a thumb poking your cheek to open it. “l-let’s see that tongue,” and he rubs his swollen tip against the edges of your tremoring lips. you swallowed, lolling out your pink, needy tongue and gojo sits up to see also. he couldn’t help but feel a tang of jealously, he wanted your attention. “mhm, good girl. nice ‘n clean, swallowed it all ‘n didn’t waste a drop,” and his eyes peer towards gojo who had a cute scowl on his lips. ah, he was already starting to feel left out. “satoru, kiss her.”

“uh? don’t tell me what to do, i was gonna do that anyway,” he pouts, his pretty eyes rolling back.

such sass, geto snickers at him before he kneels down to bring you up close to him. gojo cups your face, inching his wet lips toward you before he presses his own against yours. you moan, feeling the popstar’s hands wander through your dazzled blouse. with the taste of yourself still residing on his tongue, you grow addicted immediately.

a hand of his ghosts around the back of your neck, pulling you close and another hand of his ghosts between your spread open thighs. “grind against me, y-yeah, fuck,” he whines, feeling you already rub against his body. gojo’s a sloppy kisser too. the moment his tongue delves into yours, tangling with your own, he starts to feel volumes of his saliva dribble out from his mouth.

messy, a perfect way to describe the popstar. he’s had plenty of action throughout his life— it usually comes with the fame, but he’s never felt like this with someone like you.

sure, this was probably all counts of unprofessionalism but he didn’t care. you didn’t care either. geto, well … he was just geto.

“princess, keep grindin’ against him like that ‘n you’re gonna make him cum through his sweats,” geto chortles, pulling you off of him to press his own lips against you. gojo grumbles, watching his two band mates make out — oh, it was just something about your taste that made them both so drawn to you. they were driven to your lips, to your taste, to you in general. like moths to a flame. geto’s kisses were more passionate and sincere, he wraps a hand around your neck gently, a thumb caressing the passageway of your throat whilst he starts to suck against your tongue. with lips crashing amongst each other, he parts your legs open just a bit more before he departs away. “can never get enough,” and he hums to his best friend with a wry grin. “satoru, aw. what? are ya mad at me?”

“i was kissing her, man.”

“more like swallowing her face whole, come on baby-”

as they continue to bicker right in front of you, gojo leans back against the couch and geto props up directly behind you. he yanks down his sweats from last minute rehearsal and you hover over him in preparation to straddle him.

“satoru, you’re pouting.” you point out, cupping his face. indeed he was, cute pink bottom lip sticking out and he’s about to melt at how hot you look on top of him.

“it’s because he’s gonna live up to his other stage name as a two pump champ.” geto yawns,

gojo glares, desperately wishing to wipe that sly smirk off of geto’s face. then again he wasn’t exactly lying. the popstar’s known for a lot of things but most importantly—he was known for being the two pump champ, how he could barely last a few solid minutes inside of a girl before he completely spazzes out, finishing prematurely.

that only happened sometimes,

according to gojo.

“i’ll fuck you,” gojo bleats.

“what?” geto smirks.

“i said fuck you.” gojo corrects himself, barely even comprehended what he said the first time.

“yeah? maybe later.”

“stop flirting,” you roll your eyes, lifting yourself a bit on top of gojo. feeling geto’s hands suddenly cling onto your waist, you let out a soft murmur. “can i take you both?”

in a hoarse whisper, geto sneaks a few kisses against your collarbone. “are you asking, princess?” and his touch alone sends you a plethora of shivers everywhere. you lean back against his chest, still straddling gojo before biting your lip—replying with a subtle nod. “ah, ‘toru she wants to take us both. got enough energy for that?”

he shoots him daggers and the bassist only grins.

“f-fuck, jus’ . . hurry up. ‘m fuckin’ hard,” he swallows, his own fingertips brushing against the very curvature of your rocking hips.

white strands of his hair practically binding against his forehead. he’s undoubtedly hard, feeling his breathing slow down a bit as he looks down. your wet cunt was all swollen and preparing to be destroyed by them both. you weren’t even sure if you could take them both at the same time time—but where there’s a will, there’s a way,

you were far too pent up to even think about tonight’s show. your throbbing only increases before you get a hold of gojo’s length. he’s more thin with a lot of inches while geto’s more thick and bulky. just picturing the mere image of them both stuffing you full has your panties in a twist. speaking of panties— they were still leisurely pulled to the side of you, not bothering to take them off fully.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” gojo mewls out, his voice sounds more like a whine than anything. it was a contest between the both of you though — who was the most louder. gojo satoru or your pussy, he couldn’t help it. his whines only continue to ring across the small, claustrophobic room the further you take them both. “that’s it, yeah. jus’ keep those pretty eyes down h-here.”

a shaky breath cuts out from gojo’s lips as you feel him start to gradually sink inside of your cunt.

you moan almost immediately, holding onto his thighs whilst geto’s right behind you, following the same. you’re straddling gojo and taking him from the front and also taking geto from behind. the entirety of your pussy was lukewarm, it makes gojo already start to spasm—a familiar candied texture lingers in his mouth, his saliva that trickles inside before he can eventually swallows. you’re so tight at first, the grip you have against them both does wonders..

if it was anything though, gojo would take pussy over publicity any day.

you felt way too good. it doesn’t take them long before they both start to bottom out inside of you. geto nips a few kisses near the outer areas of your collarbone—he could never get enough of your taste, both of them couldn’t.

you were sweet like candy, gojo always did have a sweet tooth after all. as they’re both easing their ways inside of your slick entrances, you slump back against geto’s chest. “fuck, ‘s right. nice ‘n slow baby. takin’ us both so well.”

the stretch was purely appetizing—your cunt instinctively squeezes down against them, clamping.

as you start to jerk your hips forward with them being all the way in, you feel geto’s hands slither its way inside of your dazzled blouse. near the very skirts of the fabric, he fondles against your neglected breasts, giving them a nice firm grab. the tips of his soft padded thumbs strum against your nipples and you whine. “f-fuck,” you moan out, your hips rutting against them both in harmony—in perfect sync. even the sofa’s producing a tune of its own with the constant repetitive creaking. with geto’s hands still roaming against your body, it trails down to your chest and near your tummy. he cunningly grins once he feels the written lines of his signature displayed on your body. his signature—earlier, you’d ask him to write his name on you and he was more than happy to oblige. the musk of the strong scented sharpie wafts through the air, his fingers slew against the neatly written words that spelled out ‘suguru’s favorite’ in bold.

as you’re riding gojo, he takes a peek himself at your exposed abdomen and he grunts under his breath. “fucker.”

“someone mad?” geto fake pouts, poking fun at his best friend and that only gifts him a glare.

you continue to grind your hips against them, feeling gojo’s touch gently caress the lower parts of your body. the blaring roaring chants outside of the room near the arena only gets louder. like most of his shows, it was pretty packed. gojo’s always getting sold out shows of around thousands of people just to see him perform live.

but oh, did his precious little fangirls hate your guts.

they didn’t just hate you, they loathed you.

they loathed how you just randomly came into the picture, how you came out of nowhere and started opening up shows for him. everyone always wanted in on the scoop though. who were you and just why was gojo so obsessed?

where there’s gojo’s intimidating length—there’s geto’s deliciously fat girth. you couldn’t pick out just who was stuffing you deeper, you felt everything all at once. you’re unwaveringly moving your hips against them both and your cunt’s squelching out such pleasurable symphonies. “ugh,” gojo groans, dragging your hips back and forth against him with his hands. you’re so pretty like this, the view he’s got of you just riding him makes his dick twitch inside of you. you’ve never felt so full, with both guys already bottomed out—you almost struggle to barrel in both lengths at first. “k-keep ridin’ me like this ‘n i’m gonna cummm.”

you’re working your hips against them both—geto still has his hands attached to your chest, gently seeping his teeth into the juncture of your neck. his tongue was so warm, he flicks his moving muscle against the piercing marks he’s left you on your collarbone.

so sweet..

with each hole, it’s both getting its fair share of fullness and every flavorsome inch you’re taking your mouth watering. it salivates quickly and not before long—you feel yourself convulsing from each of them. you feel a palpitating pang surge underneath your thighs as you bounce against them both. the couch suddenly shrieks in unexpected dismay at the piles of weight slamming against the furniture each second.

“relax, easy easy,” geto purrs against you, licking near the outer shell of your ear. you moan, his hands starting to feel elsewhere before he rubs a few circles against your folds. you gasp, your body jolting in response. the stimulation was almost too much to bare—too good, combining both shafts, you felt the fullest one could ever be.

within seconds, they’re both buried to the hilt.

you pierce your teeth into your bottom lip before you start to rock. gojo stares at your body—the cute halfway pulled up blouse that was shimmering in the light. once all pretty and neat, now wrinkled and practically ripped to shreds all thanks to the tight grips of the two stars. gojo loudly whines, a hand of his sticking to your hips like velcro before he starts to yoke your hips further into him. “goddamn, s-so warm, jus’ askin’ to be stretched by us both, fuck ‘m not gonna last.”

“like i said, two pump champ.” geto whispers, broad hands of his own clinging to your backside.

his best friend gives him nothing more but a glower again as you’re taking both of them from each hole. the stretch lasts for a good while, your gummy textured walls squeezes against them before you feel a sudden coil burst. so good, the way your hips roll and throw back against them was so hot. the recoil—geto’s personal favorite part. he loves to give your ass spanks as you continue to jerk and jostle against them both. bodies on bodies on bodies—gojo grunts lowly as he brings a hand to play with your ignored tits. a thumb of his grazes against your unclamped bra that was just barely shielding your soft plump mounds.

“f-fuck,” you moan, rocking your hips repeatedly, the chants from the area only grows louder until it’s a deafening roar. time was merely up but you could care less. the hot warmth of geto’s breath brushes against your skin as he slides his tongue against your neck. he loved to dig his pearly whites into the depths of your skin, giving you a playful nibble. he does all that only to kiss against the new marks that print into your skin. he wants more of you. “s-stretchin’ me out s’good.”

as you’re being mushed with them both — your breaths start to become more heavy and irregular.

wet, your cunt sloshes and sloshes from each movement and it’s so lewd. you’re jerking back and forth until the sofa’s squeaking out pretty melodic moans of itself. you’re sopping wet, you reach down to touch yourself and geto grabs your wrist. “nuh uh,” he coos against your ear. “this pussy’s for my hands only, baby.”

“and mine..” gojo pouts.

“yeah, no,” geto chimes, hearing your cute grumble before he touches your swollen cunt for you. “mmm, such a wet girl. can’t believe you were really gonna perform with a pussy this soaked. my my.”

gojo’s losing it underneath you—his face flushes before he’s dragging you quicker and quicker against him. sharp exhales leave from his lips and it’s not before long that you and him were both getting close—geto shortly following too. it only takes about a good few minutes before that familiar pool stirs into the deep abyss of your obscene heat. you felt a good parcel of nerves trigger all over you’re body and you can’t stay still. with your mouth hanging open, geto’s continuing to rub circles against your throbbing clit.

“c-cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper pathetically, feeling the honed edge of his hips strike into you at a more hasty tempo. geto can’t keep his hands off you, they both can’t keep their hands off of you.

the minute you feel the fat head of gojo’s dick broach against that particular spot. you’re seeing all types of unnamed stars in your blurred vision.

it’s here, you’re long awaited orgasm—almost, it’s at the very tip of your tongue again, the very edge.

with the way your pussy’s responding to them both, you’re dripping like a spigot — not even caring that you’re coating each of their dicks with your saturated juices. “make a mess baby,” geto whispers, a hand wrapping around your throat as your ass pressed up against him. “cum on our dicks, yeah. ride satoru ‘till he fuckin’ whines.”

the pace only quickens—gojo lies back with his head already thrown back in defeat. “i’m gonna fuckin’ die,” he whimpers, his pulsing dick at its very peak. it feels so good for him that it almost hurts. gojo spanks your ass a few times for encouragement, feeling the tightness of his jaw clench down before he feels you wring around his crazed shaft. “h-hah, that would make a good track title. ‘m gonna fuckin’ dieeee.”

“s-shut up.” you moan, slinging your arms around the popstar. one glance at him and he’s already pussy drunk.

rightfully, you lean in to kiss him as you finally cum. as expected his tongue parts inside of you sloppily, masses of his famous saliva cascades down the sides. he was nothing but a mess for you. as you’re slowing your hips down, both of them approach their own individual releases. gojo’s hands run everywhere on your body, you shudder from his touch whilst you feel geto’s hips piston itself forward. your toes grow limp as you’re finally becoming undone—gojo follows as they’re both driving the thickness of their cocks into your slick, needy entrances.

as your legs lie flat, the both of them end up finishing at the same time. it’s so much, you’re feeling yourself get dumped and it’s already starting to overflow. gojo’s filling you from the front and geto’s taking care of you from behind. “easy, rock against him like that, yeah,” he hushes you, easing his thumbs against your hips in tiny little circles to calm you down. it’s trickling into you in such a slow way, gooey velvety portions of cum oozing its way into your pussy. it’s loud too, squelch after squelch reverberating throughout the entire room that it develops its own vibrato..

“touch her, ‘toru,” geto continues, latching his tongue against the miniature bite marks that press near your neck. the popstar was worn out despite it being just a few minutes. with heaving pants departing from his lips, he brings his hands to feel against your waist, your breasts, and back down between your legs. “she did so good for us,” and he kissed the top of your head, speaking in a rasp. “gonna perform with all this this cum stuffed inside, baby?”

“y- yeah,” you whine, feeling geto abruptly pull out to where you’re just bestriding gojo now. you take a quick glance down and your panties weren’t there anymore. you sigh, you really liked those. back to gojo—his dick that was still twitching inside of you grows flaccid and he whimpers at the faint jittery motion of your hips. “fuck, we don’t have to perform. can’t satoru just cancel the show?”

“and get dragged on twitter? heh, girl no..” gojo swipes a hand across his forehead as he’s still spilling such amounts inside of you. it’s a mess, the once flashy white sofa was all ruined with nothing but a salacious mixture of soaked liquids.

speaking of though,

as gojo’s catching his final breaths with you still hovering over him, he pulls out his phone. his sheepish smile turns into a look of horror once he opens tmz. skimming his eyes against the blue-lit screen, his lip tremors as he reads the bold red and black text. “famous popstar satoru gojo, bassist suguru geto and new opening singer heard screwing … backstage?”

geto deadpans and you furrow your eyebrows, getting off of him. “how?”

“idiot still has his fuckin’ mic on.”

gojo’s eyes widen as he stares in his peripherals at his mic. not again, and indeed it was very much on and operated. you could hear the echo grow louder from the arena just a few feet down now that it was against his lips. then it hits you, the ongoing chants from outside weren’t happening anymore. now, it was just pure booing. he uses two fingers to bring his mic up to the side of his mouth before switching it to autotune. “oops. no refunds….?”

[inklore]

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good. 

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses. 

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another. 

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach. 

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days. 

A girl can dream. 

And she has. Embarrassingly. 

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God. 

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity. 

Gratefulness. 

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you? 

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings. 

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel. 

He was always there. 

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time. 

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before. 

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks. 

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over. 

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped." 

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone." 

"Hey! I could punch someone." 

"Could and would are two different things." 

"You sayin I couldn’t?" 

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t." 

"Not tough enough?" 

"Your heart's too big." 

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured." 

"I’m shaking in my boots." 

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn.  On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?" 

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch." 

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?" 

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel." 

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?" 

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out. 

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red. 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully. 

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts. 

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll. 

"Don’t alert the press." 

"Oh, they’ve already been informed." 

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky. 

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting. 

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink. 

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight." 

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him. 

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin. 

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money." 

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be. 

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say. 

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had. 

Joel Miller was a good man. 

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know. 

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma. 

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind. 

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good." 

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle. 

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke. 

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks. 

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now. 

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?" 

"A what—pity kiss?" 

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?" 

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?" 

"Exactly." 

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. 

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate. 

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement. 

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks. 

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his. 

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders. 

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one. 

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him. 

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you. 

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl. 

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers. 

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now. 

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can. 

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth. 

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs. 

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence. 

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked. 

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?" 

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."  There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken. 

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up. 

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes. 

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging. 

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth. 

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center. 

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection. 

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you." 

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are." 

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises. 

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag. 

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back. 

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight. 

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel. 

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock. 

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after. 

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though." 

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully. 

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

[bedoballoons]

Something got into me.

Modern au!Genshin boys(up to you) hooking up w their s/o in a ferris wheel fem! reader maybe

Oh god

-💤

Oooooo, I gotta admit wouldn't be my place of choice I'm not the biggest fan of heights >///< but I can't wait to write it for you! I hope you enjoy and you like the characters I picked~

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Circus fun~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Modern AU! Heated make outs, semi public, f!reader, blowjobs, handjobs, hair pulling, fingering, riding, grinding, and just overall a fun time on the Ferris wheel (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour, my love, Heizou: Good girl, Wanderer: Kitten)

(Includes: Lyney, Xiao, Heizou, and Wanderer!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney groaned quietly into your ear, his warm breath caressing the shell of it while he held you tightly, the cart you were in swaying with every grind of your clothed heat against his bulge. This was incredibly risky, you didn't have alot of time before the ride was over and anyone could see you from the top of it, but you'd somehow gotten the ferris wheel all to yourselves and you both had been so flirty all day...

"L-lyney~" You moaned into the crook of his neck, his fingers slipping past the waste band of your pants and down into your undies, where you were more than just a little wet for him, "Mmmm mon amour, so turned on for me aren't you~" His voice was coated with lust, sending a shiver down your spine as you attempted to answer him, "Y-yes, please h-hurry~"

He chuckled, sinking his fingers into your entrance and starting off faster than he normally would, spreading his digits inside of you with ever pump of his hand, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers while staring up at you with glazed over eyes, "Y-you're so beautiful mon amour~" You gasped loudly, trying so hard to keep yourself quiet as your walls clenched around him, "Mnngh, hhh-hh~"

"You're going to have to f-finish for me soon my love~" You heard him, but you couldn't dare respond, your thoughts solely focused on chasing your release. He sunk his digits deeper into your wet cunt and you almost screamed out loud when they hit the most perfect spot, body shaking as you came.

You didn't even notice the ride had ended, you were entirely focused on how he licked up your wetness from his fingers with a smirk and that all to knowing gleam in his eyes. He definitely wasn't done yet...

𑁍༄Xiao:

As soon as the cart stopped at the top of the ferris wheel Xiaos lips crashed into yours, hands hurrying to pull you into his lap...he didn't know why but he was so impatient, your body was calling to him and the idea of only having a short time was more than appealing. His tongue slipped into your mouth, fighting yours for dominance as he groaned in delight and silently swore to himself he'd do this more often.

You on the other hand could barely keep up, the tent in his pants that was right between your legs...making you feel hot all over and lack of air from his never ending kiss making your heart race with excitement. You pulled away to catch a breath, but he was quick to go to your neck instead biting down are your skin and leaving delicious marks like he did to show others you were his.

"X-xiao~" You whispered his name in between soft gasps and he couldn't contains himself, his tent rubbing against your clothed heat as wetness seeped through your thin clothes onto his pants, "God you know I love it w-when you say my name~"

"M-make it say it louder~"

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou chuckled softly, watching you maneuver yourself between his legs despite the restrictions of the tiny cart, honestly he couldn't believe you'd offered to do this at all, given the fact it was in public and very time sensitive...but he was more than grateful, after all he'd been thinking of your pretty little mouth on him all day~

"Remember darling, you gotta be fast with this. Don't want anyone finding out what we are up to now do we~" He kissed the top of your head, seeing the delightful blush creep onto your cheeks as you nodded, shaking hands undoing his pants zipper and carefully releasing his dick from its prison. You looked up at him as you kissed the tip, letting your tongue graze it slowly while he moaned rather loudly, you almost told him to stay quiet...but you were so high up, perhaps no one could hear anyways.

You took him into your hot mouth, sucking as hard as you could while your hand pleased the rest of his length, you could taste his precum on your tongue and hear his struggled groans ringing in your ears. You loved pleasing him, especially when his hands found their way into your hair, pushing his cock farther into your mouth until it was hitting the back of your throat.

You hummed happily, the vibrations alone making him quietly curse in ectasy, "That's my g-good girl, keep going, j-just- like that, mmm~"

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer groaned deeply into the crook of your neck, his fingernails digging into your hips as he thrusted up into your wet pussy that clenched around him so perfectly, he couldn't care less if someone caught what you were up to, all he wanted right now was to see you lust drunk face and your cum around his cock. "M-mmnh, look at you kitten, so desperate that you begged to do this h-here of all places, how dirty~"

You moaned loudly, eyes opening for a split to scan the ground below and make sure no one had heard, but Wanderer had other plans, his length roughly bucking into you so hard the stars in the sky above you disappeared, head thrown back as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Pay attention to m-me kitten, I don't give a fuck who sees us~"

You couldn't catch your breath to respond, air knocked out of you as you came around him, your walls tightening around his dick so perfectly that as he road out your high he came too, filling you as the ride started back up again. "W-way to c-c-close."

"So much f-fun though kitten.."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Happy kinktober~*⁠.⁠✧

[bangtanintotheroom]

Plug & Play (M)

• Pairing: Guitarist!Hongjoong x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Rock Band!AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 10.3k

• Summary: Tonight is the night that you quit being a bystander and make a move towards the guitarist on stage with the devilish smile.

• Warnings/themes: a rock show!, swearing, drinking, pining, Y/N is a horny bean, Hongjoong and his dangerous smiles 🫠, Yeosang the wingman, flirting, making out, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), mentions of oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, fingering, fingers in mouth, finger sucking, protected sex (be responsible!), clothed sex, multiple orgasms

• Notes: SHE’S HEEEEERE 🗣️ the manifestation of my new love for yet another leader hehehehe 😚 I don't have much to say other than thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for doing a look-over, everyone enjoy and think of blond, rockstar HJ the whole time!

• Taglist: @loveateez @mellikestoread @itza-meee @roomsofangel @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @kiestrokes

“I’m gonna fuck him.”

Yeosang stared at you from behind the counter, wondering if he heard you right amidst the clinking glasses and rock music.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m gonna fuck him, Yeo.”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes, rotating ninety degrees to point at the object of your desire on the stage.

“Him.”

There was little surprise on your end at the scoff you heard from behind.

“You’re still on that mission?”

Your head whipped around incredulously. “Yes! Why are you shocked by this?”

Yeosang’s expression reeked of indifference as he wiped some bottles down.

“Because I thought you would have given up by now.”

“I don’t give up easily, dude—” Your eyes watched as that certain someone tuned their guitar strings. “—especially when I really want something.”

And you really wanted the man you had in your sights.

Your roommate Yeosang worked as a bartender at a small yet intimate venue where many up-and-coming bands liked to perform, in hopes of recognition. He invited you to visit one night, knowing you loved to get a peek at new music. You couldn’t refuse the offer, especially when he snuck you a couple of free drink vouchers.

When you had come by the first night, you were surprised at the amount of people hanging both outside and inside the building. The couple of times you had stopped by previously to drop something off, only half of the room was filled. But this time had attendees hugging the wall and the bar counter, shoulder to shoulder.

Once you managed to reach Yeosang, you waited until he wasn’t scurrying with shot glasses to ask if there was a special occasion. He answered mid-pour and said one of the local bands was playing soon and their loyal fans flocked in when they got word. Leaving him to his work, you melded into the crowd, studying what the demographic was.

The ratio of women to men was in favor of the former, making you wonder just what kind of group was performing tonight.

You got your answer when the lights went down and screams erupted around you, nearly rupturing your poor eardrums. But when the lights came back on, you could see why.

Five insanely gorgeous men were spread across the stage, each with an instrument in their hands.

They all had their own aura, represented by their outfits and the expressions on their faces. Although, there was one in particular that caught your attention.

The one holding a shiny black guitar like it was his child.

His platinum blond hair caught your eye before you took in the rest of him. You liked how the sharp angles of his face had areas of softness that could disarm even the coldest of people. His outfit was flattering and a good balance of comfortable yet showy. But his smile was what nearly knocked you off your feet.

The way his white teeth would often flash while he strummed his instrument had a grin coming up on your own face. You could see that he was someone who cherished his craft by the way he’d keep up with the other members’ pace. And he would never stay in one place; you’d often catch him jumping around on the stage, from standing next to the drummer to nearly teetering on the edge in front of fans.

Plus, he was just adorable. But the cuteness would go into its hiding place at times, leaving a man that began altering your brain chemistry.

Too many times did you find your breath hitching whenever he’d throw his head back, mouth agape as he got into the music, fixated on the drops of sweat rolling down his neck. Or whenever he’d lower his head, looking up into the crowd with the wickedest of smirks that had you fantasizing about a certain position that would grant that view as well.

Before your mind could fully catch up on whatever was happening in front of your eyes, cheers erupted around you. You blinked into reality and watched as the band waved and thanked everyone for attending tonight before making their way off the stage. You were jostled into moving when an attendee bumped your shoulder, shooting an apology to your still form.

Desperately needing to decompress, you ran to the bar to catch Yeosang as he finished making a tray of shots. He could tell by the look on your face that he made a good choice in inviting you out before your mouth began running a mile a minute. You didn’t care if he wasn’t able to hear half of your ramblings, running to continue doing his job as a sudden wave of people came by.

Your excitement had to get out of your system somehow.

But it turns out even that wasn’t enough.

You would keep thinking about the handsome guitarist on a day to day basis, at the most inopportune moments. It didn’t help that you would look up the band’s music online and listen during your commutes and free time. They legitimately made good tunes, playing to their strengths and composing lyrics that wouldn’t escape your head.

Lyrics that were joined by the constant flashing of a devious smile.

And so you found yourself returning to the venue for their next show. To say Yeosang was stunned by your surprise appearance was an understatement. You managed to shrug it off and say that you were starting to become a budding fan of Halazia.

It was technically the truth. He didn’t need to know about your other reason…yet.

With this visit, you were hoping you’d catch the blond doing something that would kill your interest or that your eye would wander onto some of his bandmates instead.

You realized by the end of the performance that it was futile.

Not even the drummer going shirtless halfway through to show off his well-muscled physique could completely distract you from the fully clothed one wailing on his guitar. Trudging out of the building with two cocktails down had you realizing how doomed you were.

When your titillating thoughts started forming into full-blown fantasies, you had to come up with a solid way to get them to disappear. At first, you hoped your hand and a few explicit videos would be enough, but even that got old after a while.

Which led to your current objective as you watched the band continue to set up for the night.

It might be a pipe dream, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried, right?

Yeosang thought it was ridiculous, but never said it was impossible or a bad idea. He begrudgingly supported you from the sidelines, even if he called you crazy at times. A true friend, through and through.

“Oh, don’t I know it. You kept hounding me for weeks to help you put your bookshelf up.”

“And you did such a fantastic job! Shit would have fallen apart if I did it myself.”

Yeosang shook his head at your flattery, yet the tiniest of smiles tugged at his mouth. “Uh huh.”

Giggling, you picked up your glass and finished off the last sip. After you set it down, you sensed a person coming up to stand next to you.

“Yeosang!”

The bartender grinned at them. “Yunho! Amazing job, as always.”

“Ah, stop, you say that every time. Do you mind if I put in an order?”

“Not at all. What would you like?”

Curiosity got the best of you and you looked up to see what this Yunho looked like. Imagine your surprise when you saw the bassist of Halazia standing next to you. Damn, he was tall.

“Two rounds of shots and eight beers, please.”

Yeosang lifted his brow in that fashion of his before replying, “Eight? Not ten?”

Yunho sighed and shrugged. “Seonghwa is feeling fussy tonight and San needs to be able to walk home.”

“Makes sense. Alright, give me a few minutes.”

“Thank you!”

Yunho seemed to notice you watching the conversation now, giving you a polite smile before heading back to his table. Your eyes followed him until he sat down, switching targets to take in the blond man with a megawatt smile next to him. Just watching as he threw his head back and laughed had your heart pumping faster.

You couldn’t hold off any longer. You had to do something tonight.

Your mind began coming up with a plan on how to approach while you turned back around, watching as Yeosang began putting together the drinks.

“Damn, big order.”

“Tell me about it. They must be parched after their performance.”

You studied the two trays as he started filling it with shot glasses and beer bottles, knowing that he’d have to make two trips to get everything there.

…or just one trip, if he had an extra set of hands.

You could see the lightbulb start to flicker on now. A simple yet effective plan to get within speaking distance of the man who had been plaguing your thoughts for the last couple of weeks came to fruition. You committed to your decision just as the bartender finished up the order.

Okay. Showtime.

“Hey Yeo—” Your roommate paused as he was reaching for one of the full drink trays. “—need some help there?”

Yeosang blinked owlishly at your offer.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, Y/N. It wouldn’t be good if you dropped these.”

“Hey now, I used to be a waitress, remember? Come on, it’ll save you some time.”

You watched as he pondered for a moment, grinning in triumph when he nodded.

“Alright, grab one and let’s go.”

A salute was given as you hopped off your stool, carefully reaching for one of the trays and lifting it above your shoulder. Muscle memory took over as you balanced it, waiting until Yeosang came out from behind the counter and led the way. You made sure to not run into anyone and kept an eye out for any sudden surprises, thankful when you reached the table in one piece.

And even more thankful at one of the pairs of eyes that landed on you.

“Our savior!”

The one man you recognized as the lead singer rejoiced as you and Yeosang set the trays down on the table, bringing a giggle out of you.

“Jongho, I didn’t hear water in Yunho’s order…”

Yeosang’s playfully stern tone made Jongho wave a hand in the air. “Water, shmater, we’re big boys! We can hold our drinks!”

“We can, not this one, though.”

The next one that piped up was the unusually beautiful man you saw strumming away at his rhythm guitar, pointing to the pouting drummer who now wore a white tee.

“Hyung, don’t call me out like that!”

“San, we had to carry you out the last time, we’re not looking for a repeat.”

Your focus was now on the object of your desires as he gave San a strict yet concerned look, the expression only making him look even better.

“You won’t, that’s why I passed on the beer!”

The guitarist made an unconvinced sound. “We shall see.”

Yeosang chuckled and interjected, “I’ll bring some water over, just to be safe. Sound good, Hongjoong?”

Now you learned that the man you had been eyeing up was Hongjoong, trying not to stare too hard as he grinned at your friend.

“Definitely.”

He caught you off-guard by shooting you a smile now.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Your reaction was delayed, but you managed to give a nod, forcing yourself to follow Yeosang as he headed back to the bar. Only then did you realize you were holding a breath in, exhaling as you leaned on the counter.

“Fuck.”

“I thought you were going to hop on his lap for a moment.”

You shot a scowl at Yeosang as he worked on getting the water together.

“Yeo, I’m not that shameless. I was just…taken aback.”

He looked up to give you an unconvinced stare, paired with a lifted brow.

“Sure, let’s call it that.”

He looked back down in time to miss the middle finger you shot. While he continued, you started reining yourself in from the very brief encounter.

You learned two things; Hongjoong was his name and he was even more handsome up close. Stage lights weren’t over exaggerating his sharp features, his nose and jaw looking like they’d be able to cut glass. His grin was blinding and the teeth beneath them were damn near perfect.

Although, you wished you had mustered enough courage to say something to him.

It would be somewhat awkward to go back empty-handed and start a conversation with him, especially with his bandmates right there. Just because you wanted to get in his pants didn’t mean you wanted to come off as nothing but a groupie to them.

“Here.”

Your thinking was interrupted when two full pitchers of water were placed in front of you, prompting you to look at Yeosang with bewilderment.

“Maybe this time you can actually talk to the guy.”

His suggestion finally clicked, your eyes widening in gratitude.

“I fucking love you, Yeosang.”

He smiled and shook his head, giving one of your hands a pat. “You can tell me through your teriyaki chicken, Y/N. Go on.”

With a megawatt grin and a mental note to pick up some chicken to cook tomorrow, you lifted both pitchers before turning to make your way back to the table. You had to make sure your hands didn’t shake the closer you got, not wanting to spill water on any of the guys.

As soon as you were close enough, you cleared your throat to capture their attention.

“Your water, gentlemen.”

Setting the refreshments down brought a small wave of cheers.

“Thank you! Maybe we can get San out of here in one piece tonight.”

“Aish, stop!” San batted at Jongho’s head, the vocalist dodging as he snickered.

You grinned at the two’s antics, straightening up when you realized something.

“Oh, I should get you guys some glasses. I’ll be right back.”

You quickly turned around and power walked to the bar, asking Yeosang for a small stack of drinking glasses before returning.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Are you new here?”

Your head shook at Seonghwa’s question. “No, I don’t even work here. Just helping my friend out while he gets slammed with customers.”

The pretty guitarist smiled softly.

“That’s very nice of you.”

Your cheeks couldn’t help but warm a tiny bit, shooting him the same look. “Thank you. He has to listen to enough of my ranting at home, might as well ease his pain somehow.”

Yunho blinked curiously before asking, “You’re roommates?”

“Mhm.”

He made a sound of understanding, yet another voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Thought you looked familiar.”

You focused your sight on Hongjoong, recognition on his attractive face that had your heart beating a little faster.

“Me?”

“Yeah—” His mouth quirked. “—thought I saw you hanging around Yeosang the last few times we were here.”

Oof. You weren’t sure how to react to him basically saying that he recognized you from afar. It wasn’t a bad thing, at all, considering your end goal, but you were surprised he even remembered with the amount of people in this building.

All you could muster was a scratch of the back of your neck, trying not to fluster further under his gaze.

“Haha, that’s me, always bugging him.”

Hongjoong gave a soft laugh, eyes scrunching in humor. It only made you more bashful, trying your best not to rub the toe of your boot into the ground.

Noticing that Yunho was roped into a conversation with the others now, it left you alone with the lead guitarist.

A window of opportunity!

But for some reason, you couldn’t muster the words to continue speaking with him. Even though he continued to acknowledge you with his gaze, your eyes averted to watch the stage behind the dining tables.

“Hey.”

Your ears perked up, looking down to see Hongjoong eyeing you with curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

A lifesaver.

You had to hold back the large grin you wanted to give, settling for a polite smile instead.

“Y/N.”

He returned your expression, nodding before replying, “Nice to meet you, I’m Hongjoong. Actually, you probably already knew that.”

With a little more confidence, you replied, “I actually didn’t. I’m pretty bad with names, plus I was too distracted by your performances to really focus on that.”

Hongjoong lifted a bleached brow, cocking his head.

“Oh yeah? You like us that much?”

You nodded with little shame. “Absolutely. I’m surprised you guys aren’t a household name by now.”

Hongjoong grinned, although it was paired with a slight flush of his cheeks.

“Stop, we’re not that good.”

“But you are! Look, I’ve been seeing local bands since I was a teen and I can say you guys are one of the best.”

Something a bit sobering slithered in his eyes as he stared you down, lips straight as a line.

“No bullshit?”

Now you managed to keep the gaze steady.

“None whatsoever.”

It was another few seconds before he finally took your compliment, appreciation written all over his face now.

“Thank you, Y/N. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course! I wish I knew about your music earlier—” You frowned. “—I’ve only seen you guys play a couple of times.”

Hongjoong shrugged, saying with more positivity, “A couple is better than none.”

You could see he had a point so you nodded in agreement. But all of a sudden, you wondered if you were bothering him. He had just finished a harrowing performance; maybe he wanted to kick back and relax with his friends, not indulge you with conversation.

“Hongjoong?”

“Hm?”

This hurt to say, but—

“If you want me to give you some space, I can.”

The musician gave you a look that came off as bewildered. “I don’t mind. Unless you have somewhere to get to?”

A hand came up to wave in the air as you placated, “No, I don’t, but I’d hate to impose—”

“Looooving youuu~ Is easy ‘cause you’re beautiful~”

Out of nowhere, singing erupted, prompting both you and Hongjoong to look at the source of the sudden noise. What greeted you had you chuckling.

“Seems like the drinks are already starting to set in.”

The blond’s wisecrack had you raising a brow as you both took in Jongho holding San’s face as he crooned a love song to him and Yunho waving his hands to the beat while Seonghwa pulled his phone out to record the tender moment.

“I can see that.”

Hongjoong scoffed in amusement and shook his head.

“Every time.” He glanced aside for a moment before looking at you again. “Maybe we should move somewhere quieter.”

The suggestion made your heart skip, unaware of what the intentions were behind it.

“Oh?”

“Yeah—” His sudden beam erased any doubt you had. “—I can’t get to know you with all this noise here.”

You uttered a silent thanks to both Yeosang and whatever being resided in the sky for giving you this opportunity. You held back a bit as you grinned and said, “Lead the way.”

Hongjoong was quick to stand up, grabbing his two beer bottles before jerking his head towards the stage. With a quick glance to make sure his friends were still occupied, you began following him. He walked to the foot of the stage and sat his drinks down, using his hands to lift himself and sit on the ledge. You followed suit, taking care to make sure your skirt didn’t ride up, sitting as close as possible without getting in his personal space.

As soon as you were situated, a bottle turned up under your nose.

“Thirsty?”

You blinked at the offer. “You sure? It’s your beer.”

The blond shrugged, wiggling the brown glass a bit.

“My beer, but I’ll make it yours now.”

A chuckle came out as you accepted the drink, peeling off the half-open cap before taking a sip.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. So—” Hongjoong took a sip from his own bottle. “—are you a regular here?”

You shook your head.

“Surprisingly, no. I’ve been to almost every venue in town except for this one. Figured I’d give Yeo a rest from seeing me at home and work.”

Hongjoong snickered, lips curled in humor.

“Understandable. I’m guessing we were your first show here?”

“You were. Have you guys been playing here for a while?”

He hummed, looking up in thought before responding, “Kind of. This was our seventh performance here, but we’ve been playing at other places too. I’d have to say this is the best looking one, by far.”

“Let me guess—” Your mouth twisted up on one side. “—you’ve performed at Miroh?”

The way Hongjoong grimaced was enough of an answer for you.

“Sadly. Never again. Yunho almost got a bottle to the head because his amp was a little too loud.”

“Yikes.”

The two of you decided to move away from the topic of horrendous dive bars and to lighter ones, from behind the scenes knowledge about Halazia to what you did outside of going to concerts. You liked that Hongjoong had an equal part in the conversation continuing, not wanting to come off as desperate and scrambling for something else to talk about.

Not that you couldn’t find anything.

He was rather easy to talk to, paying close attention whenever you spoke and answering your questions with thoroughness. The way he would motion with his hands at certain points endeared him to you, smiling and giggling with admiration at his theatrics. It was also fun just to watch him, in general.

“So how do you like living with Yeosang?”

The subject change surprised you a bit, but you answered after finishing off your beer. “No complaints on my end. Well, except that he can be a space cadet at times.”

Hongjoong snickered over the lip of his bottle.

“Not surprised he’s still like that.”

Your ears perked at his statement, giving him a curious stare.

“Still?”

“Mhm. We used to live together, at one point.”

If you were in the middle of drinking, you would have had to hold back from choking or spitting in shock.

“Really?!”

Hongjoong nodded, lips stretched at your stunned reaction.

“He mentioned having a roommate before me, but I never would have dreamed that it’d be you.”

The musician shrugged and replied, “To be fair, I wasn’t around much. Spent most of my time at the studio or at work. I only moved out when Seonghwa got a spot open at his place.”

Following along with his explanation, you decided to be mischievous and question, “Was it that or did you drive poor Yeo crazy?”

Hongjoong feigned offense, a twinkle in his widened eyes as he leaned back.

“Y/N, are you accusing me of being a bad roommate?”

You couldn’t hold the urge to lightly tap your foot against his, smirking with impishness.

“And what if I am?”

Lifting a bleached brow, the guitarist leaned towards you, making your heart beat quicker with how close he got. Close enough for him to whisper, “Then I’d have to defend myself against that.”

Your eyes remained locked with his, jerking your chin lightly before challenging, “Go on, then.”

Hongjoong seemed pleased with your encouragement, setting his now empty bottle to the side as the gleam in his eye shone brighter.

“I was well-behaved. Kept the place clean, rotated chores, minded my own business. Yeosang almost didn’t want me to leave.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah—” He chuckled. “—gave me the biggest pout when I gave him the heads up. Made me feel like an asshole.”

Your eyes rolled with no hint of annoyance. “Sounds like Yeo. But I guess you really helped take care of the guy, huh?”

“I sure did.”

Hongjoong lightly knocked his knee into yours, but it remained pressed as he purred, “I like to take care of people close to me.”

Whatever wholesomeness that statement would have had was erased by his actions. You welcomed the touch, though. It merely boosted your confidence and will to step closer to your long-awaited goal.

You did your best not to overthink as you gently rubbed the side of your foot on his calf, lips twitching at the subtle shift in his expression.

“What about the people close to Yeosang? Would you take care of them too?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow ticked at your question.

“Of course.”

Play coy, Y/N.

“It would be nice if I was included too…”

After you trailed off, nothing was said. Only sounds from the rest of the bar came through, various conversations mixing with background music from the speakers. But you weren’t too focused on that right now.

No, you were hyper-focused on the way Hongjoong was watching you.

The way his eyes traveled down your face and over your form let you know that digging in your closet for this outfit was worth it. Everything only became sweeter with what he said next.

“Taking care of you would be a pleasure.”

The heat underneath his words took your interaction to the next level, bringing a light feeling to the base of your gut. Thinking about what ‘taking care of you’ would entail erased the last bit of caution you had.

“Then maybe you can help me with a problem I’ve been having.”

“Shoot.”

You laid one of your hands on his jean-covered thigh, faintly feeling the muscle underneath twitch.

“Ever since I started watching you guys perform, I’ve been wondering something.”

Hongjoong jerked his chin forward, prompting you to continue. Not wanting to take a chance at someone walking up and overhearing at the last minute, you leaned in closer, almost brushing your lips against his ear to breath out, “I keep thinking about what it would feel like to fuck you. Something about you caught my eye from the jump and I haven’t been able to shake the idea. But there’s only one way I can figure it out.”

Your head pulled back enough to get a clear view of Hongjoong’s now intrigued face, shooting the sugariest of smiles at him.

“Will you help me solve my problem?”

Even though it was becoming clear that the blond shared a mutual attraction, a part of you couldn’t help but prepare for rejection. But your fear was allayed when he presented you with a low chuckle, followed by a smirk that was rife with teeth.

“Of course, Y/N. Although—” Now he came close to whisper in your ear. “—I don’t think we’re gonna find out by sitting near all these people.”

The underlying sensuality in his voice brought a pleasant shiver down your spine. Were you actually about to sneak off with Halazia’s main guitarist to help satiate the improper fantasies you’ve been having about him?

Yes. Yes you fucking were.

“Then do you mind if we have some one on one time?”

The hand that reached for your own to take it into a firm grip let you know that you hit the jackpot.

“Not at all.”

You were sure the rest of the guys eventually noticed and picked up on what you two snuck off for, but you couldn’t care less about what they thought. Your wish was finally coming true.

Hongjoong led the way, clearly more familiar with backstage than you were. The two of you passed a handful of workers, the man in front of you giving them polite greetings and acknowledgments. It was nice to see that he wasn’t one of those snobby types of rockstars.

He stopped in front of a door with a sign that said ‘Reserved for Halazia’, going for the handle before turning it and pushing. His hand let go of yours, only to motion you in first with a smile. You gave one of your own and stepped into the room, looking around with curiosity. It was a typical dressing room, nothing too chaotic.

But the best part was that it was empty, perfect for what was about to go down.

“So…”

You turned around, hearing the door shut and lock before Hongjoong approached you, lips curled akin to someone ready to indulge in the sweetest dessert of their life.

“Is this a much better spot?”

Your mouth twisted in humor, nodding as you replied with delight, “Much better.”

“Good.”

The both of you looked into each other’s eyes, bodies thrumming with energy that was ready to be unleashed at any moment. Although, no one made a move for a moment.

That is, until Hongjoong chose to take a step forward, leaving the tiniest of spaces between you two.

Having him so close directly in front of you had even more of an effect than before, his fresh scent invading your nostrils while your heart pumped faster. It got worse when a hand came up to brush some hair behind your ear, his touch making you bite your lip.

Hongjoong noticed your shift and chuckled, “Nervous?”

You shook your head.

“No, just…excited.”

His grin only widened at your admission, sliding his hand down to gently cradle your jaw.

“Same. Didn’t think I’d ever get to be up close and personal with Yeosang’s pretty friend.”

Although you were melting inside at the compliment, your eyebrow raised in amazement.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So why didn’t you make a move first?”

You hoped to trip him up, but the guitarist didn’t seem fazed, straight teeth almost blinding you.

“I wanted to see how badly you wanted me.”

His low response brought a mixture of exasperation and lust to you, your eyes rolling as you huffed, “You rockstars and your egos.”

Hongjoong laughed at your quip before leaning in to plant his lips on yours, ironically making the first move into what was expected to go down in here. Not a second passed before you kissed back, upping the pace a bit. The two of you got lost in each other until he started walking forward, forcing you to step back to avoid having your toes crushed.

He managed to distract you with his skills as you suddenly felt something hard press against your spine. One of your hands went back to feel a smooth surface behind you, realizing that he had walked you towards one of the vanity tables.

A nip to your bottom lip made you focus on the bigger picture once more, answering back with a bite of your own. The groan that rumbled against you was nothing short of satisfying.

Hongjoong pulled apart to pant softly, “Nice to see you’re not shy.”

You brought a hand to the nape of his neck, absentmindedly playing with the short, blond strands as you queried, “You think I’d be back here with you if I was shy?”

He conceded with an amused ‘no’, allowing you to pull him back in for another kiss. The longer this went on, the warmer you were beginning to get. You skipped on a jacket tonight, leaving you with a thinner, long-sleeved shirt on top, but the leather skirt below seemed to be the cause of your rising temperature.

Time for it to go.

You released Hongjoong’s neck and reached back to unzip your skirt, only to feel his hands take a hold of yours. Lips pulled away to give him a confused stare.

“Uh uh—“ He released you before grabbing onto the hem and pushing it up with a smirk. “—the skirt stays on.”

Well then. Whatever he wants, he gets.

You nodded, bringing your hands away from the garment as further approval. He pecked your lips in gratitude and went for the top of your stockings next, shimmying them down until your boots interrupted the journey. Humming at the inconvenience, he unzipped before sliding them off your feet and tossing them to the side. You didn’t even get a chance to wiggle your toes as he continued relieving you of your tights, letting them join your shoes.

The slightly cool air hit your now exposed legs, but the heat Hongjoong directed up at you next erased it.

“Sit on the table.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his command, bringing your hands behind to hoist yourself onto the vanity. The guitarist was quick to stand and slot himself between your spread legs, taking your mouth in another hungry kiss. Even though he was doing an excellent job occupying you with his tongue, you could feel his fingers run down your hips until he brushed the soft skin of your thighs. You enjoyed the sensations, lulling into a pleasant vibe until he traveled inwards and stroked a finger along the front of your panties.

You felt him hum before he released your lips, giving you one of his sharp smirks.

“I hope you haven’t been like this all night.”

A giggle left as you bucked your hips forward. “I plead the fifth.”

Hongjoong chuckled and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Poor baby. Lemme fix that for you.”

With lightning precision, his fingers dove up to grasp the elastic, tugging the damp fabric down until it was pulled off and tossed to join its friends. The air hitting that area only exacerbated just how wet you were, thanks to the man in front of you. Although, he was swift in covering you with his hand, digits beginning to tease with confidence.

“Oh…”

The soft exclamation left when you felt him travel upwards and circle your swelling clit. He applied just the right amount of pressure to make a pleasant heat begin to form in your belly. Just when you were about to close your eyes in bliss, Hongjoong slid back down to play with your folds, the slickness allowing him to glide with ease.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. All this for me?”

Your reply meant to come out as words, but the way he spread you open made it turn into a positive hum. He chuckled at you, bringing his free hand up to rest a thumb on your swollen lips.

“You like how I’m playing with this little pussy of yours?”

“Yes—”

Hongjoong began stroking his thumb over your mouth, choosing to match the rhythm with the one between your legs, making your eyelids flutter.

“Is this what you thought about every time you watched me play?”

You breathed out, “I don’t know if I should say yes. Your rockstar ego might over-inflate.”

Hongjoong laughed, little offense in his tone. “I wouldn’t mind the push.”

You played as if you were mulling over a decision, trying not to crack the facade at the mild pout on his lips. Just when he was about to ask, you directed a smirk at him.

“This is tame compared to what’s been running through my head.”

Now you captured his entire attention, eyes burning with curiosity.

“Oh yeah? Indulge me.”

This time, you didn’t want to hold back, nonchalance coloring your face as you looked dead into his eyes.

“I’ve thought about how your fingers would feel inside me.”

The image of his digits flying across the fret of his guitar only emphasized your current pleasure, spurring you on.

“Wondered if they’d play me as well as you play your guitar.”

A low hum came from Hongjoong at your words, dark eyes twinkling with sensuality.

“I think I’m answering your question right now, no?”

A sudden strum to your quivering bud followed, making your hips jerk.

“You are—“ It took a second to find your breath. “—but I still have a couple more.”

“Oh?”

It was a struggle to speak past the moans building in your throat as he continued, but you powered through.

“Thought your head would look nice between my legs.”

You wouldn’t call yourself timid at all, but even this was a new level for you. To be so blunt with someone who you had only known for a short time was crazy. But the spark lighting up on Hongjoong’s face took away whatever shock you had at yourself.

“Is that so?”

Your nod brought the most salacious smirk from him. He moved his hands away from your body, disappointment at not having his touch anymore hitting you. But he was quick to bring up your spirits, placing them on your knees before spreading them further. He then dropped down to the floor, gaze still steady as he raised a brow.

“Like this?”

Your pulse spiked at the sight. It was a nice start, but it wasn’t quite there yet.

“Come closer.”

Hongjoong obliged, cheeks nearly brushing your inner thighs now.

“How about now?”

Much better.

“Perfect.”

The guitarist chuckled, blinding you with his smile.

“Good. Now you can sleep at night.”

A mix of a scoff and a giggle escaped, leaning down to give his forehead a gentle poke.

“Thank you for your services.”

“Any time, baby. Although…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes lowered, looking directly at your exposed cunt. “While I’m already down here—”

You had little chance to prepare as he darted forward and ran his tongue over the entirety of you, ripping a hitched gasp from your throat.

Shit.

Clearly the one lick wasn’t enough for Hongjoong, going back in with a few more that had your head tipping back against the mirror. Soft pants left you, morphing into stronger moans when he directed attention onto your clit. You could feel vibrations from him at times, feeling pleased to know that he was enjoying this as well.

“Fuck, Hongjoong—”

He pulled off, lips glistening as he husked, “You taste fucking amazing, baby. Gonna make sure I get my fill tonight.”

Your lower body bucked at his words, shifting forward until your ass nearly went over the edge of the table. The blond shot you a grateful look for giving him more access, hands sliding up your trembling thighs to take a firm hold of your hips before continuing his actions.

You were trying your best to keep your eyes on him the entire time, but he was too damn good.

Certain moves would make you throw your head back, whining as Hongjoong worked you up with his mouth. You got frustrated at one point when your skirt partially obscured his handsome face. A grunt left your lips before you reached down and tugged the offending fabric up even higher, giving you a clearer view of him eating your pussy.

Watching him had you transfixed, seeing his eyes closed for a good moment as he indulged in you. Though they would open up soon, focusing on you with a heat and precision that you’d only see a fraction of while he was on stage. You weren’t uncomfortable with the stare at all.

It turned you on beyond all belief.

Your fingers tangled into his short, blond strands, feeling the slight perspiration on his scalp. Whether it was leftover from the show or because of the current situation, you didn’t know. You gave the lightest of pulls, subtly asking for more.

Hongjoong raised a brow before moving his mouth away, just a few centimeters. He then went and stuck his tongue out, running the flat of it from the bottom of your slit up until he reached your clit, giving it a harsh flick.

“Oh fuck—“

A short chuckle washed over your area before he did the move again. And again. And again.

“You’re gonna kill me, swear to God.”

The musician giggled at your claim, eyes and nose scrunching with humor.

“You’ll live. But in case you don’t—“ You felt something prodding your entrance, looking down to see one of his fingers there. “—I need to see how good this pussy feels first.”

Hongjoong began sliding it in, your grip on your skirt tightening as he stretched you out a bit. He was quick to start thrusting, pausing at one point to curl and search for that sweet spot inside. When you felt him brush against it, you squeezed around his finger, bringing a triumphant smirk to his face.

“Right there, baby?”

“Right there—!”

He paired his cooing with a solid pump into the area, ruining whatever composure you had. There was no mercy as he kept on with the movements, making you squirm on his digit as a ball of pleasure started to form in your gut. Unable to take anymore of his teasing, you pulled his head closer again before pleading, “Keep eating my pussy, please.”

Hongjoong had no qualms about your begging, groaning lowly before diving back in.

The dual sensations of his mouth and finger working together pushed you higher and higher towards a precipice. Your own lips were babbling praises and noises to let him know how fucking good he was at this. He never pulled off to banter like before, laser-focused on your pleasure. All you received were his sharp brown eyes, watching you like a hawk.

Just when you felt yourself getting close, you tugged at Hongjoong’s hair. He pulled off, albeit reluctantly, shooting you a questioning stare. You gave a wobbly grin, bringing him back in until his wet lips were level with your pulsating nub.

“I come easier this way.”

Thankful for your advice, the guitarist winked before giving his undivided attention there. As you expected, your high raced towards you in no time, showing itself as you cried out and clamped down on his still thrusting finger. Your entire body trembled while he continued to roll his tongue over you, hand letting go of his hair at some point so as to not pull any strands out by accident.

Finally, the tremors stopped, making you slump against the mirror like a limp noodle. Your eyes couldn’t help but shut, feeling more tired than content thanks to the good orgasm.

A good orgasm at the hands (and mouth) of Hongjoong.

“You still alive up there?”

The teasing made your eyes open, shooting a deadpan expression down at his beaming face.

“Nope. Died and went to heaven. Murderer.”

Hongjoong cackled at your quip, standing up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll send my condolences to Yeosang.”

Now you laughed, reaching for the lapels of his star-printed jacket to tug him in for a deep kiss. Your tongue was quick in meeting up with his, tasting the lingering of your arousal. The longer your lips were locked, the faster your desire returned, wanting to take this even further. You needed to see how his cock would feel inside you, fucking you until your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Hongjoong removed his lips to catch his breath, hot puffs of air washing over your swollen ones before he husked, “Satisfied?”

You knew your answer right away.

“Would you be mad if I said no?”

The guitarist’s head shook. “I was hoping you would say that—” He took the chance to come closer, pressing his concealed cock into your bare thigh. “—didn’t want to let you out of here just yet.”

Your mouth twisted into a delighted smirk, pleased at the mutual feeling.

“Good, because I also thought about how it would feel if you fucked me.”

Now that you threw your final thought out into the open, the goalpost looked clearer than ever. Especially when Hongjoong presented you with the slyest grin you had ever seen on him. The ones he would give on stage paled in comparison to this.

“Is that right?”

When you nodded, his hand came up to hold your chin. A thumb tapped against it as he purred, “The feeling’s mutual.”

A peck landed on your lips before Hongjoong stepped away to head to the opposite side of the room where a few duffel bags laid. He began rummaging in one of them, standing once he found whatever he was looking for. That something was revealed to be a condom when he turned around. You were glad he wasn’t averse to protection; as horny as you were for him, your safety came first.

But just as he was about to make his way back, a few knocks came from the door.

Your expressions matched with irritation as you both frowned at the interruption. Hongjoong gave you an apologetic look before calling out, “Yes?”

“Hyung, it’s me!”

Because you were further from the muffled voice, you couldn’t decipher who was there until the guitarist swore quietly.

“Jongho, I’m in the middle of something right now.”

“I know, but I really need something from inside! Can you just grab it for me, please?”

Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as he seemed to debate on telling his bandmate to either leave or give him a moment. He went with the latter as he stomped over to the door, unlocking and opening it enough to poke his head out and avoid Jongho witnessing you in your partially-undressed state.

“What do you need?”

“Hyung, I need some condoms.”

“Why didn’t you pick them up when we were in here earlier?”

You could picture the vocalist shrugging, wide eyes adding to his defensive expression.

“I didn’t think I needed them! But Lia sent me a message a few minutes ago and she lives right down the road, so…”

You heard Hongjoong sigh before telling him to wait one second. He shut the door, turning and mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’, to which you waved him off with little bother. A momentary interruption was better than losing your entire chance.

He ran back to his bag to grab a handful of the foil packets before jogging back to the door, opening it and stretching his arm out.

“Here. Now can you promise you or the others won’t bother me until I come back?”

“Of course, captain! Have fun!”

Hongjoong shook his head at his bandmate’s well wishes, but saw him off with a chuckle and a humored goodbye before shutting and locking the door once more. With a swiftness, he turned and ran back over to you, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

Hongjoong looked grateful for your nonchalance, setting the condom down next to you before shucking his jacket off and tossing it to the side. Your eyes couldn’t hold back from raking over the skin now exposed, toned arms and shoulders causing your mouth to water. Just as you peeped the ink scrawled on one of his inner biceps, he started undoing his pants, bringing your attention to something even more interesting as he lowered them.

He caught your stare, smirking at how little modesty you had before reaching for the foiled wrapper. His hands were steady yet swift as he opened and slid the protection onto his stiff dick. As soon as he finished, Hongjoong grabbed your hips, tugging you down just enough to rest his tip against the apex of your thigh.

“Ready for me, beautiful?”

With little apprehension, you reached between your bodies to take a hold of him, lining up with your weeping entrance before giving him a confident nod. As soon as he earned your approval, the musician shifted forward, parting your folds until he started spreading you open. Both of your breaths hitched at the sensation, feeling his ringed fingers dig further into your hips.

“You’re just swallowing me up—“

Hongjoong’s gritted growl made your walls pulsate around his cock for a moment, proving his observation correct. Once he got in as far as you were pleased with, you took a hold of his waist before husking, “Fuck me already.”

A sharp inhale was all you got as you felt him slightly pull out before entering at a quicker pace. The rhythm built up soon enough, giving you the friction you oh so desired.

You were finally getting your wish.

Hongjoong was no slouch in this department, delivering strokes that were the right balance between gratifying and not quite enough. Perfect to have you whining for more a few minutes in.

“Hongjoong, give it to me—”

“Mm? Want me to fuck you harder, baby?”

The hold you had on his shirt tightened.

“Please.”

The chuckle you received had a thrill running down your spine, only to be replaced with a sharper sting as soon as he started plunging into you harder.

“So generous, letting me fuck this pussy how I really want to—”

Between the elevated pleasure and the way he hissed out his words, you were living the dream. You tried to fire back with your own quips, but couldn’t keep up with the way the blond was doing you and staring you down with those dark eyes of his. All you could do to let him know how good you were feeling was to tug him into messy kisses and rubs of your hands along his clothed torso. It seemed to be enough for him, judging by the groans you’d hear or feel.

At one point, Hongjoong pulled away from your lips, his own bearing hints of your smudged lipstick. Your fixation on his appearance was interrupted when he boldly stated, “Wish I could’ve been more thorough about this.”

Your head tilted as you asked, “What do you mean?”

His mouth twisted as if you made a joke, pausing his hips to make sure you focused on what he was about to say.

“I mean, I would’ve liked to do this somewhere a little more private. Because it’s a shame I can’t see all of you right now.”

His admission made your pussy flutter around him, watching as he looked over your still-covered body with heavy and curious eyes.

“Wouldn’t mind having more time to see what else is running through this pretty head of yours.”

He wanted to know what else you would have done with him, huh? There was one little act that you both skipped over, for time’s sake.

“Actually…there’s one thing I forgot to mention.”

Hongjoong’s brow lifted as you took a hold of one of the hands on your body and brought it close to your swollen lips. Making sure to keep eye contact, you rested his index and middle finger on your bottom lip before purring, “I’ve thought about how nice it’d be to suck your dick.”

Before you could get a reaction, you slipped his digits into your mouth, starting to gently suck them as if you were actually carrying out your wish.

The variety of emotions that came over Hongjoong’s face only upped your confidence, bobbing your head carefully to really sell the act. Only then did he finally say something, husking, “Fuck, baby— I’m really missing out right now, huh?”

A wink was what you gave, followed by your tongue beginning to swirl around the appendages, eyes fluttering shut as you pictured a different scenario.

Hongjoong leaning against this very vanity table, pants and briefs pulled halfway down. Watching close as you sat on your knees and worked his cock over with your mouth. You could feel his hips tremble occasionally, surely holding back from the primal urge to fuck into your hot and wet cavern.

But just as you were getting deep into your fantasy, the fingers slipped out of your mouth. Your eyes flew open as you made a mild noise of surprise, only for them to widen at the hungry look on his sweat-beaded face. The same hand was quick to grab your jaw, Hongjoong leaning in so close that you could feel his harsh breath mingling with yours as he hissed, “Next time.”

He didn’t give you a second to process his foreboding words as he took your lips into a starving kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead laid on yours as his hips went up to a reckless pace, burying his cock so deep that your back arched at the sharp jolt of pleasure racing throughout your body. This gave him the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with bites and kisses, pausing at times to growl sheer filth into your ear.

Everything combined had your body giving in to Hongjoong completely, leaning back against the mirror as all sorts of sounds surrounded you.

The slight creaking of the vanity and the jostling of the bottles sitting on it.

The smacking of his damp skin against yours.

How the groans leaving him gradually became tinged with a hint of whining as time passed.

Deducing that he was getting close to his end, you took his hand and slid it between your hips to give him a hint that you needed some help. He was quick on the draw, pushing your hand up as he began circling and rubbing your swollen clit with a saliva-covered fingertip. This only made a long moan escape you, head throwing back as it didn’t take long to catch up with your partner.

“That’s it, baby— Gonna make this little pussy come all over my cock.”

Hongjoong’s thick declaration made your legs wrap tight around his waist and your hands grasp onto the damp skin of his bare shoulders, holding on as he continued transporting you towards your end. You could feel his thrusts become a bit off-centered, but they were still enough for you to enjoy, and more than enough to bring another orgasm.

You announced it through a strained cry of the guitarist’s name, digging your nails into him as you trembled between his tense body and the mirror. It only took a few strokes for Hongjoong to join, swearing through gritted teeth as he plunged into you as far as humanly possible, throbbing as he filled up the condom.

Once the euphoria stopped running through your veins, the urge to slump backwards came strong. You followed your body’s wish, letting out a sigh of fatigue and satisfaction. A soft chuckle sounded near your ear.

“Tell me about it.”

The tiniest of laughs escaped you before taking a moment to simply enjoy the peace in the room. After the two of you got your bearings, it was inevitable that you’d part ways and head home with your respective parties.

But for now, you’d enjoy the way Hongjoong silently hummed into the crook of your neck as you ran your fingers up and down his back.

Yeosang was polishing the last of the clean glasses and talking to San when you strolled up to the bar, a pep in your step.

“Hey guys!”

Your roommate looked up, scrutinizing your appearance with a knowing smirk.

“Well, look who finally returned.”

You waved him off, only to now hear San teasing, “I hope you didn’t wear him out too much.”

A light laugh came out as you grinned at the drummer.

“He’s still standing on two legs, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good, the guys and I decided that none of us should be carried out tonight.”

The two of you giggled before he stood up from his stool, stretching muscled arms into the air.

“I think we should start heading out as soon as hyung is put together, I’m sure the two of you are tired.”

Yeosang shrugged, although you could see the slight lidding of his eyes.

“Take your time, I still have to do an inventory count.”

San shook his head. “No no, you definitely need your rest, it’s been nonstop for you. I’ll go gather everyone.”

You were grateful for his insistence, knowing how stubborn Yeosang could get when it came to his job.

“Thank you, San.”

A soft smile was directed at you before the drummer went off to get all of his bandmates together. Now that the two of you were alone, you spun around and gave your friend a winning grin.

“Mission accomplished, Yeo. And it was so worth it.”

Yeosang flicked a brow up at your declaration while grabbing his tablet to take inventory.

“Please don’t give me details. I still have to work with the guy on a weekly basis.”

“I’m not, I’m not! Just letting you know that I got my wish and now you won’t have to hear your horny freak of a roommate lament on how badly she wants Hongjoong’s dick.”

He shot you an exasperated look, clearly not as enthused about the news as you figured he’d be.

“Excellent.”

Snickering, you gave it a rest, leaving him to his work so the two of you could go home ASAP. You turned to take in the venue, noting the janitor sweeping up the last bit of trash and the busboys wiping down the tables that were sticky with alcohol. A few minutes passed before you spotted Halazia, minus Jongho, emerging from backstage. The men wore varying expressions, but all seemed to have a hint of exhaustion as well.

Although, most of your attention was on one specific member.

Hongjoong looked to be the most energetic of the group, eyes alert and responses swift. You weren’t surprised, considering what the two of you went through recently. It might be a different story when he reached home, though.

After nodding at whatever Seonghwa said, his head turned, blinking as he caught you watching him. A blinding grin was quick to come on before he made a beeline your way, making your pulse quicken. But he stopped next to your sitting figure rather than stand in front of you, his gaze on Yeosang as he typed.

“Yeosang, we’re gonna head out now.”

The bartender looked up, only to refocus on his tablet after giving the other a nod. “Stay safe. Great job, as always.”

Hongjoong chuckled, scratching the back of his neck in slight bashfulness.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you saying that, man.”

“Well, you better. Before you guys get snatched up by some big record label and I’ll need to go through security to speak to you.”

You giggled at his quip, receiving Hongjoong’s eyes now. “He has a point. We might be demoted to fans at this rate.”

The blond’s mouth twisted into a smirk as he continued to look at you, saying, “Oh, I could never forget you guys.”

Thank goodness Yeosang wasn’t paying attention to the way you were being stared down by the man who had his hands all over you not long ago; he definitely would not have let you live it down.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Have a good night, Hongjoong, tell the others for me.”

“Will do, Yeosang.”

Hongjoong slipped his hand out of his jacket pocket before holding it towards you.

“Y/N.”

You blinked at the formal gesture from someone who was up in your guts, but brought your own hand up to allow his to take a firm grasp.

“A real pleasure meeting you. Well, officially, I mean.”

A short laugh left as you teased, “Likewise, Hongjoong. I guess we’ll see each other at your next show?”

He kept a hold of your palm as he flashed his perfect teeth and winked.

“Absolutely.”

You almost didn’t want to let go, but you allowed the musician to pull away. But then you felt something odd. Looking at your palm, you spotted a piece of paper, folded over and over until it was a tiny square. Thinking that Hongjoong left something by accident, you prepared to call out until he brought a finger up to his lips.

The motion quieted you when he glanced sideways at Yeosang before looking at the paper and then at your face. With that, he turned and headed towards his bandmates to exit the establishment, leaving you to stare down at your hand.

Whatever he left was meant for your eyes and your eyes only.

Curiosity took over as you carefully unfolded the note. You had to bite back a gasp at what was scrawled inside.

‘So we don’t have to wait for the next show to meet up’

xxx-xxxx

Fuck!

You almost slipped and swore out loud, but managed to hold it in. Peeking at your friend to make sure he was still occupied, you stared at Hongjoong’s neat writing, processing this new info.

He actually gave you his number! Was this how groupies felt? Or were you a step above them?

Either way, this was an unexpected development. It was luck that you were able to get close enough to Hongjoong to sleep with him, but to get this as well felt like a miracle.

“Hey.”

You swiftly brought the paper down to your lap as you peered up to see Yeosang, hands now free from the tablet.

“Are you ready to go?”

With a smile that might have been a little too enthusiastic, you nodded, slipping the note into your pocket.

“Absolutely.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[winwintea]

winwintea's super SEXY and COOL rec-list

author’s note ↬ i really need to start saving and liking half of the fics i read bc i end up not being able to find them again... a lot of these are smut (bc i am a whore sometimes) so mdni with those tagged with s!

last updated ↬ september 11th, 2024

𝐊𝐄𝐘 ↬

f — 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

a — 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

h — 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞/𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 

s— 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍/𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

𝖭𝖢𝖳 𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 by @sehunniepotwrites ↳ disneyland au | f | 11.9k words 

There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

perfection like literally. i love disney. so so so much.

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 by @yojeongin ↳ husband au | s | 19.5k words 

all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

toxic as hell... i didn't know what to think of myself after this. but it's extremely well written.

𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨 by @hazyhae ↳ plug + stoner au | a, f, s | 14.4k words 

a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.

love love their work, even has a whole post dedicated to explaining weed basics 101 which i appreciate. A LOT

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 by @spiderm444rk↳ smau | f | ongoing

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted. on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it’ll earn him money, but it’s not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day. once the school band announces they’re looking for a new guitarist, he’s absolutely ready to apply until he reads the ‘music students only’ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

sucker for mark lee and bands 😋😋

𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬 by @https-lvesick ↳ spiderman smau | a, f | ongoing

toronto has never been so chaotic, but things are working out since the spiders appeared to save the citizens. spiderman and silk are the city's biggest saviours and they count on them to keep them safe, even the police. but, aside from their big responsibilities, they’re just teenagers, trying to be themselves and keep their grades good, trying to have a social life and maybe a love life as successful as their superhero life. but… what’s easier to tell? that you have a crush on your best friend or that you’re a mutant superhero?

so so so so hyped for this since it started and excited for it still... a spiderman smau is just so good especially for mark <33

𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 by @strrykais ↳ fantasy au + smau | f, a | ongoing

did you know that angels walk the earth before they get accepted into heaven, being tasked to watch over a human and complete their assignment. renjun was excited to finally have the chance to earn his wings, until he finds out his task is getting you to love life. a very depressed girl meets a very desperate boy, can they learn that maybe staying on earth isn't such a bad thing after all.

so hyped for this one actually even though it's the newest one on this list i think.

𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐭𝐞𝐧. by @zchl ↳ angsty little drabble | a | 1k words

(doesnt have a summary) renjun in the hospital, you're waiting for news.

literally broke me.

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 by @hwanchaesong ↳ exes to lovers | a, f | 1.1k words

[part of the after hours series] Y'all bring gravity to shame because even with its constant pull of 9.81 m/s^2, it still can't put your drunken pieces back together.

the series is so good check it out. this one is my fav though, it's just honestly a scenario i've never thought about before.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 ↬

𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @hazyhae ↳ fwb to lovers + plug!jeno | f, a, s | 4.7k words

jeno doesn't think he's ever felt this restless in his life. maybe he's been smoking a bad batch of flower, or maybe it's the fact that you haven't knocked on his door in over a month.

oh god. jeno isn't even one of my ults or wreckers but damn this hits the spot actually?

8 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 by @nanaxwii ↳ friends to lovers | f, a, | 1.3k words

Why do all good stories come to an end? Why don’t we try to make it work? It just takes 8 letters to fix it all, or does it…?

loving this one... it's filled with tooth rotting fluff that's so cute omg... i love them.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐂𝐊 ↬

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | f | 2k words

you just want to show your boyfriend how important he is to you.

like the title it's literally so sweet... tooth-rotting fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 by @lqfiles ↳ smau | f | ongoing

after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbors with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is. or in which you found yourself a very nice apartment, the only issue? your neighbor is your friend's somewhat ex-situationship who won't stop playing his guitar at 2 am in the night.

you will absolutely shit yourself reading this (in a good way dare i say?)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧 by @diorcities ↳ ballet au | s, h | 20.9k words

docile bodies loaded with lethal venom and betrayals are commonplace in the prestigious academy, and you happen to be their new prey when you're given the starring role with the smooth seducer with the devil's carved grin that everyone desperately desires: haechan

probably the filthiest one on this list? read the tags before reading, might be too much. it's just extremely poetic...

𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 ↬

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ fighter au | a, f | 2.7k words

it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

i hate you for this hua (esp part 2) but i also love to drown in angst

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 by @markiemelon ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | f | idk lol

going over to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

this was so sweet omg

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ enemies to lovers smau | f, a | ongoing

going ovevery college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easierer to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

unfortunately i cannot put cherry flavored, but this is just as good. check it out!!!

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄 ↬

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧 by @lowkeychenle ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | s, f, a | 9k words

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

fucked me over so badly.

𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭! by @wonbin-truther ↳ idol smau | f | smau

idol chenle x idol reader try to avoid dating rumors

this was SOO FUNNY

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | s | 2.5k words

a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

i fully choked the day i read this. had to take a breather omg 😵😵

𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞 by @mins-fins ↳ royalty au | f, a | 22.7k words

where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

actually such a sucker for royalty fics... and chenle is so prince coded

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ parallel universe + time traveling au | f, a | 6.4k words

After a long day of stressful practice, Chenle finds himself in deep sleep on his bed and wakes up when a strange child that came from nowhere jumped on him—scaring him in the progress. To add to everything, the young idol learns that he just traveled to the future and is able to meet his future daughter. But will Chenle be able to be that great husband and father when he doesn’t even have a single clue on what’s going on?

one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITES I HAVE EVER READ. if you're gonna read any of these read this.

𝐒𝐄𝐑Á 𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 by @galacticseonghwa ↳ biker smau | f, a, s | ongoing

your friends were all you needed, they were your brothers from another mother they loved to say. but that all went to shit after ricky dragged you to one of his motorbike sprints. who are you to say no when ricky's opponent claws his way into your inner circle and present himself as your dream man?

really really good and underrated... i love chenle can you tell...

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 by @chenlesfavorite ↳ motorcyclist smau | f, a | ongoing

working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

wdym this is ending soon... no way.... im gonna cry wtf

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ high school au | f | 7.2k words

You love stories. If anyone would ask, you’d rather live in it then wake up another day in a world where everyone’s having the love story you’ve been daydreaming about. Of course falling in love with your best friend never came across your mind so it was a bit of a mess when you realized Jisung didn’t only view you as a ‘friend’. 

so so so so sos sos cute omfghsdjsah

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 by @jirsungs ↳ college smau | f | completed

a story about a college student enjoying her life in school perfectly fine, until one of her friends drags the group along to watch their school's band perform. little did she know that day would be marked as the day her whole world turned upside down because of a particular, nonchalant, and difficult drummer boy. a drummer boy who spilled his entire drink on her brand new outfit at a party and never came back.

i actually binged this in a day bc it was so good

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 by @babbymochiiii ↳ discord call au (if you know where this is going...) | s | ??? words

you and jisung have discord date night, where things take a turn.

sorry guys im.. a little shameless sometimes...

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 by @jaysng ↳ friends to lovers | f | idk lol

jay and mute reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failure the reader does something surprising.

this was just so sweet i literally fell in love with him all over again

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 by @yeonzzzn ↳ zombie apocalypse au | f, h, a, s | 26.2k words

in the middle of the apocalypse, you and jay find each other in a situation of life and death, using the protection of each other to get to the next safe zone. unfortunately for the both of you, things take a turn once secrets get revealed and the fight for survival becomes greater.

probably one of my personal favorites on this list teehee. i love jay park.

𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐔𝐈 ↬

𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 by @wheeboo ↳ dark + psychiatric facility au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

literally had me gripping the edge of my seat as i read this

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐇𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 by @wonbin-truther ↳ influencers smau | f, a | ongoing

sohee was a well known streamer, having grown his fanbase over covid with the game minecraft and slowly branched into other games along with sponsorships and modeling offers. he was also well known for being your number one twitter fanboy, never missing one of your posts even if fashion wasn't his greatest interest. what happens when a modeling gig brings him face to face with you?

this was a really sweet smau omfg... and sohee streamer just makes so much sense...

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @sehunniepot ↳ disneyland cast member au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

if y'all have anything disney related send my way cause i'll literally eat it all up. JUST LIKE THIS ONE.

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐔 ↬

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 by @slytherinshua ↳ established relationship | f | ~500 words

jealous riku over seiji from whisper of the heart

i need more riku content omfg. ALSO THIS IS PERFECT? ITS JUST A DRABBLE BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH?

SEND ME UR FICS SO I CAN READ THEM BTW !!!! i'll try to update this as often as i can... or maybe make more depending on the amount on here, but thank you all so much for the wonderful stories <33

[kpopcafeeee]

Take out

Pairing: rockstar boyfriend haechan x fem! Reader

Genre: rockstar au, smut

Warnings: rockstar haechan, smut, hair pulling, doggy style kinda, haechan marking reader to let people that his, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people!!!), aftercare, dom haechan if you squint. I think that’s it!!

Summary: your at the after party with boyfriend that is apart of a band until something unexpected happens

A/N: this is a request and I didn’t see it until today so I’m sorry babes and I hope you’re satisfied with this 🤧

MDNI 🔞

You’re at the after party with your boyfriend who was talking with his bandmates at the time but still keeping a close eye on you.

Your talking with your friend on the couch until a guy comes up “hey baby wanna dance with me” the rando says looking in your eyes with a smug smirk on his face “no thank you” you say in the most polite way you can tell him “awww come one just one dance and I’ll leave you alone ba-“ and before he can his words out haechan is standing behind “ i think she said no buddy” he says looking the guy dead in his eyes “ who they are you” slurring at the end of his words “I’m her boyfriend that’s who I am” he says putting his hand in his pockets “y/n get up and let’s go” he says looking at you.

You give your friend a farewell and walk away with your Boyfriend until a the guy tries to grab your hand but haechan grabs your hand and speeds up the pace, until your in the bathroom, he pulls you in the bathroom lock the door behind him and going straight for your neck “h-hycuck” you say when he bites a sensitive part of your neck, he bites and suck on the sensitive parts on your neck so hard that your covered in purple hickeys. He growls in your ear “relax baby just let me take care of you” he says wrapping your legs around his waist to carry you to the sink.

He lifts up your skirt moving your pantys to the side and sliding two fingers into your cunt easily cause your already soaking for him by his touch.

“So wet for me” he says against your ear, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt. You bite your lip to contain the noise so hard that you can taste your blood from your lip. After he’s down prepping you he pull down his black jeans along with his briefs.

he pulls you off the sink and turns you around so you are facing the mirror and your chest laying on the cold surface, he teases your entrance with his cock so much that you can’t hold your moans in anymore “h-hyuck s’to much” you say your Laying your done on the cold surface “don’t put your head look at the mirror” he says grasping you hair and making you look up “I’m gonna fuck you and your gonna look in the mirror or else you don’t get to cum princess” he says with a mischief smirk on his face.

He pushes his cock into making both of you moan in unison at how tight your walls clench around him “f-fuck baby I prepped you for my cock and your still tight” he says growling, he lets you adjust until he starts thrusting into you hard making you yelp at the sudden intrusion “f-fuck” you say keeping your eyes on your boyfriend behind you.

“F-faster p-please” you say your climax coming he then leans down onto you his chest against your back, his hand that not occupied with your slides under you and starts rubbing your bud fiercely “m’gonna c-cum” you say legs beginning to weaken. Biting down on your collarbone so hard that he was sure it was going to leave a mark “cum for me baby” he says thrusting into you more harder and rough then before “f-fuck” you say as your eyes roll to the back of your head and after a few more thrusts haechan cums into your gummy walls some leaking out of you cunt.

That’s when he comes back to reality and cleans you up “since I fucked you so hard that your legs hurt I think I should buy you some food” he says chuckling at how your limping towards the door “let me help you” he says wrapping your arm around him and walking out of the party, helping you get into the car “want some take out?” He says giving that beautiful smile you loved so much “sure”

THE END

©kpopcafeeee

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐉𝐉'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐭.𝟏

Updated : 8th March 2024 | Fic Counter : 9

Mature [M] Fluff [F] Romance/Slice of Life [R] Comedy [C] Gore/Thriller [G] Horror [H] Supernatural/Fantasy [S] Others [O]

Masterlist Navigator

Three Is Better | Poly Bf's Au [M/F]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You suggest something new, and the boys love the idea.

Crave Sex Like Air | Demon Au [M]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You missed your boyfriends dearly. But they were currently on a mission. Little did they know you had a few spell up your sleeves, so you could have them, even if it was only for a moment.

Why So Tense | College Au [M]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your two professors were more than happy to show you some tips and tricks to help you study.

Prove It | College Au [M]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex… right?

New Member | Rockstar Au [M]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're the newest member to join one of the most famous rock bands. And luckily for you they are all hot…and fuckable.

Black Card | Mob Boss Au [S/F]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were hiding a big secret from your two loving boyfriends. What happens when they finally find out?

Lesson one be a good girl | College au [M]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your professors just wanted to help you learn and gain knowledge. Your first lesson happened to be very educational.

In The Night | Vampire Au [A/F/R/M/G]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky was your protector. The king of the land, but even the king has his dark side, and now Ser Rogers, the leading knight, must help you love him.

Look What We Have Here | Roommate Au [M]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your two roommates love to make it hard for you to find a partner… but what happens when they stop you at the door of your apartment and "convince" you that you deserve better.

© 1800JJBarnes. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[danjaley]

Links to Simsxolove's CAS CC

(EA Hair Age Conversions, BGC Hair, Accessory hats, some Clothing. Not covered are Sims and Wall-Art.)

This creator is no longer active for Sims 3 and their cc-posts have been deleted. This is a directory to their downloads. There are no previews in this post (it's long enough as it is). There are previews included in the downloads though, and it's mostly EA meshes.

This directory will most likely get updated in the future.

The links called "Dropbox" and "Mega" lead to the original creator's uploads.

Some files are backuped in this SFS folder (by @parystrange), these are named "SFS Pary". Links to my own backup folder are named "SFS Danjaley". This one only has files I couldn't find elsewhere. If any of the links get broken in the future, let me know, so I can provide a backup.

Polygon warning: A user alerted me to high polygon counts on the following hairs: AM IP Wet Mess BGC; CF MSS RoSweet; CF Store Fun Flower. These may have happened by merging morphstates. In general, the meshes are EAxis and therefore within the game's recommended dimensions. For alternatives, see here.

Abbreviations: A: Adult, C: Child, P: Toddler, F: Female, M: Male, U: Unisex. WA: World Adventures, UNI: University Life, SHT: Showtime, MSS: Mastersuite Stuff; BGC: Basegame Compatible; * See polygon warning

Original Dropbox Parent Folders

Hair, Clothes, Accessories (The folders Lots, Houses, Poses and Posters have been deleted)

Individual Sets

Basegame Compatible Hair and unaltered Store Content

(As far as could be found:)

Generations: Mega

University Life: Dropbox

Island Paradise*: Dropbox

Island Paradise Part 2: Dropbox

Late Night Female Hair: Mega

Late Night Male Hair: Mega

Seasons Female Hair: Mega

Master Suite Stuff: Dropbox

Surf's Up Sun and Fun (Store Set): Dropbox

High End Loft Female Hair: Mega

Katy Perry Female Hair: Mega

Decades Female Hair: Mega

EA Hats converted Hair-to-Accessory

"Smoke 'N Mirrors": AU: Side-Cap, Knitted Basegame Beanie / AU+CU: Cat, Back-Cap): Dropbox

Knitted Hipster Beanie: Dropbox

Pompom [Toddler] Hat for AU: Dropbox

"Updated Hats + 2 Bonuses": Aviator (All Ages), Panda (All Ages); AF: Hippie Flower Headband, Bouffant Bun Headband, Mastersuite Bow: Dropbox

"Dehairified Hats for Kids": [Link broken and I couldn't identify the content]

"Hanky Panky" Accessory Hats. AU: Cowboy Hat, Military Cap, French Beret: Dropbox

"Misc": [Set for which I couldn't find the post] AU: Super Skunk Hat, Baker Cap, Baseball Cap, Diesel Cap, Top Hat AF: Mysterium Hat AF+CF: Side Bow; AU+CU: University Beanie: SFS Danjaley

Hair Edit Adult

Katy Perry Cookie Hair Edit (AF): Dropbox (See also here)

EA Hair Conversions Adult to Child and Toddler

Toddler+Child Conversions (Store Hairs. CF: Side Ponytail Chic, Pop Star Hairstyle, CM: The Roaring 20s, Knitted Beanie; PF: Side Ponytail Chic, Killer Curls; PM: The Roaring 20s): Dropbox

"4 Conversions" Store Hairs. CF: Pompom Hat (Panda), The Blake, Pert Pixie, The Alana: Dropbox

"That Boy"/ More Conversions. Hair AM to CM. Store: Duck's Tail, Little Louie, The Duude, AMB: Romantic, SHT: Blown Back Gel; UNI Beanie Loose: Dropbox

"4 More Hair Conversions" Hair AF to CF. SHT: Performer, UNI: Braid Band, Side Pony; MSS: RoBow. Dropbox

"Easy Peasy" Store Hair AF to CF: Bewitching Bun, Killer curls, Wilderness Braid: Dropbox

"Cheeky Monkey" Store Hair Conversions Pt. 2: Store Hair AF to CF: Over Shoulder Braid, Side Swept, Sitcom Style, Valley Girl. Dropbox

"Little Miss" / Store Conversions Pt. 1: Store Hair AF to CF: Braided Band, Hello Angel, Derby Delight, Modern Braids, Bountiful Beret, Dolly Darling, Bound Up Bows: Dropbox | Derby Delight Hat fixed (enabled all 4 channels): SFS Danjaley

"Random EP Hair Conversions Pt. 2". AM to CM. SN: Long Wavy, UNI: Fly Bangs. Dropbox

"Random EP Hair Conversions". AF to CF. SN: Bob Bangs, Princess Hair, Elegance, UNI: Braided Bun, Cheer Short; SHT: Ponytail Emo. Dropbox

"Pastel Crayons": AF to CF. Store: Brassy Lassy Bob, Can't Stop Cool Hat, Fortune Teller, High Bun; IP: Waterfall; MSS: RoSweet*; Basegame: Low Ponytails. SFS Pary |

"Snow Angels": AM to CM and PM IP: Wetmess; Store: Finsout, Loose Curl, Practical Curls (PM). SFS Pary

"Petite Princesse": Store, AF to CF: Dramatic Ponytail, Almost There Hair; CF to PF: Hello Angel, Braids and Roses: SFS Pary

"Snowfall": AF to CF Store: Funflower*, Wavy Bob. SFS Pary

"Toddler Conversions EA Textures": AF and CU to PF/PU Store: Pompom Hat Bear, Wavy Bangs, Wild Bed Head. SFS Pary

Clothing

"Polyamorous": Four edited Diesel Stuff Jeans: Dropbox

Hellokittysailormoon Leggings: SFS Pary

Adventuretime Leggings: SFS Pary

[lemoncrushh]

You And I

Summary: Alyssa always wanted Harry, so every time he called, she was there waiting for him at the bar. But one night, things shifted between them.

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), maybe a little angst. 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 4.5k+

A/N: Originally written and posted in 2019. Harry x OC, AU, written in first person. Loosely inspired by the Lady Gaga song (not the 1D song lol).

He’d told me to wait for him at the bar. I sat at the corner, nursing a gin and tonic while the band broke down their equipment. I laughed when Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” began playing through the speakers, the line about the old man making love to his tonic and gin poignantly accentuating the scene.

“Fitting, yeah?” chuckled Bruno, the bartender I’d come to know well over the last few months.

I sneered at him as I stirred the little straw in my glass. “I dunno. I was thinking more along the lines of Lady Gaga.”

“Gaga?” Bruno raised a brow.

“Y’know. At the corner of the bar with my high heels on.”

Bruno’s shoulders shook with laughter as he wiped down the bar in front of me. “I’ll put that one on next, darling.”

“Put what on next?” I heard a voice call behind me.

I twisted around on my stool to see Harry stepping off the stage, an easy grin on his handsome face. I returned the smile, happy to get a better look at him. For the first time, the band had opted to wear makeup, something I’d urged them to try before but had never happened.

“You and I,” I teased, swinging one leg over the other. “The Gaga song.”

“Hmm,” he sounded as he approached me. Reaching his hand out, he cupped my chin, lifting it slightly before placing a soft kiss on my painted lips.

“I reckon when it comes to you and I, there will be no putting on…” he paused, a smirk causing his dimple to appear in his left cheek. “Only taking off.”

“Oh Styles, but you do have a way with words,” I quipped in a playful, faux accent.

He let out a giggle then, apparently amused by his own joke. He gave me one more kiss before tapping his hand on the bar.

“Bruno,” he said. “One more shot for the road?”

“Long as you ain’t driving, love!”

Harry eyed me, no doubt silently questioning how many drinks I’d had. In the two hours I’d been at the bar, I’d only had two drinks including the current half-drunk one in front of me. I’d watched Harry and his bandmates drink at least twice as much during their set, in addition to shots that fans in the audience had sent up.

“I’m good,” I reassured him. I was his drive home anyway. It was kind of understood.

With a nod, Bruno poured Harry a shot of dark golden liquid. Taking it in his hand, Harry clinked the glass against mine and downed it in one gulp. Lowering the glass, he smirked again when he caught me staring at him.

“Wha’?” he asked.

“Just looking at you,” I replied. “You look good with eyeliner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Kinda sexy, actually.”

“You think?” Harry stepped closer to me, loving the attention.

“Indeed,” I continued. Then when Bruno came around and took Harry’s empty glass, I asked him. “Bruno, don’t you think Harry looks sexy with eyeliner?”

“Of course, doll!” he agreed. “Sexy AF!”

I threw my head back laughing and Harry gave Bruno a wink. “Thanks, love.”

“Sing us a song, you’re the piano man!”

At the sound of singing, I turned around again to see Jeremiah, Harry’s drummer walking towards us. The youngest member of the band, he looked so much like Pete Wentz, especially tonight with the black eyeliner.

“All packed up, H!” he told Harry. “Ready to go?”

“Um...no…” Harry tilted his head to gesture towards me. “Alyssa’s here.”

Jeremiah looked from his bandmate to me and then back, the lightbulb going off in his head.

“Oh! Yeah! Right! Sorry, mate! I’ll just…” he pointed behind him, “head out. Good to see you, Alyssa.”

“You too, hon,” I smiled. “You were smashing it tonight.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah beamed. Then with one last wave, he stumbled over his own feet and left the way he’d come. I giggled at his adorable awkwardness, blaming it on his youth.

Swiveling back to face Harry and Bruno, I took the last few sips of my cocktail which was mostly water by then. The first chords of “You and I” started then, and I lifted my gaze to the bartender who danced with glee.

“It has been a long time since you came around,” Harry quoted the lyrics as he slid his arm around my waist.

“Two weeks, Harry,” I chuckled. “I was sat right here at this bar two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks is a long time t’me,” he murmured, his lips finding the tender spot behind my ear. I giggled softly at the touch which sent goose flesh across my skin.

“I doubt that’s the time frame Gaga was referring to,” I said wryly. “Besides, you want me around more often, perhaps you should ring or text me.”

I heard Bruno make a muffled sound of shock from behind the bar as Harry’s mouth stalled on my neck.

“I reckon I should do that,” admitted Harry.

He stood up straight then, his eyes on mine as I gave him an accusing glare. It wasn’t that I really doubted he wanted me around. But sometimes I needed that reassurance.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he said, though his words were interrupted a bit by the noise of two more lads approaching.

“Alyssa! You made it!” shouted Gavin, the band’s guitarist.

I rose from my stool and hugged both him and Max, the bassist. Two females soon followed, and I noticed the one whom I didn’t recognise wrapped her arms around Max.

“I’m so glad you went with the eyeliner tonight,” I commented. “I don’t suspect you’ll allow me to take the credit.”

Gavin grinned, “Of course, darling, it was your idea.”

“No it wasn’t,” Harry jabbed.

I turned and poked him in the ribs. “Yes it was. Let me have my moment.”

He threw his head back laughing before pulling me to him in a bear hug. I could tell he was drunk, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath, the sweat beneath his shirt, but I didn’t mind. Some of our most fun times were when we could tease each other like this. Still, sometimes I did wish he would just be honest and tell me how he felt about me, rather than always being light-hearted and funny.

Gavin, Max and the girls all got beers from Bruno before he closed up the bar. We all sat and chatted for a bit before saying our goodbyes. Then with a look - that unspoken understanding - Harry stepped off his stool, reached for my hand and followed me out to my car.

“You’re different tonight,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence except for the 90s playlist I had going.

I raised a brow as I stopped at a red light. “How do you mean?”

“I dunno. You just...are.”

I eyed him and then turned back to the road. “I got a new lipstick.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “‘s not that. You just...seem different.”

The light changed and I accelerated, my heartbeat doing the same.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t understand. I’m still me.”

I heard Harry hum, perhaps in agreement. He was quiet again while the music changed from Alanis Morissette to Pearl Jam. I wondered what he meant exactly, though part of me had my own suspicions. Then when I was nearly a block from my flat, Harry reached over and turned down the radio, muting the voice of Eddie Vedder.

“Are we okay?” he asked me.

I stopped myself from giggling, something I sometimes tend to do when I’m anxious or nervous. Instead, I bit my lip and let his question roll around in my head. I pulled up to my building and parked before I finally let out a tiny laugh.

“We’re always okay, Harry,” I said with a grin.

Pulling the key out of the ignition, I opened my car door and stepped out. I half wondered if Harry would actually follow, but as I stepped onto the sidewalk, I heard the slam of the passenger door. Meeting me at the curb, he took my hand and walked with me up the stairs to my flat.

“I don’t have whiskey,” I called after I’d tossed my keys on the table and made my way to the kitchen. “But I have vodka and wine.”

“None for me, thanks,” I heard Harry reply.

“What?” I turned around, my eyes wide. Harry always wanted a nightcap.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Oh.” Now he was the one who seemed different.

“Did something happen, Alyssa?”

Taken aback, I paused a moment and shook my head. “Something...like what? When?”

“Since I saw you last,” replied Harry.

I turned from him, pretending to walk to the refrigerator. Then I changed my mind and took a glass down from the cupboard and poured myself water from the tap.

“Lots of things happen in two weeks, love,” I commented. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Setting my untouched glass on the counter, I looked back at him. His face was expressionless, though his eyes seemed to reveal a bit more. Perhaps it was the makeup. No wonder they call the look “emo”.

“Tell me,” Harry said softly.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” I accused.

He stared at me blankly. “Yeah, baby.”

I snorted. “So, I’m baby now?”

“Alyssa…”

Ignoring the tone of his voice, I sighed and looked away.

“Let’s see…” I began. “I’ve been working a lot. Visited my mum last Saturday. Got my nails done. And bought the new lipstick like I mentioned...oh and I got a new succulent, see?” I reached for my newest addition to my cactus collection to show him. “I’ve named this one Prince because he has a bit of a purple hue to him-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted.

I stared at him, frozen. “Sorry? For what?”

Harry stepped closer to me, taking Prince from my hands and setting it on the counter. “I’m sorry I waited two weeks to ring you.”

“Oh.” I blinked.

Sliding his hands around my waist, he pulled me to him. Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first. When I responded with my hands sliding up his shoulders, he kissed me harder, with purpose.

“I do like the new lipstick,” he murmured against my lips. I grinned when I noticed some of it had rubbed off onto him.

“You have such pretty lips,” he added, his eyes focused on my mouth. “First thing I wanna do when I see you is kiss them.”

I smiled at his comment, not just from flattery but because I’d always felt the same about his.

“I also meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “So do you.”

Harry grinned then, a sexy smirk. “You like the eyeliner, yeah?”

“I really do,” I nodded. “I think you should wear it more often.”

“I will if you come ‘round more often.”

“You have to ring me, Styles,” I reminded him. “I have a life, you know. As much as you may like to think otherwise, I don’t keep up with your schedule.”

“Maybe I should give it to you,” Harry said, his voice deep with no trace of humour as his hands roamed down to my bum. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“My schedule, I mean,” he added with his own chuckle. “God, woman, what are you doing to me?”

“Me?” I raised a brow.

“Yes, you. You get me all flustered, I dunno what I’m saying.”

“I’m just stood here, Harry.”

“That’s enough.”

I studied his face, trying my best to read his eyes. The green seemed more defined with the black liner, and for a split second I felt my stomach flip. I lifted my hand to touch a curl that had fallen across his forehead and heard him release a breath.

The man was definitely a mystery. For months I’d shown up here or there to see his band play. In between we might’ve had a few dates, but I never felt like what we had was anything serious. We always ended up shagging, and it wasn’t like I regretted it. We definitely had that chemistry, and we were good in bed. But I didn’t think he considered me his girlfriend; I didn’t think he considered me at all. At least, not until he was ready to see me again. And like always, I would be there when he wanted, because I really liked him.

But then he’d turn around and say something like this and I’d get all kinds of confused.

As it was, I had a hard time concentrating myself with his hands on my rear end. His lined eyes kept shifting between my own eyes and my mouth, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me again. This time, however, I was the one to give in, reaching for his neck and pulling him to me.

“Mmm, baby…” he moaned against my lips. He’d called me baby a handful of times before, but it never really meant much to me like it did now. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was...perhaps I was wanting him to feel what I felt. Or just...something.

I let my fingers linger on his chest before I began to unbutton his shirt. I knew where this was headed, but I wasn’t about to stop it. Feelings or no feelings, I wanted him in my bed again.

When I reached the bottom button, our lips broke free and Harry stared at me once again, his eyes now full of desire. At least I had a knack for reading that. Just like in the pub, I took his hand with an unspoken understanding and we walked down the hall to my bedroom.

“You got new sheets,” Harry commented.

I cringed, not sure if I was more embarrassed that I’d left my bed unmade or that he’d been there enough times to notice the sheets were different. Nervously I straightened the pillows before reaching behind me to unzip my dress.

“Let me,” I heard Harry say.

He strode across the room to me, his fingers on the zipper before I could protest. When my dress fell off my shoulders, his hands took its place, pushing it down the rest of the way. I felt the chills down to my toes as I stepped out of my heels and turned to face him.

I reckon I expected him to gawk at me some more like he’d been doing all evening, so I was completely surprised when his mouth crashed into mine. I immediately wound my arms around his neck and he lifted me up and onto the bed. He continued his assault on my mouth while his fingers tangled in my hair at the sides of my head. I could feel his erection through his jeans, the friction a fabulous sensation between my legs. Bending my knees, I lifted my hips slightly as I let out a gasp, the feeling of denim on cotton nearly too much for me.

Harry paused the snogging long enough to sit up and loop his fingers through the sides of my knickers. He looked at my face as he bit his lip. I wondered for a second if he was changing his mind, as this was usually not a part of the scenario where he’d stop.

“Something wrong?” I dare asked.

“Do you want me, Alyssa?”

My immediate reaction was more confusion. He’d never asked me that before. Sure, he’d moaned in my ear or against my mouth on more than one occasion that he wanted me. But he’d never asked if I wanted him. My expression softened and I gave him a smile.

“I always want you, Harry.”

With the tiniest grin and a nod, he pulled my panties down and let them fall on the floor. Then stood at the edge of the bed, he began to remove his own pants. I reached over to the bedside table then where I kept the condoms and pulled one out of the drawer.

“I promise I’ll bring my own next time,” I heard him say.

Lying on my back, I watched him crawl up the bed again.

“Next time?” I couldn’t help but razz him. The first time he’d stayed over, he didn’t have protection, but I did. I reckon after that it was just assumed.

“Yeah…” he lowered his face to mine. “Next time, love. I promise.”

He kissed me softly then, the softest kiss ever. He continued with a second on my chin, a third on my neck, a fourth on my chest…

I lost count after that.

I gripped the sheets underneath me when I felt his breath on my inner thigh. A low moan-like sound escaped my throat as I felt his thumb graze over me where I was already wet and waiting.

“You want me here?” Harry asked.

I barely heard him, his voice was so low and deep. But somehow my insides reacted and I managed to make a sound similar to yes.

I shut my eyes when I felt his tongue on me. He licked me delicately at first, like he was testing the temperature of his tea. I squirmed underneath him until he looped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to him, his tongue pressing just a bit.

“Harry…” I panted. “Oh god.”

My legs shook around his head while he began to devour me, his tongue working faster. Opening my eyes, I began to watch him, as much as I could at least. I reached down and pushed that one stubborn curl from his forehead and his eyes shifted up, locking with mine.

“‘s that good, baby?” he murmured, barely tearing his mouth away.

I merely nodded, the only thing I could manage at the moment besides coming undone. I bit my finger when he smiled and resumed his task, making me reach the edge.

I tugged on his hair as I came, calling out his name. He nipped at my thighs gently as they trembled before climbing up the bed to hover over me.

For a solid minute or two, he just stared at me. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something. Perhaps he was waiting for the green light. Or perhaps he was just waiting for me to stop shaking, I dunno. But I swear his gaze was like a magnet. I couldn’t look away.

The eyeliner had begun to smudge a bit from his recent activity. I started to reach up to swipe my thumb underneath his eye when I remembered the condom in my hand. I smiled and raised my brows, offering it to him.

“You still want me, baby?” he asked, taking it from me.

“What did I say?”

“Just making sure.”

Harry uncertainty was definitely something I was not used to, but as I watched him roll the condom on, I wondered if it wasn’t a put-on. He was nothing if not confident.

Situating himself, he kissed me once more before looking into my eyes.

“I always want you too, Alyssa,” he murmured.

Then before I could respond, he entered me fully. I gasped a tiny breath when I realised how deep he was so quickly. Then exhaling through my nose, I wrapped my legs around him.

“Mmm, I love when you do that,” he said.

I couldn’t help but giggle, knowing that was definitely something he liked, and I liked pleasing him. We moved together, a slow, steady rhythm at first. I could already feel my core reacting, my most sensitive spots throbbing.

He lifted his head again and I watched his face, his eyes burning into mine as he began to move faster. I had to unravel my legs from him, lifting my knees to give him more room for thrusts. Then with a groan, he sat back and held my hips as he fucked me hard. I bit my lip to keep my moans at bay, but I couldn’t help it. Dropping my arms beside my head, I cursed and called his name.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled. “So good, innit?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He slowed down then, a low chuckle releasing from his throat. “C’mere.”

I looked at him in wonder as he guided me up and onto his lap. I noticed then that he was perspiring, beads of sweat dripping on his forehead. This time I did reach to wipe them off, but instead Harry took my hands and kissed the backs of them.

“You’re amazing, Alyssa, you know that?”

I beamed at him as I slowly began to ride him.

“You want me, Harry?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck as his gorgeous green eyes looked up at me, the makeup starting to run down one cheek. I didn’t want to wipe it away this time. He looked so sexy.

“Always,” he replied.

I licked my lips and kissed him hard, my tongue wrestling with his. His hands covered my breasts while my hips moved gingerly. Then breaking the kiss, I rode him faster, bouncing on his lap.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned as he moved his hands to my hips for leverage.

“Is that good?” I asked him, just like he’d asked me earlier.

“Fuck yeah, baby, you drive me crazy.”

I watched his face, knowing he was close to unraveling. He let out a few expletives as his fingers dug into my flesh.

“Come for me, baby,” I urged. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to watch him, and just the thought of it made me drip with delight.

“You first,” he shook his head.

I wanted to argue that I already had, and that was enough. But I knew he’d just argue back. This goddamn boy. He was going to make me fall for him, wasn’t he?

I slowed down my pace, only slightly as I needed to rejuvenate. My breaths evening out and heartbeat slowing, I kissed him again. Our lips still locked, Harry grabbed my waist and laid me back on the bed again. Then he lifted my leg and pounded me hard.

“Fuck, Harry!” I screamed.

“Wrap your legs around me, love,” he requested.

I came immediately, the sensation of him deep inside and the sounds of his moans tipping me over the edge. My body trembled beneath his as his breaths quickened in my ear.

“Baby…” he groaned. “Oh, Alyssa.”

The sounds he made as he came were indescribable. This wasn’t our first shag. But it was definitely our first something else.

I lay spent on the dampened sheets, wishing I’d remembered to turn on the fan. Sticky with sweat, Harry rolled off of me, discarded the condom into the nearby bin and laid on his back breathing hard. We stayed like that for a while in silence until Harry surprised me again.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said for the...how many times? I turned my head to look at him, but his gaze was on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text just to let you know I was thinking of you. Because I was.”

My breath caught in my throat but I managed to clear it. “You were?”

“‘Course.” He turned onto his side to face me. His lips were so close to mine if either of us moved only slightly, they would touch.

“How was I supposed to know that, Harry?” I asked just above a whisper. 

Shaking his head, he seemed to consider my question. “I reckon you weren’t. I’m sorry.”

I bit my lip as he leant his forehead against mine and swung his arm across my waist. He hummed softly as though he had a song in his head.

“I wish I’d rung you to talk about your day. To ask about work or your mum. To hear about your adorable succulents.”

His last comment made me smile. “To be fair, you did text me Wednesday. So not quite two weeks.”

“Fucking Wednesday. Jesus, Alyssa,” he sighed. “And a text. How the fuck am I to expect us to be okay when I bloody text you on a Wednesday?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are we okay? Because you kind of have me worried now.”

“Yeah, if I haven’t already fucked it up,” he groaned.

“Harry…I never said you fucked it up. I’m still here. I still came to your show. I showed up and waited at the bar like you asked me to.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Did I really seem different tonight?” I asked.

“Not...well, kinda. You just...didn’t seem like yourself, that’s all.”

“Well then, I apologise, because I thought I was the same as I’ve always been - the same as you want.”

“What I want?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, Harry…” I hesitated. “We’ve never really discussed what we want from each other. But I assumed you didn’t want anything serious. We’re like...friends with benefits I reckon.”

“No, we’re not,” he stated.

My jaw dropped as I glared at him.

“I don’t want you to be..." he added.

“What?”

“Baby, I don’t want you to be just a friend with benefits. I want...this.” Harry gestured between us.

“This?”

“Us. You and I. Or, um...you and me, whatever.”

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I was sure it was so loud he could hear it. “Seriously?”

Harry nodded, his hand sliding underneath my jaw. “I want you, baby.”

I sighed, tears starting to form in my eyes. Blinking fast, I swallowed hard. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t mean just sex. I want you, for real. I was gutted when I thought something had changed between us, but then I realised it was my own fucking fault.”

“I don’t...know what to say, Harry.”

“Say you want me too. You and I.”

I smiled as I reached for him, kissing him tenderly and eagerly. “Always.”

Harry’s dimples appeared in his cheeks as he beamed at me. I couldn’t help it. I started giggling.

“Oh love,” I sighed. “Please tell me you’ll continue to do the eyeliner thing. I’m with Bruno. You look sexy AF.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Truth? You look completely fucked. And I love that it was with me. Only makes me want you more.”

“Well, in that case,” he murmured low, pulling my leg across his, “I’ll wear it from now on.”

“Just so I know it’s for me, and not your groupies.”

Harry snorted. “Or Bruno?”

“Eh, I don’t mind so much about Bruno. He’s on my side.”

Harry laughed harder before kissing me across my cheek and down my neck.

“You really are amazing, Alyssa,” he whispered in my ear. “Now...tell me about your succulents.”

“Well Prince is the newest, like I said,” I began, Harry’s mouth continuing its trail down my neck and shoulder. “Mick and Freddie were my first two and they’re still going strong. But Bowie is a bit temperamental…”

Hope you enjoyed!

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[simstv]

continuation of my f&h band au idea :oD (ignore the shoddy lineart and lack of bg)

[nyoomfruits]

send me an au and a line of dialogue and i will write a little drabble!!

AU

Apocalypse AU

Band AU

Celebrity AU

College AU

Demigod AU

Fake Dating/Engagement/Marriage AU

Office AU

Omegaverse AU

Body Swap AU

Room Mate AU

Royalty AU

Soulmate AU

Time Travel AU

Supernatural/Magic AU

Historical AU

Bartender/Bar AU

DIALOGUE

A. “What do you mean it was an accident? How can that be an accident!”

B. “How did you even find me?”

C. “Do I look like I belong here to you?”

D. “Well. It could be worse than this, I guess.” “Could it?”

E. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

F. "Who did this to you?"

G. "Do you want me to stay?"

H. “We’re in this together right?” “Always.”

I. “What do you think of this?” “I think you’re an idiot.” “So you don’t like it?” “No, of course I like it. You’re just an idiot.”

J. “So how upset would you be [insert silly/insane thing here]…”

K. “Are you okay?” “I am now.”

L. “Why are you covered in blood?” “Uh. Long story?”

M. "I need to ask something of you." "Always. Anything." "Don't say that before you hear what it is. Seriously."

N. “How did you get into this profession?” “Family business.”

O. “How do you know each other?” Both simultaneously, “We don’t.”

P. "Do you have some kind of spider-sense for when I need something?" "No, you idiot, [Name] texted me"

[chosclub]

After Last Night, 𝟏

PAIRING — choso ° f!reader GENRE — one night stand au!smut WORD COUNT — 6.1k (side eye) WARNINGS — cunnilingus (f!reader receiving) º penetration º 18+ smut! CONSPECTUS — After spending too long mulling over a breakup, you decide to join your friends to the bar they frequent, hoping for a new beginning and the guitar-playing, angel-voiced singer looks like a good contender. PARTS º 𝟷 º 𝟸 (coming soon)

A/N: If you were thinking to yourself:

"Damn, I wish I had a soundtrack-like playlist to listen to as I read",

We might intergalactically connected

It’s right here

Listen in order (obviously)

☆

According to the multiverse theory, there are infinite amounts of you, they all diverge upon different branches made up of decisions and indecisions. But out of infinity, there exist two current versions of you that are living simultaneously at almost midnight. One is curled up in bed, luminated only by your lamp, blurry light like a warm blanket as you scroll on your phone, eyes brimming with exhaustion. The other is squished between dancing, drunk bodies, in a dress slowly riding up your thighs, sticky, sweaty and exhausted. If your fate lay in your hands like a magic orb, every decision only decided by you, the beholder, you’d pick the first reality; To be half-asleep, in bed, alone but in good company. However, it’s been months since you got dumped and–

“I just thought to myself, fuck it yanno? Life’s too short to care about some man!” You shout over the blaring music to Maki, who seems to be completely in her own world, eyes shut, face jungled by her hair as her head sways side to side.

“Yeah! Fuck men!” To your surprise she shouts back, reaching out her drink to clash against yours and chug in solidarity. A cacophony of voices from your friends join in, shouting the same. Can’t count how many of these moments have happened up to this point, some with complete strangers, most with the girls who dragged you out in the first place. The burning that initially rested in the back of your throat is no longer there, replaced by the insatiable desire for more – more drinks, more dancing, louder music, more excitement – fast forwarding through a movie and trying to fit in as much as possible. 

This rush of adrenaline has taken over you like a quenched beast, thirsty for more energy in any form it can latch on to, you decide to take a lesson from Maki’s book, closing your eyes, trying to absorb the music into your fingertips and arteries. Granted it’s been…a while since you’ve gotten to have a night like this, relationships sneakily take it out of you, it’s apparent your tolerance has depleted and the expectations for a Friday-night-out for everyone is your wannabe-alcohol-blackout-bender. 

The bar your friends frequent is a small one but always lively, the building feels like it’s going to spill over with the amount of people that fill up the dance floor, the bar, the patio. Moreover, Nobara offhandedly mentioned a hottie (her words) that plays with his band every weekend. 

There’s a newfound feeling, a thought that screams within you to disregard the fear of what could happen next — you have no one to answer to, no man in the corner telling you your dress is too short, no policing on what fun you could have. It’s an epiphany, only amplified by the alcohol that takes over your whole body, swaying your hips more deliberately, leaning comfortably into the air, lifting you and everyone else up until the entire dance floor floats. 

In an instant, the bubble is poked, atoms popped and disintegrated into the air; you have the ball and a football player just hungrily tackled you for it. Except you’re at a bar and a tall shadow of a being just bumped into your shoulder with a rushed force like you were the gate blocking his way through.

His hands hover over your shoulders as he floats through behind your back. “Shit! I'm so sorry!” He’s stopped to, presumably, only check if your brain is still intact inside your skull before he sets to rush through the rest of the crowd. The linger feels like an eternity to you, two paradoxes standing still among the dancing crowd that elevates around them. He’s almost made it to the stage when you come back down to Earth, leaving you standing still, without words. Another you would’ve cussed him out, grabbed him by the collar of his white shirt and brought him close to your nose to spill threats straight into his nostrils, this you only stares as he maneuvers from behind everyone, spilling an occasional excuse me you can only decipher from the movement of his lips.  

You watch as he props his foot onto the edge of the stage, a leap he climbs over with ease. He props his guitar over his shoulder, resting his hand on the strings. He stands over the crowd like a giant, the murky clouds drifting at his shoulders, he stares intently down at the people that seldom notice his band’s presence, sans one. The lights are dancing along his frame, pink purple blues illuminating his visage. His hair is split in two spiky buns, only a few strands that frame his face, his eyes dark with seriousness, a stripe the color of his eyes tattooed across his nose. 

The music drifts, dragging a series of groans, cheers, boos with it as he enters the indigo lights. 

He stands alone, adjusting his guitar and stepping closer to the mic. The lights dim a cool blue, leaving him as the center of attention, the focus. 

He steps on one of the pedals by his feet and begins to play a riff on his guitar. It’s a slow intro, already having captivated the audience, who have begun swaying to the entrancing melody.

He’s closed his eyes at this point, dipping his head down causing the loose strands to stand still on the tip of his nose and cheeks. His chest rises slowly in preparation, he leans closer to the mic, lips just grazing the metal grid of the mic head. He joins the melody and God, his voice is fucking angelic. He’s entered his own world now, paying no mind to the captivated crowd at his feet. His voice is raspy but strong, he’s singing as if the next verse is his last, the grate of his throat transforming the cringy 90s song he covers into an emotional ballad. You remember the melody, blasting from your older brother’s CD player, chorus bleeding from his room into yours until you banged a fist against the shared wall, signal for him to turn the volume down.

Your friends emerge from the rest of the crowd behind you to join the statue they left behind, watching, gazing at the dark-haired, angel-voiced performer. 

“No fucking way, is this Boyz II Men?” Nobara calls, propping her elbow on your shoulder like a pigeon landing on a limestone sculpture. 

“Yeah,” is the only word you can muster. 

She nods, “I’m into it.” The rest of you nod in unison like ogling robots, all at the command of the singer. Everything else sounded blurry, except for his voice. He’s reached the chorus, belting the notes, occasionally letting the audience peak at his irises, flooded in the iridescent indigo light. 

“I used to hate this song but–” A sentence left unfinished, floating with the air particles because whatever you say is no match for his melody and the way it has enchanted the crowd. 

The song concludes, the crowd enveloping him in cheers as his other band mates emerge from the crowd, picking up their respective instruments and talking amongst one another. Maybe it is the wow-factor of the band or maybe they are from outer space but you notice their uniquely styled hair; The bassist looks like a sea urchin, hairspray-locked spikes peeking out from his head of hair, the one with a mint-green detailed guitar next to him, pastel pink hair washed out by the dazzling white spotlight. The main act, the lead, listening to the two conclude a quick soundcheck, two buns lazily hanging on his head, the strands of hair slowly being picked up by the soft breeze of the ceiling fans and being dropped back on his forehead. 

The bassist begins striking a weighty, groovy riff and like a stack of dominoes, the background track and the guitarist follow lead. The pink haired boy inches his foot to his pedal board, tapping one slightly and his guitar begins to sound gritty; It’s a beat you can’t help but bop your head to. The lead singer’s voice has also taken a new approach from the ballad-singing, emotional sound before. This time, he’s closer to the mic, head dipping down so his irises glare forward and his voice swings in a way you’ve never heard before, left fingers carefully changing chords. His confidence and slight smirk drive a stake through your chest, heart pumping blood to get any other body part other than your head to move. His ability to soften his voice in falsetto for the pre-chorus leaves you captivated because holy shit he’s good. And holy shit are the three of them coordinated. 

The pink haired guitarist quickly taps a different pedal on his board, the bassist immediately playing a different riff, one heavier, more viscous. The slow riffs from the mint-green guitar send the crowd slowly swinging, bopping their heads. The singer adapts as well, grabbing the mic stand with one hand; You can’t tell if the wavelengths traveling from the bass guitar to you are affecting gravity itself, if the three of them smoothly transitioning to the slower part of the song, or if standing for so long has made you light-headed, but you’d bet the triple digits in your savings account that the raven haired, two spike buns singer glanced into your eyes. 

You exhale at the slight exchange, two stars orbiting a galaxy and only for a nanosecond meeting at a conjunction; When you blink, his eyes are closed as the other two band members begin singing the background vocals, leaving the lead to show off more of his falsetto.

—☆

The alcohol that was streaming through your veins has died down, only leaving behind heavy eyelids and a fuzzy view of everyone dancing. You and your friends linger around the bar, your elbow propped up on the wood, your only crutch to stay awake. The people have begun to fizzle out, the band playing earlier taking a break, the speakers booming with 2010s R&B. 

You wish you would’ve seen him approaching, like an entity identifiable by their silhouette, the shadow growing bigger and bigger behind you. 

“Hi,” he begins and before you can turn around to acknowledge the greeting, he continues, “I’m really sorry about bumping into you earlier.” 

It is then you turn your head from the rest of the conversation, catching a glimpse of the girls as they stare as if they’ve seen a being and are too scared to tell you that it’s about to devour you first. 

Now that he’s closer, he’s taller. 

“It’s fine,” you shrug, smiling, “I mean surely you could’ve navigated a crowded venue better but who’s to say?”

He has the same gaze from earlier, iridescent eyes unafraid to maintain eye-contact. He smiles and purses his lips to the side as a terrible cover up for his smirk. 

“Settle it with me and let me buy you a drink then.” 

You try to play it cool, but you’ve already used up all the shrugs and he’s already leaned his elbow against the bar, cocking his head to the side; He’s made himself comfortable because he already knows the answer. The other girls have already left, you see Nobara’s amber hair from your peripheral standing outside with Maki and Mai. 

All the confidence and allure you can convey to him, trying your hardest to mirror him – “Sure.” 

He turns to face the drinks, the only time you can look at him meticulously without him noticing. You stare at the tendons on his neck, his white shirt that hangs loosely on his form as he leans closer to the bar to get a bartender’s attention. Your gaze makes its way down, defined muscles outlining the shape of his arm, he rests his left on the bar and his right he holds by his face, a soft wave to catch the eye of the bartender who has his back turned to the both of you. You don’t dare look down further. He turns his head to you just in time before your eyes can make it past his waistline.

You blink at the bartender who stares expectantly back at you – An unsuspecting passer-by that watched you gawk at the spiked-bun singer. 

“A vodka cranberry, please,” 80% cranberry, you wish to add because you want to spare tomorrow-you the turmoil, she’s dealing with enough from the sleep-deprivation as it is. The bartender glances back at him, asking if he’s starting a tab or closing it off. He drives the inside of his cheek between his teeth before requesting to close it. 

Once the bartender has turned, tending to more drinks and drunken orders, the raven haired boy turns to you, leaning temple against his palm.

“I love your drink of choice –” He tips his head forward slightly, pausing for you to fill in the blank.

“____” 

“I love your drink of choice, ____”

“What did you get?” You pause as well, waiting for him to give a part of himself, an equal trade so that even if every memory from tonight diminishes tomorrow, each other’s names will remain. 

“Choso,” He reaches the arm he was balancing his temple on to shake your hand, you giggle at the sudden formality and he smiles expectantly, like he knew that’s the reaction the gesture would ensue, “A whiskey neat.” 

“Oh, simple, I like it.” 

The bartender comes back with the two drinks,  one a radiant rouge, the other a brooding umber. He leaves the checkbook for Choso to fill out and departs once again.

You take a sip of your drink, the bitter taste of vodka hitting your bottom lip; As if by telekinesis, the bartender had taken the ratio you thought of and flipped completely.

You exhale a biting breath. “Damn, that’s so strong.” 

“You don’t like it?” Choso looks at you as he takes a sip of his drink, lips tipping the edge of the glass back. You can’t help but stare, wishing you were the drink. He swallows a sip back without even wincing. 

“Not how I’d make it, I guess.”

He raises his brows, “You bartend?”

“Yeah, a few blocks down.” You nod, “I guess on my days off, I come to spend money here instead of getting the drinks for free at my own workplace.” 

He smiles, “Makes me feel fateful you chose tonight to blow your money on a 200% markup.”

You shrug, “of course, anytime.” 

— ☆

The cold fall air is nipping so late at night, you try your best not to stumble over the cobble, shamelessly hanging on to Choso’s arm as he tries not to stumble over you dragging his body down. It’s nearing 1 a.m. and the music booming from the bar suddenly turns off, drunken bodies shuffling out and trying to figure out where to venture to next.

“Who lives closer?” You suggest. You glance up, expectant, and although you reach his shoulder, it still feels like Choso towers over you. He turns his head slightly towards you, but the eyes are what lock in with yours, waterlines lifting as he smirks. 

“What’re you trying to whore me out? We just met!” He exclaims. Panic almost rushes to your chest before he quickly chuckles, “Fuck dude, I’m totally kidding, I’m sorry. My apartment’s nearby if you’re willing to walk a bit.” 

You exhale, nodding because he seized all your words from you. 

The night envelops you both in her dark embrace, mid-October wind pulling your coat back as you use your hand to cover any part of your face you can keep warm. You and Choso try not to stumble and you try not to turn and look at him as he walks, his eyes focused straight ahead, jaw lightly clenched trying to bear against the wind. His hair flowing behind him exposes part of his face you hadn’t seen yet, soft pale skin, he looks different, his tattoo more in view despite the color of it partly blending with the night sky. 

His apartment is a few blocks away from the bar, a duplex he says he shares with his bandmates, Yuji and Megumi. The road is quiet, streets lined with cars and the glowing of streetlights is the only warmth you two can seek out in the cold. From the outside, the duplex is brick-lined, bay-windows on the first floor that overlook the street; You can see a warm light radiating from a lamp left on inside. 

You reach the top of the steps, Choso unhooking his arm from your hold and fishing through his jacket. The keys jingle as he inserts one and opens the door, allowing you to enter first into the warmth. The living room is eccentric, a long lamp reaching over the couch, orbs that illuminate the room hanging from the metal. The couch is caramel colored leather, lined with pillows on each side, matching the side chair and the walnut wood of the table. A fireplace faces the couch and everywhere, everywhere, on the floor, on the bookshelves, propped against the coffee table, are vinyl records, they line the player, they cover the table.

“Wow,” You exhale a breath, face vibrating with warmth, “this is an insanely nice place.”

“I know, right? We’ve been renting it for a while, got extremely lucky.” Choso floats in behind, hanging his jacket on the coat hanger and heads for the kitchen. “You want anything?”

You turn to face him and the kitchen, a large bar counter lined with stools and next to it, a dining table. These guys really like lamps, you think to yourself, eyes glancing at a small lamp on the corner of the counter. “Water, please.”

Choso nods and you both turn in sync, him towards the cabinets and you to your left to look at the bar cart that’s placed in between the living room and the walkway to the kitchen. You gander at the alcohol, accessories, and the fancy, when-the-guests-are-here glasses. When Choso approaches from around the counter, he asks, “just water?” 

“My liver’s going to give out by tomorrow,” you cringe at the thought, tomorrow-you hungover, tired, and miserable. “But you do have all the ingredients for a mojito, and it is one of my favorite drinks.”

“Can I watch you make it?” You look at him and there it is again; his intense gaze, looking straight at you as if there was nothing else in the world that could keep you out of his sight. All you can do is nod. 

You grab the muddler, container of mint leaves, and rum; Choso reaches from behind you to grab the syrup and you both set the ingredients on the counter. He opens the fridge, grabbing ice and a container of cut strawberries. 

“Could these work?” He holds the container up.

You shrug, “haven’t tried that before.” 

You add the leaves to a tall glass as he grabs a cutting board and begins to cube the strawberries. You’re side by side working in sync but you can’t help but glance at the way his veins protrude from his forearm even when he’s relaxed, how muscular his arms look, the overhead lighting shading in the valleys of his forearm, making the muscle bulge in the light. Your chest tightens watching him glide the knife across the stem of a strawberry, angling the knife to cut the fruit into smaller pieces. Unlike him, you’ve been enjoying the secret glances you get at him rather than the blazing eye-contact. It’s a game you’re unsure he would participate in, an act you don’t want him to catch you in, a secret between you and yourself; In this moment the only person that gets to secretly admire the valleys of his muscles is you. 

Frankly, staring at Choso had already built up a demand of sexual frustration that you are taking out on the mint, extracting every last drop that you don’t notice when he slides the cutting board full of glistening, cubed strawberries towards you. You hope he doesn’t notice how much you’re torturing the mint, the creased leaves sticking to the glass. But you also hope he does.

He announces he’ll be back, departing from the counter and disappearing to the living room. You don’t want to turn back to follow him with your eyes, the desire bubbling inside you like a geyser. Instead, you can hear him shuffling, stop, then hear a record crackle as he lowers the needle. 

He’s back at your side, watching you intently split the batch of strawberries in two, adding them to their respective glasses, and smashing them as well. You can feel his quiet stare on your shoulder as the record begins to play. You almost laugh when the music floods the room; He’s queued slow songs, full of bass that have your body vibrating trying not to bop your head or move your body. The room is filled with honey, it radiates from the soft yellow lighting, it flows from the record player and sticks to every corner and has begun flooding to the ceiling until everything is tinted yellow. 

After adding ice, you reach for the double-sided jigger he pulled from one of the drawers, measuring the simple syrup on one side, pouring into the glass, and rum on the other side. 

“Oh, fuck, almost forgot,” he states, startling you in your state of thought about his body. He opens the fridge again, grabbing a lime and a half-consumed bottle of club soda. He slices the lime between his hands, handing one half to you to squeeze the juice out of. Your knuckles turn white at the intensity of the squeeze, all the frustration from his gaze, his confidence, his voice, traveling to your forearm. He hands you the other half for the second glass and then the chilled soda. After pouring, you give both the glasses a stir, sliding one towards him. 

He doesn’t waste time tipping the glass back and taking a sip. You have to divert your eyes to the dishwasher to not stare at the way his collar bones come into view and the way the tendons on his neck project. 

He exhales a quiet breath. “____, this is so fucking good,” he says, making your eyes switch back to him as the edge of your glass is steady on your lip, not quite ready to tip over. “I saw you pour in the rum but I can barely taste it.” Dangerous, he adds, grinning. God he’s almost making your eyelid twitch. 

You finally swallow back a sip. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You smile, amidst the warmth, the music, the soft lightening, his compliment striked out, making your cheeks warm; You have to look down out of even more embarrassment that he noticed a compliment so simple made you blush. 

Maybe the pent up nervousness has affected your depth perception because when you look back up, you swear he’s hovered closer. He holds the glass to his lips again, slowly indulging another gulp and staring directly into your retinas. His gaze is so fierce you can’t help but stare right back; His tattoo is in full view when he sets the glass back down, empty, the well of it rouge with strawberry nectar. The music that’s continued to play isn’t helping either, the way he has his arm extended on the counter, biceps stretched, isn’t helping at all. The record spins. The song that plays intros with a guitar solo which leads you back to him, thinking of his fingers strumming each individual string under the iridescent lights.

There’s a soft crackle as the record halts. It catches you off guard, eyes deflecting as you watch the needle automatically lift and levitate back to its place. 

From your peripheral, Choso hangs his head down before sliding his hand off the counter and turning to flip the record over. You chug back the rest of your drink quickly, head dipping forward again to admire his back and the way his white shirt hangs from his shoulders to his waist. You watch him take each side of the record in his palms and give it a flip. Then pick the needle between his fingers and hover it over the record. Then pause. Then turn. Then all of the sudden, he’s walking at a quicker pace, wider strides, back to you. You catch a last glimpse of his dark irises before he’s grabbed the side of your face and enveloped your lips in his. His lips are soft, cold from the ice, bitter from the alcohol, but tender nonetheless. His right hand travels underneath your coat to your hip, pulling your body forward by the flesh. He lightly sucks on your bottom lip before pulling away. Eyes blown out like supernovas, breathless, he says, 

“I had to kiss you,” the words spill from his lips in a rush like he was going to die if he didn’t get to taste your lips. 

You’re still both attached at the hip, a branch splitting in two, his breath reaching the tip of your nose, his eyes gazing into yours in expectancy. You lean forward once more and take his lips in yours again – If the universe were to collapse in on itself, what a way to go making out with Choso. This time, he kisses with fervor. His hand leaves your cheek to slide to the back of your neck and gently tangle his fingers in a handful of your hair. His tongue prods at your lips, pushing against the flesh to meet yours. The sensation of his tongue simultaneous with the way he drives your lip between his teeth has you letting out a whine into his mouth. At this, Choso’s nails dig into the flesh of your hip. 

Fuck, he softly groans, beginning to walk backwards and dragging you with him – you willingly follow like he’s holding you by the leash. You can’t let go of his lips the same way he can’t let go of his hands from your body; The feeling of him so close has sparked the fuse that’s slowly begun to inch closer and closer to the dynamite. The way he holds you steadily as you almost trip over his feet fills your chest with warmth, filling every crevice with color and making you lightheaded. You’ve wandered into a bedroom, his, unable to let go of each other and almost tumble in front of the bed. You slip your shoes off using your opposite ankle, detaching your lips from Choso’s to take a breath. He’s breathing loudly, his chest rising with every inhale, the hair on top of his head inflating and deflating when he exhales. 

“Kiss me again,” he breathes, waiting. And you do. He’s kissing you passionately, jaw wider, unafraid. His tongue slides on yours in passing as he slips his on the soft and slick side of your bottom lip. Your hands begin to stray over each other’s bodies and he pulls you close again. The tip of his hardening cock prods your groin shamelessly. He spins you both, your back now facing the bed; He lets his hands wander down from your neck to the zipper of your dress, dragging the fastener down the metal teeth agonizingly slow. Your dress loosens when the zipper reaches the end and he slides the fabric from your shoulders. You’re standing before him, almost naked, vulnerable. He’s staring and you have to look away, knowing the heat that flows through your temples isn’t because of the mojito. He backs you slowly onto the mattress, the lamp on the bedside table is a low light, the equivalent of a candle or the shade of moonlight when it’s a full moon, enough to keep the shadows of your bodies hidden but enough to appreciate what you can see and feel of Choso. With your distraction of the amount of lighting in the room, Choso has already lifted his shirt from his shoulders and hovers over you. His pale torso is wide, you can see the scales of his side abs, the shadows of his abdomen contrasted by the light. His right bicep is by your ear now and he leans down to meet your lips again. 

Your hands reach the stretch of his sweatpants, sliding your thumbs underneath the band and the rest of your fingers slide the pants down his thighs, he has to wiggle his leg to toss the fabric on the floor, making you laugh. He smiles. 

Choso brings his chest close to yours, reaching his hands underneath your back to unclasp your bra. It feels freeing when he takes the garment and tosses it to the side of you and begins to pepper kisses onto your neck. You’ve both fully committed now, there was no room for pointless mind reading; When he reaches your collarbone and sucks on the skin, you think you’d be stupid not to understand his feelings. He’s wandering down further, confident as he delves deeper into the anatomy of your body. He kisses the valley between your breasts, settling on a particular spot to leave a deep purple mark. He takes one of your tits in his mouth, licking the soft and sensitive skin around the nipple and suckling on the bud. The feeling leaves you whimpering, taking a handful of his hair and pushing him closer to your skin, trying to burrow him inside you forever. 

He doesn’t succumb to your pressure, traveling down the valley of your stomach to your underwear, he slides his palms up your thighs and slides the panties off. Without wasting any time, his mouth is on your core, licking whatever nectar has begun to seep out. A hot summer’s day and he divulges on an overripe apricot, sinking his tongue against the slit, sucking every drop of the juice out. You moan, the wonderful feeling is heat to your core, you can feel his cock harden against the flesh of your thigh. Yet, he keeps going, grabbing your leg to make sure it stays open for him. A part of you wonders if he’s even breathing, his mouth busy on the flesh of your cunt and his nose reaching your clit, you wonder if he’s too focused on your pleasure to breathe. His tongue peeks inside your walls, then retrieving to lick up your slit and repeating. You’re on the cusp of an orgasm, muscles clenching, when he takes his middle finger, sliding it in the soft flesh. His hands are cold, they cool you down like melting ice cubes when he touches you. The feeling of his tongue and finger is overwhelming but you don’t want it to cease. You feel an orgasm coming on, afraid if he adds another digit, you’ll combust like the death of a thousand stars. He looks up the hill of your body, watching the tendons on your neck stretch as you lean your head back against the covers, your stomach heaving up and down. Without a sense of control, he moans into you watching you relish every moment. He slips a second finger, a silence in the room between your soft whimpers all you can hear is a gush. He picks up his pace slightly, leaving you melting into the bed. Breathless and whimpering, your orgasm flows through you like thrashing waves kissing the shore. 

Every muscle in your body contracts and relaxes, you feel Choso plant soft kisses on your inner thighs. His lips are soft, relaxing you and bringing you back down to Earth. He floats back up to you, looking into your eyes, you can barely open them to look at him properly. He hovers over your lips, kissing them, softly sliding his tongue to yours, you can feel the moisture on his chin and practically taste yourself on his lips. 

You’re eager to continue, relish in his pleasure like he relished in yours. You don’t want the night to end, to conjunct at one point and diverge from each other forever. You’re trying to signal to Choso that you can continue, trying to kiss him harder, tougher. You reach your hand down to his briefs, the soft fabric slightly wet with pre-cum. He smiles into your teeth in response,

“You want to keep going?” He asks. You nod, licking his bottom lip. He begins to lift himself off of you, leaning over to his bedside to try and scavenge a box of condoms. 

You reach for his shoulder, “I got an implant,” smiling almost encouragingly. He laughs, it’s short but it sounds heavenly, a complete contrast from the brazen persona you’ve gotten to know tonight. He slides his briefs down his legs. He leans closer to the side of your head, driving your earlobe between his teeth. You take his divergence from your face to grab a hold of his cock and guide it to your entrance. 

The feeling of your orgasm is still remnant, overwhelming as Choso’s dick fills your walls but your desire to continue overrides any discomfort you have. He groans softly against the nape of your neck, dragging his hand to your hair and gently grasping a handful. You feel so good, he whines, his whimper a low and deep moan, sexy, leading you to close your eyes and drive your hips further against his. 

With each thrust, the movement between his push and yours makes a slush sound, sap spilling against him, it’s almost embarrassing, almost, because you swear it makes Choso’s cock even harder in you. 

Choso fucks you slow but hard. Venus observa. He feels so captured by your cunt, that he’s lost all other motor functions, his lips lazily and sloppily kiss and lick your neck, your face, your ear, he’s lost complete control, shamelessly groaning against your cheek. The sounds that come out of his throat only drive you closer and closer to your release. You whine and moan against his ear, his cock burrowed in you in perfect fit, your hands stray to his shoulders, then back, digging your nails in as he drives into you deeper. He reaches one of his hands down your stomach, pressing a finger against your clit and stimulating the area in rhythm with his thrusts. You clench your muscles against him in preparation for your orgasm, Fuck, he draws out the word, groaning at the feeling of your folds tightening against his dick. You orgasm almost simultaneously, you first, arching against him and yelping an ah! at the intensity. The air is popping like bright stars, you salivate at the feeling of spilling on his cock. Choso follows you, coming in you, adding to the complete mess he’s made. 

He stays on top of you, his skin warm against yours, until you feel him inhale and slide off your stomach. You open your eyes, retinas embracing the warm light; when you turn to face Choso, his eyes are closed, the light pours on him like golden nectar. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not asleep,” he smiles, breathing slowly and softly. You think for a moment, eyes drifting to his torso, tattoos etched at his ribcage and abs. 

“When’s the last time you had sex before this?”

He scrunches his nose, trying hard not to laugh. “Actually, I am asleep.” 

You chuckle breathlessly, “I’m only wondering, I promise. It’s been six months for me.”

“Ooh, close enough. Almost a year.” 

Your eyes widen slightly, trying to remain inconspicuous to the surprise. No offense to Choso, on the contrary, you think someone so attractive would have a line out the door. 

He opens his eyes, indigo retinas flooding with light and you can tell by the slow blinks, the way his eyes are almost squinting that he’s tired. “Have you ever been to the small restaurant on Second street, a couple blocks down? They have a great breakfast.” 

“I don’t think so, no.”

“We should go.” He pauses, awaiting a reaction, “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you smile, Choso’s fatigue drifting to you. 

He leans and hovers over you, clicking the lamp switch off and dragging his blankets over the two of you. Even with the light turned off, you can see the silhouette of his body, covered by the blankets, scooting closer to your warmth. You’re staring at the moon reflecting out the window, hearing Choso’s breathing slow, too tired to think a single thought. 

[nakachuchu]

Gyaru Girl | Denji (nsfw)

SYNOPSIS: Private College AU - He lets his horny thoughts take control after school.

READER: female

INCLUDES: teenage sex, unprotected sex, saliva sharing, motorboating, classroom sex, (sloppy) blowjob, (cute) tears, (kinda) dub-con, loss of virginity, school uniforms, tit-job, facial, hair pulling

WORDS: 1932

WRITTEN: 12/04/2022

NOTE: Thank you so much for requesting. I'm sorry the reader isn't as sweet or innocent (as she could have been) and that Denji is kinda ooc imo

Per usual, Denji couldn't keep his eyes off of you. They were roaming every inch of your body. He noticed you were wearing a bright blue thong that was pulled way over the band of your skirt and covered absolutely nothing whenever you bent over even a centimeter. Your bra matched your blue thong, as usual.

Your uniform was completely customized, which was completely against the rules. Your school sweater vest formed around your soft fits, while your white blouse was unbuttoned at the top and did nothing to hide your bright-colored bras or cleavage.

Your hair was piled up on top of your hair in exaggerated curls and you had bold lipstick and bright eyeshadow on.

But no matter how many times you had been set out into the hallway to stand for the entire class session because of your clothes, you were never kicked out of the school.

And why would you have been kicked out? Besides being ridiculously sexy and curvy, you were actually academically intelligent — which was something Denji was not. While you were on the honor roll, he was barely passing the class.

That was how he got stuck — rather, you got stuck with tutoring Denji after school. But, all he could focus on in the low orange light coming from the sun through the windows was the way your tongue swirled around a pink lollipop and how you sucked on it to not let your saliva drip down.

"Deeeeeeenji," you sang sloppily with an annoyed look on your face as your lollipop sloshed out of your mouth to point at him.

You held the lollipop, exaggerating each point every time you spoke a word. He was not hearing what you were saying though. He was focused on your lips, and only your lips.

"Denji!" you exclaimed. "You're not even listening, idiot. I've been blabbering about calculus for, like, ten minutes!"

"Y/N —" he started —

"What?" you lazily said, eyes half-lidded.

" — I cannot focus on whatever it is you're saying."

Your wrist went limp and the lollipop slumped down with your hand. You blinked a few times.

"Huh? Are ya fucking serious right now?" you questioned. "I didn't stay after school just so you could blank out! If ya don't pass your next test, it'll be my fault!"

His eyes were honed in on your tits and the way they were angrily bouncing around with the rest of your body. You were throwing papers and pens everywhere while the lollipop sloshed around in your mouth. Your words made no sense because of the lollipop hindering your speech, but it wasn't like Denji was paying attention.

"I want to fucking motorboat your tits," he blurted out.

You froze immediately in the middle of throwing a textbook over your head and out the window. You blinked a few times before his words caught up to you, causing your face to go incredibly hot.

"H-H-H-H-HUH?"

You dropped the textbook onto the floor and backed away, hugging your arms over your chest to cover your tits.

Denji smiled mischievously and stepped onto the table.

"D-Denji?" you questioned.

"If you let me motorboat you, I'll pay attention," he said.

"N-No way!"

"But if I fail again, then you'll be punished by the school," he said.

You couldn't believe the stupid Denji was actually making an intelligent scheme to motorboat you. You knew if you couldn't prove to help another student, you might get kicked out of the school or have your record stained because of how you chose to dress.

"F-Fine," you said, hesitantly moving your arms away.

Denji grinned and jumped off the desk, landing in front of you. His mouth was watery, fingers wiggling as they approached your tits. He grabbed them through your blouse, making you gasp. He rolled your soft tits around in his hands, squeezing them.

The sensation was completely new to you, making you tremble and pant. No one had ever touched your body before. No matter how you acted and how many people believed you were a total slut, you were actually a virgin. You took the lollipop out of your mouth to talk properly.

"D-Denji, I — I said motorboat, n-not t-touch," you stammered.

"Ah, I got too excited. Don't mind if I do, then," he said before face-planting into your tits and aggressively moving his head from side to side.

He was in heaven, breathing in your natural scent and your perfume at the same time while feeling your soft fat around his face.

You started to get worried when he stopped moving and it seemed like a long time since he had been positioned between your tits.

"D-Denji, are you alive?"

He suddenly shot up, scaring the shit out of you. His eyes were bright with a new sense of urgency and ambition.

"Y/N, are you a virgin? Obviously, I'm a virgin too, but I've watched way too many pornos and read too many nudies to know a virgin too."

Your face went redder than before. "That's — Don't say it like that! It's embarrassing!" you exclaimed.

"I've always liked you."

"What?"

"You're so pretty and you're way nicer when we're alone," he added.

"That's rude!"

He stood up straight, easily towering over you as he stared at you with a serious expression on your face. You had never seen Denji this serious before, and if you were being completely honest, it was making you a bit excited.

"Denji?"

"Let's have sex," he suggested.

He began walking forward, forcing you to walk backward. It didn't end until you were backed up against the teacher's desk. You stumbled and sat on top of the desk as Denji opened your legs and stood between them.

"S-Sex?" you repeated.

"Yeah," he said. "You're suuuper hot and you get my body pumping."

Maybe it was the many erotic mangas you read, but something about this situation was making your heart beat and your brain make all sorts of bad decisions for you.

"Ya — Ya think I'm hot?"

"Super," he said.

You pursed your lips for a moment. "O-Okay, but — " you emphasized, pointing your lollipop at him " — ya gotta be gentle! I mean it! Super gentle!"

Denji nodded excitedly. "I can do that!"

"Okay, then," you said shyly.

"First thing I see in pornos is that the girl's gotta get wet," he explained, casually flipping over your skirt. His face brightened up. "I was totally right! This thong barely covers anything."

His finger moved the thong to the side, and you jolted at the sudden touch. His finger slipped between your pussy lips, rubbing up and down. You were wiggling around for more friction.

"You're so wet," he said in awe, slipping a finger in.

You gasped and automatically leaned back, using your hands to prop you up on the desk. His finger felt different from your fingers whenever you masturbated at home, and you couldn't help but wiggle around. He pumped his finger in and out a few times before taking it out.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock. Your eyes widened at seeing a cock in real life for the first time. You had no idea how it was supposed to fit inside you.

Suddenly, he was bashful. He scratched his neck with one hand as he held his cock in the other.

"Do you — Do you think you could suck it?" he asked.

You blinked a few times before nodding. You got off the desk and onto your knees in front of Denji. You handed the lollipop to him and he placed it in his mouth. You gingerly wrapped your hands around his cock and licked the tip.

Just that alone almost made him cum. He couldn't believe the girl he always followed after was licking his cock.

You sucked on the tip slowly, looking up to see his reaction. His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration.

You began to suck, slowly putting more of him in his mouth. You only managed to do it a few times before Denji grabbed your hair and pulled you off.

"S-Sorry, but I was gonna cum if you kept doing that. Can I put it inside you now?"

You nodded shyly. "Gentle," you reminded.

He nodded. "Gentle."

Your legs trembled as you got up onto your feet. Denji turned you around and softly pushed you over the teacher's desk. He flipped your skirt up and spread your legs apart, tapping his cock onto your ass cheek.

Your heart was beating rapidly in anticipation, but you were also a bit nervous and scared. You felt the tip of his cock prod at your pussy, and you were thankful Denji was being slow and gentle like he promised.

Every so often, you'd gasp and he'd still in his movement. The corners of your eyes had tiny bubbles of tears. It was such a new, painful experience. He was being considerate, making sure to listen for any gasps of pain. It took a while for his cock to fully go inside you, and the two of you were already a bit tired from being in the same position for a while, but it was worth it in the end.

But once he noticed you were used to his cock and began moving, it was difficult for him to be gentle.

Your head was yanked back, hair tangled between his fingers as he pulled your hair back. His other hand was on your ass, fingers creating indents in the soft flesh.

Denji was not going to last at all, and honestly, he was fine with that. How could he possibly last when he was fucking a score like you? He never even imagined that you could make sounds like that, whimpering and moaning out his Denji and blabbering like an idiot while he fucked you raw.

"D-Denji," you whined.

"F-Fuck, I'm gonna cum — "

"N-Not inside! C-Can't inside," you moaned.

It took all his willpower to slide out of you. You whined from the sudden loss of his warm cock inside of you but were easily distracted when Denji grabbed your shoulder and gently nudged you down onto your knees.

"Can you use your tits?" Denji asked. "You know, around my dick?"

You nodded shyly, unbuttoning your blouse all the way to reveal your bright blue bra with flowers on them. You reached behind you and snapped off your bra, letting it fall to the ground. You slowly looked up at Denji to see that his mouth was agape, completely mesmerized by your pretty tits.

"Do you like them?" you nervously questioned.

He nodded frantically. "I love them!"

His response made you feel better about yourself, and you gently wrapped your hands around his cock and opened your mouth to suck on the tip of his cock before sliding the rest of his shaft into your mouth.

Denji was definitely going to cum soon with the way your tongue was moving. Like you, he was a virgin so he didn't know what was good or bad oral, but he thought you were doing a damn good job.

"Y-Y/N, I'm cum — "

Scared of the idea of cum shooting down your throat, you quickly took your mouth off. You squealed as his milky cum coated your face like frosting, dripping down onto your tits. You barely managed to close your eyes in time, but you were certain there was some stuck to your false eyelashes.

"Shit, s-sorry!"

Despite truly feeling sorry, his cock was still twitching and the sight of your face and tits covered in his cum made him giddy.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

A.= Angst. C.=Comedy/Crack. F.= Fluff. H.=Horror/Thriller S.= Smut/Suggestive.

💎 All/multiple members 💎

Reactions/headcanons/thoughts

Petnames they would use for their significant other F.

When they misunderstand and kiss your cheek; 95z - 96z - 97z - Maknae3 F.

Sexy costumes for Seventeen to wear C. S. 18+

Seventeen & matching/couple items F.

Seventeen with a physically fit s/o (request)

Spontaneous dates with Seventeen F. (request)

Seventeen with a producer/songwriter significant other (request)

Seventeen & recording booth blowjobs S. 18+

Thinking about; rock band Seventeen

🍒 Choi Seungcheol 🍒

All Seungcheol focused content can be found here.

😇 Yoon Jeonghan 😇

All Jeonghan focused content can be found here.

🦌 Hong Jisoo 🦌

Thinking about; getting choked by H.JS S. 18+

🐯 Kwon Soonyoung 🐯

X Marks the Spot 5.8k C. F. S. Friends to lovers. 18+

"You stupidly left the job of buying your costumes for the party down to Soonyoung, and now you're paying for it and have to spend the night watching him dancing in those little shorts initially intended for you."

🍚 Lee Jihoon 🍚

In The Studio Series. S. 18+

"You begin a wonderful, intensely pleasurable journey of fucking Lee Jihoon. And it all starts In The Studio."

⚔ Lee Seomkin ⚔

Forever in the rain with you 1.3k F. Established relationship.

"It's raining again and all you want is Seokmin back."

🐶 Kim Mingyu 🐶

All Mingyu focused content can be found here.

🐸 Xu Minghao 🐸

Heatin' Up 2.3k S. Friends to lovers. Superpowers au. 18+ (Request)

"You don't know that Minghao has the gift of mental manipulation, and then you discover that fact in the most interesting way."

🐢 Chwe Hansol 🐢

Pussy Whipped 5.3k S. 18+

"The first time you meet Hansol, it's at the rehearsal dinner for his dad's wedding to your boyfriend's mother. You take one look at the shy, awkward young man and decide that you want him in the most depraved of ways."

🍊 Boo Seungkwan 🍊

Starlight Eyes // Ao3 link 14k F. Friends to lovers.

"The past months together were supposed to be his way of forming a connection with you that would allow you to see him in a romantic manner like you had started to with Seungcheol last year. But it seemed it had just made Seungkwan's feelings burn brighter and his crush turns into something more."

Updated 09/09/2024

[staytheword]

thanks for the memories (lmly, part one)

thanks for the memories — part one of leave me loving you [→ part two] [series masterlist] [general masterlist]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!! if you interact with my writing please have a profile picture and short bio indicating your age. it helps me make sure you are not a bot!!

• han jisung x female reader, all other stray kids members are featured. other idols are mentioned briefly (ateez's wooyoung, itzy's yuna).

• non idol au, rock band au. drinking, partying, explicit language, explicit smut. oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, protected sex. (let me know if missed any warnings)

• word count: 11.6k

There’s only one person there, sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging his legs and looking around. For a second you think your eyes must be deceiving you, but it’s him. Han Jisung.

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @raspbinniecreme ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit

• story taglist: @mintquokka ; @is2cb97 ; @dirah-h ; @bokk-minnie ; @allypasta ; @strawberriesandknives ; @drhsthl ; @hyunjins-red-lights ; @thesunsfullmoon (hope I didn't forget anyone, sorry if I did I have an awful memory!)

• author’s note: hello ♡!! here is part one of the series! thank you so much for all the support you've given me, it's really heartwarming :') I really really hope you'll enjoy this (can you tell I'm incredibly nervous haha?)! the first part is a bit longer than expected because I wanted to divide it differently but thought it didn't work as well.... ahh. anyway. well. if you can please let me know what you thought ♡ lots of love!

The Jack of Trades is packed tonight, exactly the way you like it. It smells like smoke and booze, colored by neon lights and light projectors. The floor is sticky under the soles of your combat boots, and you have to zig zag through the crowd to make it to the bar. 

Tonight is one for the books.

The Trades is hosting the concert of a band who’s visiting your city on their tour. It’s a big deal. The band in question, Side Effects, got featured on Spotify and are really popular on social media. You don’t know them very well - you’ve only heard snippets of one of their songs - but judging from the amount of people squeezed in the Trades tonight, you’re representing a minority. 

Leaning against the bar, you catch Yuna’s gaze and raise two fingers. She gives you a nod, her long hair falling in elegant waves on her shoulders. You always order the same thing, anyway, so she doesn’t have to ask. A minute later she hands you two bottles of your favorite beer, which will go straight to your tab, and you give her a thumbs up of encouragement in return. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen the place so packed. You don’t think you ever have. It’s usually busy on Fridays, but never like this. You feel a rush of pride because the Trades is your favorite place on this godforsaken planet and you know how hard Changbin worked to get it back on its feet after the last owner deserted. 

Speaking about your best friend, he’s where you usually find him, near the mixing console where Jeongin is sitting, focused, his headphones placed on his bleached hair. Changbin is frowning at his phone, clearly busy with final preparations. It’s an important night for him. He lets out a relieved sigh when you hand him his beer. 

“Finally,” he lets out, immediately taking a long sip. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking. “You’re welcome, Bin.” 

He drinks for a few more seconds before answering you - his beer is already half empty. 

“Can you see this?” he laughs in disbelief. “The place is fucking packed.” 

“You did it, Bin,” you say, lifting your bottle to clink it against his. “You sold out the Trades.” 

He grins and cheers to your words before emptying the rest of his beer. When he’s done, he releases a content sigh and you take the empty bottle from his hands. 

“I feel better now. I was getting a little stressed,” he chuckles.

“Is everything ready?” 

He nods. “Yup. We should be able to start on time,” he says, checking his phone again. “Oh, fuck, no, why is Hyun texting me…”  You let your gaze wander around the room as Changbin starts to type frenetically on the phone. It’s hard to believe that only two years ago, this place was nothing. Changbin bought the place as it was falling to ruins. You still remember the first time he showed it to you, making a big show out of it. He put a blindfold around your eyes and everything - and when you saw the dusty floor, the bare walls and the half collapsed stage, you thought your best friend had gone crazy.

But Changbin had a vision. He wanted to create a place where there would always be live music, where people could come to dance to a band they liked just as much as grab a beer and listen to whoever was playing. You could see it in his eyes as he explained it to you. 

It took months just to undo the damage made by the past owners - the plumbing needed to be replaced, there was mold in the walls of the bathroom, and things you preferred to forget in the dressing rooms. Luckily, Changbin was one stubborn guy, and he pushed through at the times you would have easily given up. You did your best to be there for him. 

The months after that had been easier - choosing the color of the paint, the best material for the floor of the stage, the placement of the bar and tables. Changbin already had a name in mind, and you worked for weeks on a design for its logo. When Changbin gave his approval, he ordered a neon light in the shape of your logo, which now hung on the brick wall behind the stage. 

Since its opening, the Trades has seen its fair share of rising artists, of questionable singers and chaotic musicians. A few concerts sold well, and the place became a success. Now there are so many proposals Changbin actually has to choose who will play on the nights the Trades is open. 

Tonight, the place is sold out for a band that you’ve actually heard on the radio. Hyunjin, who works backstage, has a friend who has a friend - Side Effect’s guitarist. They were looking for a venue and the Trades ended up being mentioned in a conversation. When Hyunjin told Changbin, you were sure he was going to go into cardiac arrest. It cost him a small fortune to pay the band and promote the concert, but seeing tonight’s crowd, it was definitely worth the investment.

“He said three, Hyun - not, not two, three - I SAID THREE - HYUN?!” 

You turn to Changbin, eyebrow raised, and he sighs deeply, holding the bridge of his nose. His outburst has also gotten the attention of Jeongin, who has turned his chair towards him and pulled down his headphones. 

“We really need to get a better network for his place,” Changbin mutters. He nods at Jeongin. “Everything ready?” 

Jeongin nods. He doesn’t talk a lot but has an impressive work ethic. He’s also the best - the best - poker player you’ve met.  

“Y/N,” Changbin pleads, “can you please find Hyun and tell him three changes, not two. I need to stay here.” 

You nod and head outside the booth. Although you’re always here, you don’t officially work for the Trades - but you don’t mind helping. The place is your baby a little bit, too. You’ve been here since the start, helped with the renovations, and you’ve barely missed a concert. 

Holding on to your beer, you slip through the crowd towards the door leading backstage, Wooyoung letting you in with a sharp nod. You know the place so well you have no difficulty finding your way in the dark. You find Hyunjin standing behind the black curtains around the stage, hiding him from sight. He’s dressed all in black as usual, and blends with the shadows so well sometimes the only thing giving him away is the piercing on his eyebrow. 

“Did he say two or three?” he asks you. 

“Three,” you confirm. 

“Three,” Hyunjin repeats under his breath, turning to finish preparing his things. “Why not two like everyone else? Why does it have to be three?”

You smile to yourself at his muttering, and hand him your beer. 

“Take a sip, yeah?” 

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” 

He drinks as you peak around the curtain to see the stage. You love seeing it from this angle when it’s all ready to go, its floor covered in cords and various equipment. Side Effects has four members, each with their own microphone, and the drum kit is huge.  

You turn back towards Hyunjin who has a finger against his earpiece and hands you back the beer. You understand the signal - the show is about to start. The Trades goes dark and you hear the crowd scream in excitment. You turn on your heels to leave, as you don’t want to be in the way, but as you’re about to head back, you’re blocked by a few people passing in front of you. 

You can barely see them in the darkness, only a few lights giving a hint of their faces, but you can easily guess from their outfits and general energy that they’re the band. 

The first has short, ruffled dark hair and wears a tank top that barely covers his wide shoulders. He does not see you, clearly in his own mindspace. The second is slightly shorter, with shoulder-length black hair that is half tied behind his head. His eyes are wide and shine in the darkness. He notices you staring and nods at you quickly, munching nervously on his lower lip. 

The third barely glances at you. He wears a leather jacket and his hair covers his eyes. The last is smiling, visibly excited, and gives you a wink as he walks by - but he does it so quickly you can’t get a good look at him.

Each of them gives a different energy, none of which feels similar to what you would expect in a popular rock band, and just for that, you are intrigued. The crowd is going wild, a few people screaming at the top of their lungs, pushing towards the stage. The overall atmosphere is electric, tense like the few seconds before a raging thunderstorm.

You decide to stay for a song, making yourself small backstage. The first notes of an electric guitar rips through the Trades, soon followed by a rhythmic beat on the drums. When the voices join the melody, you find yourself moving, tapping your feet on the floor. The song is catchy, reminding you of the music you listened to when you were a teenager - in a good way - and their voices blend in perfect harmony. 

Tank top guy, who you understand is the main singer and guitarist, stands at the center of the stage, belting a high note in the microphone. To his right, the other guitarist smiles widely at the crowd, no longer looking nervous - and to the left, perfectly sporting the bad boy look with his leather jacket, the bassist does not even smirk. 

But really, it’s him you can’t look away from. Sitting at the drums, on the edge of his stool, slamming his sticks like a man possessed. He’s fast and aggressive, his face quickly dripping in sweat, his tongue slightly sticking out from between his teeth. In your entire life, you’ve never seen anyone play the drums like that. He’s probably barely visible behind the other members and the array of drums and cymbals in front of him, and yet he shines so bright you can’t take your eyes off him. 

You stand there as if struck by lightning for the rest of the song, and then for about half of the second. 

Who is that guy?

You see the appeal of Side Effects. Four handsome guys with an insane amount of charisma bombarding really good music like they were born for it - of course they would be popular. Around you, the audience is dancing and singing, clearly having fun. You feel proud for the Trades, and a little embarrassed that you didn’t give this band much attention before. They are good. 

You clap when the second song ends, listening attentively as they introduce themselves. The singer and leader is Chris. The other guitarist is Felix. At the bass is Minho, and behind the drums sits Jisung. 

You can’t help it - you stare at him. Jisung. He’s fidgeting like a child as Chris interacts with the crowd, happiness overflowing his eyes. He plays with his drumsticks like they’re the extensions of his fingers, which you don’t doubt is true. As Felix says something about an upcoming EP, Jisung leans down to drink some water, and as he looks up, your eyes meet.

He doesn’t react, and for a second you think he can’t actually see you in the dark - but then, he smiles. 

A heart-wrenching, life-altering smile. 

You can almost feel your legs wobble, but really, you are too shocked to move. You just stare back like an idiot until he looks away. 

How can a guy be so goddamn magnetic? 

The next song starts and you try to catch your breath. It’s hard to do so as he plays right next to you, the muscles of his arms tensed, his entire body jolting as he pounces on the drums. He’s still smiling, but he’s focused. You breathe out slowly. 

When you think you can stare at him in peace, he turns his head for a second and winks at you. 

It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You take a step backwards, clearing your throat, and look around nervously. That’s when you see Hyunjin, who is smirking at you. You give him a glare and he playfully winks at you. 

You make sure to give his arm a good slap before you head back towards the booth to go back with Changbin, your legs a little shaky. 

You’ll watch the concert from a distance.

People often talk about the calm before the storm, but you prefer the one that comes afterwards. The latent electricity, the echoes of screams. You stand in the middle of the Trades, your ears ringing in the eerie silence. The entire audience has left, the stage is empty. 

You stand among the staff, your shot glass lifted as Changbin ends his speech. He has a proud grin illuminating his face, his eyes shining like stars - you cheer with the others to the night’s success, clink your glass against Hyunjin’s and drink. People disperse to finish cleaning up or to get home, but you linger next to Changbin. You throw your arm around his waist as he finishes talking with Wooyoung, and once the bouncer tells you both goodnight, you pull Changbin into a hug. 

“Congratulations, Mr. Seo,” you tell him. “I’m proud of you.” 

He hugs you back, chuckling, his breath making your hair dance. In the way his body leans against yours, you can feel how both happy and exhausted he is. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he breathes. 

You shake your head, leaning back, gently tapping his cheek with your palm. 

“Of course you couldn’t.” 

He pulls his tongue at you as someone calls his name. You both turn towards the voice. A young guy with dark hair is smiling at Changbin, walking towards you. Wearing a pair of jeans, a white button-up and a relaxed tie, he looks both casual and fancy. Behind him are four people you immediately recognize.

Side Effects. 

You try not to stare, stepping away from Changbin.

The main singer, Chris, looks completely spaced out although he’s smiling politely. Felix looks like he’s still on his adrenaline high, bouncing slightly, looking around in curiosity. The bassist, Minho, remains impassive, but he perhaps looks a little bored. The drummer, Jisung - will you ever be able to forget that name? - is on his phone and does not see either of you. 

“Mr. Kim,” Changbin says, extending his hand. “I thought you would’ve left by now.” 

“Not without saying thanks,” he replies, shaking Changbin’s hand. You conclude he’s the band’s manager. “Call me Seungmin, yeah?” 

He looks at the main singer and nudges him with his elbow. 

“Right,” Chris smiles. “Thanks for having us. We had a good time.” 

“Yeah, it’s a really cool place you got,” Felix, agrees. 

They all give smiles and thanks, shaking Changbin’s hand. Your best friend’s grin cannot leave his face. You stand a little behind him, observing the exchange. It’s hard not to gawk. They’re still wearing their stage outfits, and although they look different without the spotlights, you can still feel their energy. 

“We’re having a little after-party,” Seungmin explains. “Wanted to extend an invitation.” He glances at you. “You and your staff, of course. Anyone who wants to join.” 

“Ooh,” Changbin chuckles. “Hell, why not.” 

Seungmin nods. “I’ll text the address then. See you in a bit.” 

As they walk away, you exchange a long look with Changbin. You wait until they’re out of sight to gasp loudly, holding on to each other like you’re going to fall on your knees. 

“Did they just -” Changbin exclaims. “Did we just get invited to an afterparty?”

“I think we did,” you whisper frenetically. “I think we fucking did.”

“Holy shit!” 

This is the first time anything like that has ever happened - usually, if there are after parties, they take place inside the Trades, and it’s with bands or musicians that aren’t very well known. Those who are, even just a little, often leave as soon as their performance is over.

“You know what that means, right,” Changbin giggles. “Not only did they stick around, but they took the time to thank us, and then invite us? What the fuck!” 

You laugh hysterically, throwing your arms around Changbin’s neck. You take the time to scream and dance for a minute or two, but then there’s stuff to do. You help your friend settle a few things, leaving the rest in Yuna’s safe hands, who’s not in the mood to party and has worked at the Trades since its opening. 

There’s five of you going to the party, so you split two taxis and get to the address Seungmin texted Changbin. It’s already really late when you get there, but you don’t care. This sort of thing never happens and you are going to enjoy it. Besides, if it allows you to steal a few more looks at that hot drummer, you won’t complain. 

The place, which you guess is the house the band rented for their time in town, is huge and already filled with people. Nobody asks who you are, and you just join the party like you were there from the start. Changbin is able to find Seungmin, who guides you to the kitchen where there’s a scandalous amount of beer available. You grab a bottle and cheer with your friend. 

It’s going to be a good night.

You’re going to lose the game, that much you know - but you’re not going down without a fight. If only your eyes weren’t burning from the exhaustion and the booze, you might’ve stood a chance. But then again, your opponent is good. 

Minho has brushed his hair away from his face. His eyes drill into yours, and while they are beautiful, they are, right now, your worst enemies. 

You squint as the people around you hold their breath - and after a few more seconds, you can’t take it. 

You blink. 

The small audience lets out an audible sigh. Minho gives you a smirk. 

“Well played.” 

You wave your hand, rubbing your teary eyes. You’re not proud, but you can admit defeat, so you nod at him and he pats your shoulder. You'll get him another time. Or not.

It’s incredibly late and horribly early. You’ve been drinking - not too much, but a fair amount. The party is slowly calming down. There’s still music playing, but it’s faint. People are no longer dancing and drinking but rather lounging and chatting. A few are laying on the floor or on the couches, asleep. Someone is snoring nearby. A lot of people have left. Most, in fact. But not you. 

You’re still here and you’ve just had a staring contest with Lee Minho - which you’ve lost. You shake your head, letting it fall against Changbin's shoulder. He is half asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open, his head secured against a fluffy cushion. In a minute or two you’ll lose him, but that’s fine - you plan on just curling up next to him and sleeping too. 

Except, as you’re about to do exactly that, you spot Han Jisung. 

You haven’t seen him much during the night. Not long after you arrived, you saw him flirt with a girl and he disappeared afterwards - you can guess the rest. Not very surprising coming from a member of a rock band. Of course he would have groupies. He was handsome, talented, charismatic. A flirt, too, apparently. Not like you cared, and certainly not like you expected him to remember the wink he gave you - if it had even been intentional. At this point, you’re convinced he didn’t even see you, that you were just a faceless shadow observing him from backstage.

So much for the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. 

But he’s there now, walking towards the kitchen, wearing distressed jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair is all over the place, his steps a little uneven. You stare at him as he crosses the room - he’ll never see you, anyway. 

Changbin's chest is rising and falling regularly now, and you glance at him to confirm he’s fallen asleep. You smile tenderly, pat his cheek, and decide to head to the bathroom before you also get some rest. You head to the hallway, stepping over a few bodies, smiling at Jeongin who’s still playing DJ although the music is at such a low volume you can barely hear it. You ruffle his hair as you pass him. 

You step out of the bathroom, thinking to yourself you should get a glass of water, and look up. A few steps away, leaning against the wall, is Han Jisung. 

He looks up at you and smiles, his hands in his pockets, his eyeliner a little smudged.  

“There you are.” 

You’re too surprised to say anything at first, and he chuckles. 

“What, you think I forgot about you?” 

You blink, trying to gather your thoughts. “Excuse me?” 

He smiles, tilting his head a little. “It’s you. You were backstage earlier.” 

“How do you know that? It was dark.” 

“Not that dark.” 

You chuckle, maybe a little nervously. You’re a bit too drunk and tired for this conversation. He just looks at you in response, and you know it deep inside your heart. This guy is dangerous. Dangerously attractive, no doubt. But also just dangerous - the kind to consume your heart in a single bite and not leave a crumb. Exactly what you should avoid.

You cross your arms, looking back at him. “If you knew I was here, why didn’t you come earlier?” 

He shrugs. “I thought you’d look for me.” 

“There were like a hundred people here,” you sigh. “And when I saw you, you looked a little busy.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. His smile - fuck, that smile. Wide and bright and heart-shaped. Fuck. 

“Oh, that,” he says. “Yeah. She was all over me, what kind of gentleman would I be to refuse?” 

You snort. “For some reason I can’t buy into the whole gentleman thing.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Do I need to remind you you’re a rockstar?” 

“Hm. I would have just said musician or “some guy in a band”, but I’ll take rockstar.” 

You stare at each other, and you can’t explain it, but you both burst out laughing. Surely, it’s the booze. It has nothing to do with the electricity between you, like you’ve known each other for years, like this is far from being your first ever conversation. What the hell is this? 

Is this what people mean when they talk about instant connection? All you’ve known is friendship and trust built by experience and bonding. Not that it’s a bad thing - on the opposite - but this is new for you. 

You cover your face with your hands, shaking your head, and Jisung approaches you slowly, his eyes filled with sparks. 

“I love your laugh.”

“Oh, come on,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. 

You turn to lean against the wall, placing your hands behind your back, and he follows your move, barricading you between the wall and him. He smirks. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“It’s not that, rockstar,” you smile at him. “I just know guys like you. Flirts. Fuck boys.” 

“Aoutch.” 

“Like you don’t know it.” 

He doesn’t refute it, his eyes lingering on your face, your nose, your lips, your body. Most of all, your lips. You’re tired and drunk and he smells good - it would be easy to reach out, but you won’t let yourself do it. You want to see what he will do.

And just like that, like he’s reading your mind, he leans in. Your breath hitches but you put a finger against his chest. 

“Hm. Haven’t you had enough for one night?” you tell him mischievously. 

He groans, and he’s so close to you his breath caresses your lips. 

“It’s you I wanted from the start.” 

It’s a terribly attractive thing to say, and you try really hard to ignore the fact that you’re turned on. You attempt to focus on little things to take your mind off his smell and his warmth - the fact that your mouth is dry, that a strand of your hair is tickling your ear, that your feet feel heavy in your boots after an entire day in them. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” you whisper. 

“All the more reason,” he grins. 

He reaches to put said strand of hair behind your ear, removing your itch, and it makes you almost dizzy - so much that you barely see him as he leans towards you again. Your finger, still pointed at his chest, pathetically bends, and your hand ends up sprawled against his shirt. His breath smells like apple flavored liquor. He kisses you. 

You know you’re just some random girl for him, one he’ll probably never know the name of, one of many he’ll have made out with on his tour. You know you’re just that, and you should have enough self-respect to push him away and not become yet another groupie on his fuck shelf, but he kisses so well you forget all of that. 

Or, well.

You know it, but you choose to forget it. 

Han Jisung’s lips taste like chaos. He kisses the exact opposite way he plays the drums, languidly, longingly, almost carefully - he is patient and delicate, yet it is clear he knows what he wants. You wrap your arms around him, and he pushes you against the wall, kissing you deeper. 

His hands are in your hair and he slides his tongue against yours, and you moan at the feeling of it, and in this instant you would let him do whatever he likes to you. 

You said it. 

Dangerous.

You are vaguely aware someone approaches you and stops next to you, but Jisung is still kissing you like it’ll never happen again - and it never will - so you don’t really pay attention to it. It is only when Jisung lips leave yours that you touch back with reality, realizing the voice has been calling his name repeatedly. 

“What is it, man?” Jisung asks, his voice low and annoyed. 

You’re still hidden in his arms, feeling drunker than you’ve ever been. You can barely open your eyes. 

“Sorry,” the voice says. It’s Chris. “But we need to go, like, now. Felix isn’t feeling good.” 

You glance at Jisung to see his face has changed. He looks tense, almost sad. It’s a surprising sight and it stirs something inside of you. 

Jisung gives Chris a nod. “I’ll be there in a second.” 

Chris leaves, and Jisung turns back to you. 

“Sorry, baby. Gotta go.” 

He gently lifts your chin with his fingers and gives you a last gentle kiss. Your legs can barely keep you up. 

Just like that, he walks away and disappears. You know it’s the last you’ll see of him tonight - and probably ever. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but there’s nothing you can do.

You trace your lips with your own tongue. 

Apples.  

You drag your feet back to Changbin, who is still asleep, and you sit beside him. Feeling disoriented, like your whole life has been taken apart and built back sideways, you wrap yourself around him, close your eyes, and let sleep steal you away.

The barista slides the two full cardboard trays of coffee on the counter and you thank him with a smile. It’s heavy and impractical, but luckily you only have to go next door. 

As much as you love the Trades during the night, when it’s packed and loud and stifling, you adore it during the day. If the weather is nice, like today, the doors remain open to let the fresh air in, and there’s a spot at the booths, where you usually sit, that catches the light just right. You head there first, leaving your bags and your own coffee, and then you make a round around the place to give the other cups to the people you meet. 

Jeongin is making repairs on his sound console and he accepts the coffee with a nod. Andy, the janitor, takes the next one, and soon you’re left with just one. You head upstairs to Changbin's office, and seeing that the door is closed, you knock. It’s the code everyone knows - an open door means you can go in. A closed one means knocking.

You wait for a few seconds, and when the door opens, Changbin only lets his head through - you see there’s someone in there with him. Soft brown hair and a black coat. Could be anyone. You just hand him his coffee, and he thanks you with a smile. You’re curious to know who he’s meeting, but you’ll just ask later. 

That’s the beauty of your friendship with Changbin. There’s absolutely nothing complicated about it. Since day one, you have been completely open with each other about everything, so ambiguity has never been an issue. Nothing ever lingers - you just talk about it. Good things, bad things, uncertain things. 

It’s an affectionate friendship, but it’s also a brutal one. You both have strong personalities, and everyone expects you to clash, and you do. But you do it in a way that is so open and true it never results in actual conflict. 

Changbin keeps you steady, Changbin knows you, and Changbin learns with you. To be human, to do better - but also to accept you’ll always have your flaws. 

Whistling a Side Effects song - it’s been stuck in your head - you head back to your usual booth and sit down. You take off your jacket, open your laptop and plug in your headphones. 

It’s difficult for you to find places where you manage to be productive when working. Your own apartment is often too warm; cafés are a nightmare; but the Trades, however, is perfect. There’s just an energy that gets your creative juices going, and you’ve been enjoying it as much as you can. 

You take a long sip of coffee and get to work. 

About twenty minutes later, you see Changbin crossing the room towards the main entrance with someone - the person he was in a meeting with, obviously. You recognize Seungmin, Side Effects’ manager. They seem to be on friendly terms, so you’re wondering why they met. You can’t resist the temptation to take off your headphones to try and listen, but they’re too far away. 

It’s been two days since the party and you can’t think about much else, although you keep telling yourself it’s pathetic. Still, you’re intrigued. You thought the band would’ve left town by now. Clearly, they haven’t.  

Changbin appears a minute later, sitting down on the booth in front of you with a smirk you can only describe as ecstatic. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Tell me you still have the file for your poster,” he tells you. 

“Always,” you frown. “Why?”

He scrunches his nose and leans towards you. 

“Because you’ll have to add something to it. Encore.” 

“Wha - WHAT? WHEN?!” 

“In two days.”

“TWO DAYS?” 

Changbin explains that the band’s next scheduled performances have been canceled due to a flood in the venue. Since their tour would only resume a few days later, they had some free time ahead and decided to stay in town. 

They offered to perform another time at the Trades because they loved the place, and Changbin certainly wasn’t going to refuse. A last-minute show on a Wednesday would be a challenge to organize, but it could be done. It would be done.

Giving Changbin a tight hug with a squeal of excitement, you immediately get to work on the design of the poster announcing the new date. The rush of adrenaline is inducing a rush of inspiration, and you have it wrapped up in a few hours. 

Once you’ve sent the file to the printer, you lean back against the booth and realize you’re hungry. You remember you still have leftovers in your fridge, so you decide to head home. You throw your bag around your shoulder but leave your headphones around your neck for when you’re outside. It’s quiet in the Trades, but you glance around the room to see if anyone is there so you can say goodbye. 

There’s only one person there, sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging his legs and looking around. For a second you think your eyes must be deceiving you, but it’s him. Han Jisung. 

He’s wearing grey jeans covered in patches of different patterns. His oversized red and black striped sweater is torn here and there, his dark hair in disarray. To complete his look, he wears a thin leather choker around his neck and a variety of bracelets on his wrists, and his nails are painted pitch black. 

Whatever he might say, he does look like a rockstar. 

You don’t know if you know him well enough to just approach him like that, but you figure that his tongue being in your mouth less than forty hours ago must count for something, so you take a few tentative steps towards the stage.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. 

He turns his head in mild curiosity, and once he sees you, grins widely. 

“I was hoping to find you here,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Sure you were.”

“Sorry. It was too easy,” Jisung chuckles. 

“Seriously, why are you here?” 

He shrugs, the heels of his leather boots hitting the stage as he keeps swaying his legs. 

“I was really bored, so I took a walk. Ended up here, and the doors were wide open,” he explains. 

He looks up to the ceiling, a strand of hair brushing his forehead and falling in front of his right eye.

“I love to see venues when they’re empty. They’re this special feeling about them.”

“I know what you mean,” you agree with a smile. “It’s calm, but there’s still… this lingering tension.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Jisung nods, looking back at you, eyeing you up and down. 

You feel a little casual compared to him in your baggy jeans and crewneck, your hair tied behind your hair with a claw clip, not wearing any makeup. You must look like a different person from the other night, but Jisung does not make you feel self-conscious. He looks at you exactly the same, with an intrigued gleam and a charming smile. 

“Where are you heading?” he asks. 

“Home,” you reply. “To eat.” 

“Ooh,” he chants, jumping down from the stage. “I’m in.” 

You stare at him in disbelief. 

“What?” 

“I kinda feel like a cheeseburger, though,” he states, walking towards you with purpose. He stops in front of you. “I’m paying.” 

You open your mouth to argue with him, but then you realize you don’t want to. Free food and pretty entertaining company? Why not. You nod.

“Lead the way,” he says with a grin.

In a couple of steps you’re standing outside under a timid sun. You point to the left, and Jisung follows you. 

“So what do you do here, exactly?” he asks, nodding towards the Trades. 

“Nothing,” you say. “I don’t work there, not really.” 

He frowns. “So why are you -”

“Changbin is my oldest friend. I helped him put the place together, and it’s kind of just… where I hang out. I designed the logo, though.” 

“You did that?” Jisung wonders, pointing to the sign. 

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he whistles. “Looks really cool.” 

You thank him with a smile. Although you’re always hard on yourself when it comes to work, you are proud of what you did for the Trades. Not that you would have accepted anything less than perfection, anyway. 

“I did the posters for your show, too,” you add. 

Jisung gives you a smile that you would call impressed, and you feel a tang of pride in your heart. 

“So you’re a graphic designer?” 

“Yup.” 

“Cool. Tell me about it.” 

You have no idea why he’s interested, but you indulge him, telling him more about your work as you head towards the closest diner. It’s not a fancy place, far from it, but they do have the best cheeseburgers in the neighborhood, in your opinion. Jisung doesn’t look like the fancy type, anyway. As you watch and listen to him, you feel like he’s more the type of person that can adapt to every environment they’re in. 

Being constantly on the road as he is, you guess it must be a good quality to possess. Has he always been like that, though? Or is it something he picked up along the way to make it easier? 

Something about him just tickles your curiosity.

You sit down on a booth of worn black leather and the waitress brings you the menu. Jisung doesn’t look at it - just at you. 

“Were you born here?” 

“Yes.”

“You never left?” 

“Nope.” 

“Not even for traveling?” 

“Just once. Went to London.” 

“For what?” 

“Fun.” 

“Hm.” 

“Are we done with the interrogation?” 

To your surprise, Jisung lets out a loud laugh, sliding his hand through his hair. 

“Sorry. I meet so many people, and I rarely have the chance to get to know them. This is new.” 

“So I’m the first human being apart from your band and management you are able to have a conversation with in what, weeks?”

“Months.” 

“No pressure, then.” 

His smile stays on his face, large and luminous. You kind of like it. The waitress comes back to take your order, and you ask for two cheeseburgers, two sodas, and a large plate of fries to share. 

Jisung keeps asking you questions. You tell him about how you met Changbin - kindergarten - what was the best concert of your life - not his - and what your favorite font is - depends on the day.  

You get your food not long after, and as you pick up your burger, you decide to turn the table on him a little. Only fair, right? 

“So you’ve been bored and wandering around. What about the rest of the band?” you ask as he takes a bit of his burger. “What have they been doing?”

“Sleeping,” Jisung answers with his mouth full. He swallows. “Fuck, this is a good burger.”

“Must be grateful for the rest,” you say.

Jisung shakes his head. “Not all of them. Minho can’t stay still to save his life. He’s climbing up the walls already.”

You laugh in disbelief. “Really? He looks so… calm.” 

“He’s so weird,” Jisung laughs. 

You hear the tenderness in his voice, and you catch a glimpse of the bond that must be linking them. You felt it, even when they were on stage. They were more than a band - they were brothers. 

“And the other two?” you ask, simply out of curiosity. 

“Chris is fine. He doesn’t say it but he’s glad to be able to stay in. Work on music. Watch movies.” 

Jisung’s eyes darken. 

“Felix… sleeps. A lot.” 

You can hear something there, but you don’t want to ask. It’s none of your business, after all. Still, Jisung explains.

“He’s been through shit recently. So it’s good he can sleep.” 

You smile softly. “You’re really close, right? The four of you.”

“Yeah,” Jisung nods. “With Seungmin, too.” 

The softness on his face is new, but it does not last too long. Quickly, his smirk comes back, his eyes full of mischief. 

“You like video games?”

You expect Jisung to bring you back to the house where the party took place, but instead he walks you to an apartment building. He explains that the house would’ve been too expensive for a longer stay - it’s not like they were millionaires - so they found this place on Airbnb for cheap. It’s smaller, but more than big enough for the four of them. The rest of the crew shared another place a few blocks over. 

“The four of us lived in a shoebox for the longest time while we were in our garage phase,” Jisung says as he closes the door behind you. “So this is luxurious.” 

He doesn’t bother to give you a tour, but you don’t care. Leaving your bag in the hallway, you follow him to the kitchen. 

“That was a long-ass walk you took.”

Minho is glaring at Jisung, wearing two oven mitts and a neon pink bucket hat. The kitchen smells delicious, and you glance at the oven to try and see what is cooking in there. 

“Found a stray cat,” Jisung says, waving at you. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Cute of you to act like it wasn’t you that was lost.”

“I wasn’t lost. Just bored.” 

Minho stares at you - or, well, you think he is. His eyes are completely hidden under his hat and his hair. He raises an oven mitt towards you, and you have to guess he’s pointing.

“Staring contest girl.” 

“Not the worst nickname I’ve heard,” you pout.

“What was?” Jisung asks. 

“You’ll never know.” 

Minho chuckles. 

“Made some meat pies if you’re hungry.” 

“Thanks, bro.” 

You frown as he grabs a plate to get a slice. 

“But you just ate -”

You stop and shrug. One thing you’ll never judge or pretend to understand is how a person’s stomach works.

Minho and Jisung start whispering between themselves, and it seems like you hear Felix’s name, so you give them some space. In the meanwhile, you wander around the apartment, check out the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and then enter the living room. It’s a cozy space with a large sectional and a huge TV. You glance around for a good thirty seconds before you notice there’s someone sitting in a window nook. He hasn’t seen you, his eyes focused on his computer. Piled up on his head is a beanie, a pair of headphones and a hoodie. Chris. Jisung’s description was accurate. 

“Don’t mind him,” Jisung tells you as he reappears next to you. “When he’s like that he’s not conscious of the outside world. You could be walking around naked he wouldn’t notice.” 

“Sounds like a theory you’ve tested before.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

You both plop down on the couch, laughing, and Jisung turns on the console. He hands you a controller and you start to play Crash Bandicoot, not really talking. You enjoy taking your mind off things, not really thinking about the situation you are in. Why are you here, after all? There’s no clear reason apart from the fact that you like Jisung. But you aren’t the type to question things too much - most of the time you prefer to just follow the path life takes you on. 

For now it’s taken you here. 

You spend the next few hours playing and eating snacks. At some point, Felix emerges from his room and sits on an armchair, dizzily staring at the screen. He looks exhausted, snuggled in a hoodie that is way too big for him, black hair curling around his ears. 

When your eyes get tired Minho takes your place, playing a few games with Jisung as you text with Changbin. He reminds you you’re supposed to go to a birthday party that night, and you let out an irritated sigh. 

“Fuck me,” you hiss through your teeth, resisting the urge to throw your phone across the room. 

“Sure,” Jisung grins at you. 

When you glare back, he chuckles. 

“What’s up?” 

“I have to go to this thing tonight. Birthday party.” 

“Hm. Sounds fun.” 

“Really not. The girl is a nightmare but she can’t, for the life of her, understand we’re not friends anymore, and that Bin will never be interested in her pathetic ass. All she does is show off how much money she has.” 

“Wow,” Minho laughs. “Now I kinda want to meet her.” 

“Good idea,” Jisung nods. “We’re not doing anything tonight, anyway, and I don’t know for you guys, but I don’t want to spend my entire night shut up in here. Let’s go.” 

You shake your head. 

“No way.” 

“Think about it, Y/N,” Minho says, placing his elbows on his thighs. “Bringing us as guests would shut her right up.

“And I need to get really drunk,” Felix states, all of a sudden. 

It’s the first words he’s spoken since he got out of his room, and while you look at him in surprise, the other two seem used to it. 

“Then let’s do it,” Jisung claims, clapping his hands.

“I have to go home and change, though. If I show up like that she’ll start a rumor I’m homeless or something,” you sigh. 

Jisung waves his hand. “That’s fine. I’ll come with you and help you choose a killer outfit. You guys meet us there, yeah?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get Chris when he emerges from the deep,” Minho nods.

Jisung takes your hand and lifts you off the couch. He guides you back to the hallway and slides on his boots. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say. “We can meet there.” 

“I wanna see your place,” Jisung simply responds.

Maybe you should be freaked out or annoyed at the game he’s playing. You know he’s just trying to get to know you, that you’re an adventure for him, but it also feels like he wants to assimilate as much as he possibly can before time runs out. It’s cute, but it’s also unnerving. What will he do with all this knowledge of you, once he leaves? Will he forget? Will you become a fond memory, or one that will fade away over time? 

You shouldn’t indulge him, because you’ll probably end up getting hurt. But at the same time, it’s stimulating for you, too. Letting someone in. Letting him see who you are, every part of you, knowing it’s temporary. Then he can walk away, carrying pieces of you. There’s a beauty to that you can’t yet grasp. 

When you arrive at your place, you let him walk around to look at what he wants, heading for your room. It’s not a big apartment, nor is it in perfect shape, but you made it yours. You and Changbin took the lease most particularly for the bathroom, which is more spacious than any you’ve seen in the city. In exchange, both of your bedrooms are kind of tiny, but it’s not like you have people over very often. If you do, it’s agreed you’ll find another place to stay for the night. 

You remove your clothes of the day, changing your underwear and slipping on a short leather skirt. You’re zipping it up when the door of your room opens on Jisung, who strolls in like he lives there. 

“What the fuck?” you let out, covering your chest - you’re only wearing a bra.

“You told me to make myself at home,” Jisung smirks, sitting down on your bed, sliding his hand on your comforter. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Come on,” he says. “You’re almost dressed already. Love the skirt. Is this the shirt you’re planning on wearing?” 

He lifts the piece of clothing, a black tank top that laces on the front, and hands it to you. You snag it from his hand, slipping it on swiftly. He eyes you up and down. 

“What about accessories?” 

He stands up, walking to your dresser, and opens your jewelry box. You stare at him, absolutely mind blown at his behavior. 

“Oh. Love that. That’s hot,” he says, handing you a lace choker you haven’t worn in ages. 

“Having fun playing dress-up, are we?” you laugh. 

He winks at you, and proceeds to choose the rest of your outfit. Cherry earrings, silver rings, and loose hair. Once he’s done, he twirls you around, biting his lip.

“Perfect,” he says, slipping a hand on your waist to pull you close. “Thoroughly fuckable, if I might say so.” 

“Thanks?” you answer with a giggle. 

“Y/N,” he breathes, taking a step towards you. “C’m’here.” 

Before you can answer anything, he plunges his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell, and places a kiss there that sends shivers all over your body. You close your eyes.

“Jisung…” 

“It’s not the outfit,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve thought about fucking you all day.” 

You do your best not to let out a moan right there, instead biting your lip hard as he keeps kissing your neck. 

“Jisung,” you breathe. “I just got dressed.” 

“I don’t want you to undress.” 

You frown as he pushes you towards the bed. You lay down, eyes on him. Outside the blue is fading to black, enveloping the room in a heavy purple, and there’s something earnest and intimate about it. You’ve been on edge ever since that kiss he gave you - and you’ve so desperately wanted to know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been interrupted. 

You have somewhere to be, but you don’t care. Jisung is at your apartment and visibly also wants to pick up things where you left them off. You are not going to waste the opportunity. 

Jisung’s hands spread your legs, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on your thighs. 

“Just want to get a taste,” he mutters. 

Your breath hitches as he pushes up your skirt, lips brushing your skin. He makes his way between your legs, finally setting his mouth on your underwear. At this point you are writhing around him, desperate for a direct touch. 

“Getting wet for me so fast,” he breathes. “How can I resist you?” 

“No one talked of resisting,” you answer in a sigh. 

He chuckles. “Fair point. Can I?” 

You nod, and he draws your underwear aside, leaving you exposed to his eyes. You spread some more for him, pulling up your skirt, and he does not waste another second. His lips embrace your wetness, his tongue swirling around your clit. You let out a shaky sigh, your fingers reaching for his hair. Your thoughts wander, far away from your reach, as you just enjoy Jisung’s caresses. 

He hums against you as you roll your hips against his mouth. It’s working wonders for you, your pleasure building quickly. 

“That’s good, baby,” he breathes. “Make yourself come in my mouth.” 

You’re hot, your body tense, Jisung making out with your cunt. His tongue makes a quick work of it, and you come not long after. You shiver delightfully, and it takes you a while to come down. As you do, Jisung gently replaces your underwear where it was, contemplating the drenched fabric with a satisfied smile. 

“Now you can walk around all evening in your soaked underwear, courtesy of me, and I’ll have your taste on my tongue,” he says in a low voice, his smirk all the right kinds of dirty. 

You’re still riding the high of your orgasm, so you don’t really find the right words. You just smile at him.

“You’re fucking insane.” 

“Just trying to enjoy the time I have.”

The taxi drops you off in front of your friend’s house. Jisung hands him a few bills and comes to stand next to you, admiring the place. 

It’s huge, outrageously so, the typical rich person’s, and you absolutely hate it. From the judgemental look on Jisung’s face, so does he. 

You put a hand on his shoulder. “You asked for it.”

Felix, Chris and Minho are already inside, according to Jisung’s phone, and it takes you a while to find them - the house is packed and loud. 

“Have you seen Changbin?” you ask them, but they shake their heads. 

You check your phone - no news from your friend. He’s probably running late or has a last minute hold up. You decide to stick around anyway. You’re dressed up, you’re here, and you have company. 

You get drinks and sit between Jisung and Chris. You talk a lot to the latter, who, now that he doesn’t have his head in his computer, proves to be really fun company. You discuss productivity and creative slumps, interrupted here and there by the occasional fan asking for an autograph or a picture. Jisung is busy playing cards with Minho, his hand on your thigh. Felix is flirting with a few people, drinking fast, his smile widening with every second. 

When your friend comes into your field of vision, and eyes you with annoyed envy, you are so happy you could sing. You wish her a happy birthday, the band too, and for once she has absolutely nothing to say. 

“Changbin didn’t come?” she asks as a last resort. 

“Sorry, he couldn’t make it,” you reply with a fake pout, trying to hold back your laughter. 

When she leaves, dumbfounded and annoyed, you laugh hysterically with Jisung for so long you have tears streaming down your cheeks and your sides hurt. 

As the night advances, Jisung’s hand rides higher and higher on your thigh. His eyes get glassy with the alcohol, as do yours - in fact, everyone gets pretty wasted. Chris and Minho share a joint, keeping an eye on Felix. Despite the chaotic ambiance around you, you five stay pretty calm, chilling on the couch you claimed, talking or playing silly games. 

A few other people join you for a classic game of never have I ever - except you’re all too drunk already to play with drinks, so you agree on changing the rules. If you have, you kiss the person to your right. 

“Never have I ever been naked in public,” Felix proposes. 

His eyes are lit up like fireworks, and he stares at Chris, who shakes his head.

“Oh my gosh…” 

“You HAVE to, Chris!” Felix cackles. “We all saw you!” 

“What’s the story?” you ask, laughing. 

“Nothing interesting. You don’t want to know,” Chris sighs. 

“I do!” you retort. 

“A simple story, really,” Minho explains, twirling a joint between his fingers. “He went to take a shower at the camping site we were staying at, and I stole his clothes.” 

You all burst out laughing, and Felix claps his hands. 

“C’mon, now. Kisses. On the mouth.” 

Felix receives a kiss from the girl next to him, which surprises him - and Chris turns to you. 

“It’s the game, right?" he laughs. "Sorry, Ji.” 

“No harm, man.” 

“You’re okay with it, right?” Chris asks you.

You nod, amused. Chis leans in, a smirk on his face, and slides his fingers in your hair. His lips are plump, kissing you gently, and you feel yourself melt a little. You almost don’t want to stop, your hand falling against his chest. The booze makes your tongue act on its own, dancing with his, and Chris indulges. It takes a minute before you lean back, falling back on the couch. 

“Fuck, damn,” you laugh. Your cheeks are red. “You’re a good kisser.” 

“So are you,” Chris smiles. 

“That was hot,” Jisung lets out with a solemn nod. 

You hide your face in his neck, giggling like a teenager, and the game continues. At the next question, Minho kisses the guy next to him, and you appreciate the sight a little too much. Your senses are getting tangled - between the booze, the weed, Jisung’s warm fingers around your thigh, Chris’ tongue and the sight of so many people making out, you’re officially horny. 

It doesn’t help that you still feel your wet underwear against your cunt, reminding you of the joys of Jisung’s tongue. 

You bite your lip, waiting for the right moment. Finally, a girl asks never have I ever stolen a car, and nobody moves - except you. You fall against Jisung, pulling him into a needy kiss. The people around you start yelling and laughing. 

“What the fuck!” 

“STOP MAKING OUT, WE NEED THE STORY,” Felix screams.

“I don’t think we’ll get the story tonight, bro,” Chris tells him with a chuckle.

He’s right, because you’re lost in your kiss, Jisung’s hands all over you. You don’t even care that there’s dozens of people around. You devour his lips, get drunker on his taste. You want him, you need him - and he kisses you deep and passionately. One of his hands grip your ass and you moan softly. 

“I think we’ve lost them,” Minho says. 

“Hey,” Chris says in your ear. “Get a fucking room.” 

A giggle escapes your mouth and Jisung pulls away from you. His lips are already swollen, and the sight is so attractive you have no idea how your legs are able to hold your weight as he pulls you on your feet. 

“Have a good time,” Felix sings as you walk away. 

You wave at them, letting Jisung guide you through a house neither of you really know. You stumble through the crowd, stopping to kiss sometimes, and you can’t wait to be alone. It’s proving to be complicated, though, because every door you come across is either locked or already has people busy behind it. You scoff and snicker until you find a door that has a piece of paper taped on it. 

PRIVATE DO NOT ENTER

You exchange a knowing look with Jisung. No words needed. He turns the handle and you see stairs leading down. You close the door behind you, lock it, stumbling down the stairs to the basement. 

When you get there, you gasp. 

It’s a beautiful room, with thick, fancy carpets and the biggest TV you’ve ever seen. There’s a bar in the corner, and on a wall, a collection of guitars. You stare in awe at everything, Jisung standing behind you, kissing your neck.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

For a second you forget all about Jisung, running towards the guitar displayed on the far right. It’s the same, you realize. The exact same model. 

“That’s a rare one,” Jisung says, sliding next to you. “Worth a fortune.” 

“My mom had one,” you tell him with a smile. “She found it at a flea market. Guy had no idea what he had. She paid 11 dollars for it.” 

Jisung smiles even more widely. “It was meant to be.” 

“Yeah.” 

You smile fondly at the memory. It soothes you, envelops you. You forget where you are, for a second, although your entire body is drunk on Jisung. 

“You play?” he asks you, his eyes not leaving yours, his hand putting a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“A little,” you admit.

“Then let’s hear it.” 

“No, Ji, you can’t touch -” 

You might not know him that well, but one thing you are learning about Jisung is that he does not care. So it’s without hesitation that he grabs the guitar from the display and hands it to you. You laugh, carefully taking it. 

You sit down on the floor, the guitar in your arms, and you gently brush the strings. Jisung sits in front of you, leaning against the back of a couch. 

Before you know it, you’re playing a melody you know like the back of your hand. With your eyes closed, and just the sound of music to guide you, it all feels like a dream. The basement, the party, even Jisung, it all fades - you’re alone with the guitar for a few seconds. 

When you open your eyes again, at the end of the song, Jisung is staring at you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. 

“A little?” he repeats.

You laugh. “Ok. More than a little.” 

“You didn’t tell me you’re a musical genius.” 

“I’m not.” 

He lifts an index. “I’ve heard a lot of people play the guitar. I’m not just saying this. I think I’m lowkey in love with you, now.” 

You smile at him, at his dark hair and his round eyes, at the line of eyeliner under them, at the choker around his neck, at the red and black sweater you were gripping desperately minutes ago. 

“Same to you,” you admit. 

He grins and crawls over to give you a kiss. The guitar falls beside you, immediately forgotten. Jisung hums against your lips. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you in a hoarse voice. 

“Yes please,” you answer, and he laughs. 

You remove his sweater and let your fingers wander around his chest, touching his skin. It feels warm. Still kissing you, he unlaces your top, cupping your breasts. He teases your sensitive nipples, drawing a soft cry from your lips. You arch your back, thrusting your hips against his. You can feel his hard cock under his jeans, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around the bulge to stroke him. Jisung grunts in your mouth, and suddenly bites your lower lip.

You jump in your surprise, letting out a moan. 

“Keep moaning for me, baby,” he whispers, gliding his teeth across your lips. “You sound so hot.”

“Fuck, Ji. I’ve been dreaming about that cock.” 

You unbuckle his belt and take him out of his boxers. He’s hard, and you lift your hand to your mouth, slowly licking your palm. You keep your eyes on him while you do it, and he stares back at you, mouth parted, taking in the sight. Then, you start to stroke him, coating his length with your spit. 

“I’m going to fucking ruin you,” Jisung growls. 

He roughly takes your hand away, enclosing his fingers around your wrist, and pins it against the carpet. He lays you down as you bite your lip in amusement, glancing at his erection - and you can almost see him pulsating. He doesn’t let go of your arm, pushes up your skirt and pulls down your panties at the same time, and slides his fingers against your pussy. 

You shudder as he chuckles.

“You’re still so fucking wet, baby.”

“It was all the kissing,” you admit with a smile.

You kiss his jawline, his neck, his ear, as he keeps rubbing his fingers against your wetness. You’re clenching around nothing, your hips moving in search of pressure - but Jisung keeps his caresses light. 

“Chris got you good, didn’t he?” 

“He did,” you breathe, although you can barely find the words. 

“Got me, too, to see you make out,” he replies, keeping his voice low. “Maybe one day I can watch you fuck.” 

As he says the words, he inserts two fingers inside of you, and you let out a choked whimper. 

“Fuck, Ji, don’t say shit like that,” you cry out.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you want to?” 

“Right now, I just want you,” you say, and you mean it. 

He smiles against your lips as you kiss him. You sit up slightly, and he liberates you, taking his fingers out of you. He slides them into his mouth, cleaning them. 

“The taste was almost gone,” he explains, and you smile.

You give yourself a boost to turn him around so you can straddle him. You place yourself so your folds grind against his cock, swaying your hips slowly. He lets out a deep breath, and you throw your head back. Your hands sprawl on his chest as you keep moving, and you know you’re making a mess, smearing your wetness on his skin, but you don’t care. 

“Fuck, yes, baby,” he moans. 

You glance at him with a smile. 

“You like that?” 

“I do. Are you coming?” 

“I’m close.” 

“Then stop. I want you to come around my dick.” 

Not that you could refuse him. He takes out a condom from his back pocket - you don’t question why he would have that ready - and hands it to you. You get him ready, your fingers trembling slightly. 

“Going to pound that pussy so good,” Jisung whispers to you, placing your hair behind your ears, cupping your cheek. 

You rub his length against you to lubricate, and then slowly ease him in. A curse escapes your lips, and Jisung secures his hands on your hips. You accelerate gradually, and soon you are fucking him, your capacity to think escaping you. He helps you by bucking his hips, deepening the thrusts. 

One of his hands travels across your stomach, squeezes your breast.

“So pretty,” he moans. 

“You’re so fucking deep inside me,” you breathe out.

“C’m’here, baby,” he grunts, pulling you towards him, so you lean against his chest. 

He places your arm behind your back, pinning you in place, and your knees fall on either side of him. Then, he starts hammering into you. The way he holds you, you can barely move, and the sensation is so intense it instantly makes you see stars. 

“Holy shit, Ji,” you whimper. “I’m coming…” 

“Come, pretty thing,” he whispers in your ear. 

You come undone around him, shaking violently as he keeps you in place. Your moans echo through the basement, and maybe you’re being too loud, but you don’t care. You’re pretty sure no one can hear you above the deafening music from upstairs, anyway. Jisung continues to thrust into you, placing a few languid kisses on your neck until you’ve come down. Only then does he slow down.

“How was that, baby?” he asks, still rolling his hips.

“So fucking good.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiles. “Stand up for me.” 

You nod and manage to push yourself on your wobbly legs. You lean against the couch, and a part of you just wants to lay down on it. But Jisung has another idea. He stands up as well, pulling you in his arms. 

“Sit here,” he says, and pats the back of the couch. 

He pushes the hair away from your face, kissing you deeply, his cock brushing your pussy. He’s still so hard - you know he’s not done with you. You settle on the top of the couch, spreading your legs. Jisung takes his pulsating cock and guides it inside of you again, keeping your legs apart. 

You’re already getting too used to having him there, because your body hums in approval, and your pleasure immediately starts building back up. It feels like he’s filling every inch of you, his breath heavy on your neck, thrusting into you in deep, languorous moves. 

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” you mutter. 

“It’s because you take me so well, baby,” he grins. “But I like your compliments.”

You bite your lip. “Praise kink?” 

“Y’know it.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his earlobes, licking his neck. You start to suck at the skin there, intent on leaving a trace, and he growls. 

“You’re look so fucking sexy right now, Ji,” you breathe in his ear. “I love your cock. I love how you fuck me with it. You’re so beautiful and you made me come so hard.” 

You feel him twitch inside of you, and you can’t help but smile. You hum, planting a few kisses along his jawline. 

“Is there anything you can’t do, Ji?” you breathe, although he starts thrusting into you so hard you have a hard time aligning your words. “Such a good kisser, and you… You fuck so well… And the way you play…” 

He moans, slamming into you. The sound of your voice, of his breathing, of his skin slapping against yours becomes a blissful symphony.  

“When I saw you playing the drums… Fuck, I just fell in love with you,” you say. 

You don’t know how you’re still talking because he’s moving faster and faster, bringing you to the edge again. 

“Your fingers around the sticks… The way you hit the drums… So fast and brutal…” 

“Fuck, baby…” he whimpers.

“You’re magic, Ji,” you cry out. “Everything that you are is magic.” 

He moves his head to capture your lips again, and you moan in his mouth. Your kisses are feverish, disorderly.

“I’m coming again,” you moan.

“Don’t hold it back, baby, fuck, keep clenching like that,” he says. 

You’re seconds away from coming when he does, and the feeling of his cock bursting into you is almost too much to handle. Your orgasm reverberates in your entire body, his too - and after a few seconds of delightful chaos you breathe out against each other, panting. 

When you’re able, you open your eyes. His remain closed, and you admire the sweat on his skin, the slightly smudged makeup. You must look as much of a mess as he is. 

You place a chaste kiss on his lower lip, and he opens his eyes to smile at you. 

“I don’t want to move,” he says. 

“Me neither,” you admit. 

“Let’s just stay like that for a few more seconds.” 

You nod, your head falling on his shoulder. After a minute, however, your legs start to waver, and you reluctantly move away from each other. Luckily there’s a bathroom in the basement, so you go together to clean up. He helps you lace your top back on and you insist on putting back his belt yourself. 

He strokes your hair. Kisses you on the temple. Keeps your hand in his as you walk back upstairs. 

You feel dizzy. You feel good. 

This is dangerous. 

Jisung will be leaving soon. 

He’ll forget you and you’ll have to do the same.

All in good time. 

Felix has fallen asleep on Chris’ shoulder, who is texting on his phone. Minho is playing a card game with the guy from earlier - when you approach them, he gives you a nod. 

“You two look fucked out.” 

“Let’s go home,” Jisung says, ruffling Minho’s hair. 

You watch as the two boys walk away, their arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. Although you’re exhausted your smile doesn’t leave you, and you help Chris wake Felix. The guitarist groans but still follows you, and you steal a bowl of chips on your way out so you can eat them in the taxi. 

You get to the band’s rental and everyone heads for their bedrooms - you leave the empty bowl on the kitchen counter, following Jisung to his bed. You both fall against the mattress, entangling your limbs together, and you sleep.

Thank you for reading! I really hope you liked it, please let me know if you did. See you soon for part two!