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keeksandgigz · 6 months

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roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson au #barista!eddie munson

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daechwitatamic · 2 years

Text

Chapter 9: Really Sure || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary: This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

In which Taehyung takes you on an actual date.

Chapter Warnings: language, kissing, groping, explicit sex including: fingering, unprotected sex with bc (this is fiction pls be safe in ur real lives!), penetrative sex, consent king Kim Taehyung

Note: I wanted to take a second to seriously shout out Pauli (@/kookstempo - if I tag her the post stops showing up in searched tags bc tumblr is the worst platform to exist) for her help with this chapter. My brain is full of angst and longing so when I get to these happy scenes, I tend to draw a blank. The entire Christmas festival is due to her - she talked me through every single moment and came up with a lot of the ideas in the first place. If anything you see is sweet, fluffy, or makes you feel warm and fuzzy…. credit her.

Second note…… this was my first time writing smut, ever! It was challenging and honestly a little scary so pls read with forgiving eyes!

Word Count: 5k

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 9: Really Sure

Wednesday, December 12th

At tutoring on Wednesday morning, Taehyung works on his The Cherry Orchard paper.

“I think the easiest theme is the one about societal upheaval and accepting change,” you tell him. “You can fill pages with that, no problem.”

Taehyung considers this, tapping his fingers against his lips. “I was thinking about the pattern I see with love,” he tells you.

You give him a look and he smiles your favorite smile, the one when you catch him at something, the one that starts with a flash of uncertainty and then it grows sideways from one corner to the other, like he’s relieved that you find him funny.

“Seriously,” he insists. “You said to look for patterns. Ravensky’s all hung up on her dude in Paris, Barbara’s waiting for a proposal, Dunyasha is trying to get with what’s-his-face -.”

“Yasha,” you supply. Taehyung snaps his finger and points at you, grateful.

“Also the guy,” he continues, referring to the character Peter. “He thinks he’s above feelings, and love, but he’s hot for Anya.”

“So what’s the theme?” you press him. “Their stories and situations are all different. What’s the connection, or message?”

He frowns. “That love comes for everyone, like it or not?”

You frown back. “I don’t think I agree with that as a general statement, but if you think you can provide enough textual evidence to support it, be my guest.”

“You’re Peter,” he tells you, giving you an amused look.

“Does that make you Anya?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

He laughs. “You’re right, now it’s weird.”

“Besides,” you say, a little defensively, “I don’t think I’m above feelings. Or love.”

“You just want to pretend you are for a minute, because it feels safer,” he says.

“Alright, that’s enough Chekhov for you today,” you joke, but you’re unsettled. Taehyung sees through you - he has from the beginning - and it’s something you’ve never experienced before, not with anyone.

“That’s wasn’t a shot at you,” he tries to explain. “That was kind of a… ‘universal you’ thing. We all do that.”

You’re grateful he’s letting you off the hook, but now he’s got you thinking about it. “After you’ve been hurt, it’s hard not to.”

“That’s true,” he says graciously. You have a feeling you could change the subject now, but something in you presses on.

“Have you?” you ask cautiously.

“Which part?” he says, setting down his book and looking at you. “Been in love? Been hurt? Tried to pretend it wouldn’t happen again?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He shrugs. “All three.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, meaning it.

“That’s life,” he says. “You get up and you try again.”

“That’s a very healthy outlook,” you observe. “Not everyone has that strength.”

He gives you a smug, knowing look. “That was a very nice compliment.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, yeah, you’re welcome.”

He glances at his phone. “Three minutes left,” he informs you.

“Okay,” you say. “You’re good on the paper? Do you think you can have some of it done before our session tomorrow night?”

He smirks at you. “As long as someone doesn’t distract me too much later.”

You roll your eyes, again. “I’ll stay on campus tonight, then.”

He pouts. “That is not the response I was going for.”

“Sorry,” you tell him. “I have a paper to write, though. I really do need to stay on campus.”

“Fine,” he says, still mostly pouting. “Hey, do you have plans for Saturday night yet?” There’s something in his tone that you can’t name.

You think about it. “No, I don’t think so,” you decide. “Are you guys having a party?”

“I’m not sure what the rest of the guys are doing,” he says, “but I had an idea for you and me.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh, you did, huh?”

He gives you that smile again, the one that grows. “I was thinking I could take you to the Christmas festival in town?”

Your whole body feels suddenly warm. You’ve loved hanging out with Taehyung; you’ve loved the deep talks you’ve had, the easy way you can joke with each other, the fluttering in your chest when he smiles at you. But until now it’s been… unnamed. Casual. Safe.

“Okay,” you say, even though your stomach is in knots. What you don’t want is to hurt his feelings over nothing, over your own silly fears.

“Yeah?” he asks, perking up. “That fancy hot chocolate place will have a food truck there that night. We can just walk around, check out the stalls, talk…”

This makes you smile. “Okay, fancy hot chocolate sounds really good,” you admit.“ Okay then,” he smiles, packing up his laptop, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. “Then it’s a date.”

Saturday, December 15th

You agonize over what to wear, a fact that is not lost on your roommates. You want to look cute as hell but you also don’t want to freeze.

“I vote thick tights under a skirt or dress,” Bridget offers.

“That would look cute with the boots,” Kiko agrees.

You flop backwards on your bed in defeat. “I can’t do this. I’m tagging you in, Bridg. Go be cute and charming in my place.”

“How is this any different from going to hang out at the house?” Bridget asks. “You don’t freak out over that.”

“It’s very different,” you insist. “There’s all this pressure.”

She purses her lips at you, looking annoyed. “Because he’s telling you he expects it to be absolutely perfect, with choirs of angels singing and wedding bells in the distance?”

You frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

She points at you. “Then it’s all internal. You’re putting the pressure on yourself. And that means you have the power to stop it.”

You and Kiko exchange a glance, and Bridget presses on, all worked up.

“It’s a date, it’s one night. Your future doesn’t hang in the fucking balance, so lighten up.”

“She’s scolding me,” you complain to Kiko.

“She’s right though,” Kiko says. “Where was all this knowledge when I was panicking over Yoongi?”

“We didn’t know you were panicking,” Bridget points out flatly.

“I definitely didn’t,” you agree.

“I thought it was pretty obvious,” she says, voice small.

You shake your head. “You can’t expect people to know how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking if you don’t tell them,” you say gently.

She goes silent, lips thin.

Bridget is looking at you.

–

When Taehyung picks you up after dinner, he’s got Christmas music playing in the car.

“Setting the mood, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“I heard you like Christmas,” he says, giving you a sly sideways smile.

That’s something you’ve really learned about Taehyung - that guy pays attention. He may not seem like he’s listening, but he is, and he’s retaining information. When had you mentioned liking the Christmas season? You try to remember. You’d said it once, to Kiko, at the bar a week ago.

After parking, you walk side by side towards the entrance. The whole block is barricaded so cars can’t come up or down, and people walk freely down the street. The street is practically ablaze with strings of lights, and they continue into the adjacent park. At the end of the block, a small stage has been erected, and a trio of people are singing indie covers of Christmas songs.

Taehyung leads the way to a semi-circle of food trucks and stands at the end of the longest line.

“I believe gourmet hot chocolate was promised,” he tells you.

“It was,” you say seriously. You try to stand on your tiptoes to see the truck’s menu board. Taehyung pokes your arm to get your attention and hands you his phone, where he’s pulled up the menu himself.

“Oh,” you say, taking it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, looking down at you. You decide on peppermint and pass the phone back to him.

“I’m thinking salted caramel,” he says, eyeing the screen.

“I was thinking about that one,” you tell him. “It sounds amazing.”

The line moves slowly, and you find yourself shivering slightly, since you’re just standing still, not walking.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks you, glancing over. It reminds you of the night at the trail, the first time you’d kissed.

“No,” you lie.

He makes a face, clearly onto you. “You’re shivering,” he says flatly.

“I’ll be fine once we start walking,” you say, feeling defensive.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head good-naturedly and reaches an arm around you, pulling you closer. He is warm. He rubs his hand up and down your upper arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps.

When you reach the front of the line, Taehyung buys your drinks and the two of you head towards the park, where there are giant light displays. People mill around you in both directions - large families with a bunch of kids, other couples like you, even some people who seem to be enjoying the displays in solitude.

The displays are huge, so tall, depicting so many different things, all so bright and colorful. Lights adorn the trees, wrapped around the trunks and up into the branches. Where the trees reach across the walking path, overhanging the cement, it feels like you’re in a tunnel of red and gold lights. Off the path, strings of lights are twisted and tied to form trains, dinosaurs, beach scenes, and of course, lots of Santa and reindeer. You and Taehyung meander down the concrete path, following the flow of foot-traffic, stopping at each display to admire it.

You stop to admire a display whose lights flicker and move in time with music playing over speakers above you. It’s so bright and beautiful, but you find yourself turning to look at Taehyung; his face shines in the glow of the lights, blues and greens moving across his face just to be replaced with gold and white. All those sly glances and careful faces are gone - his expression is just open, honest, delighted. A tiny smile rests on his lips as he watches and listens. Something swells in your chest - you feel like you could touch the spot it blooms from, right above your diaphragm. It makes you want to be closer to him, part of his infectious joy.

You reach over, your fingers finding the side of his hand. He turns his wrist and takes your hand without looking, fingers lacing with yours. He gives it a tiny squeeze and says, “Look, they have that dragon up there breathing fire!”

And then he’s pulling you along, eager, already grinning.

–

As the path through the park leads you back to the street, Taehyung leads you by the hand to the side of the street lined with vendors and stalls. You walk, still hand in hand, peering in at each booth. You pass a lot of artisanal foodstuffs - organic honey, jams and preserves from the local farms, fancy teas and coffee beans, a handmade fudge stand (this one gets your money).

There’s also a healthy showing from local artists - one booth is full of landscape paintings, and you spend quite some time standing, looking at each one, marveling over them. There’s plenty of knit and woven goods - hats, mittens, scarves, socks, sweaters. Taehyung eyes a black and white scarf, playing with the material for a minute before letting it drop back to its spot. You stop again two booths down at a little pottery stand. The artist displays vases and bowls, and shelves of handcrafted mugs, each one sporting different colors and designs. “No two alike!” the sign proclaims.

You gravitate towards a few mugs that are clearly not identical, but must have been painted on the same day - they sport the same deep blues and an almost silvery grey, swirled like rainy puddles on a sidewalk. You pick up two, turning them in tandem, looking at each angle. Instead of protruding handles, they have smooth divots where your fingers should fit as you hold them.

“Those are nice,” Taehyung says, looking over your shoulder.

“All my good mugs are still at my parents’ house,” you tell him.

“Let’s get two,” he suggests, reaching over your shoulder to pick up another blue mug, turning it over in his hand. “You pick one and I’ll pick one.”

“So we match?” you tease, already starting to look for one that stands out to you.

“You can think of me every time you use it.” He gives you a teasing wink so you’ll know he’s mostly kidding.

“It is pretty,” you say, putting back the one you’d been eyeing and reaching for another. “I like the blue. And I like the finger-grooves instead of a handle.”

“Come on,” Taehyung says decisively. “Pick one, let’s get them.”

The potter bags them separately for you so you don’t get yours mixed up with Taehyung’s, and you continue down the road. You’re heading in the direction of the band, the music growing louder as you approach. The indie trio seems to be taking a break, and jazzy instrumentals come through the speakers instead. Some older couples dance together in the space in front of the now-empty stage, hands locked.

“Come dance with me?” Taehyung asks quietly, setting down his little bag with the mug inside under a nearby bench, reaching for yours too.

“Doesn’t really look like a young people scene,” you observe, but you hand him your bag when he reaches for it.

“Do you care that much?” he asks, and there’s something challenging in the way he says it.

“I guess not,” you allow, and he grins, starting to swivel his hips to the trumpets, reaching a hand for you to join him. You can’t help but laugh - he’s so freaking silly, and he really gives no shits, and you kind of love that about him.

He spins you slowly, one hand on your waist, and you’re somehow surprised that he’s a good dancer. He leads you well, and you let yourself be in this moment as best you can: the taste of peppermint in your mouth, the lights around you glowing golden, your heart beating in time with the harmonies of the brass instruments, Taehyung’s body solid and warm against your as he holds you tight.

–

When the indie band returns, the jazz covers fading down to nothing, Taehyung leads you towards the little creek that winds through the park. This area isn’t technically part of the festival, and people aren’t really walking here. The Christmas lights and decorations don’t extend this far into the park either, but the path is lit by lanterns on posts along the side of the path. Taehyung leads you onto a small bridge and leans his elbows on the railing.

“I like this spot,” he tells you. “When I was starting to walk a little after my accident, I’d come here. It’s not too far from the parking lot and it felt… peaceful, I guess.”

You look at him, listening. The creek runs below you, the sound soothing.

He turns to face you, and you close the gap willingly, leaning up to meet his lips, knowing they’re coming.

There’s some ferocity to his kiss tonight; you don’t know if he’s just tired of holding back, if he’s keyed up from dancing together, or what, but something is different. He tangles a hand in your hair and tightens his fingers, his other hand pulling you flush against him by the small of your back. Your mouth opens on a tiny noise of satisfaction, and his tongue strokes yours immediately.

He tastes like caramel, he smells like a man, and your head spins as he presses your body against the bridge railing, fingers still lodged in your hair. You press yourself against him, wanting to feel as much of his body against yours as you can, winter coats be damned.

You want to be as close as possible, you want to feel every part of him, you want to - even if only for right this second - let him in in every way. You can’t put it into words, even in your head, so you try to put as much of it into your kiss as you can; you grip his jacket tight between your fingers and pull him against you, relish the feeling of him hardening against you, drown a little in the contented grunts he makes when you move your mouth down his jaw and towards his neck.

He releases your hair and grabs your ass with both hands, helping to increase the friction you’re both creating, and you release the skin of his neck long enough to let out a sigh, resting your forehead on his shoulder, sucking in air. He half-grunts, half-growls and nudges at your forehead, trying to get you to lift your chin so he can kiss you more.

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up to meet his eyes.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs, hands still tight on the meat of your ass. “What do you need?”

You.

Somehow, this is true.

“Take me home?” you ask, hands still holding him in place by his jacket. “Not campus,” you clarify quickly, when his eyes widen a little.

He wraps his arms all the way around you and pulls you in tight, pressing his lips to your forehead quickly before letting you go.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he whispers. You let go of his jacket and reach for his hand. This time, you lead him through the park, aiming for the parking lot.

As you pass back through the festival on your way to the car, you notice the long line of families waiting to take pictures with Santa.

“I didn’t get to sit on Santa’s lap,” you pretend to pout.

“I’ll give you a lap to sit on,” he quips, and you laugh out loud, shocked at his audacity.

He laughs too, actually covering his mouth with his spare hand. “Sorry,” he says through his giggles. “That one should have stayed in my head.”

In the car, Taehyung drives with one hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing circles on the thick fabric of your tights. You don’t talk much, but you keep your eyes on him, steady, as his face comes in and out of view as you pass under streetlights and then continue into darkness again. Every now and then he glances back at you, and when he meets your eyes he gives you a tiny smile, almost like he thinks it's funny that you’re still looking.

At the house, the living room is empty, and after you hang your coats on hooks Taehyung leads the way upstairs, shutting and locking his door as usual.

You sit on his desk chair and unzip your tall boots, placing them carefully under his desk, out of the way so no one trips on them in the dark later. When you’re done, you look back up at him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, watching you carefully. He’s kicked off his own shoes; unlike yours, they lay in the middle of the room, discarded.

You rise, walking over to him gingerly, and he takes your face between his hands, kissing you sweetly. Too sweetly. You want to kiss like you did on the bridge. You take over, kissing him more aggressively, humming into his mouth when he takes your ass in his hands again. Right where you left off, you think.

He lowers his hands as you kiss him, skimming the sensitive underside of your ass, hands slipping beneath your dress. His fingers caress the backs of your thighs, just once, and then he’s moving them back up, searching for the hem of your tights. When he finds it, he crumples the material in a fist, pulling you against him again, and then gently slides his thumbs under the waistband. He peels your tights down your body tantalizingly slowly, his eyes locked on yours the whole time, giving you plenty of time to object if you want to.

You don’t.

You step out of your tights as they hit the floor, and Taehyung gathers up your skirt in one hand, caressing your bared ass with the other, pulling you in to kiss you again, breathing in so harshly as he does that it’s almost like he’s breathing you in. You silently thank Bridget for reminding you to wear something lacy tonight.

You reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, tugging it off of his shoulders and running your hands up his toned arms and back down his chest. He exhales sharply, fingers tightening on your butt as you trace lines up and down his stomach, wanting to touch everything.

He reaches behind you to find the zipper on your dress, struggling a little with the hook and eye at the top. You feel the cold air hit your back as he drags the zipper down, and then he mimics your earlier motion, tugging the shoulders off of your arms.

He takes a second to look at you as your dress falls to your ankles and then he’s kissing you again, hands roaming as if he can’t decide what to touch first, what to touch longer, as if his hands miss one part of you the second they stray to visit somewhere else.

He unhooks your bra and you toss it sideways, then your hands go for his belt buckle. He kicks his head back and huffs out a breath, trying to maintain control as your hands deftly undo his belt and loosen it.

“God,” he groans, fingers twitching, as if not touching you for these two minutes is taking all of his self-control. You love him like this - like he’s barely keeping it together, like he’s seconds aware from losing it and tearing you apart.

Part of you hopes he does.

You unzip his pants carefully, then glance up at his face before pulling them over his hips. He watches you evenly, but his breathing is anything but even. You take in the sight of him as his slacks fall away and he uses his toes to push off the socks from each foot, leaving him only in boxer briefs. They hug him tightly, showing the curve of his fantastic ass, the swell of his trapped cock.

You let out a shaky breath as Taehyung pulls you close again, and then he pushes you backwards towards his bed. You land on your back and scoot up as he crawls over top of you, kissing you again. You clutch at his upper arms as he runs a hand from your hip up to your chest and back down again. Then his fingers brush the lace edge of your underwear, and you know he’s asking for permission.

“Go ahead,” you breathe, and he slides his fingers under the material, seeking what he wants.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, pressing his warm length against your leg desperately, as he circles his fingers in your wetness, not even having to press inside to find it. His hair swings a little with each movement he makes. “You ready for me, baby?”

You let out a breath like a laugh. “Apparently,” you tell him, smiling as you kiss him again. Then, he pushes in two fingers at once, sinking them into your heat until they can’t go any further. You gasp at the intrusion, but it turns into something guttural quickly because the feeling is divine. God, his fingers are long.

“Mm, Taehyung,” you murmur, shifting to give him more room as he begins to pump his fingers out and in again, thumb reaching for your clit. You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling, but it’s only a minute later that you’re reaching for him, trying to tug his briefs off.

He lifts up so you can slide them down his hips, kicking them off the end of the bed. He hisses and closes his eyes when you wrap a hand around him, tugging a few times, eyeing his girth.

“Do I need -?” he manages to ask, voice raw, eyes flickering to his nightstand.

A condom. “I have an IUD,” you tell him. “And I know I’m clean. You?”

“Definitely clean, I promise,” he tells you, reaching down to tug at your panties, the final article of clothing. Once he tosses them towards the end of the bed and comes to rest fully over top of you, he pauses to kiss you again, sweet and deep. His member slides along your slit and he can’t help but move a little, slicking himself up along one side. You groan, half tempted to shift your hips and just take him, no warning.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pausing his movement, looking at you carefully. “You’re sure, right?”

You want to kiss him again, just for asking. God, what did you do to deserve how sweet he is to you?

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “I’m really sure. I want you.”

He closes his eyes at these words, resting his forehead against yours for a second, and then he’s reaching down to position himself at your entrance, pushing forward slowly. He keeps his eyes on your face and you breathe slowly as you adjust to him. He pauses when he bottoms out, giving you a second.

You give your hips a few experimental circles, feeling the stretch. “Okay,” you whisper. “Move? Please?”

He kisses you quickly and acquiesces, starting a steady, quick pace. You both groan, drowning each other out, as he moves. He touches you as he keeps this pace, tweaking a nipple, kneading your ass, smoothing down your hair.

“God, you feel good,” he murmurs.

“You, too,” you assure him. He slows his pace, pulling out and entering with excruciating slowness; you can feel every single ridge positively drag along your walls. You try to take it, try to let him toy with you. But it’s so fucking much, the sensations building to the point of being overwhelming, you can’t possibly hold him tight enough, you can’t bear it.

“Go faster, please,” you beg, voice broken almost to the point of a sob.

“Jesus,” he gasps, and then does as you ask, beginning to snap his hips at a bruising speed. You can feel your pleasure building, your thighs shaking and then calming, then shaking again. Taehyung adjusts his angle, using both hands to lift your hips a little higher, pulling you against him with each thrust, and you keen out his name.

“Tae, there -!”

He smiles at you wickedly, brows furrowed with effort and concentration. He locks in the angle and ups his pace, eyes roving your body.

“Ah - Taehyung - I’m -,” you gasp, screwing your eyes shut.

“Close?” he asks, voice so low it makes your toes curl.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Tae…”

“Yes, baby,” he hisses, hips slapping lewdly against your own. You reach down to rub your clit, feeling the mounting pressure snap and crest, white blooming behind your eyes. You come with a whine, and he fucks you through it as you pulse and clench around him, shuddering beneath his hands.

“So pretty,” he tells you with a whisper as your muscles relax again, stilling his hips long enough to give you a quick kiss on the lips. Then he’s grabbing your ankles and pressing them together, lifting them to rest on his shoulder. He bends you practically in half, leaning his weight on his hands, pounding you into the mattress until your eyes roll back. You can’t even make words at this point, only whines and whimpers as you screw your eyes shut.

“God,” he growls. “Fuck! Y/N, can I -? Inside?”

“Please,” you cry, your heart still racing from your own climax, “yes, do it.”

His thrusts speed up but get sloppier, his earlier precision falling away as his hips jerk and stutter, his breathing ragged in your ear.

“F-fuck,” he gasps, pushing further into you, seeking more heat, hips slowing until they still. He breathes for just a second, and then rolls sideways, reaching over to grab a towel from the back of his desk chair. He hands it to you to let you clean up, waiting patiently for his turn. Then, he throws it in the general direction of his hamper and rolls to gather you in his arms, still breathing heavily.

“Hi,” you say, giggling a little. He smiles back, and you can feel how fast his heart is racing.

“Hi,” he says back, trying to steady his breathing. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, snuggling up against his side as he rolls to his back, the oxytocin flowing. “You?”

“Fucking fabulous,” he tells you with a laugh.

You both lay there quietly for a minute, cooling down. Then, he turns to look at you.

“Y/N,” he says, “I just want to make sure you know… if we’re doing this… it will be only you, for me. Okay? I’m not… just… it’s only you.”

This is the truth: in your heart, you don’t believe him. Maybe he means it right this second - in fact, you’re sure he does. But this is what you know about love and relationships: things change. Just because someone means it today doesn’t mean they’ll mean it in a week, or a month, or a year.

“I appreciate that,” you say. It is sweet of him to reassure you, especially considering what he knows about your past. You’re glad, too, that he kept it vague - doing this. What was this, talking? Fucking? Dating? Whatever the answer is, you feel better not putting a name to it. “I prefer one at a time, too. It’s just… less complicated that way.”

For you, it’s true. That’s the only thing you’re really sure of.

*innocent whistles*

Thank you for being here! I appreciate every single like, reply, dm, ask, or reblog!

HUGEST thank you to Pauli for basically writing the entire date and for beta-ing!!!

#taehyung x reader #dailydaegu #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #s2l #taehyung angst #college au #f2l #bts fanfic #bts fic #fic: what was hidden #taehyung smut #bts x reader

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vivwritesfics · 26 days

Note

I’m famous on ur blog 😌😌😌

anyways

sound fun question mark?! absolutely not, he intends to make my life HELL and he’s already done so with his filthy Australian accent 😡😡😡😡😡. He isn’t even from straya. ‼️ HES A FAKE ‼️ 🗣️🗣️🗣️

but eh I shall fill u on the details of the party, we arrived like a bit early so I’m in the bathroom HIDING from this little girl who tried to get with my favourite person, I am not having this. 😠

can’t lie I might just sit here and play Roblox the entire time. Pls don’t take this seriously I don’t actually play Roblox I do it as a joke coz it’s funny

I want to finish my fic but I can’t bc the annoying dude I’m staying with will be asking questions as to what I’m typing. I’m gonna call him enchilada now. “The guy who kissed me” is too long of a name. Actually why would he kiss me. I’m not much. That’s weird. Maybe he was drunk. But. Anyways

it’s not that I’m overprotective of Oscar (maybe) but like she’s such a rat honestly, she’s cheated on so many people and Osc is like way too dumb to think humans can be that cruel sooooooo. I’ll be the eyes HES missing.

no one tries to get with my friend whilst being called LuCiE

I will make u all live my life 🗣️

I have adhd I’m sorry I talk a lot 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

and 🪴 anon ur my icon 🥹🫶

-🥑

Seriously I'm living through this since my social night rn consists of going to my dads and forcing him to watch the aus gp lol

FAKE AUSSIE? BOO! BOOOOO the only real aussies are my boys oscah, Danny ric, you nonnie (and my other aussies) and valtteri bottas

In this house we are a Minecraft household and proud lol

But I get not finishing le fic, it's why some shit takes me so long bc I write in secret lol

Hope the rest of your night is fun and if you fight Lucie pls tell me

🪴NONNIE YOUVE BEEN SUMMONED (ily guys)

#vivi speaks #🥑nonnie

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notthehardtyres · 1 year

Note

Star Wars AU pls!!!

This is so very far on the back burner BUT it's such a fun idea. It arose from a tumblr prompt fill that @boxboxlewis wrote in which George was an Inquisitor for the Empire, which gave me the thought, what if Daniel was a rebel X-wing pilot, and he was Force-sensitive but didn't know it, but George (who as an Inquisitor is trained in the Force) realizes it while they're dogfighting and manages to capture him. See, I absolutely looove the specific Enemies-to-Lovers trope wherein one of them is imprisoning the other but the imprisoned one manages to say something that starts to crack the other's morals open juuust enough. And I'm sorry but George absolutely has the bone structure of an Imperial Sith Whatever, just try to change my mind lolol.

ANYWAY here's a snippet:

“This will go so much better for you if you cooperate,” George says calmly, hardly even glancing at the pilot strapped down onto the table.

“I bet you use that line on all the girls,” the man replies with a foolish grin.

“It’s the truth. Tell me what I want to know, and all this unpleasantness goes away. You can even ensure that your rebel friends are granted clean, painless deaths.”

“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, mate, but I think you need a new line.”

“And I hate to dampen your enthusiasm, but I must suggest that you begin taking this situation more seriously.”

He knows the pilot is taking it seriously; he can see the familiar fear in every line of his face, in the swell of his pupils—can practically smell it on him, can feel how the Force fluctuates in time with his rapid heartbeat, pulling taut in anticipation.

George lifts one implement from his table, gray metal polished to a sterile gleam, and makes a show of examining it under the bright surgical light. He barely pays attention to it, in truth—he's purely setting the mood, buildin the anticipation.

“Who is your master, Daniel?” he asks with the air of one making idle conversation at a dinner party.

“My, sorry, what?” Daniel sort of laughs, stilted. “I think you have the wrong idea—”

“Don’t play the fool, it’s unbecoming.” George rounds back to the table. He presses a button on the little grip in his fingers, and the light-blade hums into being, pulsing white and red. “Your Jedi master. Tell me their name.”

“What the fuck? I’m not—this is like, some kind of a joke? I’m not a Jedi.”

#toastandvegemite #my fic!#riccussell

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forsworned · 2 years

Note

don’t joke about discontinuing or else 🥲

pls don’t take this seriously this is au joke

OR ELSE WHAT HUH HOW DARE YOU THREATEN ME W TOKI I DID NOTHING WRONG 😭😭😭

#YOU ARE BRAVE FOR THIS EMILY #stxrryemxlys

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versadies · 3 years

Note

Hey hey!! I've been following you for a while now and I love your work sm aaa

Saw the event, I love soulmate au's 😩‼ as a gemini, may I request a gemini prompt + kaeya? Up to you who the enemy is, I trust you ^ ^

-🦚 @pavo-ocell-me

someday, one day (hc scenario)

penpal: omg hi !! im glad u love my work, i hope this is to ur liking 🙌

prompt: gemini the twins, enemy-lover soulmate au

pairing/s: kaeya x gn!reader

sypnosis: when you thought he was your enemy but is actually your lover.

includes: spoilers on diluc and kaeya's backstory, spoilers on genshin's official webtoon, violence, physical pain, burns, arguing, enthusiastic!diluc (pls take note that its canon that he USED to be like all the other pyro characters b4 his father's death.),

when you first met diluc, it felt like he was your knight in shining armor.

the first time you two met was when you accidentally fell down from your balcony after leaning too much on the railing and diluc managed to catch you bridal-style whilst he was on patrol around the city as a knight.

it truly was romantic– and a near-death experience for you.

so when you found out that his name is imprinted on your wrist, you felt ecstatic, and so did he.

since then, you two were known as the youngest soulmates who had found each other in mondstadt, people admiring your relationship with envy and happiness.

of course, you and diluc were a happy couple. although you would be lying if you said diluc is overall your type, you managed to find yourself falling in love with the man.

when crepus, diluc's father, found out about diluc's once-in-a-lifetime moment, he simply laughs and pats you and his son by your backs with a proud smile.

"by the time my son turns 18, we better make arrangements of your wedding! it's a ragnvindr tradition, after all." he comments eagerly. you honestly weren't sure if the man was joking or not.

it didn't take long before you meet his dear brother, kaeya.

when you find out his brother's name is the same as the one that's imprinted on your other wrist, being surprised is far from your reaction.

"don't worry about it, y/n." diluc reassures you one night as the two of you stroll around the city together. "i'll make sure nothing will go wrong between you and my brother. besides, you always have me, right?"

if diluc hadn't tried what he said, perhaps things would've gone differently than now.

in fear of being enemies with your future brother-in-law, you decided to avoid kaeya like a plague, giving the young man apologetic looks whenever you walk away from his presence.

as much as you're avoiding the man, you couldn't imagine hating on kaeya. every night, you always think of what can make kaeya your enemy. what is there to hate him? he's funny, chivalrous, everything that screams your type of men.

wait.. type?

your heart drops from the moment you started thinking romantic things about diluc's brother, looking behind you to see your soulmate sleeping soundly with a frown plastered on your face.

is diluc really your lover?

doubts started to cross your mind. what if diluc isn't your soulmate? what is there to prove that kaeya is your enemy? are you just overthinking things?

"i can't think about this." you murmured to yourself, pulling up your comforter before laying back down on your bed and try to fall asleep.

"i have a wedding to worry about next year."

just as you said, you did try not to think about the possibilities you have with the two brothers, distracting yourself with tasks and dates with your lover, who's quite oblivious to your problems going on inside your head.

unnoticed by you, you weren't the only one who has been burdened with your thoughts.

by the time diluc's birthday has arrived, the two of you started to get excited from your future wedding, excited to finally marry each other after years of spending your adolescence together.

you didn't expect an inconvenience during diluc and crepus's trip.

you didn't expect crepus trying to save diluc from a monster using something that no one but snezhnaya has ever heard of.

you didn't expect crepus asking diluc to put him out of his misery.

you didn't expect diluc to come strolling back to your shared home with blood stained in his clothing at a late hour.

you never, ever, expected your lover to fight his own brother when he took a visit.

and you did not expect your lover to plan on leaving you and everyone.

"what do you mean you're... you're leaving?" you ask in disbelief, staring at diluc as though he has two heads. "can't i go with you–?"

"no, this journey will be too dangerous for you–"

"this applies to you as well! you're not an immortal or some god–"

"i can do this on my own, y/n." he says with his eyes narrowed. you couldn't help but scoff in disbelief. this isn't the diluc you know and loved.

"but diluc.. isn't this too much? your father... i know crepus's death is too much but, why can't you stay?" you whispered, cupping his cheeks. "what about our wedding? the life you and i planned after your bi–"

"my father died and you're seriously thinking about our wedding?!" diluc forces your hands away from his face, glaring at you. "why can't you understand that i'm trying to find out the truth on this delusion–"

"i do understand!" you yelled out. "i do understand that you want to do this for him but what about monstadt? the knights? what about your brother–"

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" he yelled, lashing out at you as you screamed in surprise when you saw fire in front of you, immediately covering your face with your arms out of reflex.

you didn't notice how your lover's eyes widens on what he did,

you couldn't notice him, not when you're too focused on the huge burns on your arms.

"oh my god..." diluc murmurs, slowly taking a few steps back as he takes a look of what he did, ignoring the sudden presence of adelaide and elzer, who both gasped from the scene.

your eyes starts to water from the intense pain, trying not to cry out and scream your heart out in fear of making your lover feel regret. you could honestly care less on what diluc is doing, all you could think about was the intense burns from your arms.

suddenly, the door was slammed open by kaeya– who was wet from the rain outside.

"what the hell did you do to them?!" kaeya exclaims, running towards you with a shocked look on his face. "i'll take you to the cathedral alright? the sisters will heal you." he whispers, wiping off the tears from your face as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and takes you towards the doors.

before diluc could let out a word from his mouth, kaeya gives him a glare.

"you may hate me for what happened," kaeya says.

"but for celestia's sake, don't ever come to them or call them your lover ever again."

that was the last time you saw diluc.

you eventually find out from the chattering nuns that the man had already left monstadt with no news of when he'll return, causing everyone to pity you and for diluc about what happened.

you were thankful that no one except the nuns found out about the incident of your arms.

throughout your stay in the cathedral, you usually find kaeya beside you, keeping an eye on you with a concerned look on his face. you honestly couldn't imagine what would've happened if the man didn't storm inside dawn winery. would diluc actually try to help you later on and leave? would you have suffered more with your injuries as he stands by watching you in disbelief?

whatever outcome you could think of, your heart ached from them all.

would diluc stayed had he been the one who tries to take care of your injuries?

either way, you knew the man is no longer the one you fell in love with from those years ago.

as years grew by, so did your friendship with kaeya.

although it was awkward from the start, you eventually warmed up to the man who you thought is your enemy, feeling more comfortable with him than before.

the two of you started having careers by then, with you having a successful career whilst kaeya becomes the calvary captain of the knights of favonius.

although the two of you are busy, you agreed to always meet each other at night in angel's share, where you drink the night away and talk about anything that comes out of your minds.

there wasn't a day when you thought about diluc.

thankfully, your burns weren't too severe and is slowly fading away throughout the years. but that doesn't mean the memories you had from it disappeared as well.

ever since that dreadful night, you started having nightmares about the incident, always finding yourself sitting up from your bed with a scared look on your face.

you wished you didn't want to see diluc this way, but you honestly couldn't bare to face him if he ever comes back to the city.

you don't see him as a lover or a friend. all he is to you at this very moment is your nightmare.

your nightmares simply washes away when kaeya comes up in your mind.

whenever you think about your so-called destined enemy, you felt comforted and safe. it was understandable really! you were touched by how he took care of you regardless of you being his "enemy".

however... now that you could think about it, the calvary captain has a lot more common with you than diluc himself. the fact that his brother made you laugh a lot and supported you in many ways made you started thinking that maybe diluc really isn't your destined lover.

your heart skips a beat from the thought of kaeya being your true lover, the smile you wore never fading away.

perhaps when you're finally starting to move on from the relationship you had with diluc, maybe... just maybe, kaeya could be the one you've been hoping for.

you started to sleep more peacefully, excited for the future that awaits.

somewhere in the calvary captain's home, the man is dreaming and hoping of you too.

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krasytoonz · 8 months

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4dtk · 2 years

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HEY! CONGRATS ON YOUR EVENT! I've read your nct au and all of them just so gewwwd. anyway. hihi.

I've been thinking about :

Johnny/🖤/"You must swallow all of my cum baby. Y-yeah like that, baby." + idol!johnny au + sugardaddy!johnny.

so it's about Johnny spoils his babygirl a lot as she loves shopping especially for lingerie and for the dialog i'm sorry if it's weird but it's about Johnny deepthroat his babygirl.

uh, is it weird? anyway, THANK YOU! AND CONGRATS!!!❤ and could u pls tag me as 🍒anon? THANK YOU!

i hope this is ok <3 thank you for the love

warnings: sugar daddy!johnny, blowjob, oral (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, public sex, N^SFW UNDER THE CUT

johnny groans as you remove the zipper of his pants with your teeth, biting down hard on his lip in the fitting room of the lingerie store.

“i didn’t- fuck, think you were this ambitious, baby,” johnny mumbles, gently running a hand through your hair. it would’ve been cute if you were cuddling, but the sight only screamed filthy when you gasp at his bulge, straining through the tight underwear. there’s even some pre-cum that stains it white, “look at what ya do to me.”

you giggle, using both hands to uncover his cock before it drops in front of your face. it’s rock hard, veins littering the length while the tip begged for your tongue on it.

“’m sorry our first sex encounter has to be in public,” but you wouldn’t have it any other way, not when johnny spoils you so well with the latest clothes and accessories. sure, there’s not so much freedom with him being an idol too and all, but you feel pride swell in your chest when you see his card being charged.

because fans would assume that he’d buy luxury items for himself — they’re wrong, it’s all for you.

being an idol in the industry for long has also hardened his skin, so he couldn’t care less if people were to write headlines about how johnny suh likes to bring his girlfriend into his lingerie store. it’s happened thrice, now, but it looks like it’ll only happen more with how cutely you beg him. today just happened to be a surprise.

“hmm... wrap your hand around it, yeah, like that,” johnny murmurs. even for your first time, you seem to know what you’re doing, stroking him up and down slowly. experimentally, you stick out your tongue lick at his tip, causing johnny to groan out.

“you’re too loud,” you whisper, smiling as if you didn’t do that, but johnny doesn’t do anything, too smitten and wooed by you. your lips fit nicely around his tip and you suckle, putting pressure on just the edge of his cock.

“and your mouth’s too empty,” the other chuckles, massaging your scalp through your hair. johnny isn’t complaining when it’s your first time taking dick, but you seem to be taking his joke seriously when you deep-throat his length, bottoming out in your throat just right.

“shit, baby, take it slow- god!” you don’t listen, already addicted to the feeling of something heavy in your mouth. you start to bob your head, wetting his shaft with your saliva that johnny has to bite the sleeve of his suit. his cheeks burn when you gurgle on his thick length, even more so when it becomes so sloppy that drool starts to drip to the floor.

“taking me so well-” he decides to enjoy it, holding your hair up into a ponytail so there’s less hindrance on your end. humming around his dick, the vibrations prompt soft moans from the male who struggles against your eagerness.

“darling, if you keep doing that— i’ll—!” with his head against the walls of the fitting room and the groans falling from his lips, it’s clear that everyone knows you’re doing anything but try on cute lingerie sets, with your sloppy job of a blowjob that you end with his cock down your throat.

you can tell he’s close when he closes his eyes, but he has to have one more look at your lips clamped around his cock and in an instant, he swears right as he cums down your throat, “swallow all of my cum baby. y-yeah, just like that.” he bucks his hips even more into your face where your nose meets little tufts of hair on his pelvis. you cough as the liquid is squirted down your mouth, but you savour the last bits of his seed on your tongue, smiling against his length when you feel it twitch and pulse.

“mm, yummy.” you grin, standing right back up to kiss him on the lips. you’re ambitious, like he said, ambitious enough to swing open the door and completely ignore the staff that’s come over, to tell you to leave no doubt.

johnny shakes his head with a smile of disbelief, wiping his own cum off of the corner of his lips. you were going to be the death of him.

event rules here

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mygnolia · 2 years

Note

ignore that little follow + unfollow there but. "fuck it. kiss me?" w soobin PLS. ren i'm in dire need of soobin content bc this man,,, he does things to me 😔 it could be ANYTHING at all, i just need some soobs content 😵‍💫😵‍💫

omg pause this is a cute idea- I TOO am bombarded with soobin and i will offer u some soobs rn and the follow PLS

You and Choi Soobin are at that stage where you can’t call each other enemies, as cliche as it seems, but you also cannot deny the rapidly growing feelings for the very boy who’d once frown when you locked eyes.

However, one of your closest friends happens to be a little twat, and invites your chemistry partner as well.

“Just because Mr. Choi Soobin happens to be right there does not mean you can also invite him.” You reprimanded dramatically, not actually mad at what he did. The dark haired boy puts his hand up as he defends himself, clearly not taking you seriously.

“I didn’t think that when I ran up to you there would be the person who you claim to hate most right around the corner!” He protests, his eyes wide. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you’re in a three meter radius of that boy.” You roll your eyes and shove him, readjusting your backpack strap as Beomgyu takes a random left, unaffected by your playful antics. Perks of sharing a large campus with another academic program; you’d get to wander the multitude of undiscovered walkways during your free time.

“God, well now we have to see each other more because you also invited him there.” You refer to the same boy who’s been the subject of your conversation for the past five minutes.

Beomgyu sticks out his tongue. “Boo, _____ has a little crush and wants to deny it- Ow! Will you stop?”

You sulk. “Whenever you stop making fun of me.” He laughs.

—

Showing up to the rink meant spotting the six foot giant in a white sweater and fidgeting hands. The only person he knows here is you and maybe Taehyun, but even then, he doesn’t know you that well, and a small part of him wants to better acquaint himself because he takes a liking to the snarky jokes and sarcastic remarks that you offer.

And putting your skates on means wobbling with every step and running into Ryujin whenever you accelerate too much. And bam! You’ve run into a laughing Choi Soobin who’s helping you regain your balance. You send him a gratuitous smile and begin to skate off, but he’s still holding your hand, and your balance just happens to be much better than before.

You’re only holding his hand because you don’t want sore knees by tomorrow. Nothing else. The sun slowly drops until it nears the horizon, and it’s when your friends clock out to go home. Soobin offers to accompany you until you reach the bus stop, and even though you get there within minutes of speed-walking, he stays for a bit longer, making sure you’re not alone. It makes your heart warm, and maybe he isn’t so bad when he’s watching the stars and smiling at his phone.

Maybe this was the time to do something completely impulsive, but Soobin just looked so serene under the soft glow of the lights. You’ve made up for the freshman rivalry that stretched until now, and you’ve gotten over that speed bump that’s slowed you both down from being friends. So why were you hesitating?

The bus nears, and you’re both aware of that fact, as it seems like he immediately turns to you with a ‘get home safe’ already on the tip of his tongue. You look content with the way today turned out, and Soobin feels his chest inexplicably flood with something so… warm. Maybe he could lean in and peck your cheek. Kiss your knuckle like a gentleman from the 19th century. He scoffs at the outlandish thought, and returns his gaze to you.

But Choi Soobin did not have the guts.

“Fuck it.” You could sense the hesitance radiating off of him in waves. “Kiss me?” You asked, some of the previous confidence dissipating the moment the words left you. Plus, Soobin’s surprised expression didn’t help, and you worriedly waited for the “I don’t like you like that.” that would most definitely.

“Okay.” He murmurs, ears tinted with pink. You can’t fight the smile that paints your face, and close your eyes when he leans in.

Your theory is very much correct, and Choi Soobin has quite soft lips.

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greta-van-fics · 3 years

Text

wine thursdays

author’s note: this accidentally became long AF fjldfsjlkd, just a fluffy smut sam neighbor au request for @hippievanfleet ♥︎ liv

taglist: @thatiloveyouso @stardustschords @greta-van-yeet @gretavanhoney @nonsensepoet

warnings: alcohol mention, s m u t (18+), unprotected sex (wear a condom pls!)

You practically kicked down the door to your home. After two steps, your bag and shoes were flung down, and after four your jacket had been peeled off and tossed aside. Six more steps and you were flopped down on the couch, groaning and rubbing your eyes. Your back cracked deliciously as you allowed yourself to luxuriate in a stretch for a moment.

“Long fuckin’ day,” you grumbled to no one in particular. Standing up again, you made your way to the kitchen, in search of some dinner. Ah, the perfect meal: that opened bottle of Merlot sitting happily in your fridge.

You snatched it up and popped the cork. As you reached towards the cabinet to pick out a wine glass, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror that hung over your stove. The mascara you’d painstakingly applied that morning was smeared into very becoming raccoon eyes.

“Cuuuuute,” you giggled, winking at yourself in the mirror. You extended your arm for the glass, but as your fingertips closed around it, it slipped and fell with a delicate shatter onto the linoleum. “Oh, of course.”

A knock on your front door made you even more frustrated. “Seriously? Not right now,” you muttered, not wanting to deal with whatever sweet old neighbor of yours had undoubtedly made cookies to share.

“I’m coming!” you said. You weaved your way around the shattered glass and towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw your way-too-hot and way-too-loud neighbor, Sam, clutching another bottle of wine.

“I sensed I was needed,” he said, wrinkling his brow like a comic book superhero. “My Spidey senses were tingling.” He stepped into your apartment before you could even open your mouth. “Long day, princess?”

Your cheeks colored furiously despite your best efforts to conceal it. “Sam, can I help you?”

You’d had a crush on him since the day he moved in and introduced himself to every single person on your floor. The boy didn’t have an enemy in the world; everyone absolutely adored him and his effervescent personality. You remembered your first meeting vividly.

“Hi! I’m Sam! Do you like wine on Thursdays? I was thinking, I need another young person to have Wine Thursdays with, like we get takeout and open a bottle of something cheap and delicious, you in?”

“.....What’s going on?”

Wine Thursdays had been a regular staple of yours for the past eight months, but this week had your head in such a whirlwind that you’d completely forgotten today was the day. The highlight of your week, the shining light at the end of the tunnel that was...Sam.

“I heard something made of glass shatter,” Sam admitted from your sitting room as he set his bottle down on the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah, a stupid wine glass fell. It’s shot.” You shrugged, trying desperately to push away the ringing echoes of “Princess” in your ears. Sam made his way into the kitchen and whistled lowly in surprise.

“Where’s your broom, mamacita?” God, if he kept this up much longer you’d be a wobbly puddle.

You entered the kitchen behind him and retrieved your broom from its hiding place next to the fridge. Before you could begin to sweep up the glass, Sam snatched it out of your hands and did it for you.

“Oh, Sammy, you don’t need to do that!” you cried. Sam shook his head, his newly-cropped hair flaring around his neck.

“After the day you’ve clearly had, this isn’t all I have to do.”

You froze. That was an innuendo, wasn’t it? But Sam made joking innuendos all the time. But this one, surely had to be—

“How do you know I had a bad day?” you croaked, embarrassed at the sound of your own voice. He stood up, carefully dumping the dustpan full of glass shards into your trash can.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he sheepishly admitted, “Your makeup is smeared a little bit, like you were crying. So dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Oh, God.” You exhaled a shaky laugh. “It’s smeared because I rubbed my eyes when I got home! Don’t worry about me.” Just as your heart stopped racing, it also sunk a little in disappointment. So no innuendo there, then.

“I do worry about you.” Sam’s voice was low, and your eyes shot up to meet his. He was gazing at you now, his lips pressed together as if he was trying to figure out the words he needed next. “I think they might be working you to death.”

Heat was pooling between your legs at his intensity. You’d never seen him this serious, and it made your nervousness increase a few degrees. The kitchen felt incredibly small and tight, as if it was forcing the two of you together. Sam took a step towards you.

“I think you’re really beautiful,” he said bluntly, and your breath caught in your throat, “but every day I see you come home from that job, you look completely worn out. I think you need someone to take care of you.” He closed the distance between you two. Your heart was now pounding in your ears, and you were sure you would pass out or be even more mortified when this turned out to be another harmless flirtation from him.

“Do you want to relax, baby?”

Your brain barely had time to form the words before you were saying them breathlessly: “God, yes, Sammy.”

His fingers snaked and tightened around the sides of your face, pulling you into a feverish kiss. His soft, full lips fit perfectly against yours and you moaned into the kiss, making him pull you in deeper. The two of you separated only when you absolutely needed oxygen.

“Fuck, I’ve thought about this forever,” Sam said, hurriedly beginning to undo the button-down he was wearing. His eyes had gone a completely different shade of brown, darkening every second as he drank the sight of you and your kiss-swollen lips in. “Get undressed and get on the couch.”

There was no way this was actually happening, right? You must have fallen asleep when you first got home and were now having the hottest dream of your life.

You stumbled into the sitting room again and removed your shirt and pants. The thought suddenly occurred to you that Sam would be seeing your naked body, and your froze in shame.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Sam asked as he pulled his pants off his long, lean legs. He clocked your embarrassed expression and made his way over to you. “Hey, you’re a fucking angel. So fucking pretty, I have to stop myself from taking you in the hallway every time I see you.” He grabbed you and kissed your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

“Sammy, you make me feel so good,” you murmured, any reservations melting away from your mind.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Sam growled and threw you on the couch. With a yelp, you landed and instinctively pulled your knees up to your chest. “Oh look, baby girl knows just what to do,” he said with a cocky smile.

After he practically dove on top of you, you once more began making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies. You traced the lines of his tanned back, leaving indentations with your nails when he bit your bottom lip and pulled, then relinquished it with a satisfying smack against your teeth.

“Fuck, Sam, I’ve wanted this since the day I met you,” you breathed. Sam began moving his way down your body, planting open-mouthed kisses on every inch of you he could reach.

He finally stopped just short of your aching core, tugging your panties to one side. “Please, Sammy,” you pleaded.

“Baby?” He said, lifting his head to make sure you were looking at him. “I said I was going to take care of you. Help you relax. So I want you to scream as loud as you fucking want when I bury my face in your perfect cunt.” With that, he lowered his face and licked a stripe up you with his tongue flattened.

You realized in that moment that you had never truly screamed. The noise that left your mouth was completely foreign to you. You arched your back and scraped your fingers at Sam’s head, desperately searching for anything to grab onto. He continued to eat you out so wonderfully that you were chanting his name when you felt your orgasm hurtling towards you.

“Sam!” you gasped, pushing his head away from your legs. He sat up, and you saw his gorgeous face...covered in your slick. There was a glistening strip from his nose to his chin that made you want to spontaneously combust.

“Please fuck me, Sam,” you prayed. Sam pulled a hairband off his wrist and quickly tied back any stray locks that were flopping into his face. He then took the opportunity to lean down and press a quick kiss to your mouth. You could taste yourself and him mingled together, and it tasted like the most delicious sin you could think of. He yanked off what remained of both of your’s underwear.

“Of course, baby.” He lined himself up and thrust into you with a hiss. You immediately scrambled to claw at his back, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you making you yell out in pained pleasure. “Good?” he grunted, face buried in your neck. You nodded pathetically and smacked his back, signaling that he should start moving.

He pulled out and thrust into you again, starting up a rhythm that had his hips slapping at yours mercilessly. “Ohhhhhh fuck, angel. You feel so good,” he moaned. You had your eyes screwed shut and knew you must look ridiculous, but you couldn’t make yourself care. Sam was fucking you so relentlessly and you never wanted it to end.

Soon, though, you felt your high approaching again, and you groaned out, “Gonna cum, Sammy,” as eloquently as you were able.

Sam’s hips stuttered and his thrusts grew sloppy as you shrieked and your body came completely undone beneath him. You felt like your limbs were made of a billion, white-hot stars, and the man inside you was the only thing tethering you to Earth.

With a strangled moan, Sam pulled out of you and came all over your breasts and stomach. The sight was hot as fuck, and you indulged in it for a moment: Sam, completely fucked out and sweaty, tiny hairs plastered to his forehead, and his cum, covering your entire torso. But you could tell the exhausted man wanted nothing more than to collapse on top of you. You reached over and grabbed a towel that had been placed, by luck or by fate, who knew, on your end table and cleaned the both of you up.

Sam flopped down next to you on the couch, pulling you into him. “Wine Thursdays fucking rule.”

#can u tell im tired LOL #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka #by liv

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morifinwes · 3 years

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wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

-------------------------------------

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

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sweetjekyll · 3 years

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NCT 127 as your Office Colleagues AU

A/N: this was totally written on a whim while I was actively not listening to my accounting professor’s online class. it’s just some crack I sent my friend as if they were to be my colleagues in the office (pls don’t take it too seriously if you don’t like it)

Taeyong

Would befriend this colleague on the first day on the job, super friendly and helps you whenever you have a doubt. Has a lot of advice to give and encourages you to do your best. You have no idea he is the actual department manager because he treats everyone like a close friend. Taeyong’s immensely good at coordinating every employee in his department, remains steady even under pressure from the higher ups on the busiest of days on the job.

Taeil

He's strictly professional and formal but low-key sociable, he’s even nicer those nights you leave the office together and have a drink at the bar. He’s the eldest in your department and demands the use the honorifics in the office. Taeil’s always on time, doesn’t do extra shifts unless he’s asked to by the head of the department. The only person who always has a lunchbox with homemade healthy food everyone wishes to have a bite of in the office.

Johnny

I would thirst for this guy in the office with my colleagues any time he breathes in my direction, super charismatic and friendly too. He’s the guy who deals face-to-face with clients when they’re giving the people at the front office a hard time even if that’s not his job. Doesn’t take any rude client’s bullshit and could sell you his grandma’s dirty laundry if he wanted as a bonus deal. Johnny’s always full of creative ideas and is challenge driven, so that’s why he’s a Project Manager.

Yuta

This is the guy you think is your department manager because he’s a workaholic. Turns out he’s the manager’s assistant since his work is efficient and he’s fast at any job he’s given. It takes you a couple of weeks to find out that the super friendly guy (Taeyong) who became your friend on your first day on the job, is in fact the actual person in charge of your department; he’s just too nice. Yuta is also the serious faced type who cracks up so many jokes in the office, with the most straight face, that some people fail to understand his funny side.

Doyoung

Doyoung is the guy in the office with whom I’d have a mental competition with. Has it ever been spoken into words? Absolutely not. But if he does something well, I have to do it better. He may be feeling the same way, but there’s mutual respect for each other’s work, thus mental yet mutual motivation to excel on the job. Extremely meticulous with whatever he’s doing. You won’t be able to find a single miscalculation in any accounting documents thanks to him.

Jaehyun

Low-key the guy who gets the most on my nerves, even more than Mr-Perfect-At-His-Job-Doyoung. Very handsome and charming, which he knows very well and uses it to his advantage when working with clients. Barely exchanges any words with you except for formalities, as he prefers to hang out with his small crew of friends during coffee or lunch breaks. He’s also one of the guys your colleagues thirst for (including myself and yourself but we would never admit that unless held at gunpoint, right?).

Jungwoo

Flirt of the office. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. His desk has always something colorful on it, from picture frames to flowers delivered to him every week or so. He still has those heart shaped balloons he got on Valentine’s Day from his now ex-girlfriend because “they’re pretty”... that was four months ago. Feeling down? Jungwoo will cheer you up. He’s good with numbers but prefers organizing company gatherings and other special occasions for the office. Will try to make you confess if you have a crush on one of your colleagues.

Mark

What even does this guy do in the office and how did he get hired for the job? Nobody knows what his role is in the office, he’s just sitting there at his desk smiling, eyes glued to the computer till the breaks. His favorite color is blue, you didn’t ask, he told you himself after he delivered you a file, which had a word on it, which reminded him of something, which then led to his favorite color... Listen, he talks a lot and majority of the time you don’t even know what he’s talking about, but he’s still super sociable. One thing is for sure: no one at the office can function without him.

Haechan

Haechan and Jungwoo are the guys I would try not to talk to during my work-time, because they’d distract me too much from all the paperwork I need to be doing. Haechan high-key talks a lot, gossips and has all the information no one knows about the colleagues in the office, including the higher ups of the company. He’s in charge of presenting projects to board meetings with Jungwoo, since he too can’t shut up and won’t shut. He’ll have the investors convinced to do business with the company even before he’s done presenting. You may hear loud whines and complaints come from his desk, sometimes inaudible mumbling.

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enhyupn · 3 years

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always you!

pairing: park sunghoon x gn!reader (ft jay too)

disclaimer: reader is incredibly insecure... i didn’t realise how insecure they were until i finished writing this pls

word count: 2.9k+

genre: angst and a dash of fluff... the fluff was a little treat, childhood friends to lovers!au based on heroine disqualified

a/n this was a wild ride to write omg i don’t usually write angst so i can’t tell if i displayed their emotions as well as i wanted but oh well it was fun to write 💭

was it worth it? was it a matter of luck or chance? was this worth risking everything? you believed park sunghoon was everything, he built you into the person you were today. his confidence, the way he would always take care of you, you weren’t ready to let go of any of that plus a stupid confession? you weren’t letting that be the cause sunghoon drifts away.

the way he ties your laces, the way he ruffles your hair when you feel down — how could you not fall in love with him? everyone around you believes that too.

maybe the happy smile on his face should of made you smile too. happy tears streaming down his face with a smile so big, you desperately wished that you were the one that made him smile like that. in the corner of your eye stood kim minju, holding a bouquet of flowers, the purple lilacs you helped him pick. the beginning of love, that’s what the flowers mean, sunghoon wanted the flowers to mean something.

“congratulations sunghoon” you staged a fake smile on your face. sunghoon caught off guard by your sudden voice flinched before turning to you with a bright smile on his face. “the first out of us two to start dating”.

“i beat you to it” he smirked, “can you believe she said yes”. you chuckled lightly at his enthusiasm, knowing if you said another word you might just tear up.

“i have to get to class” you spoke as quietly as you could, your head slightly tilting down so he couldn’t get the look of pure misery on your face. “see you?”.

“see you y/n” the corner of his eyes crinkled. you watched as he turned around before making his way to his new girlfriend. anybody could see they were a match made for each other, top students in both of their classes as well as part time models? why would sunghoon look your way when someone like kim minju is right in front of him.

even as months went on, you never really... recovered from the whole minju and sunghoon thing. frankly, with them basically being everywhere you go, you couldn’t even get a chance to get over sunghoon. little things started changing too. every time you asked to walk home he’d tell you he’s walking home with minju, meaning you had to watch them from the other side of the street while they giggle and hold hands every evening five times a week. he won’t even help you with your homework anymore, he won’t even come over when you spontaneously cook a meal that feeds two people. he’s accidentally missed so many calls from you and has left you on delivered so many times you can’t even count the amount on your fingers.

the realisation hit you fast, you depended on sunghoon for so long that he was the only thing that mattered to you. guilt ate you up for being upset with sunghoon, knowing that it was selfish to ask for all his time when he had his girlfriend right by his side. maybe, just maybe, this was the time to get someone by your side that wasn’t park sunghoon.

as time went on you realised, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. the image of sunghoon left your standards high and the selection right in front of you never met those standards. well, until you met park jongseong or jay. he was friendly, funny and never cared when you were upset over something silly like seeing sunghoon with minju at the café you told him about. jay filled in the space sunghoon once filled in, but something felt off. you never wanted to admit that jay was a sunghoon replacement, jay was jay and sunghoon was sunghoon. although, when you look at sunghoon, all you think about is sunghoon but when you look at jay, guilt eats you alive because all you can see is sunghoon.

“y/n i like you” the light breeze, green reappearing on the bare trees, everything looked perfect so why didn’t you think it was perfect? jay looked into your eyes desperately, trying so hard to look for an answer that you yourself didn’t even know. “i know, i know you still think about that sunghoon guy, but i— i don’t care y/n”.

“jay...” you looked everywhere but his eyes, you felt so many emotions that you couldn’t pinpoint a single one. you knew that it was selfish of you to even consider his feelings, you couldn’t give him an answer when he was standing right there. you so desperately wished to get away, not so sure if the mention of his name was the thing that set off all the emotions in your heart. “i— i should go...”.

“please” jay gripped onto your wrist lightly, the desperation in his voice and face confused you so much that you couldn’t even think straight. why you? jay was always there for you and he deserved someone better than you, someone that would be able to properly reciprocate those feelings same he had for you.

“i’ll talk to you later jay... i’m sorry” the grip on your wrist loosened before completely coming off. the scene looked almost painful. there stood jay, his face completely blank and there you were, tears running down your face as you tried to grab a hold of your emotions. each step you made brought another tear down, you don’t know why you were so upset. was it guilt? the feeling was so overbearing that you couldn’t even answer jay.

you don’t know where your feet took you, but all you knew is how you had no idea why you were faced with sunghoon’s home. the black doorframe almost begging you to come closer, is this right? the doorbell almost sent you into tears again, the nostalgic sound adding to your emotional state. the silence following the sound maybe even snapped you back into reality, what are you doing here?

“y/n?” the voice was clearly not sunghoon, a smooth feminine voice only belonging to kim minju greeted you. just to make the night better his girlfriend opened the door and saw your puffy eyes and red nose.

“minju” you quickly wiped tears away from your cheeks, nothing could help however as new tears quickly formed before dropping down your face “i don’t know why i’m here i should—”.

“y/n?” a familiar voice sent chills down the back of your neck. he quickly made his way to you, a concerned expression that made you want to cry harder. “what happened? are you okay?”. you wished you could ignore the concern in his face, you didn’t want him to care.

“i’m fine, tell your mom i said hi and i’ll get going” the shakiness through your words failing to hide the immense despair you had in your voice.

“no you’re not!” sunghoon raised his voice, a habit he had when he was annoyed. “you’re shaking y/n... what happened?”. the boy didn’t know how his hands found his way to your shoulders, gripping them lightly to reassure you that he was there.

“sunghoon stop, i’m fine” you shook off his grip before stepping back to give yourself some space. “i’ll be going now”. the whole situation being only a mere five minutes long, the fact it felt longer than that made you uneasy.

the silence in the air was deafening, the sound of the crunching grass you were making as you walked home was the only thing breaking it up. sunghoon stood in shock as he watched your shaking body make each step. minju, who was watching the whole scene unfold in silence, didn’t know what to say. she’s never seen sunghoon so concerned, so emotional and so angry. what are you to him?

the following days were peaceful, it was a silent agreement for you and jay to act like none of that happened, the happy faces on both your faces as you eat cake together proved it. it was easy settling back in to your normal, everyday relationship. maybe even too easy. you wished that every day could feel as simple as that day, the normality of everything felt so easy.

“you should tell him” good way to hit the mark jay. suddenly this normality thing was crushing down. maybe it was too good to be true? it was bound to happen anyways.

“excuse me?” you questioned jay. you felt yourself grow hot at his sudden comment.

“tell sunghoon you’re in love with him”. one of jay’s traits you loved most was his straight forwardness, but honestly speaking maybe this was one of the times you didn’t love it.

“it’s like you want me to cry in the middle of this café” you joked as you took another bite of your cake.

“y/n i hate seeing you like this” jay looked into your eyes seriously, “why are you letting this happen right in front of you? why are you letting this eat you up?”. you could see the emotions he was bottling up, you could tell he’s been wanting to say this for a while. it just so happened that he let it all out in a little café while you ate cake.

“jay—”

“i should get going” jay said standing from his seat. you understood his feelings, obviously he was frustrated and annoyed with you. you felt the same about yourself. “i’ll call you later?”.

“where are you going—”

“see you y/n”

everything about this made you feel terrible, you’ve lost sunghoon and now maybe jay? why why why couldn’t you just forget about sunghoon? an amazing perfect guy likes you so much that he’s willing to date you even when you constantly think of someone that isn’t him. what was so special about sunghoon? every time you’re almost begging yourself to let him go, he always seems to show up right before your eyes.

the walk home was awkward, even when it was just you all alone. you couldn’t stop thinking about everything, when did this get so complicated? it all started with a one sided crush on your best friend, maybe that’s all it should of been. everything was falling apart and you so desperately wished someone could fix it all. your head felt so light that you couldn’t even think straight anymore. you sat down on the old, almost falling apart bench in the middle of the park. it faced a small pond, filled with lilly pads and a duck with its ducklings following them closely behind.

“hey y/n” you suddenly faced a hand holding a bottle of water. you looked up, your eyes widening realising it was minju.

“minju?” you moved over to make some room for her to sit in.

“hi” she weakly smiled. you knew in the way she fiddled with her fingers that she had something to tell you. “it’s weird how i just met you here, i wanted to talk to you but i realised i didn’t know anything about you. it’s kinda like we were fated to meet here”.

“yeah...” you looked down at your lap. awkward silence filled the air, both of you not knowing what to say.

“sunghoon and i broke up” minju broke the silence, you abruptly turned your head towards her in surprise. you noticed her nose was red and she was chewing on her bottom lip to stop her sudden tearing up. it didn’t work though, tears were streaming from her face at a fast pace. “we fought that night you visited his house, i realised something i never noticed before”.

“what do you mean—”

“he looks at you differently” minju continued, “he looked at you like you were the whole world. when his world looked like it was about to crumble he stopped everything to make sure it didn’t. after you left, he went back inside to grab his jacket because he knew for sure that if he ran to you he’d catch up”.

the tears in her eyes started to slow down but the shakiness in her voice told you that it was hard for her to tell you this.

“i stopped him, obviously. i was his girlfriend, i didn’t want him to leave me for someone else. but when i did, he was so mad at me” she chuckled sadly. “and i’ve never seen him so mad, it made me jealous. we fought and fought that night, by the end of it i couldn’t take it. i knew if i let this go on any longer it’d just break us. it wouldn’t be fair on both of us”.

“minju... i’m so sorry” you said quietly. tears welled up in your eyes, you felt the pain in her voice and expression.

“he’s in love with you y/n...” she smiled sadly at her words. “i noticed almost immediately when he saw you in tears right outside his door, and i think when i left his house he realised it too. i think he’s scared, i think he thinks he’s lost you. it’s not your fault, or his. maybe it’s mine actually”.

“it’s not your fault minju, don’t think that”.

“no, i should of known” she wiped her tears away. “he was always talking about you, mentioning little things you two did and would always tell me what flavours or things you liked”.

“he did?”

“yup, would never stop talking about you...” minju finished her conversation, her tone of voice still sounding sad. still, she found a way to cheerily smile at you. “you should tell him”.

“i can’t” you frown, “it’s too late”. you play with the bottle of water in your hands. you knew it wasn’t too late, you were just scared and being a coward. you know if you faced sunghoon at that moment, no words would come out. nevertheless, you wanted to see him, you desperately wanted to see him.

“y/n” minju held your hands, “please go to him, for his sake at least”. she looked at you with shiny eyes, hope in her eyes that you would listen to her.

“i’ll go, thank you minju. i’m so sorry for everything that’s happened too” you reassured her. you stood up from the bench, holding out the water bottle to her. the water bottle she gave you was all you could give back to her.

“this for me?” minju laughed weakly.

“yeah” you rubbed the back of your neck, “i felt like you needed it”.

“thanks y/n” she smiled sincerely. you felt yourself feel warm looking at her, forever grateful for her words.

you felt your feet pick up pace, trying to find their way to sunghoon’s house. you felt your heart burn at the sudden amount of exercise you put yourself through. you felt the wind flow through your hair, the pebbles at your feet almost making you trip. you didn’t care though, all you wished was to desperately get to sunghoon as quickly as you possibly could. you were completely wrong at the start, this was worth risking everything for.

“y/n what are you doing here— ” sunghoon stood outside his house as you made a stop from your constant running, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants he stared at you confused yet concerned. here you were, running towards him with hope in your eyes. he felt his heartbeat faster than anything else.

you didn’t know what happened, everything looked blank and all of a sudden you were in his arms. your arms wrapped around waist with your head against his chest, you couldn’t look in his eyes no matter how many times you told yourself.

“i know i’m stupid and incredibly dependent on you, i know i shouldn’t have ran all the way here because whenever i do i always end up passing out”.

“y/n what’s going on” you felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest. the comfort and the feeling of home engulfed you in so many ways.

“i love you” you pushed him back to finally look in his eyes. you watched as he stood shocked, his eyes widened hearing your words. “park sunghoon i’ve been in love with you for as long as i can remember”.

“you’re telling the truth right?” his shocked expression not falling as he spoke. “you’re in love with me?”.

“i am” you grinned, “i know i don’t have any flowers to give you or anything but—’.

your words were put at a stop due to the fact his lips were on yours. your widened eyes fluttered shut as you returned the kiss back. maybe the books were right, everything felt so cliché. the fireworks went off in your head, it just felt so right. nothing at all could stop the butterflies in your stomach and your reddening cheeks and ears.

“i love you” sunghoon whispered as he held onto your cheek. “i only figured it out recently but better late than never right?”.

“right” you let out a chuckle. you missed this feeling so much, the feeling sunghoon gave you. the feeling of home, comfort and everything imaginable. you felt like you could burst from all the emotions you were feeling.

he brought his forehead to yours, smiling at your blushing state. both of you couldn’t contain the giddiness you felt, you felt like the whole world could go into flames at that moment and you could care less.

all you cared about right at that moment was sunghoon.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop angst

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