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#juno x reader
luxthestrange · 3 days
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Beastars Incorrect Quotes#36 Losers~
This is a song I feel resonates with...Pretty much Louis, Pina, Bill,Riz, Legos-But imagine singing this to the club members... herbivores and carnivores...
Y/n*After seeing and hearing everyone's pasts...while others were piece of work, You look at your clubmates, You sighs and stand on the stage*...
So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall and Can't face the world proudly and dopeless~
You've lost your way, ya think your life is wrecked Well, let me just say you're correct~
Louis*Is sitting down, feeling the worst then eyes widen confused at you* Wait, what?
Y/n*Smirking at him taking dancing steps back with a beat In your step,making a "L" with your finger on your forehead and looking at everyone* You're a loser, baby A loser, goddamn, baby You're a fucked up little whiny bitch~
Lous*Offended seeing you dance around him mocking him* Hey!
Y/n*Dancing around Bill now with a smirk* You're a loser, just like me~
Bill*Rolling eyes and gives you the bird* Thanks, asshole
Y/n*Smilling as you twirl Juno and making a "crazy" finger at Riz You're a screws loose Loser An only one-star reviews-er
Y/n*Twerking and laying dramatically in the floor pointing at Pina*You're a power-bottom at rock bottom But you got company~
Drama Club: This supposed to make me/Us feel better?!
Y/n*Looking at your own reflection and thinking about your past of your own past...and traumas* There was a time I thought no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight! We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich
Louis*Looking at his own hands at all the damage and hurt he caused others from his less-than-ethical deeds and now people close to him and what he did...just to survive for his father*...I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak -
Y/n*Snickers at that and raises a brow at him, Holding a hand out for him to take to spin him around gleefully and patting his cheek...then rolls eyes* Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!~ We're both losers, baby We're losers, it's okay to be a~
As everyone stated their own truth about themselves
Y/n*Getting close to Juno with a smile* Baby, that's fine by me~
Juno*Smiles and starts to get into the groove and proudly singing* I'm a loser, honey~ A schmoozer and a dummy But at least I know I'm not alone~
You then finally reach Legoshi and hold your hand out for him to grab...which he does as you pull him into the light
Both of you in harmony: You're a loser, Just like me~
Legoshi*Leans on your back and looks at you affectionately* You're a loser, baby~
Y/n: A loser, but just maybe if we~
Both of you: Eat shit together, things will end up differently
Y/n*Both of you start to dance in each other's arms as you sing to him your feelings* It's time to lose your self-loathin' Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby Play your card, be who you are~
Legoshi*Swinging with you and stepping on beat*OOOoooooh~
Both of you holding each other's hands as you gaze into each other's eyes: A loser, just like meeeee!~
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hyunsvngs · 5 months
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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader
wc: 10.2k
cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.
synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?
a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You hated going home for the holidays.
You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.
Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.
Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her. 
Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.
“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”
“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed. 
“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”
You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.
Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore. 
There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”
Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”
His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.
“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”
“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness. 
“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”
“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.
“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.” 
Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.
“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.
“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”
“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.
“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”
“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”
Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”
“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”
Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”
“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”
“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”
You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”
Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.
SATURDAY
It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.
The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”
“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”
“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”
You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”
It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”
He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.
“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”
“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”
“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”
Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?
You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.
“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.
“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”
“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.
“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”
You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.
SUNDAY
Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had. 
“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.
Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.
“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.
“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”
“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth. 
Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”
“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth. 
“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival. 
You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch. 
“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.
“Am I?”
“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”
You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”
Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively. 
“It doesn’t bother me.”
You left your hand there for the whole film. 
MONDAY
The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.
At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right. 
Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you. 
It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.
Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-
You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday. 
Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.
You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.
“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”
“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”
Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”
Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”
Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?
He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”
“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”
You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.
Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now. 
In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again. 
TUESDAY
You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.
Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation. 
The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?
“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”
There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”
You grinned. You were.
“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”
Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.
“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”
“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”
“Minho-”
“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”
“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”
The ball has always been in your court.
“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.
It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.
You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.
You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.
WEDNESDAY
Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.
Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect. 
Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-
A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.
Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”
You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”
You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?
“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”
You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
“This is ridiculous-”
“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room.  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.” 
Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you. 
“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”
You paused. “What?”
“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker. 
You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.
You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.
Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”
Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly. 
“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made. 
“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”
“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”
“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”
You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.
“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”
“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”
“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”
God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully. 
“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”
“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”
“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”
“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”
“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”
You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation. 
Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need. 
“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”
“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”
“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?
“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.” 
“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw. 
Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened. 
Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.
What the fuck just happened?
THURSDAY
You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.
Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.
Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.
Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.
You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.
Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too. 
All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure. 
The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message. 
“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.
Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”
“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”
He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”
Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”
He nodded. “I do.”
You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top. 
You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.
“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.” 
He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.
Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.
“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”
“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”
“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”
He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.
“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”
“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”
Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”
With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.
“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”
You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.
“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”
“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.
“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”
"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.
“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”
His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.
You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.
“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.
“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”
You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you. 
You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you. 
“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”
Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.
You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”
You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you. 
He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.
“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”
He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again. 
“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.
“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"
“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex. 
You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you. 
“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”
“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”
“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”
“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”
White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted. 
“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”
You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die. 
“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”
With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable. 
“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”
You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”
6K notes · View notes
cgnab · 16 days
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HAN JISUNG HEADCANONS.
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PAIRINGS: Han Jisung x fem!reader
WARNINGS: nsfw!mdni , sub!han , mommy kink , spitting kink , swearing , begging , desperate!han , unprotected sex , noona kink , masturbation , creampie , dom!reader , nipple play , edging , dacryphilia , riding , mentions of overstimulation .
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ a small gift for my fav @hyunsvngs for achieving 5k !!
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He whines , he becomes a whining mess whenever you touch him . Even if it wasn’t sexual , he just can’t help but whine whenever you touch him and show him any type of affection .
Hannie cries , sobs , pants , & even hiccups . He moans so loud , your neighbors hate you .
When you’re riding him he’d be babbling nonsense “mommy—mama!! Feels so good , pussy’s so tight!“
Whenever you’re fucking , he won’t be just crying he’d also be drooling . He likes to hide his face into the crook of your neck and get messy . He’s always has been messy . He likes to fuck his cum deep inside you then eat his cum out of your cunt . He’s so dirty.
Hannie likes to have multiple rounds , he likes to fuck your pussy with his cum until it’s dripping on your thighs . But he recovers fast , his sex drive is probably high , he’s just so pussy drunk that it feels like he’s breeding you .
He’s so dirty , a little pervert . He likes to steal your panties and jerk off to their smell . He likes to press them on his face , he even fantasize of you wrapping them on his mouth to make him stop being loud .
Hannie leaks a lot , he always ruins his boxers and underwears with how much he leaks . You’d think that he’s cumming if you didn’t know him better . His load could reach up to his chest when you jerk his chubby cock .
He likes it when you use your fingers on him . He wants you to finger his mouth as if it’s his pussy . He also wants you to finger him , even rim him . He really likes when you use anal play on him .
His top kink is mommy/noona kink , he gets so needy he doesn’t even know what he’s saying . “ungh–g’na c-cum!! Mommy–noona noona please!“
Whenever he wants to get really dirty , he likes to jerk his cock on him and piss on your body , whenever he tops he’d loose himself and fuck his piss into you . He’s really dirty he doesn’t even know what he’s doing .
His favorite position is riding , he likes it when you dominate him . He likes the way your hands would play with his nipples and pinch him . He loses himself when you touch him . He wants to be your little good boy , your good princess .
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CONGRATULATIONS JUNO !! you deserve all of it !! :3
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© CGNAB , 2024 ★
661 notes · View notes
rqgnarok · 10 months
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standing ovation - jamie tartt
fandom: ted lasso
wc: 2321
warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 
summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 
author’s note at the end!
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There’s something in the air.
Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.
He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–
The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.
He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.
But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 
Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–
“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”
Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 
Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 
He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.
“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.
“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”
She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 
“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”
“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”
He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”
“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”
Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 
The thought only makes him smile.
“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.
“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”
(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 
“I did see me mum.”
“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.
“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”
“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 
Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 
(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”
Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”
He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”
(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”
“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”
(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 
She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”
“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 
“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”
“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”
“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–
(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.
He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”
(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”
Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”
(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”
“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”
He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.
It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 
“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”
“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”
“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”
Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 
(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  
“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”
“It’s nothin’–”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”
And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 
He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 
“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”
(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 
A beat. Then–
“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”
(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.
_________
precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily
i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!
a reminder that commissions and asks are open!
<3
masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi
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skzms · 2 months
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may smirk emoji... what about something on the conversation we're literally having rn. jisung jerking off and trying to be quiet... holding his t-shirt between his teeth and drooling all over it and just pumping his chubby cock in his hand... maybe his cute little toes curling in his socks and feet thrashing against the bed whenit feels super good....... WHAT DO U THINK
juno, oh juno you don't even know what this does to me
🔞 under the cut
Jisung just flopping down onto his back on his bed, shoving the pillows together underneath his head so he's slightly propped up, can look down at himself where he's already hard in his sweats. He's not wearing any underwear because he loves how the rough material of his sweats rubs against his sensitive head – and he's kind of obsessed with how it looks when he's hard and there's a little wet spot where his cock is tenting the material. It makes him feel all dirty, like he could slip them down any time, which he does more often than he likes to admit.
One hand shoves his hair out of his face, the other comes down to grab himself through the fabric, giving himself a mean little squeeze, and he hisses.
But desperation and the knowledge that's not alone in the dorm claws at his throat, so he shoves his sweats down to just above his knees, rucks his shirt up and underneath his chin, watches his abdomen flex when his cock, rock hard, flushed, leaking, twitches expectantly. He lets his head fall against his pillows, his eyes flutter shut, and his imagination run wild.
It doesn't take much to get him going, it never does. He imagines someone else's hands running down his belly, over his thighs, until he's finally touching his cock. He starts slow, hisses when he finally grips himself; but he won't allow himself the full fist, teases himself with his open palm, runs his thumb over his head first, digs a pretty black manicured nail into the slit until he's leaking enough that the slide gets easy and only then does he start pumping himself, painfully slowly, not squeezing enough to give himself much release. Pre-cum beads out of his cock, and he props an eye open just enough so he can watch it drip down, watch himself spread it all over his cock with a sick sort of satisfaction.
He already feels it, the fuzziness tugging on his consciousness, and he tugs his shirt further up until he can shove it between his teeth, biting down with a wet little moan when he drags his palm over the head of his cock and pleasure zips down his spine. When he does it again, it's almost too much, but that makes it even better, his abdomen contracting as his back arches slightly.
He drags his fingers back down, feather-light, teasing, before he finally wraps his hand around it and starts pumping himself in earnest and oh he will not last today. Every twist of his wrist makes pleasure curl and pulse in his guts, his bottom lip quivering as he whimpers again, eyebrows drawn tightly together as he throws his head back.
A swipe of his thumb over his head and a twist of his wrist has him keening, one of his legs kicking out helplessly, but it's still not enough. He's greedy tonight, wanting more, more, more, so he flicks his wrist harder, grips himself firmer, and it almost hurts and that's why it's perfect – his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he feels the material between his lips get damper and damper with every muted whine. It's so filthy it makes him blush, but it only turns him on more.
The air is filled with his poorly muffled whimpers and the squelch of his hand pumping his cock over and over again, and it's almost too loud, but he can't care, not when his orgasm is right there, so close he can almost taste it. He's really mean with it now, tugs himself harder, makes a tight little fist, his hips bucking up into it desperately, filthily, entirely without rhythm because oh god, oh fuck he just wants to cum, he needs to, he wants to be good. He brings his other hand down, grabs his balls, tugs at them only a little bit–
"Good boy," it echoes somewhere in his head and that's it, the coil snaps, and he cums with a pathetic high-pitched whine, vision going blurry, toes curling in his socks as his hips kick up helplessly, fucking himself into his fist as he spills hot and white all over his stomach and up to his chest.
He milks himself through the aftershocks, trembling as he pushes his fist down onto his spent cock, his whole body twitching with every jolt of oversensitivity, until he can't take it anymore and finally lets go, his hand falling to the mattress helplessly. The room is silent except for his heavy breathing, and somewhere down the hallway someone's door opens and shuts, and suddenly the cum drying on his stomach, his t-shirt, crumpled and wet with his spit, none of that is sexy anymore at all.
skzms' masterlist
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kvrlsefni · 2 years
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Hello *Kicks the door down* I SEE YOU'RE SEARCHING FOR REQUESTS. You know how snezhnaya is kinda based on Russia? Imagine the the harbingers teaching darling Russian. Reading stories for columbina, pantalone pressing his chest to your back while holding your hand to teach you how to write a letter you had problem with, sitting on Pietro's laps and read him his reports,.. yeah just that. Feel free to ignore this ofc! Have a nice day :] ~Raven anon
the harbingers’ little darling ♡
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♤ OMG HELLO !! JAISJWJEJ okAY I AM ABT TO SLEEP BUT I CANNOT STOP THINKING OF THIS AKDNWJSK THAT’S FR SO CUTE??? also i hope u don’t mind but i branched it out a little more and made the language more general like hinting at several if that’s alright ! ;0 it’s ,,, also this is part one (maybe), since i was getting tired and i wanted to post this alr😭
♤ unedited because it’s 4:40am
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you’d be unofficially known as the harbingers’ darling. they all kinda almost don’t trust each other and don’t really agree on anything with each other outside of work, but they really start to get along when it concerns you! i’d imagine like they all have a meeting, and sadly, because you aren’t a harbinger, you can’t take part in it. but that’s okay! you fr have your own little waiting room they made for you. it has comfy seats and a nice view of the outside, and it’s got bookshelves and a small fireplace. it’s really near their meeting room too!
after their meeting (of course, this being a given that it’s not like they have an immediate mission they have to go to at once), the doors immediately open, and this was your sign that you could now enter since their business was now finished.
of course, this isn’t limited only to spending time with all of them at once! each and every one of them at one point, depending on their schedules, love to spent time with you one and one or with a few others as well (though they really would prefer if it was just you two…).
columbina, i like to think, is the one who actively searches for you the most. she loves to hold your hand as you two walk around either at the palace of anywhere for that fact! she also loves it when you two are just in her office or in the garden, sitting around while you two chatter with each other. sometimes, when you two are in her room, she makes you sit down and fixes your hair while she sings for you or you read her a story! after which, she’ll dress you up in clothes she bought the day before or so because they reminded her of you! she also sometimes teaches you new songs to sing in new languages.
if not columbina, then it’s dottore who also actively searches for you as well! he’s always excited to bring you with him when he’s doing his little experiments (though maybe the less extreme ones), and he loves it when you ask him all sorts of questions! it ranges from asking what he’s doing to who’s he doing it to to why he’s doing it. sometimes he doesn’t give you a proper answer on why, or it’s a really plain answer like he felt like it or something, but you liked how excited and fired up he got from doing them, so you liked it when he did them!
whenever you bump into childe, he always asks you how you are! he asks who you were with before you two bumped into each other, and he asks you if you want to hang out with him. he likes to sometimes asks you if you want to practice sparring with him, or he asks if you want him to teach you some new tricks and moves he learned. capitano usually is who opposes this. capitano likes to spoil you and he treats you the gentlest out of all the harbingers, handling you like you were a doll that might break if handled too recklessly. that’s why he’s so against it whenever he’s walking around and he sees you sparring with childe and the 11th is getting a little too worked up. immediately, capitano will pull you aside and say it’s his turn to be with you.
a lot of the time, you find yourself wandering the palace whenever the other harbingers are out. you love it here! it’s so pretty and big and you love to explore! however, sometimes when you do, you find yourself in the presence of the ninth, who for whatever reason, is one of the few who stay here the most.
truth be told, you just love listening to pantalone! you always found his voice so soothing and relaxing, and he always greets you with a smile even when he’s busy with the finances in his office. he’s one of the busiest, having been tasked with dealing with all the finances and so of the fatui, but the few times he’s free for you, he loves to spend spoiling you! pantalone also has a habit of asking you to help him out a little bit in terms of getting him certain books and whatnot. this sometimes leads to him asking if you can understand the language it’s in, and if you can, he praises you and if not, he’ll smile and pat your head, saying it’s okay, and if you’d ever like to learn in the future, he’ll teach you.
of course you go with learning-
learning how to read in those new languages proved to be useful whenever you were with pierro! whenever he’s busy with paperwork or so but you just insist on spending time with him (which, he can has a hard time refusing sometimes), they prove to be useful when you’re reading some reports to him while he’s signing or checking other works! he doesn’t like having any other chair in his office (except for the couch he placed inside for you), so often times, he lets you sit on his lap while you read to him, and he strokes your hair!!
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junosmindpalace · 9 months
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may i request a gojo x reader one shot where y/n is gojo's former student, after she graduated she went out of the country then after 5 yrs she comes back to work at tokyo jujutsu high as a teacher like gojo. y/n used to have a crush on gojo back then (maybe she still does 😋) and now that y/n's back after a long time gojo kinda missed her so they often spend time together. y/n keeps convincing herself it's just some kind of friendly reunion, nothing more but one day during the sister school goodwill event she gets jealous when she sees gojo teasing utahime and interacting with her. gojo wonders what got y/n into a pissy mood and y/n is like "why do you even care? just go back to your flirting session" then that's where gojo finds out she's just jealous. he'll tease her and idk maybe a confession between them will follow? i'm rlly sorry i suck at explaining things but i hope you get most of it and this gets accepted 😭 thanks! 💓
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UNKNOWN / NTH
hi anon! thank you for your request and patience! i changed a couple of details in this request and it turned out soo weirdly angst but the main idea is still there! i hope that’s alright!
3.2k words. a little all over the place.
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“call me every single day, you hear me? you can’t leave me all alone with this guy.” 
shoko doesn’t even look over her shoulder as she jabs her thumb toward the white haired teen standing behind her shoulder, who drops his mouth open in disbelief at her insulting tone. the tension in your chest eased up as you laughed.
“of course.” 
leaving your friends so soon after graduating was hard to wrap your head around, even with a car waiting to take you to the airport outside the gates of the jujutsu tech building and the occasion bump into your suitcase as you shifted your weight between your legs. 
with the assassination of the star plasma vessel and the suguru incident that made your worlds turn upside down, it seemed reasonable that you’d want to stay; immerse yourself in something familiar. but staying at jujutsu tech--in japan all together--was overwhelming. you needed time to figure and sort yourself out; cope without having to relive painful memories every time you passed where the incidents took place. 
leaving the two people who helped you cope during the ordeal with suguru was difficult, but though they too were pained to part from their friend, they also understood the importance of your leave. they weren’t too stressed, though. you’d stay in touch. you promised. 
shoko stepped forward to give you one final departing gift, wrapping her arms around your neck as you immediately reciprocated, and in shoko’s arms did you mull over whether this was the right choice for you for the nth time. 
a couple moments pass before the two of you pull apart, with shoko whispering a threatening “you better call.” one final time, jabbing an accusing finger at you as if you had already broken your promise, before stepping off to the side to allow satoru to get his own affairs in order. he stepped toward you with a roll of his eyes. 
satoru gojo has been an insufferable ass ever since you met him in your first year. to you, he once came off inconsiderate and ill-mannered, and to satoru, you once came off stuck up and uptight. yet somehow the mutual distaste you two had for each other upon first meeting turned into a friendship filled with teasing.
it felt weird leaving satoru behind especially, because somehow along the bumpy road the two of you took to get to where you were now, something yet again shifted in the way you viewed him, a shift you were still unfamiliar with. it felt strange leaving without it figured out. but you’d get a chance to, you hoped. like with everything else in your bizarre life. 
your usual banter insued as satoru took hold of the handle on your suitcase, swinging it back and forth before loading it into the open trunk. you threatened satoru to look out for himself and not be too much of a nuisance while you were away as he did so. he clicked his tongue as he brought the trunk down with a thud! and waved off your false threats. 
”don't miss me too much, y/n.” he smirked over his shoulder, tinted glasses sliding down the slope of his nose as he stepped back up on the sidewalk. cerulean eyes shone under the morning sunlight, fixed on you with an intense gaze in contrast to his easy smile. you looked over your shoulder as you opened the rear car door, mimicking his expression. 
”won't be a problem.”
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the first couple of months went strong. you upheld your promise of calling shoko frequently, and satoru would often squeeze himself into the frame of shoko’s camera to tease or hurl an insult toward you. she’d shoo him off or laugh along, because she too missed the playful banter you all once immersed yourselves in. and though you were far from the paths you once trekked with your friends, only ghosts of those moments lingering on them now, at least there was no trace of your dying friendship.
more time passed and contact became less frequent. life went on, and keeping in touch as regularly as you once did became increasingly difficult. only on occasion were you able to organize a chat, so much yet so little to be said. each new life event shared left you to ponder over even hours after you had hung up the phone. 
and soon enough, a decade had passed. ten years you thought you’d spend in agony over being away from the people and places you considered home flew by considerably fast, and the thought nauseated you slightly as you reminisced on memories from your youth. 
the nostalgia of your teenage years lingered like a light fog in your mind, always finding some way to trace even the most mundane of things back to your old friends, especially satoru gojo. even after ten long, busy years, you still found that annoying white haired friend of yours lingering in the back of your mind. 
though so much time had passed, you hadn’t gone cold turkey with your communication from your friends; only infrequent. you knew of the important things: the promising new students at jujutsu tech, satoru becoming a teacher, the curse that was rika, the night parade of a hundred demons, toji’s son that satoru was now looking over—suguru’s death. all things recollected to you from your texts with shoko and gojo. though neither of them were quite big on details.  
ten years has definitely granted you time to think, to organize, to consider and try new things. you worked through complicated feelings, you met new people, you saw and experienced new things, and certainly had all those things teach you a couple of important lessons. 
and ultimately, after over a decade, you made the decision to return to japan as a teacher at jujutsu tech. 
around this time, you felt a consistent nagging as if there was still a missing, unsorted piece of your life. you believed that perhaps the decision to return home was spurred by the growing intensity of it. it built up slowly over your less frequent phone calls and text conversations with your old friends and the ever growing amount of changing of their lives back home. though perhaps suguru’s death compelled you to return as well. 
you returned the following year after the night parade of a hundred demons. you convinced yourself it would just be a friendly reunion like with the rest of your old friends, but the second you were standing face to face with satoru, your heart said otherwise. 
it wasn’t unusual to feel anxious when reuniting with someone, but the painstakingly long pause that followed upon being reunited after so many years made you suppress a shudder. It was hard to believe the man in front of you was the troublemaker you used to go to school with. It was hard to believe he was even real. 
you used the silence to get a good look at him, just to make sure it was truly him (and you think satoru was doing the same, regardless of his six eyes.) he had gotten even taller, and he now wore his messy locks of snow white hair up. his uniform was still fitted as it used to be, always just a bit baggier than his tall frame. 
but the most prominent difference was his new defining feature, and so you decided to comment on it first. satoru was still in a sort of trance (of shock you guessed; your only indicator were his slightly parted lips) when you broke the ice with a smirk and the words he had parted with you over a decade ago.
"hope you didn’t miss me too much, satoru. what's with the tacky blindfold?” 
and the grin that followed on his lips stretched from ear to ear.
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satoru your coworker wasn't all that different from satoru your classmate. he was still as childish as ever, irritated by the higher ups and an irritation to all those around him. you found that out rather quickly when reuniting with yaga and nanami. you made a dramatic fuss over how much they both had changed, nanami shyly looking down with a slight frown reminiscent of the signature one he wore when he was younger. you didn’t feel it was appropriate to bring up haibara or suguru at any point. 
but your relationship with satoru your coworker was off from your relationship with satoru your classmate. It had been years, and you’ve fallen into your normal rhythm with satoru pretty quickly and easily on the surface. but the passage of time was still evident in your conversations as it was with the changes in your appearances. time matured him (or most likely his ordeals with suguru). even his manner of speaking was so serious sometimes that it caught you off guard. it felt even worse than having him hate you, treating you as if you were a stranger hurting that much more.
so much yet so little had changed. you were taken aback by the amount of maturity in his reasoning for wanting to become a teacher, even if it was so out of place for him, over a catch up brunch. it almost made you feel as if he were a stranger, with a new sense of maturity coupled with his new, more distant look and behaviour.
he’d tease you like he always did, but it didn't have as much bite. he'd show you around tokyo, treating you to desserts and jokingly gifting you funny souvenirs; but because satoru had become so unfamiliar, it didn’t feel as comforting as you thought it would. 
and that nagging feeling that you couldn’t quite put your finger on arose again.
you reunited with mei mei and utahime during the sister school goodwill event, with the latter enveloping you in a large hug reminiscent of the ones you received when you left them over a decade ago. they had all stayed relatively close, with utahime becoming a teacher like satoru at the sister school in kyoto. 
you were good friends with her, always defending her from satoru’s insults and indulging in her (in your case, faux) hatred toward satoru. you two had also stayed in close contact, appreciating all the emotional support she provided and her updates on the events in her life and the jujutsu world (with complaints about satoru tossed in here and there). 
which is why your jealousy was irrational, you thought to yourself as you watched satoru and utahime in the monitoring room. you knew satoru and utahime being the last two people in the world wouldn’t make them fall in love. even if they were, your jealousy was still out of place. if anything, you should feel happy for your two old friends.
but perhaps it had more to do with the distance and familiarity satoru and utahime were able to maintain, even if it was their regular quarreling and distaste for one another. perhaps the way they were able to slip into the routine they’ve kept up for so many years, no matter how ruthless it was, ate at you, reminded you of how different things were between you and satoru. you weren’t two teenagers who’d sometimes catch each other’s stares from across a room. you weren’t attending school together and going on missions. 
and the distance was bound to strain your relationship. but you figured that if there was anyone you’d be able to break back into routine with, it was the troublemaker you had known since the two of you were fresh faced students like the ones he now mentors. 
it was all those little things stacked atop each other, that casual and distant demeanor satoru treated you with as if you were a stranger, time staring back at you in the mature way he, shoko and utahime carried themselves, and satoru slipping into a routine that you were sure you and him would be able to maintain with someone else, made that whole tower of unease fall apart with that final crack. 
he had walked off after you after you had excused yourself from the room, feeling sick the more you thought about the large gap in memories, in time, in knowledge, between you and the others. 
“jealous?” he smirked, clearly amused by your sudden outburst (and deeply curious, since it was so out of character for you). 
“not a chance.”
not in the way he was suggesting, at least. you waved him off. “go back to your flirting session.” 
and Satoru stopped in his tracks, recoiling in disgust over the mere implication. because even he knew that you would never think such a thing of his relationship with utahime, even if he were to one day tell you that something was going on. 
perhaps it was the distance, satoru thought to himself sadly. because while to you satoru didn’t seem to be all that affected by your return, he still saw in you that old classmate of his that made his face burn with simply the strength they exhibited, with only a short meeting of gazes from across a room as a teenager, and his heart ached at emotional distance. there was no way that classmate that knew which treats to bribe him with and what games were his favorite would ever assume such a thing about him. 
getting through to one another was never easy, both of you equally stubborn in your resolve. and when you throw this terrible distance, these horrible feelings of insecurity and confusion, it made the miscommunication between the two of you that much worse. 
but satoru remembers the day you left as if no time had passed at all. he remembers the rising lump in his throat as he watched you say your goodbyes with shoko. he remembers the wave of fear that washed over him as he watched you turn your back from him, reminiscent of the event that took place when his best friend left him for good. he remembers the confession on the tip of his tongue as he looked down at you and into your sharp gleaming eyes, words he’s debated with himself for years over whether or not he was a coward or a hero in not saying.
and right now, as he stares at your confused and hurt expression, your back turned to him yet again, all those feelings wash over him and he feels as if it may be the former, because now he’s let his insecurity hurt you. but he also knows that whether he was a coward or hero then doesn’t matter now. he wouldn’t allow a repeat of what happened all those years ago. he wouldn't let himself hesitate.
he reached to grab your wrist, and you harshly recoiled, shooting him an angry glare from across your shoulder. “what the- hell, satoru? would you just-”
“i wasn’t flirting.” 
“whatever. I don’t-”
suguru knew him better than anyone. shoko knows him better than anyone. you know him better than anyone.
“utahime? really? i would think that you know me better than that.” 
the pout on his face seeped into his voice, and you further struggled in his grip. “things change with time, satoru. you can’t expect me-”
the distance was fine. satoru could do distance. but it was this misunderstanding that made his stomach churn uncomfortably. it was the fact that he seemed so unknown to you. that you seemed so unknown to him. who knew that such a minor misunderstanding would carry so much emotional baggage, invoke such strong reactions from the two of you? 
“can’t use that excuse if i’ve always been in love with you.”
you immediately stopped fidgeting, staring at satoru’s serious expression with wide eyes. his pout settled into a deep frown, and you’re absolutely despising the fact that you can’t see his eyes with that stupid new blindfold. stupid time. stupid change. 
“i’m in love with you,” he said again with a shrug. “and that never changed.”
silence. all you could do is continue to stare at him as he held your wrist. but then you inhaled sharply and satoru released his grip. you took another deep breath, and then…
“how the hell am I supposed to know something like that? it’s been over ten years, satoru gojo. everything feels different- you look different!- and you expect me to know you’ve been in love with me for how long?”
you ranted all your anger toward him as you jabbed a finger into his chest, while he continued to stare down at you with a frown and his hands now buried in his pockets. his lack of a reaction only added to your frustration, and you still felt as if you were staring at a stranger. 
“take off that damn blindfold.” 
his mouth drops into a small o for a moment, before he brings a hand to his face. it feels as if an agonizing amount of time passes as satoru slips the blindfold down from his eyes to hang over his neck. his hair falls into that familiar disheveled heap, and you’re immediately met with a familiar rush of anxiety rushing through your veins as you make eye contact with his blue ones. 
big and bright, and staring down at you with so much longing. his hand stays on his blindfold, and the frown stays etched into his face, but you can finally see those eyes. the ones that sent a wave of warmth over you when they connected with yours. the ones you found yourself gazing at as you leaned your head against a desk, admiring them from a sideways angle as they glistened in a ray of sunlight. one’s you knew you could rely on, not because they belonged to the strongest or because of the power they held, but because they belonged to your best friend, to the boy that made your heart stutter. 
and you’re too emotional finally seeing your satoru gojo to care about the fact that you were now sobbing into satoru’s chest in relief over something familiar, and you cried even harder when his arms wrapped around your frame, head resting sideways into your hair. and you felt stupid for breaking down over something so childish, so minor.
but maybe some things didn’t change and maybe some change was for the better. because you’ve had over ten years to figure yourself out and so did satoru, and with your decision to return home was your decision to return to satoru synonymous with it. 
and you felt satoru finally smile a genuine and childish and familiar sort of smile, into your hair, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about how stupid you felt in that moment. 
and that final unsorted piece of your life finally stopped nagging at you, as if satoru had exorcised a curse that lingered on your back these past ten years. those confusing and unidentifiable feelings you felt for satoru way back when. together, you’d be able to rebuild your relationship with satoru into the way it used to be all those years ago, not a single detail unknown, so you could put all those insecurities and fear to rest. 
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arlertdarling · 7 months
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hi hi! I love love your writing and congrats on 100 followers, you deserve sm more!! I would like to request a fluffy drabble with Levi Ackerman and the prompt “photograph” in modern au :)
thank you so much! ❤️❤️
hii oh my gosh, you are so lovely, thank you!!🥺 i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this, i hope you enjoy it<3
PHOTOGRAPH
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levi x gn!reader, (domestic) fluff, established relationship, modern au
this request is a part of my 100+ follower event; if you’re interested, check out this post!
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“don’t,” levi says through a mouthful of food. usually he’d never do something so uncouth, but with your polaroid camera not-so-discreetly angled toward him, he simply couldn’t risk waiting to speak.
you peek over the camera at him. “aw, please–”
“no.”
“but you look so cute when you eat!” you protest, but levi remains unconvinced. you watch him for a few seconds; the way his cheeks swell and his nose twitches every so often. “like a hamster,” you add under your breath and this time it does harbour a reaction — a deep furrow in his eyebrows paired with a glare.
you shake the camera side to side with a grin and the billion-dollar question on your face. levi exhales harshly through his nose in frustration; your persistence is admirable at best, but now — at worst — it’s simply insufferable. “why now, of all times?” he complains. “you could at least wait until i look more presentable.”
you chuckle and lean over to ruffle his hair. he flinches out of reach at the last minute. “that’s the whole point, dummy. they’re called candids.” you place your elbow on the coffee table and rest your chin in your hand. “besides, i think you look perfectly presentable. adorable, even. a work of art, in fact–”
“stop talking,” he mumbles, shielding his face with his hand so you can’t see it — but you know this reaction all too well by now.
“and now you’re flustered so i want to take a photo even more now!” you sigh and drop your arms and head onto the table in defeat. the only sound between you is levi’s chewing and the clatter of utensils against his plate. having finished your own food a while ago — since levi is a slow eater — you just lay there, tracing the patterns of the table wood with a finger as boredom overtakes you.
“fine.”
your head perks up and your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “what did you say?” you heard him perfectly fine; you just needed to be sure.
levi looks you dead in the eyes, but seems to think better of it, and shifts his gaze to someplace else before speaking. “you can take a photo of me, but only because you’re being so annoying about it.”
your eyes widen and your lips quirk up into a giddy smile. “really? like, right now?”
he frowns. “not right now.”
“but the candids–”
“don’t push your luck.”
you put your hands up in surrender, and for a few seconds, levi just stares at you, but then he falters, breaking out into a small smile and slightly turning his head away out of habit.
the flash of your polaroid camera lights up his features, his pale skin glowing. as soon as it fades, those features fall back into their usual position, and then they twist in realisation; parted lips, wide eyes, flared nostrils, and most importantly, that telltale colour that blooms in his cheeks.
“give me that,” he orders, swiping at the camera, but you just snicker behind your hand like a little devil as the photograph prints. you catch it between two fingers and wave it around, taunting your red-faced boyfriend.
“you said i can take a photo, so i took a photo.” you speak innocently, but your smile is knowing and mischievous. “no take-backsies, levi, you know this.”
the scowl is back, full force, but it has no effect on a face so pink. it’s not long before he sighs and finally gives up. the photo finishes developing, revealing a smiling levi; eyes creased, lip corners curled up, head slanted almost bashfully. the sight of it makes you giggle to yourself, which pulls levi’s attention back to you.
“what?”
you already feel your cheeks beginning to hurt from all the smiling. “oh, nothing. it’s just a really good photo.”
levi scoffs. “no, it’s not.”
you laugh, perplexed. “you haven’t even seen it?”
“i don’t need to,” he grumbles, playing with the remains of the food on his plate.
you tilt your head to try and see his downcast face. “are you mad at me?”
the absence of an answer is an answer in and of itself. you sigh and look back at the photograph. “at least mini polaroid levi isn’t mad at me.”
you feel levi’s eyes on you and look up, meeting his judgmental stare. “you...” he can’t seem to find the words he wants to say, his face all screwed up in a look of faux-disgust. “you’re...”
“the funniest person in the world?”
levi glares at you. “an idiot.”
“yeah but i’m your idiot,” you say, pretending to tuck some hair behind your ear.
levi stands up. “not anymore, i resign.”
“you can’t do that actually,” you argue.
he collects your empty plate and stacks it on top of his with a smirk. “i just did.” then he stands up with the plates and walks out of the room, leaving you a little dumbfounded as you sit there on your living room floor. “i resign too then!” you call after him, but you get no response, just a soft chuckle echoing from the kitchen.
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junoswrlld · 5 months
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boys don't cry (smau & some written)
⟣playlist to listen to while reading
⟣ pairing — Spiderman!Yeonjun x photographer!moa!reader
⟣ genre — idol au, spiderman au, secret identity, collage au
⟣ summary — you are an aspiring photographer who falls head over heels for a member of a famous boy band. Little do you know, this captivating superstar also leads a covert life as Spider-Man. As your romance blossoms, you are drawn into a world of fame, fan culture, and the thrilling revelation of a hidden identity.
⟣ featuring — txt, jiwoong(zb1), jisung(nct), minnie(g-idle), chuu(loona</3)
⟣ Updates — when i cann </3
⟣ warnings — angst(?)
⟣ start- 10/24/23 ⟣ end- nevaaa
⟣ disclaimers- This is all fictional, the way I write and portray idols in this is fake! (just imagine the people yn is friends with aren't in the K-pop groups they're normally in plz )
⟣ universe lore- pls read!!!
the Spiderman comics exist but not the movies.
spiderman is the only superhero so no Ironman, hulk, Captain America, etc.
Yeonjun has only been Spiderman since late 2021
Deadpool is also here but hes just a silly guy
no canon events (no dead parents)
there are villains but they're nowhere as crazy as for example misterio or that weird lizard guy
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profiles darkest timeline goblins other & privates
episodes/chapters
✶ episode 1. stop complaining??
✶ episode 2. #cantdrive
✶ episode 3. thought we had something
✶ episode 4. i know everything
✶ episode 5. protecting the city(yn)
✶episode 6. u were too late </3
✶bonus episode. jumpscare
✶episode 7. 2 baddies 2 baddies
✶episode 8. comeback showcase
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notee... the playlist for this is kinda like sad sometimes :0 but the smau isnt really angsty i promise!!!!! i just made the playlist before i made this so like idk the playlist is mainly based on spidey vibes
yayayayyabyshghag hope all my mootie cutie patooties love this xoxoxo kissesss
tag list!!! (always open) @run2seob @n034sy @roseyrays @jype2papi @beomies-world @captivq @bblyeonjun @yannew @reyarain @cookiehaos @bluxjun @mochijjunie @jesssssmaybankk @dubuii
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iingeniium · 6 months
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Tenya Iida <3
Tenya Iida, the man you married. He believes he first fell in love with you when you smiled so sweetly at him when he waved his hands robotically at you. But shoto believes he fell in love with you when you beat Bakugou's ass during training. (he denies it)
in your second year, he asked you out, nothing to special, but he calculated so many safety routes just in case some wise guys decided to come along. He asked you out with tulips in hand, a card in the other, and a very shaky voice. Midoriya told him if he didn't ask you out now, someone else will.
thus, he asked you out to a lovely picnic in a secluded garden, it was beautiful, don't get me wrong-its just that, he was so quiet around you. He was afraid he would get it all wrong, and when he did speak it was shouting and stutters.
he wanted to hide and crawl in a hole, but you pulled him out of it by kissing his cheek.
(no he wasn't blushing, how unbecoming of him)
it was your third year where he saw a couple proposed, and began to think what ring you would like best. only to stop himself short when he Uraraka pointed out that he was smiling really hard. (he also denied that.)
but it was you who surprised him where you fiddled with his hair when you were simply brushing it. you asked him so sweetly-if he could read to you. and who is he to deny his lover?
as he read to you, he thought to himself, his head in your lap as you play with his hair and reading to you all the time isn't so bad. it was until you asked him if he was okay because his face was all red. he said he was fine.
it was until he graduated alongside you he made his decision and finally got down on one knee.
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luxthestrange · 4 months
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Beastars Incorrect Quotes#26 Too Powefull...
Y/n*Coming in the club room* Hey guys, do you know what happened to the package that was supposed to be in my Mail?... The delivery guy told me they dropped it off here?
Kai: The one with the fucking corset? We all hid it
Club Members*Nod in Unison*...
Y/n What the fuck-GUYS!?
Louis: You’re already too powerful in this school, We hid it for the betterment of Beastkind in this Academy
Y/n...
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hyunsvngs · 7 months
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𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐧 - baseball player bfb!kim seungmin x fem reader
wc: 14.2k
cw: enemies to lovers, very mean dom seungmin, mc makes out w chan in a friend way, mc is dramatic and a brat, seungmin is done w her shit but is very possessive, SMUT MDNI
synopsis: you love your best friend, you hate her baseball playing brother. he’s not been home for a few years during your summers back home, so you can’t wait for another amazing summer - until he returns home.
a/n: thank u all for being so excited abt this <3 sorry for the length. smut warnings under the cut!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: very mean dom seungmin (again), face slapping, borderline exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, heavy dirty talk, reader is a brat, breeding kink, reader is a painslut, begging
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
When you were a mere three years old, you met your platonic soulmate in the form of Kim Sieun. She had the exact same humour as you, loved climbing on the monkey bars and she had a dog. It was your three best friend criterias fulfilled. When she first invited you to her house for a playdate, you were thrilled, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.
You’ve been through everything together. Your first break-ups, your first hangovers, first parties, you name it - you’ve both been present for each other’s momentous events. You were pretty sure you’d both started your periods on the exact same day. She really was the other part of you, the second silver heart piece to your cheap friendship chain you’ve worn for years around your neck. 
The biggest heartbreak was when you moved away to attend university, and Sieun stayed to begin a full-time job immediately after graduation. You’d been separated after being by each other's side for so long, when everything had been so perfect for you two up until then, only miniscule, small-term problems. 
Well, perfect apart from one thing. 
Her brother. Kim Seungmin was the bane of your existence. Ever since he met you, two years older than both you and Sieun, he found it funny to ruffle your hair and make fun of how shy and timid you were. It’s something you’d brush off now, being the person you grew into - confident, loud, straight up stubborn as some might say. When you were younger, though, this cut deep. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and confided in Sieun about the matter, to which she’d giggled and fake-gagged as if she wouldn’t be overjoyed to have you in the family. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and he’d made fun of you for years after as if he knew. You cannot stand him now. Even being in the same room as the guy boiled your blood. 
It was one of the reasons why you got rid of that personality. That wasn’t you. You were shy and timid because you were only a kid, God damn it! You’d love to say it hadn’t affected you, but it had, and you and Seungmin had bickered ever since you gained enough confidence to fight back. It was actually something Sieun found very amusing, insisting that the two of you were fated soulmates. 
Still, as you stood in the airport waiting for Sieun’s arrival to pick you up, you felt blessed. Coming home for the summer was always exciting. You got to see old friends, who would almost always have parties, and another exciting part was that you’d be staying with Sieun for a solid three weeks of it. It was going to be the best summer ever. Your parents had decided to go away on holiday two days before your arrival back home, and you couldn’t have felt more satisfied with the development.
Oh, and - Kim Seungmin would not be there. No, while you were a student busting your ass to make ends meet, Seungmin had obtained a full baseball scholarship to university and went straight into pro baseball once he’d finished. Of course he did. You tried not to let it bother you anymore, that he was so fucking successful while being so smarmy. It wound you up beyond belief, so you just avoided thinking about the guy altogether. 
Clutching onto your suitcase handle, you almost vibrated with excitement when Sieun’s half-dead car pulled up. Honestly, she’d had the same car since you were seventeen, and it hadn’t been fully working then. It was even worse after a few years. She kept saying she’d get her dad to look at it, but she was always out and about doing god knows what in said half broken car. It was a death trap.
Immediately, you saw the car door swing open - and almost fall off completely - when her engine completely stopped. Sieun bustled out of the car to the loading area of the airport, her puppy eyes wide and her legs shaking. She was going to scream, or jump, or die. Maybe all three. You weren’t doing much better - your eyes brimmed with tears when you embraced Sieun in a death grip of a hug. 
“I- missed- you- God, can’t breathe-“ Sieun grunted, trying to push you off. You pulled away, still with teary eyes as you gazed up at her. She was taller than you, almost matching her brother’s height. The whole family was relatively tall. As soon as you both looked at eachother, Sieun was gripping you in a firm hug again, and it was your turn to get suffocated. 
Once you’d eventually stopped hugging each other and crying - it had been approximately five months since you saw each other last - Sieun loaded your suitcase into the car and all but pushed you into the passenger seat. You groaned as you kicked through multiple McDonald’s cups to try and get your feet flat on the floor. Sieun simply giggled, settling into the driver’s seat. 
She plugged in her seatbelt, starting to drive back to her family home. “So, how’s college been? Any cute guys?”
“Sieun, I called you every week, you know what’s happened,” you laughed, playing around with the settings on her car to try and get the radio on. Did it even have a radio?
“The radio’s broken.” Of course it is. Well, it couldn’t get any worse - you’d already failed the Bechdel test. 
You leaned back against the seat, fingers playing with the friendship necklace chain. You hummed, trying to think of something Sieun may not know. “Well, there was this one guy. Super my type. Stoic, a little bit bitchy, you know? Dark hair, and all that. But when we ended up sleeping together, there was no chemistry.”
Sieun groaned in sympathy. “You know, I hate that! You really like a guy, and then he doesn’t even know where the clit is. It really pisses me off. How’s classes though?”
Sieun normally didn’t ask this many questions straight off the bat, especially not ones she knew the answers to. She was distracting you, sweetening you up by acting like she was just so interested in you. Something was fishy, and it wasn’t the strange smell of her car. When you turned to look at her, her plump lips were pouted as usual, covered in lip gloss - but there was an unmistakable twitch to them. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at the road ahead of her. She was hiding something.
You blinked. She started humming along to a song on the radio. There was no song on. Said radio was broken. “Sieun. What gives?”
Sieun sighed, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel. “Okay! I didn’t know how to tell you. I know this was meant to be our super amazing summer, face masks and beaches and just general slaying, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”
You realised you were arriving onto her street, the big house always taking you by surprise. You wanted to focus on Sieun’s words, but you were instead distracted by the driveway. Sieun’s parents shared a car, and Sieun had her own car. 
There were two cars in the driveway. Sieun’s parents’ car, a silver tank of a thing that looked like it could get through a boulder. Then, a sleeker car, perhaps closer to a sports car - much cleaner, much more expensive… with a personalised licence plate. No. No.
“My brother’s home.”
You wanted to die. Gone were your slay summer plans - now you’d be perpetually arguing with your best friend’s annoying older brother. He did absolutely everything deliberately to piss you off. Taking way too long in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you needed to pee, disconnecting the games controller when you were finally about to finish a boss fight… just petty activities like that. 
Why now? Why had he chosen this summer to come home, when he’d been away for every other summer playing baseball or whatever he does? No. He didn’t deserve to be back right now. You shook your head at Sieun. “I’m not going to let him ruin our awesome summer.” 
Sieun spluttered out a laugh. “Okay, Seungmin’s not the devil. You two bicker like an old married couple, y’know. Maybe there’s-“
“Shut. It.”
You didn’t have the time or the patience to hear yet another ten minute long spiel about how Sieun and her parents strongly believed that you and Seungmin were fated soulmates. The little patience you had completely disappeared when a figure bounded up to the car window. You turned to stare through the glass. 
Kim Seungmin. Stood there, beaming at you with that dumb smile that he always had when he was ready to wind you the fuck up. You had thanked every single god that your window was still rolled up, maybe you could just hide until he got bored and left - until Sieun rolled the window down with an evil chuckle. 
Then, you looked at him - like, really looked at him. The chubby cheeks he’d once possessed had disappeared with age, now sporting some nice looking cheekbones and a sharp jawline. The braces were gone, pearly white teeth showing with his smile, and his hair. God, his hair. He’d dyed the front of his hair blonde, and it was just slightly parted in the middle to show his forehead. He cocked his head at you, eyes glinting with menacing delight at your appearance. Oh no.
“Welcome back, brat.”
The bane of your existence had gotten fucking hot.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It had just gotten worse. Once he’d pretended to have an ounce of chivalry by helping you take your suitcase inside, Seungmin had immediately reverted to the person he was the last time you saw him. Which was a while ago, by that point, since he’d always been too busy playing baseball games to make an appearance in your life for the past few years. You hadn’t really seen him since you went to university. It honestly made you feel relieved, but now you’d seen him - well, he was definitely better looking than he had been. That fact was only reinforced to you as you walked through their long hallway, taking in all the family pictures that had been up for so many years. You were even in a few of them, chubby cheeks and acne galore as you stood with your arm around Sieun. 
You’d stared at him all the way through dinner, in all honesty. After your second, adopted parents had greeted you and Sieun’s mother had cried upon seeing how much you’d grown - you hadn’t grown since you were thirteen, being on the shorter side of things - you’d all sat down to eat the hearty meal that she'd prepared. Seungmin sat in front of you in his assigned place, something you previously would’ve hated, but you could at least analyse him.
Yeah, something had changed. He was aesthetically pleasing, but you hadn’t forgotten his fucking behaviour. He was a menace. You shoved another forkful of the homemade lasagne in your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at the boy sitting in front of you. 
His eyes flickered to look at you, but you didn’t even think about looking away. His eyes were so dark. Stoic, almost, and he was like… okay, yeah, he looked like your ex-fling from college. That’s weird. It didn’t even stop you maybe bordering on finding Seungmin attractive, as much as it put you off of your lasagne to even think of the concept.
“Can you stop fucking staring at me?” Seungmin hissed, his fork clattering down to the plate with an eye watering noise. You huffed, reaching forward to stab him with your knife before Sieun yanked your hand back. 
“Who said I was staring at you? I’m eating my fucking food, you heathen, and everytime I look up your ugly face is right in front of me-”
“Oh, I missed this!” Sieun’s mother smiled, her eyes fond. “Let me just get a camera, and I can take a picture of you three.”
Later on, in Sieun’s room, you both sat with your legs laid up against the headboard and sheet masks on your face. The anger was still burning in your stomach, but you were trying not to let everything revolve around him, like it always did. 
“So, we’re going to watch Seungmin’s baseball game tomorrow. Mum and dad are super excited about it,” Sieun said, painting your nails where your hand laid on her stomach. You groaned, feet kicking against the wall with small thuds. Sieun’s hand paused with the tiny paint brush, turning to look at you through narrowed eyes. “You don’t think he… looks different? Everyone’s been saying that since he came home.”
“Looks different?” You snickered. “Still looks pretty fucking weird to me. Seriously, how are the two of you even related? You’re pretty, nice, funny, and he’s so fucking- ugh! I can’t even explain it, and he-”
Sieun snorted. “You think he’s hot.”
You gasped, pulling your hand away. The nail polish smeared all over your finger, which was decidedly the one you used to point menacingly towards your lifelong best friend. “I do not! He’s gotten taller, yeah. The hair’s… different, but that’s the only thing that’s changed. He’s still fucking annoying, even after getting his braces off, and-”
“And you’ve noticed all these things about him,” Sieun sighed, leaning up and readjusting her whole body to sit cross legged, facing you. She put the paintbrush back in the nail polish bottle. The sheet mask made her look a lot less friendly than she was trying to be. The Sheet Mask Murderer could be a good horror film, you pondered, as she stared at you. “Bestie, I’m not going to be upset if you have a crush on my brother, you know? I know he’s grown up in the past year, and so have you. Things could be different now, and… you could be part of the family, officially, I guess.”
You screwed up your face, shock painting your expression. The sheet mask got caught in the lines of your forehead. “You’re deranged, Sieun. You know that, right? Like, you’ve actually lost the plot this time.”
Sieun sighed, fingers reaching to peel the sheet mask off of her face. “I have always been deranged.”
“Well, yeah, there is that.”
She flopped back down next to you, dark hair splaying around her head like a halo. “We will still have the best summer. I promise you.”
“Okay, my conditions are that we have to go to a lot of cool parties, get amazingly drunk and maybe fuck one or two people. Deal?”
“Um, duh? Deal.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’d dreaded the baseball game all day. For starters, you were going to see baseball, something you had absolutely no clue about. Secondly, it was your literal enemy’s baseball game. It was also one of his pro games, and was taking place at a massive stadium where just about everyone seemed to know who Seungmin was and who his family was. You’d already had to witness Sieun posing with a peace sign for multiple selfies with fans once you’d all found your seats, and Sieun’s mother had already put an arm around you to show you exactly where Seungmin would be once the game started.
“He’ll be over there,” She pointed to a part of the field. You didn’t really care. You had no clue what baseball was or any of its rules - just that there were bats and they hit balls and ran. You decided that was all you needed to know. You weren’t going to do any research for it, not if it was him playing. 
You and Sieun had dressed up, too, because Sieun had thankfully found a beach party for you all to go to later. ‘All’ sadly included Seungmin and his gaggle of just as annoying friends. The only one you really got on with was Chan, who was mature and seemed to be ageing ten times quicker due to the stress the rest of the group caused him. You both kissed when you were drunk and had agreed you were just friends who liked to kiss, which was optimal for you, really. You had decided that you would dress up nicely in a borderline slutty white dress and sandals for the party, and you had makeup on. It was most definitely for the party, and not for any other reason.
When the game started, you thought you were going to have a heart attack and die. While Sieun and her family were cheering out Seungmin’s name, all you saw was that ass in tight, pinstripe trousers. He was grinning, waving over to your section - definitely not at you, he hated you and you were literally looking at him with the most shocked expression in that moment. He looked good. You decided it was okay to admit that mentally, because no one was ever going to hear you say it. His ass looked peachy and you wanted to bite into it like it was one, and maybe see what the front of his body looked like - all of it.
It all looked good, at least when he was wearing clothes. Broad shoulders pulled that jersey tight around them, and his hat was pulled low to almost obscure his dark eyes. When he rolled his neck, clicking it out with one broad hand before grabbing the ball, you knew your panties were wet. Soaking, actually, because he looked so broad and so tall and so fucking powerful on that pitch. You’d always had a thing for men who looked like they could fuck you like you were beneath them. The fleeting thought that Seungmin would definitely do just that caused your cheeks to blaze.
Obviously, his team won. Obviously he did, because then you had to stand there afterwards when his whole family hugged him and you just stood there kicking pebbles before wincing that it hurt your bare toes. Fuck sandals. Fuck Seungmin. 
Once he’d hugged Sieun, he turned to you, cheeks slightly pink from the exertion of the sport. You briefly thought about how baseball wasn’t even that tiring. One stripe of black paint on his cheek caught your eye when you looked at him. When Sieun elbowed your side, you looked up, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin blinked at you, hands in his pockets with a cocky smirk. You knew what he was waiting for. 
Mumbling, you spoke - “Congrats.”
“Say it properly, brat.”
“Fuck you, I don’t say what you want me to say!” You kicked a pebble at him successfully, smiling in accomplishment when it bounced off of his knee. He simply scowled, repeating what you said in a meh bleh, bleh bleh type of way. When you let your arms drop from your chest to strangle him to the floor Bart and Homer style, Sieun gripped you by the back of your bodycon dress and dragged you back to stand next to her. 
“Go get changed for the party, Seungie,” She said, keeping you in her hand like you were a rabid dog on a leash. “And you. You can’t just try to strangle my brother-”
“How did you even know I was going to strangle him?”
“Because, it’s not the first time!” Sieun shouted, stomping her feet like a child. She finally stopped holding onto you, huffing as she turned to look at you fully. Seungmin’s parents had left to get to the car, insisting on giving you all a lift to the beach where the party was held. Your parents would never. You’d lost count of how many times you had blisters from walking back from somewhere five miles away because your mother was engrossed in another show on television. Seungmin raised an eyebrow at the both of you. 
“I’m gonna go get changed.” He finally spoke, waving towards the direction of the locker room. You grimaced.
“Okay, and? I don’t care,” When you watched Seungmin walk away, eyes unable to tear away from that tight ass in those trousers, you could practically feel Sieun’s own eyes boring into your face. Finally turning to look at her, you saw a slight smile on her lips. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything, bestie.”
You stormed off to the car, in a foul mood now that you’d been caught by Sieun ogling her own brother. Just to make matters worse, you had been designated to shimmy into the middle seat of the back because you were the smallest, so you’d be sat in between the two siblings. Brilliant. Just ideal, really. Thankfully, Sieun’s parents had already put the air con on. The heat of the summer had been killing you in that packed baseball stadium. 
“So, what did you think of Seungmin?” Sieun’s dad asked you. He looked a lot like Seungmin actually, just an aged version with salt and pepper hair. You smiled politely, about to respond before Sieun cut you off.
“Dad, don’t. She’s already wound up.” You wanted to kiss Sieun. You could not discuss what had just happened, including the game. You’d spent the whole time drooling over the bane of your existence. When Seungmin finally got to the car, you side eyed him in order to see what he was wearing, and were more than pleased to see he was in a light grey t-shirt and baggy blue jeans. Good. Nothing tight. 
The beach party was packed when you arrived there. A lot of sweaty young adults smoking weed, drinking and perched around a campfire or dancing near the portable speaker playing music quietly. All you could think about was how much you deserve a drink after the day’s events, and you were quick to drag Sieun over to Chan when you spotted him. Dark curly hair hidden under a hat and a sleeveless black tank top. Unmistakably Chan, and also unmistakably someone who would donate alcohol to a good cause. 
He immediately looked up at you, his smile wide with dimples adorning his cheeks. You saw Seungmin flop down next to some other friends he had from the corner of your eye. Chan caught your attention though, handing you and Sieun a beer each. “Hello, you. Welcome back to the town.” 
“Channie!” You squealed, taking the beer from him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He subsequently pulled you onto his lap and Sieun giggled, sitting in the sand next to him. You’d always been close with Chan, and you wouldn’t be lying if you said you found him attractive. Those arms showing in the sleeveless top were definitely doing something for you that night, but you weren’t sure if it was the pent up aggression from earlier. You immediately pressed the beer to your lips at the thought, swigging down a lot of the liquid. 
Then, it just felt like the drinks kept coming. Over and over you were drinking beers that were handed to you by either Chan or Changbin, one of the others you were friendly with, and you found yourself becoming tipsy and slouching on Chan’s lap. The fire burned your eyes a bit when you stared into it, but you were still giggling, leaning your head back on Chan’s shoulder.
Seungmin glowered, turning to Sieun and speaking almost inaudibly. “Stop her drinking. She’s making a fool of herself, all over Chan like that.”
“They’re friends, you idiot. She’s not even drunk, they’re just always like that!” You didn’t have time to thank Sieun for defending you immediately against her own brother because Hyunjin was coming over to you with two small plastic shot glasses. One sniff of the liquid proved it was vodka, a fact you weren’t surprised about - Hyunjin loved to get utterly white-girl-wasted at any party. His smile was wide and eyes half-lidded already when he looked at you. 
“This is for you,” Hyunjin whispered. His fringe almost obscured his face as he handed a shot glass to you, and offered the other to Chan. Chan held out his hand, pushing it softly back to Hyunjin. Hyunjin literally just shrugged his shoulders, toasting your own shot before knocking his own back. He didn’t even make a face when taking shots, which was probably the fact about Hyunjin you were most jealous of - along with his ethereal beauty, obviously. You grimaced when the liquid hit your own taste buds, glugging it back thankfully. You couldn’t gag on Chan right now. 
The music filled your ears as the sun began to set. Someone had turned the speaker up just a bit louder, and Jisung had started to dance and embarrass himself. It was the usual behaviour. You saw Changbin chatting to some girls you and Sieun had gone to school with, and Sieun got up to go and join, leaving Seungmin chatting with the other boys on the other side of the bonfire. You sat quite happily on Chan’s lap, listening to him telling a story from work.
“I mean, it was insane. Hannie quite literally wrote this entire song in like, five minutes. We were all super drunk. I have no idea how he did it,” Chan said, hands flying everywhere in his story. You blinked at him for a moment, processing who Hannie was. Ah. Han Jisung. Hannie. The round-cheeked boy was still twerking across from you. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, ‘m just a bit tipsy now,” You giggled, nuzzling into his cheek. Chan laughed at your level of clinginess, hand placed on your hip comfortingly. “Sorry, Channie.”
“That’s okay. Hey, remember a few years ago? You always wanted kisses from me and Changbin when you were drunk, heh,” Chan looked at you, eyes fond. When you finally looked into his eyes, it was like your brain caught up with what he was saying. Kisses? God, that’d be so good.
“Kisses. Oh my God,” You whispered, eyes wide. Chan threw his head back, hand over his face while he laughed this time. “Channie.”
Chan sighed, finally looking at you. “Yes? What is it?” He knew what it was. You surged forward, pressing a familiar friendly kiss to his plump lips. He raised his eyebrows in shock, pulling you back by his grip on your hips.
“I cannot kiss you right now. Seungmin is there, and he is looking at us.”
“Who cares about that guy? He’s an ass,” You mumbled, pressing your lips to Chan again. Chan sighed into the kiss, finally giving up and letting his lips brush against yours. You loved kissing Chan. It was always so fun, so familiar, just two friends making out when drunk. It was one of your favourite pastimes, to be honest. You were just getting into the kiss when you felt hands on your waist, scooping you up and throwing you over one broad shoulder. You heard Chan laugh while you were disoriented, trying to work out whose shoulder you were even on and why are you walking away from the beach party?! You were having so much fun! 
“What is goin’ on?!” You shrieked, legs flailing around. You were slurring at this point, and you even heard Sieun giggling over the music. Finally, you heard a sigh as the feet of the body you had been stolen by started to wade through the sand and onto the street.
“We are going home. That’s what’s fucking going on,” Seungmin. You grimaced, wriggling to try and get off of his shoulder, but the grip he had on your body was unbelievable. “Why the hell were you doing that?”
“Doing what? Kissing Chan? I always kiss Chan.”
“I don’t want you to do that anymore, okay?” You huffed at his words, resorting to slamming your fists on his back as he walked quickly down the street. He didn’t even flinch. “Are you listening to me, brat? I don’t want you doing that.”
“You are not my fucking dad, Kim Seungmin. You don’t decide who I kiss!” You sounded like a petulant child, whining and squirming around to be put down on your feet. Finally, Seungmin grabbed your hips with both hands, placing you down on the floor. Cars were speeding past you as you both stood on the pavement. You crossed your arms over your chest, vision slightly blurry from the intoxication and body covered in sand. Seungmin didn’t look to be doing any better, beige specks of sand in his dark hair and his grey t-shirt completely covered. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head when looking at you.
“I may not decide who you kiss, but I’m gonna be mad if you do that again. Got it?” Seungmin was stoic, sharp as he spoke in a monotone voice towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows. What? Why did it matter? “He’s my friend.”
“Okay, and? I don’t care.” You repeated your words from earlier. Seungmin huffed, blowing a strand of blonde hair from his forehead. You looked at him. He looked at you. Then, he was turning around, walking down the road in the direction towards his house. You gasped, appalled that he’d leave you there on the side of the road like some kind of bag of trash. 
After a few long strides, you heard him groan faintly in the distance. He stopped dead still, turning around to you with a grimace. “Are you coming, or?”
You stood your ground. “Nope.”
“Fine, stay there and be killed by a raccoon or something, fucking brat. Or worse, an actual murderer. Wouldn’t that be scary? A murderer just killing you while you’re standing there in your sandals. Can’t even protect yourself, can’t throw your shoe at him like you do with me because what harm will sandals do-” Seungmin stopped talking when you ran at him, eyes wide as you wrapped your arm around his own. He huffed, trying to shake your arm off of his, but you held on tightly. Your bottom lip quivered. You were such a baby when it came to scary things like raccoons and murderers. 
“‘M scared now, Seungmin.” You whispered, leaning your head on his arm. You could practically sense Seungmin rolling his eyes as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to his warm body. 
“Only five minutes now. Five minutes and we’ll be home, okay?” You nodded, trying to keep up with the strides of his long legs. 
In bed that night, laying in Sieun’s bed sans Sieun, you couldn’t help but wonder just what the fuck that was. Seungmin was almost nice for a moment. Sure, he’d had that weird freak out about you kissing Chan - that was strange - but then he’d not left you on the side of the road. A few years ago, he would have left you on the pavement and then proceeded to go get a car to run you over on said pavement. He had changed.
Kim Seungmin was hot. You’ll admit that, unfortunately. But now Kim Seungmin was hot and he had morals, too. 
That one would be hard to process.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The next morning, you were woken up by Sieun’s arm across your forehead and her soft snores in your ear. You briefly felt extremely guilty for making sure she hadn’t gotten home safe, but judging by her still sleeping, she’d left after you’d fallen asleep. You wanted to wake her, to ask her what the fuck her brother’s deal was, but you settled on heading downstairs to get some breakfast and calm your stomach. It felt like a bomb had gone off in there. 
You started to make your way downstairs to get breakfast, but you walked straight into Seungmin’s chest as soon as you left Sieun’s bedroom. He stood with a mug of coffee in his hands, blinking down at you like you were, in fact, a bomb that had just gone off in front of him. 
You stared up at him, eyes wide. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Move, brat.”
Oh. So he was just going to forget him being borderline nice ever happened? What a fucking- ugh! You scoffed, looking down at the coffee. 
“You know this isn’t your room right, dumbass? Take your coffee into your own room.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, barging past you to stand by the door.
“It’s for my sister, dumbass.” You wanted to ask where’s mine, then, but Seungmin would only laugh at you and move on with his life. It annoyed you beyond belief that Seungmin had actually been nice to you the night before and then continued to act like absolutely nothing happened. You wanted to positively kick him across the face like the Mortal Kombat games he used to unplug your controller on.
Still, you had hope for the summer. Two straight days of hell would not change your mind. You just had to get through today, a chill, relaxing day with Sieun where you both nursed slight hangovers and probably cried over making mistakes the night before. Then there was hope for some fun tomorrow. 
Tomorrow was the annual camping trip with your friend group. It only went on for one night, in the woods close to your actual home a few streets away, but it was something everyone looked forward to. Unfortunately, given that your friend group was also Seungmin’s friend group, and that he was back now, it meant he would be there. This was unlike the annual camping trips before, and you were dreading his presence. You just had to avoid him, and he wouldn’t stop you kissing your friends. He wouldn’t stop you having fun if you just acted like he wasn’t there. The thought made your blood boil. 
You hid in the bathroom until you heard Seungmin’s footsteps recede back into his bedroom, and then you emerged. Fuck breakfast. You needed a good heart-to-heart with your best friend. Stomping back into the bedroom, you were met with Sieun’s eyes still only half open, just about emerging from above the mug.
“Oh, hey,” Sieun mumbled. She blew the hot liquid in the cup and then took a sip, humming with satisfaction. You stood there, arms crossed across your chest and foot tapping with annoyance. Sieun looked at you. You looked at her, a frown on your lips. She sighed. “What’s he done now?”
“Well, what the fuck was last night, Sieun?!” You exclaimed, throwing your body down on the bed. Sieun snorted, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. “Sieun, he picked me up and took me from a party. What was that? And, and! On the way home, he was kind of being… nice?! Then, just now, this morning, he was being absolutely horrible again!”
“And this annoys you because…? You’re always horrible to each other, sweetie.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” You huffed, turning over to scream into a pink heart pillow on Sieun’s bed. “He’s coming tomorrow, too. Like, as if it could get any worse!”
Sieun hummed. You heard the mug clink onto the bedside table, probably to live next to another ten mugs for about three weeks. “I’ll make sure he’s on his best behaviour.”
You grumbled into the fabric. Then, as if you’d completely forgotten about it, a blurred memory came into your head. I don’t want you doing that anymore. He’d said that in confidence, stood there in front of you, all long legs and pouty lips forming the words. “He… he said he didn’t want me kissing Chan anymore.”
Sieun spluttered. “He- he what?! Why would he say that?”
You shrugged. “D’no. Weird though. It… it made me feel weird. Like, almost shy. I don’t know.”
“That’s because you have a big old crush on my brother. We’ll address that later, though, because it seems my brother may have a big old crush on you,” You lifted your head, blinking at her. The drink had gone to her head last night. She was now clinically insane, beyond deranged by the sounds of it. Her eyes were peering out of the window opposite her bed in deep contemplation. “I mean, it makes sense. You two do bicker like an old married couple, but maybe that’s your shtick.” 
“I do not have a big old crush on your brother. He does not have a big old crush on me. We are mortal enemies.”
“Mmhm, okay, honey. We’ll see what happens tomorrow, yeah?”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You didn’t sleep a wink the night before the camping trip. Of course you didn’t. Your thoughts were riddled with stupid remarks and baseball uniforms and long legs looking amazing in said baseball uniforms. Eventually, you’d actually cried a bit, just wanting him to leave your mind. Then, you felt pathetic crying over a man. That disgusted you beyond belief.
It had you thinking that Sieun may have been onto something. Maybe you did have a stupid crush on her brother. Maybe it had never left, ever since you’d caught sight of his chubby cheeks and mop of dark hair when you were both little. You’d have to just overcome it. Arguing with him would probably help, and you did that everyday, so it’d be fine. Manageable, at least, so long as he kept his goddamn nose out of your business. You’d had stupid crushes on people before, and you knew this one could leave very easily and very quickly.
Unfortunately, due to the lack of sleep, you had been forced to smother your eye bags in concealer that was maybe a shade too light. Seungmin had commented on this when you and his sister loaded your stuff into his pristine car, grimacing at the sight of you.
“You look like a ghost, brat.” You had immediately tried to rub the concealer off with your fingers, and now it was just a smeared mess on your otherwise decent skin. Fuck that guy. Fuck Kim Seungmin. Fuck yourself, too, because why were you trying to adhere to what he said?
It had still been plaguing your mind when you laid next to the lake in the woods while everyone drank around you. You had taken your premixed cocktail in a can to the lake not too far from the lake, and were perched in your blue bikini trying to get somewhat of a tan. Your skin was only blazing with anger, not sun. All of a sudden, you heard some branches snapping, and opening your eyes served you with the face of your best friend.
“Truth or dare. C’mon, everyone’s playing.”
You were lugged back to the campsite, groaning with your can still in your hand. Chan perked up immediately at the sight of you, patting his lap in invitation. 
You went to walk over, smiling at his dimpled cheeks, but quickly turned to Seungmin. “Sorry, Channie, I should probably check if I’m allowed first.”
Everyone erupted in roars, even Chan, who dragged you by your waist onto his lap while still giggling. Seungmin practically glowered, eyes staring you down with the anger within him. 
“Let's start with you then, brat,” Seungmin said, motioning towards you with the hand wrapped around the neck of his beer. “Truth or dare?”
You pretended to think. You always chose the same thing. “Truth.”
“Boring!” Sieun screamed, her pink bikini strap slipping down her shoulder. Changbin used two fingers to push it back up into place. Always a gentleman. “Okay, what is the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”
Seungmin turned to Sieun, displeasure written all over his features. “It’s literally meant to be me asking the question.”
“I don’t care.” Sieun shrugged. She also knew what the biggest lie you’ve ever told is, judging by the smirk on her face when she turned back towards you.
You smacked your lips together. Okay. If he had a crush on you, it would be instantly severed in that moment, because you were about to wholeheartedly tell the truth. “Seungmin, I was the one who broke your PS4. I spilled coffee over it.”
“What?! You fucking brat!” Everyone screamed again, Chan howling with laughter at Seungmin’s exasperation. “Tell me that you aren’t serious. You told me that-“
“I told you that the dog peed on it?” You giggled. Seungmin nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, no. It stank of coffee, so you’re kinda dumb for believing me in the first place.”
Seungmin huffed. His cheeks were red, breathing heavy. Oh, he was so mad. Good. You lived your life specifically to piss Kim Seungmin off.
“Okay, Seungmin. Truth or dare?” Changbin spoke up. He didn’t need to speak up, because his voice was like a foghorn already. Seungmin sighed again, turning to the shorter male. 
“Dare.”
“I dare you to kiss Dahyun.” You turned to the girl in question. She was quite quiet, only speaking when spoken to, but you and Sieun had been friendly enough with her back in high school. She’d been close with Chan, though, and had kind of stuck with the group since. You thought she didn’t even like Seungmin either, but the way she perked up at the statement said otherwise. 
Seungmin, however, was still looking very pissed off. He put his beer bottle on the floor, sighing as he made his way over to Dahyun. You heard Jisung giggling, making lewd comments and noises in Minho’s ear, who just pushed him off with a sigh of fondness. All of a sudden, Seungmin’s lips were pressed to hers. You could see everything. Tongue and spit swapped between the two, and you found yourself turning to look at your drink instead. Awkward.
It made you feel awkward. More than that, though, it kind of made you feel weird. You weren’t sure of the emotion exactly, but you knew you wanted to leave instantly and never see Seungmin or Dahyun ever again. You also wanted to scream. Especially when you finally let yourself look up, when the cheers receded to murmurs and Seungmin had pulled away from Dahyun, looking straight at you. 
You locked eyes with him, blinking. Then, you saw fucking red.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You blurted, seeing Seungmin’s eyes widen at your outburst. Dahyun’s eyebrows raised, looking at you with fear. You turned to her with a timid smile. “Not you. Him. The bastard you kissed seems to think he can tell me what I can do, who I can kiss, yet he seems to be doing whatever he wants? Is this a joke, Kim Seungmin?”
Sieun laughed awkwardly from her position next to Changbin, rising up onto her feet. “Okay, perhaps this doesn’t need to happen right now-“
“No, let the brat speak to me how she wants. It’s not going to fucking end well, and she knows it,” Seungmin spoke, throwing his beer bottle down on the floor exasperatedly. He stood up, light blue baggy jeans looking slightly brown with the mud and an oversized jersey falling off of broad shoulders. You took in his appearance with nothing but an angered expression, cheeks burning with rage when you realised he still looked really fucking good with his hair dyed like that. Something about him shouting at you was turning you on, too, but you decided to address that at a later date. “I told you not to kiss Chan for a good reason.”
You scoffed. You could practically hear Chan’s hair turning to grey from stress behind you. “Oh, yeah? What reason is that? He’s my friend.”
“You should- you should only kiss people you like. People you’re interested in,” Seungmin was shouting now, finger pointing at you determinedly. You rolled your eyes, making him stomp his foot in the mud. 
“I guess that means that you like Dahyun then, huh?” You said, remembering to give Dahyun another smile. This really wasn’t against her. She was sweet, and she hadn’t done anything wrong. Kim Seungmin just grinds your fucking gears. 
You realised way too late that maybe you didn’t want to know the answer to the question that you’d so loudly shouted. 
Seungmin ran his hand through his hair, licking his lips. You tried to avoid staring at his mouth when he eventually retorted. “Maybe I do, brat. What’s it to you?” 
You blanched. It was nothing. It was nothing to you, really, but you definitely couldn’t back down now, even if you could sense the rest of your friendship group feeling slightly awkward in the wake of tension. You folded your arms over your chest, staring Seungmin down while you searched your brain earnestly for something that would hurt. 
“It’s nothing to me. I don’t give a fuck about you, Seungmin.”
Seungmin looked like he’d stopped breathing, staring at you with intensity in his eyes. You couldn’t quite work out what emotion they held, but you had a feeling that you may have gone a bit further than your normal bickering. It was only a matter of time, really, with you having a very short temper and all. 
As if it had never even happened, Seungmin rolled his neck and shrugged. He sat back down on the floor with a flurry of movement and with another shift, his arm was around Dahyun and he was pulling her close. She looked like she wanted to run very far away, but then Seungmin was handing her another beer and it was apparently fine. 
Changbin cleared his throat. “Okay, shall we continue?”
The rest of the night went with seemingly no hitches. Everyone drank, sang, danced, and the tents were slowly filling up with people retiring from the night, their skin still dewy with the water from the lake close by. You even managed to avoid getting riled up by the bastard sitting opposite you, so that was an achievement in itself. Eventually, you retired to the tent you, Sieun and Chan had been designated, limbs stiff from sitting down for so long.
Wiggling into your sleeping bag, you zipped up the fabric with your whole body inside like a cocoon. You could hear mumbling and giggles from the next tent over, but choosing to ignore it, you shifted over to face Chan. He was still awake, scrolling through his phone. You weren’t sure the guy ever fucking slept, in all honesty. Sieun snored behind you steadily, the sound of cicadas breaking up the noise of her heavy slumber. 
Chan blinked up at you, locking his phone when he saw you were still awake. The moonlight just about seeped through the walls of your temporary home for the night and you could see his features, sharp as always. He grinned at you, pulling you closer by your sleeping bag. “So.” 
“So,” you agreed, nuzzling into his bare shoulder. The summer heat was still present in the night, although mild, and he’d clearly chosen to not overheat with his chest bare. “This whole night was really weird, Channie. My life is really weird right now.”
“Tell me about it,” Chan hummed, fingers scratching on your scalp soothingly. “How long?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Chan simply looked at you earnestly, his lips in a tight smile. “How long… what?”
“How long since you’ve liked him?” Chan whispered, clearly registering the noise from the next tent over. You blanched, before realising that well - you could lie to Kim Sieun, Kim Seungmin and yourself, but you couldn’t lie to Bang Chan. He was too kind, too dear to you in a different sense to what Sieun was. 
“I dunno what it is, but I’m ignoring it,” you responded, even quieter than his whisper. “It’s weird. Makes me feel weird.”
Chan let out a silent laugh, chest shaking next to you. “Crushes tend to do that, babe. They make you feel all weird and fuzzy.”
“Kim Seungmin does not make me feel weird and fuzzy, Channie. I can’t stand him.”
“You can’t stand him because he makes you feel weird and fuzzy, and maybe it’s about time you realised that.”
You huffed, turning over to press your back against his chest, despite being separated by sleeping bags and extra fabric. Chan shuffled closer, pulling you in for a cuddle nonetheless. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, murmuring, “you can’t avoid him. I know you want to, but you can’t. He’s your best friend’s brother.”
Unfortunately, this was something you had already recognised. Staring at Sieun’s sleeping figure reminded you that yeah, he was your best friend’s brother, and while a relationship between you and him would never fuck anything up… well, an unrequited crush might. It would be too awkward. That’s why you swore you were going to ignore him. 
You had to go back to hating Kim Seungmin.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Fortunately, it was a lot easier than you’d anticipated. You’d managed to avoid him in his own home. You didn’t even see him in the hallways, sticking to showers late at night while he was always showering in the early morning, and you and Sieun had been eating out nearly every day to avoid family dinners. It almost felt rude, but with Seungmin, being rude was not possible. He was the epitome of rude.
Rude, brazen, and with zero morals. You’d almost forgotten that in the haze of him being nice once and looking pretty all the time. Sure, he was aesthetically pleasing, and maybe he was exactly your type. But you were never going to forget the history between you ever again, not if you put your mind to it. 
However, the concept of your own morals slipping to actually possibly like Seungmin had ruined your days since. You just couldn’t believe yourself! That’s Seungmin you were very nearly lusting over. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence. Who cared if he’d gotten hot?
Apparently, you did. As you stood in a party with Sieun dancing around carelessly, you were clutching your drink tight and thinking of your enemy. The drink limited your inhibitions, making you able to think more freely. Why did he look at you like that after kissing Dahyun? Why did he stop you kissing Chan? Why did- 
“Why are you still overthinking? We’re at a party!” Sieun hollered, the drink in her cup threatening to slosh over the edges with her dancing. You shook your head, putting on your best fake smile.
“I am having the bestest time,” You insisted, smiling and starting to do a little jig to the music. The house party, held at Changbin’s literal mansion, was slowly filling up. You and Sieun had retired to the kitchen to down a few drinks so that you felt less awkward and could start going feral with the rest of the party, but the more drinks you had, the more you got inside of your own head. This wasn’t like you. You were the party girl, the girl who everyone had awaited return to the town - you wanted to scream and stomp your feet like a child. 
“You’re totally not, honey,” Sieun mumbled, seeing the look in your eyes. You sighed, downing back the concoction in your cup. You’d worn another slutty dress to the party, done your makeup and hair and now it was all going to waste. “Are you sure you don’t wanna head back?”
You shrugged. “I mean, if you want to, we can.”
Sieun’s eyes widened. “Well, I was just- I was gonna call you an Uber, and get you home. I’m gonna stay, y’know, it’s Changbin’s house, and… yeah.”
And she wanted to make out with Changbin. She was so valid for that. You sighed again, looking around at the kitchen. The party was a bit too much for you right now in your utterly discombobulated headspace. Maybe you should go back, just chill for the night, sleep. It was probably for the best, or you’d ruin Sieun’s night too by being so awkward. 
“Ah. Yeah, okay, maybe it’s best if I go home,” You looked at Sieun, who was beginning to eye up Changbin. He was in a pretty intense game of beer pong with Jisung, and both parties were screaming their heads off. You didn’t want to stand between Sieun and her destiny, her fate. Sieun turned back to you, a glint in her eye. “Alright, would you call me an Uber? But um, maybe I should go to my house. Y’know, since-“
“He’s at practice,” She said, shaking her head. “Not home. Don’t worry, he won’t be home for a little while.”
You frowned, checking the time. It was 9pm. Did practice go on this late? You let yourself accept her statement anyway. You still had no clue what happened in baseball, or what happened in baseball practice nonetheless. It could go on until 3am for all you knew. Sieun pressed a few buttons on her cracked phone before she was grinning, sending you a thumbs up.
“All done. He- the driver, he’ll be here in five. Good?” You nodded, giving her a quick hug. “You need me to wait outside with you?”
“No, no,” You shook your head. You couldn’t ruin her night even more through your petty questioning of why, why, why. After giving Sieun a quick kiss on the cheek, you made sure she went straight over to Changbin and was safe before you left the house. It took you a solid five minutes to even try to wade through the bodies and you were thankful you were leaving -  you really didn’t have the headspace for that.
Standing outside, you rubbed your hands over your arms to try and gain some warmth. You’d never been great with cold, and although the summer nights weren’t as biting on your skin, it was still unpleasant when you didn’t have the body of a friend next to you. It was also your fault for wearing a strapless minidress that was about two seconds from falling down or riding up, or both. 
The car really only took five minutes. You were thankful for this, as Ubers were inherently unreliable and it was getting colder, and way too loud in the house behind you. Scurrying down the front steps, you didn’t look at the car until you were about a foot in front of it, looking up at the vehicle. 
The car was very familiar. You weren’t sure if the few drinks you’d consumed had made your eyesight go funny, but… no, that definitely was Sieun’s car. You could see inside the car, a lot cleaner than when she picked you up from the airport but still looking half broken. And… Oh God. She’d really done you dirty this time.
Seungmin was sitting in the driver’s seat, and he rolled the window down upon your arrival. “Are you getting in?” 
“No.” You blurted, arms crossed over your chest. “Why are you driving Sieun’s car?”
“Mine’s in for a service,” He responded, eyes racking over your figure. “You look freezing, brat. Get in.”
“No.”
“I’m not going to have to get out and grab you, am I?” He said, eyes narrowing at you. You blanched. He was kinda scary tonight. With a sigh, you made haste to the other side of the car, and heard him mumble “thought not”.
You buckled up your seatbelt when in the passenger seat, and tried to reach over to fiddle with the aircon. The car was cold, too, and you found yourself even more on edge now that you were sitting with Seungmin in a confined area. 
Fiddling with the aircon, you felt Seungmin bat your hand away. “It’s broken.” You turned to look at him, completely silent, and then you saw it. He was in his baseball uniform. Tight pinstripe trousers on those long legs and a loose jersey on his upper body, hair almost flattened from his hat. It still looked good, blonde streaks breaking up the dark mop of hair on his unfairly pretty face. 
“Hello?” He waved a hand over your face. “Are you deaf now, brat? It’s broken.”
“Yeah, sorry,” You mumbled, turning to face out the window. You sensed Seungmin tensing, before he sighed and started the engine to the car. The car started to speed away from Changbin’s house before you even recognised it, too holed up in your head. 
Seungmin sighed again when you were still silent, no noise circulating the small space of the car. “What’s wrong with you lately?”
You turned to him, blinking. “Huh?”
“I’m asking what’s wrong with you lately. I’ve barely seen you. You haven’t been bickering at me, haven’t tried to physically fight me lately. What’s going on?”
You screwed your face up in confusion. “You don’t even care, Seungmin, so why are you asking?”
“Of course I care,” Seungmin’s eyebrows furrowed. He was staring at the road, not looking at you even as your eyes raked over his body unashamedly. “I don’t completely hate you, brat. You just piss me off a lot of the time. So, what’s wrong?”
Gazing at the bulge in his trousers, you realised you needed to stop being so thirsty and reply. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Why did you say that? Why was that the thing that came out of your mouth?
“Funny, because you seem to always want to talk,” Seungmin snickered, one hand tight on the steering wheel. His other arm rested on the armrest, looking the epitome of comfort and relaxation while you felt like you were dying. His remark made you burn with anger. How dare he? You don’t even talk that much, really. “I mean, can’t really get you to stop talking, so-”
“Shut up!” You shrieked. “You wanna know what’s wrong? You. You’ve been pissing me off so much lately, Seungmin. First, it’s the baseball uniform. Like, do the trousers have to be that tight?! Then, you stop me kissing Chan, and make me like, reconsider our whole dynamic for a hot second. Oh, and then, you kiss Dahyun, and that just- that just made me feel all weird. I didn’t like it, I felt weird.”
It was silent for a beat. Another beat passed, and Seungmin was brushing his tongue over his teeth in silent thought. Then, he was pulling into a layby on the side of the quiet road you were driving down, and he unbuckled his seatbelt. The engine switched off and Seungmin turned to you, eyes gazing directly into yours.
“Feel weird how?” He questioned. You scoffed.
“What do you mean?”
“How did it feel weird, brat? You felt confused, maybe a bit sick, awkward even? Upset?” All the emotions Seungmin was quick firing at you had you nodding. You had felt all of those things. Then, all of a sudden, Seungmin was lunging towards you and pressing his plump lips against yours. You gasped, hands going to his broad shoulders. When you felt the material of his baseball jersey, you realised you kind of didn’t want to pull away, and you brushed your lips against his in a response to his movement.
When a second passed, Seungmin’s tongue was pressing into your mouth with fervour, one large hand going to the back of your head to keep you in place. You whimpered into the kiss, your tongue dancing against his and your fingernails digging into his shoulders. When Seungmin eventually pulled away, you chased his lips subconsciously, pouting when he just stared at you. 
“How did that feel?”
“Seungmin-”
“How did that feel, brat? Fucking answer me,” His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, slick with spit from his filthy kiss. You moved to encase his thumb in your mouth, keeping eye contact as your tongue swirled around it. 
Letting his tongue drop out of your mouth, you undid your seatbelt, moving closer to the figure next to you. “Felt good.”
Seungmin hummed, hands moving to grab your hips. He effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, your core settled right on top of the bulge in his fucking baseball trousers. You squirmed, hands moving to brush his hair out of his face. It was a strangely intimate moment, your fingers in his hair. “It feels good because we like each other.”
“Mm, no. Not possible,” You insist. Seungmin’s lips turned up into a smile, his eyebrow raised. “We bicker all the time, and-”
“And you got just so pissed at me kissing Dahyun, just like I lost it over you kissing Chan. I saw you staring at my ass in my game, and in all honesty, I’m staring at your thighs in that dress right now.” 
You look down at your thighs. They were spread immodestly, plush flesh slung over Seungmin’s thinner legs. Your dress had ridden up with your movement, and your core was barely covered by a strip of black lace that you referred to as underwear. It could barely be considered as underwear. Turning your attention back to Seungmin, you saw him still staring at your thighs, a hungry look in his eyes. 
“But- we argue all the time. You boil my blood, to be honest,” You admit, feeling a bit sheepish sitting on top of him like that. Seungmin let out a small laugh, hands moving to brush up and down your thighs. The feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin made you sigh, inching closer for more touch. 
“You piss me off too. You piss me off so much, I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name and crying. Is that fucked up?” Seungmin spoke, licking his lips. His attention went up to your own lips, to which you were nervously biting your bottom one. “I liked you when you were shy and quiet and you barely spoke. When you became stubborn, and outspoken, I liked you even more. It made me want to fuck you into submission, brat.”
You could literally feel yourself getting wet. Fuck you into submission? Now that sounded fucking amazing. You weren’t surprised he had the exact same sexual interests as you. You were a brat through and through. It’s where the nickname came from, after all. 
“Fuck me then,” You kissed his lips chastely, feeling him groan deeply into your mouth. He entertained you for a few seconds, a filthy swap of spit and tongue before he was pulling away. Your chest heaved, fingers digging into his shoulders once again. “Fuck me. Please, I’ll beg! I don’t care, just-“
“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Seungmin admonished. Your mouth instantly clenched shut in reaction, toes curling in your shoes. He threw his head back, eyes shut as if he was trying to control himself. He was just as affected as you. After a moment passed, he looked back at you, eyes still just as dark. “I’m not fucking you in Sieun’s car. I’ll take you home and fuck you nice and full in my bed. Does that sound good?”
You found yourself nodding, and Seungmin let you reposition yourself back in the passenger seat. You had never felt more excited in your life. Except, when he tried to start the ignition with the key, the car spluttered a few times and then stopped altogether. You blinked at the car. Seungmin took in a sharp inhale of air. He tried to turn the key again, and the car rocked as if in protest, but didn’t start. It was dead.
“Okay, fuck me in the car then?” You questioned, turning to face Seungmin again. You saw him almost laugh, lips curling, before he was shaking his head at you. 
“I like you too much to treat you like that.”
“Seungmin, you treat me badly everyday. It’s our whole thing.”
“Well, yeah, but you’re my girl now. It’s different. We’re still going to bicker like mad, but I’m not having our first time be in a fucking car. Especially not one owned by my sister,” Seungmin sighed, long fingers reaching into his pocket. He clicked a few buttons before he landed on Chan’s contact. It didn’t even ring once before Chan picked up. “Hey, old man. So, we’re stuck in Sieun’s car, it’s finally died. No, I’m not with Sieun. Yes, I’m with her. Chan, can you stop asking questions and just come and save us?”
Your chest was still heaving when you heard rushed murmurs. His girl? He’d called you his girl, and surprisingly… you weren’t all that mad about it. He was sexy, and he was rude. But wasn’t that your type anyway? Taller than you, stoic, bitchy and could actually fuck you good. The last statement was something you had no doubt about, the way he’d effortlessly moved you onto his lap like that… you were squirming in your seat just thinking about it, clenching your thighs together. You didn’t even hear the click of the phone when Seungmin hung up, still focused on trying to get some friction on your core.
“Stop being a brat,” Seungmin demanded. You pouted, turning to him, to which he met your gaze with a steely glare. “I’m sure you can wait until we get home. Chan’s on his way.” How fucked up is it that even though he’s still being mean, he’s just making you like him more?
It wasn’t long before Chan’s sleek black car pulled up in front of Sieun’s. Luckily, you’d parked on a housing street where not many cars passed, so it’d be alright for Sieun’s car to stay there until the morning. Seungmin was instantly unbuckled and out of the car, baseball uniform tight on his legs as he walked over to your side. When you got out of the car, you expected him to walk away from the car straight away, but he had his arm around your waist tightly as if he was escorting you to the other vehicle. You even saw Chan’s confused expression in the driver’s seat. 
Chan only looked more confused when Seungmin followed you into the backseat and sat next to you, leaving no space. “Uhm, so. Back to yours then, Seungmin? We can sort the car tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed, quiet as his warm hand went to rest on your thigh. Subconsciously, your legs spread to allow him access, and you heard him sigh next to you. Chan started the engine, speeding off down the road. He seemed on edge, turning the radio up loud. 
You stared at the rearview mirror, seeing Chan focusing on the expanse of road in front of him. With one of your boldest ever moves, you grabbed Seungmin’s hand, placing it on the front of your panties where you were soaking through the lace. Seungmin leaned in close, lips brushing against your ear. 
“You want me to finger you while he drives us home? That’s dirty, pup,” Seungmin murmurs. You let out a shaky breath, head rolling onto his shoulder. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You’re too desperate, I don’t think you’ve worked for it yet. Let’s make out a little, how’s that?”
You nod eagerly, fingers moving to grasp on his biceps. “Yeah- I need something, Seungmin. I think I’m going to die, you’re so hot in that fucking uniform, I-“
“You’re filth,” Seungmin groaned. “Fucking- c’mere.” His hand went to the back of your head, yanking your hair back before his lips were pressed against yours.
His tongue pressed his spit into your mouth in the most sexual kiss you’d ever had, and you let out a soft sigh at the feeling. His lips were so soft, so plump against yours and it weirdly just felt right - you liked him a little more when he was kissing you until you were breathless over when he would make fun of you. 
“Okay!” You’d forgotten Chan was even there until his hands clapped together. You both turned to look at him, your lips kiss-bitten and swollen. You were outside Seungmin’s house. When did you even get there? You blinked, staring at Chan. He gave you a wide smile. “I’m so glad you guys have worked things out, but I really don’t want my car soiled. Please go home.”
“Thanks for the lift, old man.” Seungmin was dragging you out of the car by your wrist, all the way up the driveway and into the house. Before you knew it, he was taking you up the stairs, too, and you were standing in front of his door.
Seungmin’s bedroom door. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even been inside. It used to be littered with figurines and music paraphernalia, and you had no idea what it would look like now. When Seungmin pushed open the door, it looked a lot cleaner and less immature, pristine grey sheets tucked into the corners like a hotel room and only a few baseball items littered around. 
He turned to you, pressing a peck to your lips. “Are you sure you want to fuck me? I have to warn you beforehand, I can get a little…”
“Mean?” You giggle. Seungmin nods, a smile on his lips. “I like mean. I thought I made that obvious.” 
“And I like bratty girls who need to be hurt until they cry. Are you a little painslut, brat?” You nod at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better, molten hot need rushing through you at the mere idea. “Good. Get naked for me and lay on my bed.”
Scurrying over to his bed, you just couldn’t believe you were actually about to do this. You were about to fuck the guy who you absolutely hated a month ago. You would’ve never dreamed of this - but now, it had you thinking. All of the bickering, all of the pissing each other off - had you just been trying to wind each other up for a specific response? Had you been doing it to get his attention? The thought hurt your brain, but you knew one thing. You wanted to fuck Kim Seungmin so fucking bad, and fuck whatever happened afterwards.
The fabric of your dress dropped to the floor once you’d unzipped it, the fabric pooling at your feet. You kicked it away, leaving yourself braless with just underwear on. Seungmin’s eyes trailed down your body, humming when you settled back against his sheets. 
That’s all he did for a while. He just looked at you, taking your full appearance in with wandering, claiming eyes. You found yourself meeting his gaze when he looked at your face. His trousers were even tighter than before, a long, hard erection pressing against the fabric. Letting your palms wander up your tummy, a delicate, grazing touch that made you squirm, you landed on your chest and tugged on your nipples.
“Are you gonna fuck me now, Seungie?” The nickname dropped from your mouth before you could even process it. Seungmin scoffed, before he was pulling his jersey off with haste. It left him bare, exposing soft, milky planes of skin to your eyes. His body was lean yet toned, looking like the muscles would ripple under your fingers but feel so velvety at the same time. It was the perfect representation of his personality. 
He was on the bed quicker than you’d expected, lunging towards you like a primal animal stalking its prey. You gazed up at him when his movement landed him above you, your legs spread around his hips. All that was heard throughout the room were deep breaths when his bulge situated against you through your underwear, the puffs of air spanning across your skin where he leaned above you. 
“Should I fuck you?” He mumbled. You nodded slowly, letting your hips roll up against his. Seungmin licked his lips in response, hands going to pin your hips down. “Tell me what you like.”
You whimpered when his lips went to your neck, sucking on a spot underneath your jaw that felt so, so sensitive. “I like... Rough. Pain. I like it rough, I like being treated like I’m beneath you, but then- God, Seungie- you need to- I need to cum, when we fuck. Please?”
“Men don’t make you cum often, brat?” You shook your head, whining again when he sucked a hickey into your collarbone sharply. “That’s a pity. I bet you look so fucking beautiful when you cum, so desperate. I think I’ll let you cum.”
“Thank you,” You moaned lowly when he trailed his lips further down your body. His lips encaptured one of your nipples, a hard peak so sensitive to his loving tongue. The moonlight shone through his curtains, highlighting the new hairstyle he had and his button nose when he sucked on your breast. As if he’d been building up to it, Seungmin let his teeth bite into your nipple sharply, and you positively squeaked at the sensation. 
Letting your nipple pop out of his mouth, Seungmin grinned up at you. “Good?”
“More, more. Please, hurt me, please-”
“Hurt you?” He shifted again, looming over you in that dangerous, almost territorial way. “What if I slapped you? On your face. Would you like me to make that pretty face red?”
You gasped, eyes rolling back at the mere idea. He ground his bulge into you, waiting for your answer. “I- I love that, please, Seungmin, slap me. Oh my God, please, I think I’m gonna die-” 
You were cut off with a harsh smack to your cheek. Your head rolled, gasping in the aftermath of the pain. It should’ve put you off, it should’ve hurt too much, it should’ve made you question if he really liked you - but all you could think was again, please. That’s all you could say, too, begging him to slap you again. 
“Fucking filthy brat,” He grumbled, hand swinging again to slap you across the face. When your head tried to roll to the side again, he gripped your cheeks with his thumb and finger. You whined incoherently when he looked down at you, squishing your cheeks, until he was letting spit dribble into your mouth. “Mine.”
“Yours,” You nod, agreeing, and Seungmin groans at the sound of you saying it. You heard the rustling of fabrics, the moving of bedsheets and then his cockhead was positioned at your sopping wet hole, panties pulled to the side. You tried to buck your hips into it, trying to catch his cockhead and lure him inside, but his grip pushed you back down. 
“Tell me again. You’re mine, yeah? No more kissing Chan,” Seungmin rubbed the leaking tip against your hole, making you attempt not to squirm again. “No more arguing with anyone that isn’t me, brat. I’m your punching bag, yeah? You take all your anger out on me and I’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards, hurt you the way you like. That’s what you’ve always done it for, right?”
Your brain was fuzzy. Yes, that’s what you’d always done it for. You had always done it to get a rise out of him, and now that you were being put in your place, it made you feel like you were running a hundred miles an hour through a sandstorm. 
“Yes, ‘m yours, Seungie, please, can I have it? Need it,” You whine, head thrown back against his soft pillows. Seungmin coos at you condescendingly. 
“Do you? But what about prep, brat? It’ll hurt otherwise, won’t it?” Despite his words, he’s pressing the head of his cock inside of you. The stretch was blinding, making your toes curl and hands dig into the pillows. 
“I- I want it to hurt.”
“Of course you do,” Seungmin sneers, before he’s pushing his whole cock inside you at once. It’s long, pressing against your cervix as he bottoms out and your eyebrows furrow, jaw dropping in a silent moan. “That pussy’s so wet, fuck. I turn you on that much?”
“It turns me on to argue with you, turns me on when you’re mean- fucking, Seungmin, please, move,” You were admitting something you hadn’t quite admitted to yourself just yet, but when Seungmin started to snap his hips against yours, your brain went clear of all thoughts. “Ah, oh my fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck- hnng-”
“‘S good? You’re taking me so well, pretty little brat, you want a reward?” You nodded at his words, but you weren’t braced for his hand smacking your cheek once again. You reeled, eyes feeling blurry as his hips picked up the pace. He was breathing heavily on your cheek, warm breath fanning over even warmer skin. “Was that good? You want more?”
“Please, Seungie, please, more, slap me again, harder,” He slapped your opposite cheek this time, a welcome relief from your reddened cheek. The problem was that when his hand collided with your skin, you felt yourself seize up and - oh. You were cumming. “Ah-”
“Fuck, are you cumming that quick? You’re so fucking filthy, pup,” Seungmin groaned, his cock still bullying into your hole. With his pace not slowing, you couldn’t ride out the orgasm properly, and it was just one constant blissful experience. Your eyes rolled back into your head, toes curling with pleasure. “Cumming from me slapping your pretty little face. Dirty fucking bitch.”
“Seungie- I can’t, I can’t take it, please slow down!” You were squealing at that point, fingers digging into the pillows. 
“I don’t think you want me to, do you?”
He was so right. You shook your head, whining out again when he pulled out. Your hole fluttered around nothing, clit still swollen with arousal. Your slick had dripped all the way down to his pristine sheets, tarnishing his once neat room. Seungmin was quick to spin you around, putting you on your tummy with your ass just slightly raised for him. 
Within a brief moment, he was pushing inside of you again. His cock was still wet with your arousal, and your back arched when he bottomed out inside of you for the second time. Seungmin gripped your hair, making your back permanently arched for him. His lips attached to your neck, blonde highlighted hair draping onto your skin. 
“‘S good, so good,” You babbled, trying to push your ass back onto him. Seungmin allowed it this time, his hand moving from your hair to your neck. He squeezed the sides expertly and you whimpered, hands moving to grab his wrist. 
“You like that, don’t you? I’m meant to be your enemy, you dirty bitch, and look at you,” He was chuckling mirthlessly, grinning when you kept babbling. “I guess you like my cock too much. Dumb fucking slut, all I have to do is fill you up and you’re nice and sweet for me.”
“B-Bet you wish you’d done it sooner,” You quip, which would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t stuttered it out. “Would’ve shut up for you and been a good girl a long time ago.”
Seungmin hummed. “I think I like you bitchy, brat.”
“I jus’ like you,” You slurred, feeling Seungmin’s pace slow. He’d resorted to a slow, deep grind that had you feeling every inch and every vein on his cock. You could hear him snickering in your ear, and he pressed a cute little kiss to your neck. His free hand went down to your clit, rubbing precise, firm circles against the swollen button.
“Think you can ride me, or are you too cock drunk?” Seungmin hummed. You shook your head rapidly.
“I- too much, can’t-”
“Alright, brat, let me fuck you some more then. I need to cum in this pussy, yeah?” Seungmin was laughing again, and all of a sudden, he’d let go of your neck. You were immediately face planted into the pillows and Seungmin gripped onto your ass, thrusting into you quicker this time. You whined, trying to push back onto him, but he smacked your asscheek in admonishment. Letting your hips shift slightly to allow your hand to meet your clit, you picked up where Seungmin left off with the tight circles. It made the pool of arousal in your tummy clench, and you vaguely realised you were going to cum again. 
“Seungie, please- I want cum, want cum, with me, please-”
“Want me to cum inside you, brat? While you cum around my cock? That’s dirty, pup,” His voice faltered when his hands gripped onto your asscheeks harder, spreading them to see where his cock was entering you over and over. You knew you were soaking, you could feel it - and the wet glide of his length inside of you felt fucking delectable. You recognised no one had fucked you like this before, letting you cum over and over on their cock like this while they held back their own orgasm, and it made your head dizzy. You’d have to come back to Seungmin for more, you thought, and you didn’t hate the thought at all. 
The bed rocking suddenly caught your attention, and you whimpered, trying to alert Seungmin of the noise. The last thing you needed was his parents hearing you get your back blown out by their son, who you claimed to hate. You reached back, trying to grab his arm, but he was groaning loudly, cockhead hitting your g-spot with every thrust.
“Seungie, ‘s too loud, the bed,” You managed to get out, drooling on his pillows. Seungmin let out a loud groan before he was pulling you back onto him, forcing you to fuck back onto his cock.
“And? I don’t care. Pussy’s so fucking good, gonna make me blow, shit,” Seungmin mumbled. “You ready for my cum, brat?”
“Yeah, want it, please, please Seungie, fill me up, breed me!”
“Breed you? You want me to breed this pussy, dirty pup?” He bit your neck sharply, making you keen. You nodded erratically at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better than him filling you up with his cum. “Cum with me. Flood my cock.”
His hand came down on your ass again, and as you felt his hips stall, an unfamiliar warmth filling up your pussy, you let go around him. Your pussy fluttered with delight - probably also confusion, because oh my God, you were cumming twice? With someone else?
It felt messy, juices gliding everywhere as he just rocked his hips a little to ride out your orgasms, and then you were left to fall flat on the bed. He pulled his softening cock out, sighing when your pussy oozed out his cum onto his sheets. He didn’t seem to care about his bed, much more entranced with the sight of your hole gaping after him. 
He’d fucked you so good your pussy was going to remember the shape of his cock forever. That was for sure.
You let yourself drift, brain going blurry until you felt a cloth wiping between your legs. It was cold, slightly wet as it rubbed over your swollen folds, and you whimpered, trying to shift away from the touch.
“Stay still, brat. ‘M just cleaning you up.” You nodded, face still buried in the sheets. It was then that Seungmin finally pulled your panties down, chucking them to the floor and pulling a pair of basketball shorts up your trembling legs. Were they… his? He’d put you in his clothes? Bizarre. You didn’t even react when he spun you over, pulling a baggy t-shirt over your upper body. He’d gotten fully dressed in a plaid pyjama set, baffling you. When had he done that?
You were moved again, positioned on a very firm chest and a bottle of water pressed to your raw lips. You glugged it down thankfully, blinking up at Seungmin. His hair was mussed, but pushed back with a cute Pochacco headband. Wow. He was actually cute. 
There was a beat of silence, then Seungmin spoke. His hand was tracing your scalp, running his fingernails over it. “I meant what I said. You’re my girl. I think you always have been.”
You scoffed. “Yours?! I’m not a possession, Seungmin-”
Seungmin kissed you softly, giggling when you still tried to yell. Had he always reacted this amused when you bitched at him? You realised that… yeah, he had. It really did entertain him. “You’re so cute when you have a go at me like that, you know? Such a brat.”
You twiddled your thumbs together when he pulled away from the kiss, staring at the bottoms of his plaid pyjamas shyly. “So… you wanna be like, together? Since you’re hot, and all.”
Seungmin chuckled again, pulling you closer to his chest. “As long as you never ever stop bitching at me.”
“I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”
“I like you that way, brat.”
END. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
EPILOGUE
Sieun stared at you upon your arrival to breakfast. Her parents were preoccupied in the living room, and her eyes settled directly on your neck. You knew that your neck was littered with bite marks, hickies galore, but you’d tried your best to hide it.
“Listen, I’m so happy for you,” She began, hand clasped tightly around her mug. “I know I always ask you for details of sexual escapades, but I kind of don’t need to know about how good my brother is in bed.”
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” You nod, agreeing. “But he does know where the-“
“Stop!”
A mug of coffee is placed in your hands, made just the way you like it. The steaming liquid is a welcome warmth, as is the kiss that Seungmin presses to your cheek. You blush, staring up at him when he wraps his arms around your waist.
“Good morning, brat.”
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starphires · 9 months
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it genuinely makes me go dumb over jake filling out in atwow...
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rqgnarok · 9 months
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i can see you - jamie tartt
fandom: ted lasso
wc: 6,082
warnings: SMUT, both implications and the actual act. no use of pronouns but reader is described with female anatomy. 
summary: you and jamie have been watching each other for ages, trying not to feel the pull between you. a moment in the hallway changes everything.
author’s note at the end <3
masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi
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Jamie comes back to Richmond one cold, quiet morning.
Quiet, because his teammates refuse to talk to him even after he’s at the receiving end of the harshest glares Jamie’s ever seen. They prickle his skin and make him feel too small in his own body, but he juts his chin up and trots around the field following Ted’s instructions.
“He’s the worst,” Sam tells you one morning after the facts. You bought an extra coffee on your way in because Sam had spent the entire week clenching his teeth so tightly you could see it in his jaw. It had only taken you one nudge and he spilled his feelings out like a dam breaking. “He just makes me feel awful about myself. And even if he’s apologized, that doesn’t mean he’s changed. I know Ted believes in second chances and I do, too, but that man is incapable of improving. The only person he’s ever cared about is himself.”
You’re inclined to believe him just because of how dejected he sounds. So when Jamie Tartt comes by the PR office later looking for Keeley and finds you instead, the annoyance that overtakes his features only cements your bad image of him.
“Keeley ain’t in?”
“Just missed her,” you say, short and clipped, head bent to focus on your work. “She’s out for lunch, Roy’ll probably bring her back in an hour.”
Silence meets your words, and you look up to see him looking at you, seemingly lost in thought. “Is… there anything else I can help you with?”
He snaps out of it, eyes a little wide and mouth struggling to find the right words. He’s pretty, you allow yourself the thought before immediately filing it away from your mind. He’s an asshole, your brain supplies, and yeah, that’s much better. 
“Sorry,” he says in that awful accent of his that’s in no way endearing. Not even a little bit. It doesn’t help that he looks actually apologetic, unsure, tugging at his shirt nervously. “We, um, haven’t met, have we? ‘m Jamie.”
“I know,” you say, not exactly kindly, but the whole world knows who he is. You’d have to be living in outer space to not be aware of Jamie Tartt’s existence. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Jamie’s tentative smile turns bitter and he tucks his head down, embarrassed. “Ah. ‘Course. Yeah, no, I’m. ‘m sure you have.”
He sounds just like Sam had when telling you about Jamie’s torment and it tugs at your heart despite how you don’t want it to.
“Anyways, just,” he shrugs, trying to give you a sunny grin and failing only slightly. You almost respect his efforts. “Know you’ve been here a while and all but, uh. Welcome, anyways. Richmond’s a nice place to be.”
You sigh.
“You, too,” you say when he’s already at the door, surprising both of you with your sudden considerate candor. You shrug a little. “What you’re doing can’t be easy. It takes a lot of guts to come back here. I hope it’s worth it.”
“So do I,” he says before giving you one last smile, albeit a bit more genuine, and leaving your office. 
After that, you’re both extremely aware of each other. It’s like the universe has decided to make sure you’re always in close vicinity, bumping each other in the hallways, arriving and leaving work at the same time, being paired up by Keeley for ad campaigns and photoshoots. You have the suspicion that Keeley’s been doing it on purpose– a good boss but a nosy friend, nevertheless, but it’s proven incorrect when she assures you don’t have to work with Jamie if you don’t want to.
“I know how he can be,” she says, eyes kind and hands on your shoulders, shaking you a little. “If he makes you uncomfortable in any way just say the word and I’ll take care of it, babes. I know how to handle him anyways.”
But you’re a grown woman. You can handle an asshole at the workplace, even if it comes in the beautiful package that is Jamie Tartt. 
You can’t say you haven’t noticed him; his plump lips and smart mouth, defined arms covered in tattoos, hands that look like they know their way around the in-between of someone’s legs. You’re angry at him by your connection to the other boys but you’re not blind– and Jamie is a sight to behold. 
He seems to know it, too, smirking at you whenever he catches your eye. He brushes by you in the hallway and you get a whiff of his cologne, sometimes a steady hand around your elbow when your steps stumble. 
He murmurs a quiet alright, love? and you both move on with your day, your skin a little too warm and the imprints of his fingers tattooed on your skin until you get home. 
You pay him back for those moments at random times. Once, during a photoshoot, you make a noise of frustration when the photographer insists that Jamie poses a certain way, dressed in his uniform as if he were about to jump into the pitch but looking a little too put together.
“It doesn’t feel genuine,” you explain, but you only receive blank, annoyed looks in response, so you take matters into your own hands and walk into the set, placing yourself in front of Jamie.
“Just-” you sigh, frustrated, and reach towards him before hesitating. He’s sitting down for the photo, and the sight of him looking up at you, his body between your legs does something you can’t bear to think about in a workplace environment. “May I?”
Jamie stutters, suddenly nervous. “I- sure. Go ‘head.”
You take off his hairband with a swift motion and tangle your fingers in his hair, messing it up. It’s soft and runs like water between your fingers, the smell of some fancy conditioner and hair product hitting your nose. 
You dig your nails into his scalp a little too roughly, and before the apology sitting on your tongue can be said, Jamie’s shiver overtakes his body, a muffled sound being bitten back for you not to hear it, but you hear it anyways. 
It makes you stop, just for a second, and your eyes meet. There’s something different in Jamie’s, greyish green darkening like you’re looking into the eye of the storm. The air is suddenly thick with tension, your hands still in his hair, his own twitching in his lap as if wanting to reach for–
Behind you, the photographer asks, “Are you done?”
You gulp and look away from Jamie, voice incredibly steady despite how dry your throat feels. “Almost.”
You hand him the hairband back and your fingers brush when he goes to take it. He exhales a gust of air, slowly, as if trying to avoid any suspicion of how badly the little touch is affecting him. 
When it’s back on, you reach again to pull loose some strands of hair and your other hand holds him by the chin, keeping him still. 
“There,” you say after a couple of moments or after an eternity. You let go of him and the room comes back into focus. 
Jamie blinks as if he’d been having trouble thinking past the touch of your hands on him, oddly intimate. You move out of the way so the photographer can squint at whatever you did with his hair. “You see what I mean?”
The rest of the photoshoot is uneventful, but it becomes quite clear that whatever things you do to get into Jamie’s head work as efficiently to get into yours. 
The team begins warming up to him after the whole Dubai Air debacle, and something inside of you unclenches in relief when you see Jamie sharing beer and laughter with the boys in the locker room after Sam’s press conference. 
It feels like permission. The guilt you feel whenever you stare at Jamie a little too long suddenly dissipates, and you dare to bite your lip when he catches your eye across the room. His stare slips to your mouth before refocusing on his conversation, and the way he tugs at his collar and his cheeks flush makes you feel victorious despite the team’s loss tonight. 
Later at Keeley’s, Roy nurses a beer while splayed out on the couch and asks you about Jamie. “Please tell me he’s done something stupid so I can punch him in the dick next time I see him.”
“You need an excuse for that?” you raise your eyebrows in question. 
Roy grunts, but there’s hidden glee in his expression as he concedes your point. “Fair enough. He’s given you any trouble?”
“Nothing worth mentioning, I guess,” you shrug, but you make the mistake of hesitating before answering and Roy perks up like a dog who’s caught an intruder. 
“Spill,” he orders, but you’ve been friends with both him and Keeley long enough to know rolling your eyes when he gets all manly is an appropriate response. “Come on, out with it. What he’d do?”
“Nothing!” you exclaim, throwing a pillow at him. He catches it swiftly, which annoys you a little. “Relax, old man. If he ever pulls a little too hard on my pigtails you’ll be the first to know.”
Roy grunts again, not satisfied but done pushing for the night. 
The real trouble begins at Christmas, hours after the boys exchange gifts and most of the staff is sent home. You’re on your way out, coat on and Uber on the way when you run, once again, into Jamie in the hall, almost knocking both of you to the ground. He has to quickly hold onto your waist, your hands on his chest, to stop it. 
“You scared the hell out of me,” you chastise him, both hating and loving the way he smirks at your breathlessness. “I thought you all troublemakers were gone already. You’ve got the rest of the day off, what are you still doing here?”
“Can’t go back to Manchester with a game tomorrow here, can I?” his hands tighten around your waist for a delicious, stretched-out moment before he lets you go. Jamie covers his flush coughing behind his hand as your own slip from his chest. “You lot just got me back after all. Can’t leave you hangin’ without your best player.”
“Ha, ha,” you laugh sarcastically, knowing he’s mostly kidding about that. “Still, I thought you’d be the first one home. Some Louis Vuitton slippers and Gucci robe on, expensive rum…”
“Oh, know me so well, do you,” he teases, poking at your bag. “What about you? You’re on your way out?”
“Uber’s almost here,” you show him your screen so he can see that your ride’s less than five minutes away. “Are you coming around to Higgin’s later?”
Jamie shrugs. “Don’t know if I’m invited.”
“Of course, you’re invited, Tartt. Everyone is.”
“Don’t know if I’m welcome, then,” he corrects.
“Everyone is,” you say again, firm but a little bit gentler than before. “Honestly, you’re lucky you look the way you do, ‘cause you’re a little bit thick.”
Jamie brightens like a kid on, well, Christmas. “You think I’m hot?”
“Of course, that’s what you take from that,” you roll your eyes. “I gotta go, but I better see you there later.”
You point menacingly at him but he only steps forward until your finger’s touching his chest, towering over you with a smirk that screams trouble. “To give you your gift, you mean?” 
“You did not get me something,” you say, as sure about it as you are that the sky is blue and dirt is brown. “Not when you dropped the ball with your Secret Santa earlier today.”
“Maybe I like you better,” he suggests, voice low and rich. The sound makes a knot of heat tighten in your belly. “Than I like them, you’ve ever thought about that?”
You remember what Sam told you when Jamie first came back, how he was incapable of thinking about anyone other than himself. The Mancunian had proved that statement to be incorrect a handful of times already, and you’ve been flirting with him long enough to know you’re attracted to him, but you don’t expect any kind of emotional reciprocation from him. Sure, you’re friendly, maybe you’ll call him your friend at one point, but that’s as far as it usually gets with someone like Jamie. 
You didn’t even get him a present. That’s how close you two are. 
“Okay, I’ll bite,” you relent. You really should be going, but a part of you needs to entertain this conversation for some reason. It’s not always that you get to talk to Jamie without anyone else present. “What could you have possibly gotten me that you couldn’t give your Secret Santa?”
You barely see the face he makes before you’re being kissed within an inch of your life. Right there in the hallway of AFC Richmond’s training headquarters, Jamie Tartt holds your face in his hands as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, warm and wet and relentless. 
You open yourself up to him without thinking it through, your phone lost somewhere in the mess of limbs as you latch onto his shirt, desperate for balance. 
The kiss is toe-curling hot, your arms wrapping around Jamie’s neck while his own flail a delicious path through your back, hands going under your coat so you feel his skin hot against your sweater. 
He ends up with his arm tight around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close. Your mouths slide against each other, warm breaths trapped between your lips as the desperation for more grows and grows and grows and–
Jamie draws back and leans his forehead against yours only to kiss you again, softer and lingering while you’re still catching your breath, then one last kiss for good measure before finally drawing back. Like it happens around Jamie, the world you’d forgotten had existed outside the two of you comes back with rushing clarity, the hallway still miraculously empty. 
“Somethin’ like that,” he says, and it takes you a moment to remember what you were talking about before this. Christmas, parties, gifts… 
Jamie takes one last look at your face like he’s trying to commit you to memory while you’re all flushed and breathless before he lets you go, walking away into the locker room. “Merry Christmas, love.”
You stay there for a while after he goes, your fingers inevitably going to your kiss-bruised lips, brain still struggling to catch up to the moment. 
Jamie kissed you. You kissed him back. You kissed each other like you weren’t at work and where anyone could walk by and see you. 
Your phone buzzes in your hand. Your Uber’s outside and waiting.
You end up missing Higgin’s later that afternoon, unsure if Jamie would actually go after you bugged him about it and are terrified that he might. 
You’re not avoiding him. For fuck’s sake, you’re a little too old for high school-level social skills, but you’re not sure your heart could take it if you see him so soon after your kiss, acting like nothing happened. 
Or worse, making sure to sit next to you during dinner just so he could put his hand on your thigh and make you sweat while everyone’s watching, unaware of the change that’s just transpired in your relationship.
By the next day, you’ve decided to keep things professional, and it helps that Jamie doesn’t really bring it up. You see him before the game in the locker room when you go record some stories for the Instagram page, and he says hello as casually as the rest of the boys. 
You exhale a breath you didn’t know were holding and wish them all the best for the game, though if it’s relief or disappointment that washes over you, you’re not sure.
Life moves on. You continue to work together, not sans stolen glances and running into each other in the hallway. It’s different now, because you both know the other remembers that Christmas kiss and accidentally touching when passing each other by makes your breath hitch and Jamie’s face flush. 
The energy you had building up between you is charged with something dangerous now, and unless you dare to talk about it it’ll only build up into something you eventually won’t be able to ignore. 
But fuck, do you think about it. About the way Jamie’s hands held you, how they kept you in your place and how they would pin you down if you ever were to end up in bed together, his hips driving home while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and accent thick with the heat of the moment. 
Fuck. Fuck, you’re so fucking gone for him. 
It’s also different because Roy comes back, and it’s like he just knows there’s something about Jamie that you’re not telling him. 
“What the fuck was that?” 
“What?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive. 
“What was that… look?” he splutters. Never once in your life have you seen Roy Kent fucking splutter like he couldn’t get a grip on a situation. 
“What look?” maybe you can gaslight your way out of this one, you hope, because Jamie had been less than subtle when coming up to you both in the parking lot and talking about needing your help for a sponsored post he was supposed to make. 
He got real close, so near you could smell the mix of cologne, sweat, and plain Jamie that rested on his skin. While showing you his phone put a hand on the small of your back, fingers spread open and hot like a brand. 
It’d stolen your breath for a second, a hitch in an exhale that had caught both Jamie’s and Roy’s attention. You eyed Jamie warningly but he only smirked, completely aware of what he was doing. You said something about tagging the sponsor and then he was gone, brilliant smile and thanks on his lips as he waved you goodbye.
“That look, all cheeky and shit,” Roy points at where Jamie used to be and looks around for witnesses. You roll your eyes so hard it makes your head hurt a little. “Like he knows something I don’t, as if there’s anything in his brain other than elevator music.”
And of course, he tells Keeley about it, which earns you an interrogation as soon as you come down to the office. 
“Thought he didn’t have access to his account,” Keeley frowns. “Didn’t you change his password after the Oreo Incident?”
“God, don’t even think about the Oreo Incident while near me,” you rub at your temples to try to diminish the migraine building up at the mere thought of it. 
Now you gotta worry about Roy becoming a buffer between you and Keeley not buying your usual excuses. With them and the rest of the team and staff in the mix, you don’t stand a chance to get near Jamie. 
You start surviving on fantasies alone that grow and spiral into unrealistic, too-hot scenarios. 
Jamie, his shorts around his ankles and you on your knees in an empty locker room, his hands on your hair as he pants please, love, so fuckin’–
You on the desk and Jamie with his head between your legs, late into the night after everyone’s gone home and it’s you and him in your office as you moan fuck, Jamie, that’s– yeah, that’s good–
A night in a hotel room after some away game, Jamie letting you ride the leftover energy out of him. Thassit, angel, put your back into it, yeah? Be good for me. 
It’s too much and it’s not enough. 
Jamie throws himself into his training, trailing after Roy’s approval and eager to improve in every way he can, both as a person and a player. It’s nice to see him so dedicated, you think, remembering the traces of cockiness when you two first met in your office. 
They’re still there somewhere, and you see them shine when, for some reason, all the coaching staff– Ted included– give Jamie the bird mid-game. You’re sitting on the V.I.P. box next to Keeley when his monster of a goal goes through, screaming your lungs out and hugging everyone within six feet of you. 
You’re too far away from the field to see clearly, but you can imagine Jamie with striking clarity: cocky expression and tongue out, arms crossed before the rest of the boys jump with glee to embrace and congratulate him. 
The locker room is a mess of sweat and laughter when you go down there, Keeley making a beeline for Roy and Rebbecca going straight to Ted. It leaves you with a bunch of overexcited men hugging you and handing you drinks in celebration.
“No stories for the ‘gram today,” you promise when Zorreaux and Dani begin posing, making faces, and showing off muscles to you. You can’t help but laugh, Sam’s arm around you. “I’m off duty tonight, boys. On a fan capacity only.”
“Are we allowed to date fans?” Jan Maas asks, half joke half genuine question. The boys make ooooh noises of interest.
You laugh again, not taking it seriously, but Keeley suddenly pipes up from her spot on Roy’s lap. “Please don’t! It’s a PR nightmare.”
Roy adds helpfully. “I’ll punch you in the dick.”
The conversation shifts to other topics but you search the room to find Jamie already looking at you, eyes dark and jaw tight. It’s barely a moment of eye contact, insignificant to anyone else in the room, but it’s enough to make your insides flutter. Meet me outside. 
Thank God everyone’s too distracted celebrating when you sneak out of the locker room about half an hour later. You find Jamie already there, waiting for you at the end of it. He brightens when he sees you, shutting his phone and putting it in his back pocket.
It’s a little overwhelming, having Jamie Tartt’s full attention on you. As if it’s not exactly what you’ve been pining after for months.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Man of the Match?”
“Me?” he wonders faux incredulously while leaning casually against the wall, a dramatic hand to his chest. You walk till you’re right in front of him. “I work here, love. Or are you forgetting my heroic play out there already?”
You scoff. “We work here, dumbass, and how can I forget? It’s all everyone’s talking about. What are you doing away from your victory parade?”
“Same thing you are. Taking a breather,” he shrugs, giving you a slow once over, taking you in head to toe. You’re wearing a Richmond jersey and some loose jeans, nothing to write home about, but Jamie seems to like it. His tongue wets his lips before he focuses on your face again, charming. “Lots of people in there, yeah? Needed a minute.”
You raise your eyebrows, amused and unconvinced. “I can leave you alone if you want.”
Jamie abandons his spot against the wall and goes to you, slow and careful like a hunter stalking its prey. He says, voice a low, rough murmur, “Didn’t I already tell ya I like you better? You can stay as long as you want, love.”
Your entire body heats up at the callback to last December, the reminder of how easily Jamie snuck into your personal space and stole your breath with a heart-stopping kiss in this very same hallway. 
“I‘m not gonna lie, this seems a little orchestrated, Tartt.”
He smiles, indulgent. “Oh?”
“Sending me looks, getting me all alone…” you take a step closer so you’re poorly hidden behind the water cooler. If someone were to walk out of the locker room, they’d have to walk this way and take a turn to see you standing so close to each other.
“You were the one who followed me out,” he reminds you, tilting his head and raising his brows. He’s so expressive and you can’t take it, want to put your mouth to every inch of his face until he’s saying nothing but your name. “Who’s the real mastermind here, ey?”
“Don’t even,” you warn, unable to bite back an upward tilt of the lips. “I know how you get in hallways, mister. I haven’t forgotten, yet.”
“Haven’t forgotten you kissed me back, either,” he adds and dares to place a not-quite kiss on the corner of your mouth, a barely-there brush of the lips. “Couldn’t let go of me, could you?”
“Yeah, well, you leave a lot to the imagination,” you can’t help but complain, the little touch not enough to satiate the hunger you’ve been cultivating since that moment. You grab onto his shirt with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. “I gotta brush up against you just to see if you’ll do something about it and you never do.”
Jamie laughs, rich and warm. 
“You think I don’t see ya?” he wonders, fingers brushing against your knuckles before his hands travel slowly up your arms, touch agonizingly warm. Your breath hitches, and it only makes him bolder. “When you pass me by right here in the hallway, touchin’ me ‘on accident’? Leavin’ me wantin’ more?”
“Do you?” you wonder, voice low, facade cracking as your eyes fall to his mouth for a second, stare hungry. “Want more?”
“How could I not?” he admits. You’re looking at him like you want to take a bite out of him, and the adrenaline of that goal is finally wearing off to find more unreleased energy behind it, a tension that’s been strung tight long before he stole a kiss from you. “Fucking Christ, angel, you’re…”
“What?” you wonder when he trails off. Your hands brush against the hem of his shirt and Jamie feels your touch even through his clothing. “What about me?”
You make him feel like he’s on fire, right here in the hallway where anyone, anyone, could see you. “You drive me fucking crazy.”
You smirk, pleased. 
“What would you do, huh? If I touched you right now?”
Jamie breathes out his nose harshly. “Fuck.”
“What if I told you-” you begin, slow and tortuous. “That I haven’t stopped thinking about you here? Against the wall where anyone could walk by? What if I wanted you so badly that I didn’t care if they did?”
Jamie follows the bridge of your nose and the shape of your eyebrows with his eyes, the bite of your lip calling to him like a brightly lit bullseye.
He thinks fuck it. Fuck it, fuck restraint, fuck stringing this out any longer. He’s a winner tonight, in more ways than one. 
Who knows who leans in first? All you know is that you both meet in the middle, clashing like two waves hitting each other, his mouth frantic and eager on yours. He has one hand at the small of your back, pulling you to him, and another one on your collarbone edging dangerously to wrap around your throat, fingers drumming against tender skin. 
You’re touching him everywhere you can reach, feeling so untethered to the rest of the world that your knees buckle, helping him keep you right where he wants you. Whatever remaining bravado you had left vanishes when he has you like this, and you’re desperately trying to keep him close by clutching at the back of his shirt, tanging your fingers into his hair, and raking your nails against his clothed torso. 
You can’t make up your goddamned mind. You want all of him, putty in your hands, all the time. 
You hear a couple of voices, laughing and joking, leaving the locker room and becoming louder by the second. You separate, mouths bruised and tender to the touch. Jamie offers you his hand, smile glinting dangerously. “You trust me?”
You scoff, taking it and intertwining your fingers. “Against my better fucking judgment.”
He pulls you towards the closest exit and you let yourself be led, anything other than your phone forgotten in your office. 
In the blink of an eye, he’s got you in his car, his hand on your thigh edging closer and closer and closer to where you want it. You’re sure he misses one or three stop signs and runs a red light, but the streets are almost deserted at this hour and your skin is warm, only getting warmer even with the AC at full blast. 
When you get to his place it’s like you never stopped, and despite your urgency for him to have you right there in the middle of the training facilities, you love the way he pins you against the wall of his home, picture frames rattling with the force of it. His hands bruise your hips and he lifts your jersey up to your chest so his mouth can travel a path of bare skin down your torso, wet and open-mouthed. 
He looks up to you when he reaches the waist of your pants, kneeling in front of you, a question melted in the sheer want of the green of his eyes.
He’s asking for permission, you realize. 
Something sweet momentarily replaces the urgency you have for him, and you have to drag him back up for another kiss. He makes a questioning noise when you pull him towards you but melts against you when his lips touch yours. It’s a tender thing, an answer, one last quiet moment before you both sink into the chaos. 
“Lemme see you,” Jamie kneels back between your legs, this time cleverly undoing your pants and leaving you in nothing but your underwear while you struggle out of your shirt and leave it forgotten on the floor. 
His fingers brush over the wet spot between your legs and you gasp, insides clenching in response to his touch. He sounds gutted when he says, “God, look at you. Haven’t even touched you, yet, fuck.”
He tucks his face between your legs and runs his tongue over your clothed clit, the sensation of the wet fabric against his tongue driving him crazy. 
He’s painfully hard against his boxers. Jamie’s been waiting for this too long– there’s no way he’s lasting as long as he wants to, but he can focus on you for the time being. It’s not a difficult task, your body’s trembling with the force of your arousal and begging him to do something. 
It calls to him, muting the rest of the world around him.
“Are you ever gonna, or should I get things going on my own?”
He smirks against your thighs, biting playfully at the skin there before going alright, alright when you pull at his hair, though it only makes his dick twitch in his pants. 
He feels more than he sees your shiver when he finally gets your underwear out of the way, and he wastes no time before hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder before diving in, eating you out with the energy of a man starved. 
You hadn’t even made it past the living room.
“Fuck,” you moan, hips thrusting forward and your hand tightening against his hair, the other one searching and failing to find balance against the wall you’re leaning against. 
You want to close your eyes as the waves of pleasure wash over you, your muscles taunt with how Jamie’s expertly driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. “Fuck, Jamie, that’s good. You’re so good at that, oh–”
You see how his body takes in the praise and feel it against your center when he moans into you, tongue cleverly touching all the right places. Jamie closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the experience. 
He suddenly draws back, earning a noise of displeasure from you only to be rendered back into a moaning mess when his hands replace his mouth. He looks up at you like he’s staring at a deity.
“What d’ya want?” he asks as he slides two fingers through your folds, his other hand keeping your hips pinned to the wall as you try to buckle into his touch, whimpers echoing through Jamie’s home. “Huh, love? Have I left you speechless already?”
“You said I left you thinkin’ about it,” he recalls, too coherent for someone as terribly horny as he is. But Jamie needs to know, he wants you to crave him as desperately as he does you. “Back in the hall, that’s what you said. Whad’ya want, love? Where do ya want me?”
“Here,” you pant, eyes closed and face tilted upwards as you try to move your hips, chasing ecstasy. Jamie’s fingers are slowing down, probably to make you focus and only driving you further insane. “Anywhere, everywhere. Fuck, Jamie, I want all of it, all of you, please–”
“Greedy,” he singsongs, but any amusement is ripped from his throat with a moan when you pull at his hair again, walnut mist locks like silk between your fingers. He quickens the pace, unable to deny you. “Fuck, greedy thing, aren’t you? Wasn’t enough to stare me down and to steal a kiss, ya want all of it.”
You sigh, muscles clenching. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…”
“Then take it,” he gives you all you want on a silver platter, right there for you to take. “All you need, angel, ‘s all yours, ‘m all yours–”
With both his fingers and mouth back at work, you’re a lost cause, reaching your high and letting it wash over all your limbs like TV static before you become boneless against the wall. 
Jamie kisses your knee before moving your leg from his shoulder and setting it gently on the ground, back on his feet just in time to kiss you soundly. 
He’s practically holding you up, your arms limply hanging around his neck and your legs made of jelly after the strength of your orgasm. It’s like you let go of all the tension that started building up the second Jamie walked into your office that cold November morning and there’s nothing left holding you up other than his hold on you.
Except Jamie’s hips push into yours and you feel the length of him pressed against you. It’s a reminder that no matter how badly he seemed to enjoy eating you out he hasn’t been able to find his own release. Yet. 
You smirk lazily, finding the strength from God knows where to cup him in your hand, watching his expressive face contort in desperate pleasure. “What about you, Jay? What do you want?”
Jamie is unable to do anything other than babble nonsense as you move past his shorts and boxers to take him in your hand, slow and tight. He gives out a little cry when you strengthen your grip, exhaling as he rests his head on your shoulder. 
He never does answer you, and Jamie comes like that in your arms, quick and easy. He’s kissing your shoulder, your neck, the hinge of your jaw before finding your mouth and slipping his tongue past your lips, languid and easy.
“You getting tired on me, angel?” he wonders, massaging the skin of the back of your neck to gain your attention. You turn your head, following his motions. His eyes haven’t lost their dark edge. His mouth is red and calling for you to worsen the damage. “Cause the night’s young, you know. Bed’s comfortable, too. If I’m good against a wall, wait ‘til I get you in me bedroom.”
“You’re an idiot,” you say, but you feel a flutter of interest between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”
He steals another kiss just for that, giddy with victory, though you don’t know how long you’re gonna get away with calling it stealing when you keep giving yourself to him without a second thought. 
“Is that a yes?”
You pretend to ponder on it. “Well. You haven’t fucked me, yet. There’s still room for improvement.”
Jamie shivers. He can’t resist the challenge and you know it. Whether you’re on the other side of the room or in his arms, he’s never getting enough of you and you love it. 
“Oh, angel,” he cups your face, already on his way to seal his lips onto yours. “You’ve no idea.”
___
IT’S HERE IT’S HERE IT’S HERE
i’m so afraid of not living up to the expectations of the song but i couldn’t get this idea out of my head!!! thank you if you got this far into the read and i appreciate any comment of support and feedback! 
i’m hoping to put out two or three more fics this summer before school starts, after that my schedule might not allow me to post that often but i’m not gonna leave you guys hanging, don’t worry!
<3
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incorrectquotesmcu · 1 year
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Natasha: I think I’m in love with you.
Y/N: You mean as friends?
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cordyce · 1 year
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from the prompt list - “was that your first kiss?” + neyetam please… want to see that guy smug and pleased with himself <3
truthfully, you’re a lot more nervous than you’d like to admit. going on dates and holding hands and partially cuddling; that is all quite familiar with you. but now neteyam is cradling your cheek and leaning in and you realize this is happening and—oh.
it’s nice, very nice. you may not have the experience to bring up citations for that but you are certain of one thing and that’s the butterflies swarming in your stomach. your eyes flutter shut and you let neteyam pull you in real close and his lips taste like the juice from the fruits he was eating earlier. and it’s just so nice.
then, far too soon, he’s pulling away. and you don’t realize it but you’re chasing, faltering for just a second as you regain yourself. your eyes flit open—to his lips, his eyes, the ground—you’re darting your gaze away within the next second.
“oh, do not be shy now,” he chuckles, and normally the sound of that puts you at ease.
now, however, it has your cheeks burning and your face turning in the total opposite direction of neteyam. you don’t think you give anything away (aren’t most people timid after kissing?) but apparently you do, because the next chuckle he lets out is a bit more.. condescending.
“wait,” he reaches for your face again. draws your attention back without your permission. “was that your first kiss?”
your mouth opens to dispute his forward claims, but nothing comes out. ears dipping, tail swishing, you find yourself at a painstakingly embarrassing stand still with neteyam. nervous is now an understatement.
he takes your silence as an answer. “it was,” he bemuses. and his grin crooks lopsided, the glint in his eyes shifts. his expression grows cocky and you can’t decide whether you love or hate how it makes your stomach flip.
“well,” he presses forward, “allow me the honor of being your second, too.”
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