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hyunniesgirl · 2 months

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Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: Lee Minho is unreachable, someone you can only just dream of being with. Until one day, you enter the wrong door at a party and ends up with him inviting you to sit on his lap.

Part 2

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: corruption kink, protected piv, fingering, Minho is kinda possessive.

You're okay with not being popular, it's not like you'll be like that forever, it's just college and in a few years everything will be forgotten so you just keep living your life, going to your classes and hanging out with your best friend.

The only time you ever wish you were popular, though, is when you see him. Lee Minho. The guy of your dreams. He's vice president of the greatest fraternity on campus, so everyone knows him.

Lee Minho is someone mysterious, no one knows much about him other than that he changes girlfriends faster than he changes clothes. So more than half of the girls in this university already had their heart broken by him.

That doesn't make you like him less though, it's not like something will ever happen between you two so a little crush on him is not something to worry about, even more so when he doesn't even know about your existence.

Your best friend, Jihyo is the opposite of you, she likes partying and she always tries to drag you to one of her nights out. That's how you ended up in the situation you're in right now. Alone in the kitchen of a frat house, listening to a drunk guy teaching you about your own major, while sipping on a drink you're not even sure about the contents.

You watch as a group of people play beer pong on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, everyone is sweating and there's alcohol being spilled all over the place. You're at a safe distance but you pity the person who's going to clean this up later on.

You have no idea where Jihyo went, she told you she was going to the bathroom half an hour ago and never came back. You're tired of hearing this guy too, he's talking about first year contents when you're already in your third year.

“That's so interesting”, you smile at him, “but I have to go find my friend now”, you don't let him say a word, quickly sneaking away from the kitchen.

You look around, trying to find your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Maybe she's on the second floor, you ask people and they tell you exactly where the bathroom is. However, you shouldn't be so quick as to trust drunk people.

Because when you open the door people pointed out as the bathroom, you find a room with red lights brightening the dark space.

There's a bed in the middle of the room and in that bed there's a couple and that couple happens to be Lee Minho and someone you have no idea who it is. They are luckily not in a compromising position, not making out or something worse. She's just sitting on his lap, having her giggles stopped by the bright light that comes from the door when you open it.

Your eyes grow wide when Minho looks at you with his fierce unfriendly eyes.

“Hm- I'm- sorry, I thought this was the bathroom”, you smile sheepishly, fidgeting on your feet.

Minho looks at you up and down and you swear you can see a smirk forming on his lips, but you're not sure since the light is not great.

“I guess the sign with my name on the wall is not very visible”, he points out dryly, making your face turn red. Great, that's great. Nice way to be humiliated by your crush, y/n.

“I apologize, I really didn't see it”, you say again. You should already have gotten out of there but for some reason it seems that your feet are stuck on the ground.

“Honey, why don't you go downstairs, I'll talk to you later”, Minho says to the girl on his lap, making her groan in frustration. She gets up, angrily walking past you. “You should close the door if you're going to stay”, he tells you and your feet finally move just enough to be able to close the door with you still inside.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask like an idiot.

“I live here”, he says obviously, “but I don't think you're still looking for the bathroom”, he grins, seeing you lick your lips. “Why don't you come and take a seat?”

Your legs move on it's own once more, giving slow unsure steps in his direction. You sit on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully as he leans back, supporting his upper body on his hands, arms spread on the mattress.

He stares at you, surprised. Minho chuckles, shaking his head.

“That's not what I was talking about”, he tells you, landing his hand on his thigh and tapping there. “Why don't you try sitting here?” He asks.

You feel your whole body turning hot, why is he asking for you to sit on his lap?

“I-I should get going”, you stand up fast, but before you can walk away he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” Minho tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

No, that's not what you want. You really, really want to sit on his lap and let him do anything he wants with you. So you give in to your desires, stepping closer to him and bending down to sit on his thigh.

He bites on his bottom lip, watching you fidgeting and trying to get comfortable. By the way you're stiff, it's obvious you have never done this before and that gets him excited.

He corrects his posture, sitting with his chest close to you. One of his hands lands on your left thigh and the other goes to your waist.

Minho doesn't need to waste another second to find out that he likes you. You're just his type, shy and reserved, someone who he can corrupt. Someone who can make him go absolutely crazy.

“You see, I see the way you look at me”, he says, caressing your back with the hand he had on your waist. “Jihyo is not very quiet and every time she catches my attention you're there and every time I look at you, you're looking at me”, he says, like he's saying something you don't know. “After some time I just came to the conclusion that you may like me. Am I right about that?”

You nod automatically, like you're obligated to tell him the truth. Maybe your brain just doesn't work when you're near him.

“Hmm”, Minho hums, “tell me then, what can you do for me?”

“W-what do you mean?” You manage to ask, getting goosebumps with every touch of his.

“I mean to say, why should I choose you? I have a great number of options”, he smirks. He's teasing now, even though he's already set on making you his, he just wants to hear your answer.

You have so many things to use at your advantage, pretty lips that he wants to kiss, soft skin that he wants to leave marks all over and the sweetest voice that he wants to hear crying his name while he fucks you so deeply you'll beg him to keep going.

“Anything”, you gulp, “you can do anything you want with me, I'm entirely yours”, and that is better than anything else he could hear. That is the last straw.

Minho puts his hand behind your neck, pulling you to him and kissing you in a hungry, hot kiss. He grabs your hair with the other hand, pulling a handful and making you groan with the sudden pain but it's still so good. His tongue brushes on your lips, entering your mouth and slightly caressing yours. The way he's grabbing you is just too much, you feel like you're going to explode at any moment.

Minho lets go of you for a moment just to take his shirt off, showing you his bare chest. He gets back on grabbing you, pressing you against his body. You're not sure if this is right but it definitely doesn't feel wrong.

You take your crop top off, throw it on the floor and pray that Jihyo will forgive you for doing that with her clothes. Wrapping your arms around Minho's neck, you kiss him again, feeling his bulge beneath you.

He sneaks a hand down your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing your panties to the side as soon as he manages to reach your soaking cunt.

Minho presses a finger on your clit, you stop the kiss just to gasp and he pulls away, staring at you while he inserts a finger between your folds.

“Has anyone ever fingered you?” He whispers, listening to your low moans, you're cute trying to hold back.

You open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head. That's beautiful, he gets even more excited to know he's the first one giving you pleasure like that.

“And what about sex, have you had it before?” He asks one more question, pushing his finger in and out of you.

“A-a few times”, you struggle to say, feeling your cheeks hot.

“That's good, virgins aren't really my thing”, he smirks, “then, you can handle one more finger, right?” He asks, not waiting for your answer and pushing in another finger inside of you.

“Oh”, it's the only sound you can make. You hold him harder, with your mind dizzy. “It's too much”, you sob, feeling the stretch, it burns a bit but it's so good.

“Oh, Kitten”, he pouts. “How are you supposed to handle my cock if you can't handle two fingers? I'm bigger than that”, he smirks while saying that.

“I can do it, I can”, you nod frantically, too drunk on the pleasure of his fingers inside you to think straight.

“I'm glad you're confident”, he takes his fingers out of you and takes them to his mouth, liking every drop of your juice. “Your taste might be my new favorite”

He helps you get up, your legs are weak even though you didn't cum. Minho helps you lie on the bed, pulling your jeans down, trailing kisses down your legs while dragging out the fabric.

“You are pretty”, he mutters, taking off his pants and underwear, crawling back to stay on top of you, kissing your chest and your collarbone, biting on the skin and leaving a couple of hickeys there. Minho goes down your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples, kneading at the other with his hand. He's humping on your leg, rubbing his hard cock on your thigh.

His touch makes you feel like you're on fire, tingling sensations spreading all over your body. His kisses leave you so turned on, you don't think you ever felt this horny.

“Kitten”, he calls you, making you blush. It's crazy to think that even though you two are naked in front of each other, him calling you a pet name is what makes you flustered.

Minho gives you a peck on the lips, leaning over to the bedside table to look for a condom. He opens the package with his teeth, spitting the piece of plastic and stroking his cock on hand.

He looks so good, standing on his knees in between your legs, eyes closed feeling his fist caressing him.

“Let me do it”, you take the courage to say, sitting and taking the package out of his mouth into your hands. Minho watches you attentively as you grab the base of his cock, sliding the condom down his length.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, grabbing your face on his hands and kissing you so hard you can taste blood, not sure from which of you.

Minho positions himself in your entrance, looking at you to wait for your consent and when you nod he pushes in. You wrap your legs around his hips, trying to bring him closer even though it hurts a bit, it's so good you think you will go crazy.

“M-minho”, you moan, throwing your arms around his waist, digging your nails on his skin.

“Shit, you're perfect”, he starts moving, each trust making you moan louder. Your walls are squeezing him so deliciously that he can cum at any moment. His cock feels so good, reaching all the places you didn't even know existed.

Minho kisses you, fucking into you so fast you can barely breath. You never thought he could be even more beautiful, hair stuck on his sweaty forehead, eyes staring intensely at yours, bottom lip stuck between his teeth while he fucks you senseless. He leans closer, kissing your neck, leaving a long and a bit painful mark there.

“You're mine now”, he smiles shakily, clearly close to his release. You can feel your orgasm approaching too, cumming and tightening your legs around his hips, making his release follow yours.

Minho gives you a kiss before falling to your side, breathing heavily accompanied by you. You don't know what to say and you're scared he'll pretend this was nothing so you get up, collecting your things, not waiting for him to kick you out.

“What are you doing?” He asks, scowling.

“Getting dressed so I can get out”, you explain naively, being watched by him like you're the prey and he is the predator.

“What part of “you're mine now”, you didn't understand?” He asks, laying down with an arm beneath his head and the other stretched to the side of the bed, waiting for you to lie there. “Come back here, I'm not even nearly done with you”, he smirks, watching you blush again.

You drop the clothes you have collected, crawling back on the bed and snuggling close to him. Minho pulls you closer, turning to you and wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“I'll tell you what we're gonna do”, he explains and you nod, “I'm going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name and after that I'll take you out to dinner”

Lee Know presses his body on yours, showing you that his cock is already hardening again and you giggle, blushing once more.

Never have you felt so happy to trust drunk people's instructions.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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hysteria-things · 2 months

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REQ! I was listening to closer chainsmokers and it reminded me of chris.. 🫣

CLOSER

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub(ish)/soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: chris hasn’t had sex in a hot minute, and he’s getting sexually frustrated. even his own brothers nag him about it when they’re at the bar… and then he sees you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, drinking, dry humping, palming, p in v, stomach bulge, overstimulation, slight spanking/grabbing

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,213

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞:

THANK YOU FOR 2,000 FOLLOWERS I WANT TO GIVE YOU GUYS SMOOCHES SO BAD🫶

they’re set to be twenty-one in this!

the modernness of the hotel restaurant makes it seem fancier than it is. chris needs an alcoholic beverage, so he’s sat at the bar waiting for his drink.

“thanks,” he says to the bartender, chugging it in a few seconds.

he’s been annoyed lately, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s because he hasn’t been getting as much action recently. even his brothers pointed it out, and matt’s voice still rings in his head.

“you need to get laid, man. we’re on vacation. find a pretty girl and do your thing; you’re long overdue.”

he sighs, dragging his hands on his face. then, a laugh fills his ear. he turns his head to the source.

you’re sitting just a few seats down, laughing with your girls and clinking drinks. his eyes scan your body that’s dressed in a tight dress and some high heels.

you have a full face of makeup on, and jewelry decorating your ears and neck.

licking his lips, he clenches the empty cup tightly in his hands. it’s humiliating, to say the least, but his dick twitches. you’re just so beautiful.

one of your friends catches him, and she taps you on the shoulder and points to chris. he clears his throat, quickly turning the other way.

you turn your head to where she’s pointing and look back at her. “what?” you question.

“he was eye-fucking you, girl.” your other friend says, wiggling her eyebrows. “you should talk to him.”

you chuckle. “that’s silly.”

“it’s been too long since you’ve been dicked down.” she says, getting up from the barstool and dragging you off your own. “go. shoo, shoo!”

she pushes you to him, annoyingly tutting before walking over and leaning against the bar. “can i have a tray of tequila shots, please.” you ask, eyeing the handsome boy next to you.

he adjusts his shirt. “i like your tattoo.”

you glance down at the heart tattoo you have on your shoulder. something cute you got when you’ve turned eighteen. “thank you.”

the bartender brings you the tray, but you stay put. “what’re you doing here?” you ask, twirling your hair when he finally makes eye contact.

he stares at your lips. “a holiday with my brothers. you?”

you point behind you. “my friend’s wedding.”

you turn to your two friends to see that they’re whispering, nodding at you, giving you the okay to leave with him.

he smirks when you take two shots off the tray and down them. you grab his hand so you can lead the way.

obviously, he doesn’t question anything.

you walk to the hotel parking lot and go to where your range rover is.

the two of you give each other those eyes, and chris can’t help but get hard at the sight of it. you look down and smirk.

you open the back door and push him inside, his back leaning against the door on the opposite side.

chest heaving, his body fills with adrenaline when you shut the door behind you and lift your dress to teasingly take down your underwear.

he can’t say words, he can only admire you and your actions. he’s been waiting to do this for too long.

you unbuckle his pants and slide them down, underwear still on. straddling his lap still in your stilettos, you grind your bare pussy onto his clothed dick.

he exhales shakily, grabbing your hips to guide yourself harder onto his erection.

the way his tip brushes on your clit has him moaning underneath you, the same coming from you.

you grab his shoulders and lean in, your lips hovering centimeters away from his. “i-i never got your name.” he stammers between groans.

you smile. “y/n.”

“i’m chri— oh.” he’s cut off when you start to palm him, still rutting your hips.

“what’s that?”

“chri— mm.” you rub harder, feeling his twitching as you grab and caress his dick.

“chris?”

“y-yeah. f-fuck.” he grunts, thrusting into your hand and seeping his cum through his boxers. you purse your lips, pulling down his undergarments so they rest on his thighs. you’re so wet, and you want him inside you. bad.

“it’s nice to meet you, chris,” you whisper, connecting your lips with his as you align yourself with him. you underestimated how huge he was, and you whine in the kiss.

you need to spread your legs wider to fit him inside you.

you moan softly, bouncing on him with your mouths grazing each other, lips red from the desirable need you have for him. he’s like a magnet, pulling you closer and not wanting to stop.

your heart pounds in your chest, your noses sliding against one another. he feels so good.

his hands run gently up your back, eyes not leaving the bulge that’s protruding in your tummy. this has never happened to you before, and you scream-like moan when you feel it each time you plop yourself back on him.

“so big,” you whine, making out with him as your tongues intertwine.

“i’m cumming!” you exclaim, throwing your head back when his tip slides in repeatedly and touches your g-spot.

cum drips out of your pussy, spilling onto your thighs and his base smoothly. he moans at the sight.

the windows fog up as the car rocks, and the slap of your ass on his thighs can be heard along with your high-pitched moans. he bites the tattoo on your shoulder, leaving a red and purple mark on it.

your legs shake violently, but you don’t stop. instead, you bounce harder and faster. “sh-shit, s-slow down.”

“i can’t!” you squeal, completely drunk from the way his dick feels. the way it bulges has you clenching already, your walls getting used to the shape of him.

he’s starting to feel overstimulated, swollen from the way you’re stimulating not only him; but yourself.

“y-your cock feels so good! i lo— i love it too much!” his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you down at just the right angle that has your eyes crossing and your brain feeling foggy from the pleasure.

chris chuckles. “i-i’m not gonna last much longer.”

“i don’t care. i ju-just need you inside me, please.” you whimper, starting to get sloppy when your orgasm approaches. you try to kiss him again, but your mouth is wide open as babbles and noises come out. “oh. fu— so go-od… so good!”

brunette strands stick to his head from sweating, licking his lips when he starts twitching once again. ��i’m gonna cum, gorgeous.” he says, giving your ass a soft slap before gripping it. “you want it all, don’t you, sweet thing?”

“yes, yes, yes!” you chant, slumping forward when your release gushes around him like the last time. “i-i need it. please, cum. p-please.”

when you feel his cum paint your walls, you sigh of relief. you try to keep bouncing, but he holds you still and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

he lifts you off of him, placing you back down so he can hold you close as he rubs your back in a calming manner.

not knowing how much time passed, you guys lay there in comfortable silence. it’s like time didn’t pass at all, as if you’re never getting older.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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lithiumfae · 1 year

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nsfw headcanons | weasley twins, harry, ron and draco.

warning: filth, don’t blame me.

❥ george weasley.

experienced. this man has slept his way through all the houses, he tends to go for hufflepuffs.

he is the type of guy that guides you through it, no teasing.

he seems like the type of guy that’s into oral sex (he prefers receiving). he is also into LOUD sex, he will try his hardest to make his partner scream just to shush her right after.

“keep it down, they’re gonna hear you” said with a straight face.

he likes to be in control without being a don.

i see him as more of an ass man…

he totally goes for tall girls, there’s just something about a woman close to his height that does it for him.

the type to ask “mmm?” with a fake sad face mocking his partner when she moans too loud.

favourite position: doggy.

❥ fred weasley.

also experienced. everyone is aware of this because he WONT shut up about it.

he likes to poke fun if his partner is not savvy enough, jokes, jokes and more jokes.

he’s into short people because that makes it easier to, you guessed it, make fun of them.

this man will ask the nastiest question the human brain could conjugate in front of everyone.

“have you ever done it prone bone?” next is the sound of everyone’s spoons hitting the floor as their mouths hang open.

if the phrase red flag was a person it would be him, but we are all blind i guess. will occasionally go for the girl george finds hot just to prove a point.

boob man 100%

he loves to give oral, he loves how shy girls get when he smiles up at them.

favourite position: standing.

❥ harry potter.

he was a virgin for the longest time and it shows.

he loves making out, sometimes you think he prefers it over sex.

he flushes all the way down to his chest, rosy patches on his pale skin.

he is on the submissive side, he loves being marked.

he asks for hickies. he likes the ones that can be seen.

he prefers taller people too, the type of dude to have a crush on Lady Dimitrescu.

eye contact. he looks at you with his eyes and mouth wide open, he pants and nods his head asking a silent question.

“yes?”

when he’s getting a blowjob he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he’ll have them in the air clenching and unclenching a fist, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

the type of dude to say thank you lmaooooo

boob man too.

favorite position: cowgirl. DEFINITELY.

❥ ron weasley.

red flag personified part 2.

he’s such a jealous man but he won’t let you know until you’re having sex and you notice he refuses to kiss you.

he likes it rough and fast but he can somehow go for the next round not even 15 minutes after the first one.

stamina?????? hello?????

he likes to finger girls because it allows him to look at their faces and focus on the expressions they make.

he’s definitely shagged half the gryffindor tower but none of the girls brag about it??? he’s lowkey sad about it but also their loss yk what i mean.

sometimes he cries when he cums. it’s a little pathetic but it’s ron so it’s okay.

he gets off by having sex with slytherin girls, his ego loves it.

the type of dude to get into an enemies to lovers kind of deal.

“yeah? aren’t you embarrassed getting fucked by the bloke you hate?”

definitely into humiliation and degradation.

ass man.

favourite position: good old missionary.

❥ draco malfoy.

for all his mean bravado he is actually quite the gentleman.

if anyone out of these 5 men knows where the clit is it would definitely be him.

he likes it rough but not fast.

he is totally a dom but he is definitely not aware he is one, he doesn’t even know that those dynamics have names.

likes to pull girls’ hair to make them focus, he’ll even do it outside the bedroom. if you’re distracted while he’s telling you something at lunch he’ll pull your ponytail.

he is also into giving oral, opposite to fred he does it because HE likes it.

boobs boobs boobs boobs, oh how he loves boobs.

has a weak spot for girls with round faces.

“oh i’m so sorry love, such a pretty face stained with tears” all said with a very soft voice almost as if he was truly sorry.

he likes it wet, wet to the point where it sounds filthy.

favourite position: sideways or spooning.

#harry potter headcanon #harry potter x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #draco malfoy x reader

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jgracie · 20 days

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GOLD RUSH — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF HADES

masterlist | rules

❝ could you write headcanons of percy x daughter of hades (or persephone) reader? ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of hades

pairing percy jackson x hades!reader

warnings makeout scene but it’s very short and not explicit dw

on the radio . . . gold rush (taylor swift)

For many years, it’s always been Percy and you, you and Percy

Ever since he found you and your half-siblings, Bianca and Nico, at your old middle school, you’d been inseparable

You were distraught when you discovered the truth about your dad’s side of the family and how you missed out on the majority of your life because of it, but Percy made it all better, comforting and guiding you through the world behind the mist

It was only natural for you to end up falling for him, especially as the two of you grew up and he grew into his features, becoming increasingly handsome

However, you’re a daughter of Hades, and brought misfortune everywhere you went, so you vowed to simply watch from afar as Percy dated some other girl. Sure, you’d be miserable, but at least he’d be happy.

Besides, it's not like he’d have any trouble finding a nice girlfriend. You weren’t an idiot, you saw the way the majority of girls at camp swooned over him, dying to be in your position as you walked to the beach together

That decision is what put you in your current position. In order to distract yourself from Percy, you’d constantly pretend to have crushes on random people and accept any date proposal from any guy, a part of you hoping he’ll fill the Percy-shaped hole in your heart

Percy didn’t see you the way you saw yourself. To him, you were perfect. You’re the daughter of death, sure, but the way you breathed life into him every time you smiled said otherwise

From the moment he met you at 13, Percy had fallen hard. The thing is, he didn’t think he had a chance. To you, he was just the best friend you’d rant to about the guys you actually wanted to date, not the one you’d go out with

And whenever they broke your heart, Percy was the guy you’d run to. He’d cradle you and smother you with as much affection he could get away with every time, fighting the urge to beat that guy up for hurting you, knowing he could do so much better if you just gave him a chance

“I just really thought he’d be the one, Perce,” you mumbled into his chest, your eyes fixed on the movie in front of you. Some guy - Apollo? Nemesis? Percy didn’t really care - asked you out on a date in the mortal world, then proceeded to stand you up, not even bothering to fake an excuse

The mere thought of you standing out there in the awful rain, all alone, made Percy seethe with rage. Noticing the glass of water in front of him begin to shake, Percy calmed himself down, choosing to instead rub your back and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you cried

If he was that guy, he wouldn’t have stood you up. In fact, he would’ve picked you up from your cabin himself in order to ensure your safety on the journey

Little did Percy know, you weren’t crying because of being stood up. Sure, it was a little embarrassing, but you didn’t care about that son of Nike at all. He just saw you as a competition to win. Once he’d gotten you to agree to go out with him and humiliated you in front of random mortals, he considered his job done

You were upset because you were sick of your heart. Every date, whether good or bad, never resulted in your feelings for Percy going away. On the contrary, they got stronger every time, as you’d analyse your date’s every move and think, ‘Percy wouldn’t do something like that’ at every minor inconvenience

As Artemis drove her moon chariot in the sky, the two of you sent opposite prayers to whoever happened to be listening, the desperation in your thoughts being the only thing they had in common

Still, you continued to date random people. Percy continued to feel his heart shatter every time you barged into his cabin to tell him all about this new guy you met, already able to guess the outcome

Just as you were about to lose hope, Aphrodite sent you an angel. Marcus was a son of Hecate, beautiful in the way petrichor feels like a warm hug, and he liked you

You could tell almost immediately, from the way his eyes seemed incapable of meeting yours to the rhythmic tapping of his feet as he spoke to you. And he was cute too. Was he Percy-level cute? No, no one could be that cute, but he was definitely up there

So, you bided your time. Maybe he would be the one you were waiting for. When he asked you out on a date, you couldn’t be happier, agreeing before he could even finish his sentence and running to tell Percy

Percy could tell Marcus was different. You spoke of him like he held the sky above the Earth, your eyes sparkling

He had to do something about this. He couldn’t stand around waiting for you anymore, and he couldn’t believe it took him this long to realise it

While you prepared for your date with Marcus, Percy decided to seek advice from the only woman in his life he believed he could trust to handle his situation

Sally Jackson made her way over to her son, handing him a plate of cookies and ruffling his hair before sitting in front of him, “so, what did you wanna talk about?” She asked, concerned. She’d never seen Percy like this before

“Well… you know Y/N, right?” He began, biting into a cookie. She nodded, already having an idea as to where this conversation was heading

Sighing, Percy continued, “I really like her, mom. I’ve liked her for years now, but she seems to have eyes for anyone but me. Before, it didn’t bother me that much, but now she’s going on a date with this Hecate kid and I can tell he’s different from all the other ones and I just don’t know what to do. I thought about sabotaging it somehow, she doesn’t deserve to have her date ruined.”

The answer to his problem was so obvious Sally had to stop herself from pulling her hair out, “why don’t you just tell her that? Speak from the heart, Percy. Y/N’s a nice girl, even if she doesn’t like you back, she won’t hate you for it.”

His mother was so smart. Percy had to tell you, even if the only thing he’d get out of his confession is a weight lifted off his shoulders. Suddenly, he was filled with adrenaline as he remembered that your date was today.

Grabbing the remaining cookies and stuffing them into his bag, Percy yelled a jumbled-up excuse to his mother then ran out of the door and all the way to the nearest taxi

Once he got there, he made his way to your cabin, nearly breaking down the door as he entered

“Y/N please don’t go on that date!” He nearly screamed. You were dressed in pyjamas with a face mask on and watching a movie, which confused Percy. You should be getting ready by now

“I’m not going, Marcus caught a cold from one of his siblings, so we rescheduled to next week,” you answered, then, when what he requested of you finally clicked in your head, “why do you care?”

“Because you should be going on a date with me,” Percy said, finally calming down, “I love you more than anyone in this whole camp, Y/N. I’ve loved you since we were 13, but I was too nervous to do anything about it. I’m sorry if this ruins your date with Marcus, I know you were really looking forward to it and–” Percy stopped talking when he noticed the expression on your face

You were beaming. The way light from the window shone on your face would have anyone mistaking you for a child of Apollo, “I love you too, Percy. I’ll cancel on Marcus. Do you wanna watch this with me?”

Honestly, you and Percy dating didn’t change much in your relationship. You became a little more touchy and were no longer afraid to declare your adorations to the other, but other than that, Percy was still the same guy you’d been crushing on all these years

It took people at camp a while to realise you’re a couple because of this. The Aphrodite cabin knew, but no one else believed them until they caught you guys making out behind cabin 3

You gasped for air as Percy finally let go of your lips. What started as a mere kiss turned into another, then three, then a whole make-out session behind his cabin, "Perce, we're in public, there are kids in camp," you said, the smile on your face growing

"Don't care," Percy replied, locking lips with you yet again, "love you so much," he said in between breaths. You didn't pull away, content with staying on cloud nine with him, for eternity

Well, it would've been an eternity if it weren't for the sound of gasps and cheers pulling you down to Earth. You pushed Percy away from you, too shy to look anyone in the eye after what just happened. Meanwhile, Percy just smirked as he heard exclaims of, "I told you they were a thing!"

Soon enough, news spread and made its way to a certain half-brother of yours, who wasn’t afraid to give Percy a lengthy description detailing what’d happen to him if he even thought of hurting you

Nico knowing meant Hades found out too. You have a good relationship with your dad, visiting him and your stepmother, Persephone, every once in a while

So, Nico also came bearing a message from Hades, who swore on the Styx to do everything in his power to put Percy in the Fields of Punishment if he ever caused you any pain

Percy wasn’t intimidated by any of these threats, since he knew he’d hurt himself before laying a finger on you

Sally is SO delighted that the two of you are a couple. Honestly, she was the first to see it when Percy first brought you over, she just didn’t say anything because she wanted you guys to figure it out on your own

She adores you so much though. Percy thinks she loves you more than she loves him sometimes. She’s always giving him little trinkets and baked goods to give to you!!

You sparred together all the time before you started dating, since as children of the big three, you’re only allowed to fight each other. However, since you started dating, you noticed Percy start to loosen up a little

He thinks you don’t know but you do. He doesn’t want to hurt you!!!

Every day, Percy makes it his mission to prove that just because you’re a daughter of Hades, doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. So far, he hasn’t failed

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcannons #percy jackson x hades reader #percy jackson x daughter of hades #hades pjo #children of hades #daughter of hades #cynwrites

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stillmonsterz · 2 months

Text

when you split the heart open

pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)

genre: smut, angst (?)

summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck

word count: 5.1k

---

Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.

He disliked having sex with her.

Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.

Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.

He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.

At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.

She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.

It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.

One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.

“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.

Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.

“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”

“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”

“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”

“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.

“You find me beautiful?”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”

“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.

“Anything for me?”

“Anything, Heeseung.”

“I have an idea.”

He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.

His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”

Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.

She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”

“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”

She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”

“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”

His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”

“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.

“I’m not a nympho-,”

“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.

“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”

To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.

Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.

“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.

“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.

Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.

He was going to have so much fun.

The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.

They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.

On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude, rubbing lotion all over herself.

When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.

A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.

So he had asked for something else.

---

“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.

Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”

“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”

He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”

Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”

“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”

“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”

Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”

He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”

That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.

The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”

Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”

Heeseung was elated.

She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.

The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.

His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.

When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.

A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.

After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”

She scoffed. “My voice?”

Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”

His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”

“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”

“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”

Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”

She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.

After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.

He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.

The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.

He knew what he wanted from her.

On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.

Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.

With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”

“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“I have it right here,” she replied.

They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”

Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”

“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”

She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.

“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.

“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”

---

The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.

He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.

In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.

Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.

Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.

“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”

She told him her name, and he nodded.

“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”

Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”

Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.

Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.

Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.

Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.

Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.

Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.

His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.

Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.

Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.

With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.

Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.

As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.

Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.

She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”

She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.

“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”

She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”

“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.

Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”

Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Heeseung.”

He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.

He had never felt so in love.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut

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sincerelyrki · 4 months

Text

PIKA PIKA

↳ NISHIMURA RIKI SMAU

fate works in different ways, sometimes it even comes disguised as a life sized pikachu and a clumsy idol.

SYNOPSIS ➙ Niki knew that the pikachu’s on stage with them were real people dressed in a costume but that doesn’t mean he can’t get shocked after accidentally revealing one of their identities. his shock quickly changed to amusement as the revealed pikachu could only think of one thing to say as the tension in the room heightened- “pika pika?” it’s not like you could avoid him after humiliating yourself either, you still have all of tour left.

PAIRING ➙ idol!riki x nonidol!fem!reader

WARNINGS + GENRE ➙ smau. fluff. riki is down bad. forced proximity. opposites attract. reader is the leader of a 5 member dance group. angst. friendly fighting. real fighting (js one scene). overprotective riki. jealousy. yn gets in some fights. older reader (a year older). more to be added if necessary.

STATUS ➙ STARTED ! HIATUS [march 27, 2024]

TAGLIST ➙ OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added

FEAT ➙ chuu (soloist). jaehyun (boynextdoor). wonbin (riize). ricky (zerobaseone). yuma (&team)

A/N ➙ i lied this one comes before he loves me not 😝😝 anywaysss

spotify playlist

PROFILES

| chuu’s chu (plural)

| emflopout

| yn’s dads

| fan accounts aka the holy grail

CHAPTERS

| one : if you want something to play with get a pikachu

| two : Shit day 😔

| three : girl he doesn’t want you [ written ]

| four : merrily we fall out of line…

| five : 1 2 3 any boys here? ❤️😍😝

| six : cake and candles my brother [ written ]

| seven : take off your sunglasses

| eight : fuck ass tom holland

| nine : reliable car max?

| ten : twenty questions

| eleven : MADE IT TO THE PRIV 💪

| twelve : my pini <3

| thirteen : i think i have a stalker

tba + titles are subject to change

@ SINCERELYRKI do not plagiarize, translate, copy or repost

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lunarzstarz · 1 year

Text

Jealous

Pairing: Rockstar!EddieMunson x Rockstar!Fem!Reader

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it guys!) slight degradation, spanking, edging/denial, slight humiliation?? slightly proofread

Summary: Eddie finally figures out why you've been acting like such a bitch towards him and won't stop until you finally admit it to him (or Eddie fucking you till you admit you're jealous of him getting with other girls (I'm so shit at summaries bye)

A/N: based off of this ask, been meaning to write some rockstar!eddie for a while so I just had to write this, not sure how I feel about it yet, but hope you guys like it!

Also for those asking about the link to the audio mentioned in the original ask here you go: https://soundgasm.net/u/misterblissful/M4F-Its-Not-About-The-Party

(btw I'm making an Eddie Munson taglist so if you're interested just lmk AND TYSM FOR 1K+ FOLLOWERS WHAT?!)

As always, likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

Word Count: 2.7k

You had just finished your third encore, the crowd chanting and cheering as you made your way off stage, the rest of the band following, all of you high off that post show buzz. The boys are still shouting and laughing behind you as you head backstage, exhausted after putting on one of your best performances yet.

Opening the door that had a “Corroded Coffin” sign stuck to it, you’re met with a room filled with a handful of girls, all clad in leather and red lipstick, girls that you noticed the boys had been eyeing up all night, especially Eddie. It was routine for him to pick his favourites and invite them backstage after the show, new girls every night so he could let out some of that adrenaline.

The girls stare as the rest of the band follow you inside, each of you taking a seat on the beaten up leather couches that were scattered around the room. Eddie sits facing you, already pulling one of the girls into his lap as she congratulates him on such a good show, practically shoving her tits in his face. You fight not to roll your eyes as he thanks her, he really couldn’t care less about what she had to say, cutting off her rambling by shoving his tongue down her throat, she wasn’t gonna protest.

“Definitely one of our best, the crowd was insane!” Gareth says, lighting up a post show joint, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch, one of the girls making their way over to him.

You think about biting your tongue, but when the girl practically started moaning as Eddie groped her, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hmm I don’t know…” you sigh, chipping away at your nail polish.

Eddie pulls away from the girl, snapping his head in your direction “Here she goes, what now?”

You hear Gareth and Jeff groan, they knew what was about to happen, it always did after a show. “I don’t know, just think you sounded a bit…pitchy is all” you lie. Eddie played and sang perfectly tonight, you all did, but you knew that commenting on his performance would get under his skin, it always did, maybe even bruise his ego a little.

He laughs, no humour behind it “pitchy?”

“Yeah, pitchy” you glare at him “Sounded like you were dying on the fifth song, just saying…”

“Yeah? Well you were out of tune the whole night, don’t see me commenting on that or the fact you weren’t in time with the band for half the songs” he snaps.

“Me? Your the one who fucked up your solo and-”

“Right, guys can we not do this tonight? Heads fucking killing me” Gareth groans, sinking further into is seat.

“No, no, if she has something to say she can say it!” Eddie says, pushing the girl off his lap, she huffs, sulking in her seat, shooting daggers at you for interfering with her fun.

“Well all I’m saying is it can’t be that hard to sing a few songs” you roll your eyes at him and he scoffs.

“And all I’m saying is, is it that fucking hard to not be a bitch after every show!” He starts raising his voice.

“I’m a bitch? Well you’re a shit singer and a dick, I was only giving you constructive criticism” you shout right back, getting up to leave.

“I’ll give you constructive criticism-” he stands with you and Jeff grabs him.

“Sit down! The both of you need to chill out” he said, sounding exasperated. You and Eddie stare at each other, blood boiling, looking ready to tear one another apart any second now.

“What is your fucking deal?” Eddie spat, getting in your face this time.

“My deal? My deal is you don’t care about this band or putting on a good show, all you care about getting your dick wet and fucking whores after shows!” You spat right back at him, you weren’t afraid to fight.

Eddie said nothing, but it was like a lightbulb went off in his mind as he stared down at you, his gaze darkening. Jeff urged you back into your seats, Eddie still watching you intently. “Now can I trust you not to rip each other’s throats out while I go call Steph?” Jeff asks, standing between the two, scolding you like children.

The silence was a good enough answer as he disappeared out back to call his girlfriend. You sat back in your seat, lighting up a cigarette, puffing on it angrily, the only thing filling the quiet was the music playing over the staticy speakers and the sound of Eddie’s lips smacking against the girl's neck.

You couldn’t help but spare a glance at them. She was straddling his lap at this point, his hands gripping at her waist as he attacked her neck. He makes eye contact with you as he slides his hand up her skirt. You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away, if you didn’t leave now he’d probably fuck her in front of you too.

“I’m going to the bathroom” you announce bluntly, not caring if anyone acknowledged as you stubbed out your cigarette and left. You couldn’t stand to sit there and watch Eddie be with that girl, it was the same every night, girls, girls, girls. He clearly couldn’t get enough of them and most of the time you had no other choice to watch.

You walk down the corridor, earning a few compliments on your performance from the stage crew on your way. You head into the small bathroom and lock the door. The fluorescent lights flickered above you as you took in your reflection. Hair a bit dishevelled and eyeliner smudged after hours of performing, you sigh, doing your best to fix it.

Checking the time, it was still quite early considering it was a show night, but maybe you should just head back to the hotel? There wasn’t much to do here, you could maybe head out to the bar for a few hours, find yourself someone for the night, but you didn’t feel like it.

You were raking your fingers through your hair, trying to tame it in some way when there was banging on the door “Occupied!” you called, hoping whoever it was would leave. They banged again, harder this time “Hey I said-”

“It’s me” Eddie’s voice came from the other side.

“So? I’m busy, go away” you ignore him, going back to fixing your lipstick.

“Just open the fucking door” he snaps, jiggling he handle.

You sigh, turning the lock and swinging the door open “What?” He doesn’t give you a second to move before he’s pushing his way inside, almost knocking you over. “Jesus- let me out first!” You shove him, but he locks the door behind himself and blocks you from leaving.

“Let me out you creep!” You push him again but he wouldn’t budge.

“No.” He says, crossing his arms.

“No?” You scoff at him “Eddie get the fuck out of my way.”

“No, not until you admit you’re jealous.”

You look at him, confused “jealous?”

“That’s right” he stands up straighter.

“Why would I be jealous?” You mirror his stance, keeping up your act.

“I don’t know” he takes a step towards you “I think you’re jealous of me fucking other girls, think you want me all to yourself.”

You step back, though there wasn’t much more you could move, your back hitting the sink “Please..” you sneer, diverting your eyes to the tiled floor.

“No need to beg for it sweetheart” he takes another step closer, placing his arms on either side of the sink, caging you in as he towered over you.

You could feel his smokey breath on your neck as he leaned down “Just admit it and I’ll let you go.”

You took a deep breath, bringing yourself to look up at him, the way he was looking at you, it took everything not to give up your act. “I’m. Not. Jealous.”

He laughs “fine, don’t want to admit it?” he grabs your waist and forces you to turn around.

“Eddie what the-“ he gripped your chin, making you meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Sooner you admit it, sooner you can go” he says, moving your hair out of the way, watching your reflection as he lowers his mouth to your neck. Before you can object, even if you didn’t want to, you feel his teeth grazing over your sensitive skin, tugging it between his lips and soothing his tongue over each bite.

You hold back from letting any sounds escape, you weren’t giving into him that easily, even if it did feel great. You watch as his hand loosens its grip on your chin, sliding over the expanse of your throat, down to your chest, cupping at your tits through the thin fabric of your tight dress.

A small sound bubbles in your throat as he pinches your nipples and sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear, you feel him smirk against your skin. “What was that?” he mutters, breath tickling your neck.

He lets his free hand wander down over your chest and stomach, to the hem of your dress, lifting it up round your waist. You feel his fingers press on the damp fabric of your underwear, dragging them up over your clit.

You bite back a moan, eyes fluttering shut. He pulls away, landing a hard smack to your ass causing you to hiss and buckle forward. You glare at his reflection.

“Want you to watch yourself while I fuck you” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and dragging them down your legs till they fall around your ankles.

He stared down at your bare cunt, knocking your legs wider so he could spread you open. He makes eye contact with you as he glides his fingers through your slick “this for me?”

“A-as if” you say, a little breathless, he smiles.

He starts to undo his belt and jeans, you listen to the clinking as he pulls them down his thighs, taking out his cock and stroking himself “See what you do to me? I can admit I want to fuck you, it’s not hard.”

“I don’t want to fuck you” you say through gritted teeth, feeling his hand run through your folds.

“No? Then why aren’t you stopping me?” He pushes you forward, forcing you to lean on your elbows as he positions himself behind you. “I think this is what you wanted all along, isn't it. Want me to fuck the truth out of you?”

Your silence is all the answer he needs. He grabs your hips, letting a glob of his spit drop onto your folds, grabbing himself by the base to slide his head through it.

You whine, grip tightening on the porcelain, his smug smile only grows as he pushes the tip of his cock into you. You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped you as you felt him stretching you out, your eyes screwing shut.

He stops, landing another smack to your ass “hey, told you I wanted to you watch” his voice stern.

You force yourself to look at him again as he pushes the rest of his length into you, making you feel impossibly full. “Now I’ll give you one more chance to confess.”

You stare at his reflection, you hated that he was right, but you weren’t letting him win this time. Admitting to Eddie that the reason you’d been a bitch to him was just because you wanted to fuck him, he’d never let you live it down. “I’m not jealous.”

“Fine” he sighs, pulling all the way before slamming right back into you. You practically squeal, rushing to cover your mouth with the palm of your hand. Eddie tsks, grabbing both of your wrists and holding your arms behind your back with one hand.

“Want you to hear how pathetic you sound when I’m fucking you on my cock” he grunts, starting his fast pace, using his grip on your wrists as leverage. You could do nothing but fall into submission, the feeling of him so deep inside, dragging over all those perfect spots, it made you a mess in seconds.

You watch the two of you in the mirror, Eddie has his lip tucked between his teeth, watching himself fuck into, while you unravel beneath him. “Poor things pulling me in, been neglected for so long hasn’t she” he face pouts at your reflection, you can do nothing but whimper in response, the room filling with the wet sounds of your slick.

Your whole body was on fire, your arms beginning to ache as he pinned them back. “Fuck- you feel fucking amazing, better than all my whores huh?” he taunts, watching you try so hard to keep your eyes on him. “Bet you knew you were better, bet that's why you were jealous, jealous that they had all my attention and not you?”

You weren’t giving in. He let go of your wrists, bringing up one of your knees to rest against the sink, hitting you at a new angle that drove you crazy. Pleasure shot through your core, building fast, you collapsed onto the counter, forehead resting against the cool porcelain. Another hard slap to your ass had you rocking back into him.

“Thought I told you to watch? Pick your head up” he orders, but you can’t, you were so close already, you’d felt like you lost control over your body.

“I- I can’t” you pant, huffing in defeat, gripping onto the sink so hard your knuckles turned white.

He laced his fingers through your hair, tugging on it harshly, the burn making you moan “Got to do everything for you huh? You that fucking dumb?” you shake your head in response.

“P-please Eddie- I’m-” you couldn’t finish a sentence, your head was spinning, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Please what? You gonna cum?” he asks, reaching around you to rub your clit.

“Fuck! Please Eddie, please” you beg, feeling yourself approaching the edge of your release.

“No, not until you admit you wanted this, that you’re oh fuck- not until you admit you’re jealous” he brings you right to the edge, losing it when he feels your walls tightening around him “Don’t you fucking dare cum.”

Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks from the intensity of it all “P-please I need to-”

“All you gotta do is admit it, better hurry, so fuckin’ close I’ll cum in you and leave you here to help yourself out” he hisses, he’d been holding off long enough.

You couldn’t hold on any longer, the ache between your legs growing, you needed your release. Swallowing your pride you make eye contact with him “I-’m sorry for being such a- oh shit-”

“Come on you can do it, I’m so close baby come on” Eddie was also losing it, watching you fall apart.

“For being s-such a bitch, I was- I was jealous” you whine, no longer able to keep yourself up.

“Apology accepted” Eddie grips your hips, pounding into you at a brutal pace “You can cum.”

You finally let go of all that tension, crying a mantra of his name as you cum, listening to Eddie curse behind you as he empties his load inside of you. “Jesus- fucking- christ-” He pumps into you a few more times, making sure you took every last drop.

You lay resting against the sink, breathing uneven and legs weak. You feel Eddie pull out, fixing your underwear in place to keep his release inside of you, pulling your dress back down. “Got anything to say about that performance?” he teases, soothing a hand over your back, you groan in response, he laughs.

“Maybe next time you can be a big girl and come tell me what you want from me instead of being such a brat about it.”

taglist: @reidsaurora-replies @hornyhornyhimbos @niyahwhoreworld @hargrovesswifee @iunaelumen777

#rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!reader #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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shuamorollss · 4 months

Text

Café Amnesia — l.sm x f!reader

— When your insane crush on Lee Seokmin hits a curb when he yells out the wrong name for your order whilst having your name written perfectly fine on your cup.

How the hell was he able to fuck your name up so badly?

On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.

romcom, mutual pining, cafe au with a pinch of univ, strangers2friends2lovers warnings/notes— They're both whipped for each other(Seokmin mostly), there's a whole segment of reader suffering from period cramps, uhmm I'll add more :> 1.7k wc TEASER . Estimated full wc: 10k-12k + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon @writingmeraki

"Girl, take your chance. He's right there taking orders!" Im Nayeon encouraged as the both of you took a step inside the bittersweet aromatic premises.

Oh yes, this very Café, not only were you a regular customer here, you were also known by your friends to be limping hearts for someone around these ambient walls.

Strangers might say, Oh, this person must really love the coffee here.

Although your friends would definitely say, Oh, he just loves the coffee made by brew. A code name your friends have made to pertain to him.

The very ‘brew’ on the counter, taking orders with his usual sweet smile.

Lee Seokmin.

Oh that man, how could you ever describe him?

Seokmin’s a family friend, you usually see him outside Café territory. Even visiting your home multiple times just to have a chat with your family. Crazy how a guy so cute and so close to your age is more talkative with the likes of your aunts and uncles.

You have always noticed his presence even before he started working in your favorite Café, though you only developed ominous worries by the time he started working there.

There was something about his mere presence that irks you a certain way, never in a bad way, quite unsure in a good way.

How would he have this effect on you so suddenly?

It doesn't make sense.

You only view him discerningly from your balcony as he laughs with your mom at the gate. He’s a peculiar guy, who only visits your home to greet anyone but the people his age.

You didn't care about it, you didn't even ponder any further with his visits, you weren't as much bothered with his bond with your relatives… So why do you feel the opposite of the things just mentioned now?

"Uhm, Y/N?" a voice echoed, shaking you through your thoughts.

…

"Huh? "

You blinked out of your rainbow towered thoughts, checking the very man standing in front of you with an intense gaze.

Everything felt sudden, you were just giggling with Nayeon earlier at the back of the line and now you're… here.

"Your order please?" He repeats, raising his brow as his eyes fixed on you, patiently waiting for your response.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't take a look at his face for longer than 2 seconds. You didn't want to become a blushing, stuttering mess in front of him, you had to erase such humiliation as this has probably happened to many times within his view.

You take a good look at the menu for a short while, subtly attempting to compose yourself. Then back to looking into his eyes with a determined smile.

"Ah— Uhm… Two iced caffe latte please." you spoke out, you eyes averting away after you realized you might be looking at him for a bit too long.

"Size?" He questioned.

"Both grande."

“Alright, name?” He asks, leaving you slightly dumber and might be dumbest since you were so so sure he had mentioned your name before, the name you own, the name he lets out to escape you from the unrealistic wonders of your mind.

Well, you guess he had to do it for the professional setting.

“Y/N.” You answered with a warm smile.

He nodded, starting to scribble your name on both cups.

You stared at him for a brief second before darting your eyes out of his figure again. It was an awkward, unnecessary feat you have, however you feel a pinch of guilt for staring at him for too long… You didn't think you would have a chance anyway, or would even notice your gaze fixated on him for an uncomfortable amount of time.

You were great with eye contact, you swore that to life.

Now it’s just different in front of him.

The transaction ended smoothly, thankfully, he gave out your remaining change and you turned around leaving with a wide grin that seemed stuck on your face for the next few minutes.

Nayeon notices your change of demeanor, mirroring your subtle excitement as your footsteps approach her figure.

“So, how did it go?!” She slowly squealed, her bunny teeth entirely evident as her emotions seemed to be ecstatic at yours.

“It went good,” You answer with the same wide grin. “It went with the usual order but this time, he asked for my name.”

Nayeon’s smile immediately falters at your answer, her reaction unsatisfied.

“Y/N, that's… he does that to everyone, it’s his job.” She deadpans.

“No no no, I mean. I was like— thinking about something you know?— I was in deep thought, and then Seok— I mean him, Brew, called me by my name and that took me out of my trance,” You paused, earning back your composure. “Then all of a sudden, he just asks me for my name when he was about to write it on the cup? Like, isn't that weird?! He called me before, with the perfect pronunciation of my name, and then asks about it afterwards?”

Nayeon’s reaction did make any sort of change, yet here you are, at the verge of squealing at the half-assed interaction she had ever heard.

Though, to be fair, she had heard more shit stains than this.

“Darling, Y/N, I'm sorry, but, you just have to get better than that..?” Her tone rose unsurely, you could tell she wasn't atoned with the happening, well, it wasn't supposed to be squealed about. You couldn't admit it to her but, it was indeed a boring interaction.

As much as you were extremely down bad for the man, you couldn't act upon it. Why would you? He’s so out of your reach. He wouldn't even look at you in the eyes, never even greeted you when you were at home, and not even bothered to have your parents introduce him to you.

So why would you try and befriend him if the hints are obviously at plain sight that your parents don't want him for you.

Gahh?! What is wrong with me?! you argue along with your conscience. This case seriously needs to be studied for the reason that this regression did not go unnoticed by you. You had a chance to talk to him before but now it just seems too far of a run to be able to reach.

As you and Nayeon remain seated, patiently waiting for your order while she voices out her stress about the upcoming midterm exams, a certain voice echoes throughout the area.

A name kept being called.

Twice, thrice, you don't even know how to word it out the fourth time and so on.

It was embarrassing how this man, Seokmin, was honking a name no one responds to in such a quiet auranescent place. Almost everyone in the Café gave their shares of baffled looks at Seokmin’s way, you gave your shares of it also, until Seokmin’s gaze points at you.

The drink on his hands reached out to your direction, mouthing the words to what seems to be “you.”

Nayeon catches onto this quickly and nudges you out of your seat, so you could reach the drinks on what you assumed to be yours and Nayeon’s, which in fact right now, you were still unsure of.

You make your way awkwardly towards the man, your eyes circling around the Café, releasing a breath of relief at the realization that the customers had gone back to their personal businesses, although the embarrassing flush still creeps into you as you step closer and closer to the counter.

“You, yes you.” Seokmin lets out with a sigh of relief you swore you just did a few seconds back.

“Here's your order, I’ve been calling out for you for 4 years.” He jokes, a bit weak but it was tolerable. He’s handing the two lattes you ordered, still dumbfounded at the fact this was your order.

But he said your name wrong

extremely wrong. unpleasantly wrong. absolutely wrong.

It wasn't even close to your name at all— it's just wrong.

You never felt so embarrassingly offended in your life.

The way he says that too casually, audaciously loud, couldn't even set you off to the right track. You still think he's getting the wrong person to give this order to.

But it was the correct order, the one you recited to him.

He knew you, that's for sure, but how— wha?—

“Oh, thanks.” You say dryly, grabbing your order and walking away with a forced smile. Not even bothering to correct him, just because.

You examine the drink, still unsure if this was actually what you ordered (Which it really is), then turning it to the other side of the cup to read your name,

perfectly spelled.

Which bombards your thoughts with even more questions.

How was he able to fuck your name up so badly?

On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.

You went back to the gracious face from Nayeon holding her laugh.

“Well, that's what I call an interaction.” She welled, leaning back onto her seat with a squeaky laugh.

You were quite embarrassed by the whole situation, yet a gush of butterflies lingered in your stomach shooting to the realization that Seokmin had joked with you.

It was unusual, but you’d be content with it at best.

Nayeon repeats the name Seokmin kept calling out a few minutes back, which somehow became unbearable coming from her.

You slide her drink with a clear frown, aggressively sitting on your seat without laying a single look at your friend.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you know I'm just kidding..— woah.” Her eyes widened as her eyes lays at the name spelt on her drink. You could tell the element of surprise creeping up into her whole being as she tries to piece things together.

“Y/N, your name is spelled correctly here?”

You roll your eyes, “Wow, I didn't even notice.” You reply with evidently toned grouchiness.

She gives you the same wide eyes yet the edges of her lips begin to perk up.

You know where she's getting at.

“Y/N! Do you know what this means?!”

You lock your gaze at her, waiting to continue her words.

“He yelled and butchered your name on purpose!” She says ecstatically.

Yeah, you have already established that.

#k-labels #seokmin x reader #dk x reader #lee seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seokmin fluff #lee seokmin fluff #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #lee seokmin #dokyeom #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom x reader dluff

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flowerandblood · 3 months

Text

The Knight & The Judge

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination and humiliation kink, description of physical and mental disabilities, prejudices against disabled people, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, trauma, mention of an accident with fatalities ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance

Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight

Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard

Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

On that day it seemed to him that the whole world had turned against him. His coffee machine had broken down, there was more traffic than usual on the roads, he was sure he would be late for work, and his brother had woken up in a mood worse than always and cried all the way to the centre.

"I don't want to go there. I-I'm scared of some of those kids." He muttered under his breath, swallowing loudly, whooping with tears. He looked at him in the mirror, feeling a squeeze in his throat every morning when he left him there, but saw no other alternative.

He still hadn't recovered mentally after what had happened five years ago and, according to his psychiatrist, he wasn't ready to attend a normal school until he gained more confidence.

He did not want to force him to listen to unpleasant comments, however, he felt uncomfortable himself.

The centre was huge, classes were taught in different groups of matched children, however, there were times when Daeron encountered kids with a spectrum of disabilities other than physical and was simply afraid of them.

He tried to explain it to him, but how was a child supposed to understand these complicated, sometimes even uncontrollable behaviours and screams?

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, turning on the right indicator with his hand, driving into the car park of the building where he would leave him for the time he spent at work, during which he studied and had various extra classes with children with problems similar to his.

However, was he to surround himself all his life only with children who had mobility problems, who had no arms or legs, who suffered from paresis or lack of feeling in their limbs?

Every time he thought about it he wanted to cry.

He turned off the engine, staring dully ahead, hearing his mother's screams again in the background of his mind as his father fainted behind the wheel and drove off the road into the other lane – he felt once again that hard crash with the big truck coming from the opposite direction that crushed them.

They were only alive because they were in the back seats at the time, Daeron, however, was not as lucky as he was.

Compared to what happened to his younger brother, the glass that smashed into the left side of his face was nothing.

"Mrs Thomson said you can't spend all day at home doing one-to-one tuition. You have to see other children." He calmly repeated the formula he said whenever such a situation arose, opening his door, heading for the boot of his big black SUV – the car dealership had told him it was the safest and biggest model they had.

He took out the small wheelchair that had been put together and unfolded it, driving it closer, to the back seat where his brother sat, opening it – he looked away, unable to watch his brother's weeping face.

"I'm already late for work. Please. I promise we'll play FIFA' 23 together when we get back. Hm?" He muttered, and Daeron nodded, pale, breathing loudly, using his hands to move slowly towards the wheelchair onto which he shifted the weight of his body, hissing loudly as he lifted his legs onto the special supports.

The bones of his little legs had been simply crushed then – he continued to grow, the rehabilitation was hard and caused him great pain.

He would have preferred it to be him who suffered like this and not an innocent child, but God, who he wasn't sure he still believed in despite the deep faith his mother had always instilled in him, decided otherwise.

He closed the car and moved with him to the main entrance, pushing his wheelchair forward. When they got inside they were greeted by a lady they knew very well, several of his friends waved to Daeron, one of them was paralysed from the waist down, the other was missing one arm.

He swallowed loudly, thinking that his brother had to watch someone else's misfortune every day, himself for sure feeling like a cripple, like someone defective, someone who was a burden, even though he loved him the most in the world.

The cruelty of the situation left him with a clenched throat, so he would usually only throw him a few words to say goodbye, stroke his head and leave, only by the car tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, his healthy eye burning from the moisture that gathered under his eyelids.

As he always did in moments of breakdown, he started the engine, selected the number of his sister phone on the display under his dashboard and, turning on loudspeaker mode, started backing his car as he tried to drive out of the car park and drove ahead towards the national prosecutor's office.

"Hello? Aemond, did something happen?"

He heard Helaena's soft, sleepy voice. He knew she was still doing overtime as a doctor, overworking herself as much as he was and thought that he had woken her up after the night shift.

He felt remorse for not being able to handle it himself, although she always reassured him that she would always help him as best she could.

She got Daeron the best possible physiotherapist so that he was even able to take a few steps in the last month while holding on to his supports, however it still caused him great pain, the doctors said his bones would continue to hurt as long as he grew.

Perpetual undeserved suffering.

"I don't know what to do anymore. He says he is afraid of some of the children, those with intellectual disabilities. I know it's cruel, but fuck, I'd be scared of some of them too. Do they have to see each other in the same building, pass each other in the corridor? Shouldn't they be separated somehow?"

"God, Aemond, they're not animals. After all, they're children too." She said with sadness and resentment – he clenched his eye, sighing impatiently, trying to focus on the road again, tense.

"I know. I know. I really feel for them, but it's bad for his psyche. He recently asked me if he was normal, if he too would start shouting and babbling like them. That sometimes they are aggressive and the carers have to drag them away from him and his friends."

"It's horrible. Maybe he really should go there less often?" She asked sighing quietly, he heard her rise up on the bed with a quiet creak of the mattress.

"And what, he's going to sit at home with some boring old teacher? How will I know that no harm comes to him in my absence?" He asked resignedly, hearing silence on the other side for some time.

"Maybe find someone who won't be very distant in age. Someone who won't just teach him, but play with him and spend time with him. Someone old enough to be responsible for him and at the same time young enough not to feel so distant. Someone joyful." She replied, and he rolled his eyes as he drove into the underground car park of his office building.

"Joyful? I am supposed to pay someone to be joyful?" He sneered, shaking his head, his sister sighed again.

"He needs it, Aemond. We're all tired, and he's a child."

He hung up after a few minutes of further discussion, telling her he had to go, grabbed the case folders he'd just brought in and headed for the underground lift. He pressed the button showing the floor he wanted to move to when a woman's hand stopped the sliding doors, which opened a moment later.

Alys smiled broadly at him as she stepped inside with a confident stride – her high black heels emphasised how slender and long her legs were, her fitted, waist high pencil trousers and black blazer with a beautiful white shirt underneath highlighted both her confidence and her attractiveness.

He remembered the last few times the thrusts of his hips had pushed her into her desk, bent over and helpless, with firm, wide buttocks on which he tightened his fingers as he panted heavily, watching what he was doing to her, rooting into her again and again, thinking with mockery and amusement how easy it was to make a mere whore out of such a proud woman.

"Good morning, Mr Prosecutor." She said softly, contentment and calmness on her face, several of their intense close-ups had clearly left an intense mark in her, not just physical.

She liked the violent and determined ones, he knew that – she hid her age well and apparently decided that this was the last moment in her life when she could reach for what she wanted.

"Good morning, Miss Rivers." He replied calmly, uninterested in her ambiguous look, apparently suggesting that she wouldn't mind if what happened between them was repeated a few more times.

He was all about the sex. He was frustrated in this aspect – his artificial eye, although perfectly colour-matched to the other and the still clearly visible scar from where the glass pierced in, were a source of his complexes and shame.

He knew that no matter how perfect a professional he was, it was his appearance that made the first impression.

He preferred them to fear him rather than pity him.

In the courtroom he still struggled to be taken seriously so much so that his cold, calculating, ruthless nature began to frighten some – his judgement and questioning was harsh and lacking in compassion.

He knew exactly what he wanted and strove to get it.

His superiors quickly appreciated how skilful a lawyer he was and his ability to bring cases to an end and push whoever he needed to, hence he quickly moved to the National Prosecutor's Office, where more responsibilities and more money awaited him, which he could spend on Daeron's rehabilitation.

As he sat over the files he thought hard about what his sister had told him and decided that he would install CCTV in the house and then hire someone on a trial basis to see if it made sense.

He put up an anonymous job ad not wanting anyone to recognise him, described briefly his broad expectations and his rate per hour.

It turned out that dozens of people responded to his ad, just as he suspected attracted by the sum he had quoted, but he didn't know how he was supposed to sort them to choose the ones that seemed best to him. He began to read their answers, figuring that already from them he could deduce what types of personalities they were.

I am interested. My phone number is below.

Reject, he thought, clicking the red button informing the message sender that his offer was not accepted, and began to scroll further.

I am a carer with 10 years of experience. I have already cared for 14-year-old Mike with cerebral palsy, Adam with….

Reject, he clicked again.

He had no intention of making his home a second centre for the disabled.

He felt frustration and rage when he found that most of the messages were similar and just as empty in their tone, nothing convinced him about these people.

He knew Daeron wouldn't want to stay with them, and neither would he.

He stopped at one of the messages that looked completely different and blinked.

Good morning! I saw your ad and thought I would speak up. I'm a student, I'm studying costume design at the Faculty of Fine Arts. I'm looking for a casual job and I really enjoy working with children, I teach dressmaking as part of the teaching section of my university classes. I think that helping your brother with his studies at primary school level would be no problem for me at all, and I would also be happy to come up with different extra-curricular activities with him. Even if you decide not to hire me, I would like to sew your brother a costume of his favourite super hero, without any payment of course. You would just have to give me his measurements. I don't think anything makes kids his age happier!!! My warmest regards and I am sending my email below.

He looked at her message not too sure how he felt, at the same time being impressed, on the other hand feeling the seed of uncertainty and extreme caution characteristic of him when it came to his approach to newly met people.

What if this was a psychological tactic to make him believe her to be innocent and unselfish? To make him subconsciously choose her because she was the only one offering him something for free? If it was just her free promotion?

He chose two people reluctantly, but kept coming back to her message, trying to imagine her, seeing some crazy painting student looking like a hippie.

Maybe this was just what he needed? He thought with regret and sighed heavily, opening a new window in his inbox, writing her a short, brief email to appear at their house in a few days' time.

He was going to interrogate her.

The young man before her immediately made him uneasy – he had the impression that he smelled weed from him even though he had taken a shower, so he must have been smoking like crazy, and he had no intention of letting anyone who might encourage him to use any stimulants look after his brother.

The other girl was very frightened – his questions clearly startled her and made her uncomfortable, it frustrated him that she was barely able to make a sound. He thought she had something to hide, that people who have a clear conscience don't behave this way.

He thought with resignation that all he had left was a mad artist.

He sighed heavily as he heard the bell ring suggesting that someone was standing outside the gate. He walked over to the intercom and opened it, seeing in the small monitor a petite girl with dark, slightly wavy hair tied up in a ponytail.

He thought in disbelief that she was dressed for a job interview in a white turtleneck, dungarees and trainers, a fabric floral back on her back.

What the fuck, he thought, opening her door with a cold, indifferent expression on his face.

"Good afternoon." She said softly, a wide smile on her face. Before she walked in she wiped her shoes on the doormat, which pleased him. When she came inside she wanted to take off her trainers – he looked at her surprised, thinking she must be crazy.

"No, you don't have to. You can stay in your shoes." He said lowly, pointing towards the armchair, indicating to her with his hand the seat on the couch next to him.

She sat down in the seat he showed her, looking boldly straight into his eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

She was clearly a tad nervous after all, he thought, musing for a moment that she had incredibly long, dark eyelashes.

"Do you have experience in working with children?" He asked immediately; she blinked and corrected herself in her seat, as if prepared for the question.

"Only in terms of working with them in sewing workshops." She answered simply, without any further explanation, which pleased him.

She was letting him draw his own conclusions, rather than imposing them on him so as to present herself in the most favourable light.

"My brother has mobility problems. How do you imagine helping him, for example, if he needs to go to the bathroom?"

"I think he's old enough that he can tell me himself what he'll need help with and what he won't, and what he'll feel comfortable for me to help him with and when he'll want me to leave." She said without thinking, shrugging her shoulders as if it was obvious. He squinted, intrigued that she was allowing herself to say unthoughtful things in front of him, as if she wasn't afraid of the consequences they might bring.

"And your studies? How will you have so much time to come here?"

"From what I understand, I would be expected to turn up on Tuesdays and Thursdays from eight in the morning until sixteen. I have practice classes then, the costumes I'm sewing I can bring with me and finish them while he's eating or watching something, maybe he'll even like it and want to practice with me?"

"What will you do if I don't hire you?" He asked dryly and she looked at him surprised, a light smile on her face indicating that his words didn't worry her.

"Then I will continue to work in the café. But my words about the superhero costume stand. Even if I can't work for you, sir, I would like to meet him and give him something. Children can be so brave." She said softly with sincere, bright joy and some kind of pride, as if Daeron was her brother and not his, something in her innocence, something in her attitude endeared him.

He could smell a lie a mile away, she wouldn't be able to pretend so well even if she were an actress.

These reactions were natural, she was saying exactly what she was thinking about.

"I will contact you once I have made my decision." He said indifferently, getting up from his seat and pointing with his hand towards the exit, suggesting that their conversation was over.

She stood up and smiled, undaunted by his behaviour or the length of their conversation. Both of them flinched when Daeron appeared in the living room, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair with a light flick of his hand.

"Good afternoon. Who is this lady?" His younger brother asked him, obvious curiosity on his face. He swallowed loudly and glanced at her – she answered nothing but waved at him vigorously, Daeron smiled shyly and waved her back, embarrassed.

"No one. I needed to talk to her." He replied, opening the door for her. She said a polite goodbye to him and his brother, waving at him once more, Daeron waved her back again, looking at him with questioning eyes as he closed it.

"I like her. She seems fun."

With no other choice, he decided he would give her a chance.

The first day she was to be left alone with Daeron he was all nerves despite the fact that his little brother hadn't seemed this excited to him in many years. He told him about his toys and the cartoons he was going to show her.

"First the lessons. Then two hours to play and free time." He replied dryly, tense, glancing at his watch, thinking with rage that she only had fifteen minutes left, that she was sure to be late or not come and leave him in the lurch when he had already cancelled his presence at the centre's classes.

They both flinched when they heard the bell ring; Daeron said, moving briskly forward in his wheelchair that he wanted to open for her and indeed, after a moment the girl he had hired appeared on the doorstep of their house, smiling and content – her cheeks flushed again, her dark hair loose, pleasantly framing her bright face, on her body only a black top and tracksuit shorts as it was a sunny, warm spring morning.

"Good morning, Daeron, nice to meet you!" She said with fondness and satisfaction in her voice, extending her hand in front of her, which his brother shook confidently. Daeron moved ahead of her, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Come, I'll show you my room. I'll explain everything to you." He said, rolling his wheelchair up to the door, which was located on the ground floor of their house so that he could move around easily. The girl nodded, pulling her trainers off her feet, saying that she will come to him in a minute.

He took the opportunity to walk up to her, towering over her, and she threw him a quick surprised look.

He thought her eyes seemed even bigger than before, he wasn't sure if they were blue or green, both colours blending into one.

"You are to take care of him. I want you to go through all the material that was prepared for today. Only two hours of free time, no more. Behave responsibly and only call if it's really urgent or if something happens to him." He said matter-of-factly, and she swallowed quietly, nodding quickly, clearly horrified by how close he stood and how cold his voice was.

Good, he thought.

He wanted her to be afraid of the consequences of her actions.

He sat in the office all day terrified, stressed and unsure, trying to focus on the file in front of him, while involuntarily still glancing at his phone, checking to see if she might have called him.

Was everything okay? What if something had happened but she was afraid to call him? Maybe he should go home and test her, see what was going on?

He thought he would go mad if he didn't, so he left work an hour early – Alys threw something at him as he walked past her, probably something about a meeting or an evening out together, but he didn't answer her, heading for the stairs and the underground car park.

He drove forward, trying to calm himself down, thinking about how oversensitive he was, that surely everything was fine.

He pulled up in front of their house hearing music in the distance, wondering if any of the neighbours were having a party outside at this hour.

However, as he pressed the key to the gate and it slowly swung open he saw in disbelief the girl he had hired riding with lightness and grace on roller skates in his driveway to the tune of the Scissor Sisters song Don't Feel Like Dancin. Daeron laughed out loud, spinning beside her in his wheelchair, both of them wearing elbow and knee pads, in addition to his little brother wearing a bike helmet on his head.

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He got out of the car, furiously slamming the door, his brother wheeled up to him briskly, his companion spinning slowly around them on roller skates – she raised her eyebrows with a smile, seeing the look on his face and waved at him.

"Look how well I dance, brother!" Exclaimed Daeron, spinning the wheels of his wheelchair around his own axis again.

He, however, instead of looking at him grabbed aggressively the arm of his carer who was doing another spin – she nearly fell over because of his tug and caught him abruptly by his jacket in an attempt to catch her balance.

"Ah!"

"What the fuck are you doing? Is this what I pay you for?" He growled and shook her hard. She stared at him with wide-open eyes, her lips slightly parted in accelerated breathing from fear, her face red from exertion, strands of her hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Let me go, sir. I will not speak to you like this." She said warningly, her brow furrowed. He pressed his lips together noticing that something had changed in her gaze, suddenly confident and angry, ready to fight if necessary.

He felt that look in his trousers, he'd never had the urge to slap a woman's ass as hard as hers before.

He glanced at his brother, who was looking at him in horror, only realising after a moment that the song had long since ended and there was a tense, awkward silence around them.

He let go of her arm, seeing with satisfaction that he had left a bruise on her skin in the shape of his fingers – she massaged at the spot, furrowing her brow.

"You're fired. You're irresponsible. Good thing I came back earlier." He said with mockery and fury, walking over to his brother, unbuckling the helmet he wore on his head. Daeron burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

"I don't want to. I don't want to, I don't want to go back there, I want to stay with her. It's my fault, I told her I wanted to dance, please, please, please, I want her to stay, I don't want to go back there." He babbled, running his hands over his shoulders in some helpless, childish pleading gesture from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her gaze fixed on his little brother, sad and resigned – she was leaning over, untying the laces of the roller skates that had once belonged to his sister.

"Something could have happened to you. You could have fallen over and hit your head on the ground." He replied coldly, kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his knee pads.

"But I had a helmet on my head. After all, normal boys fall off bikes and stairs and they're fine! Nothing would have happened if I'd bruised myself a bit, I'm not made of glass!" He burst out suddenly with a fury he had never seen in him before, burying his little face in his hands, all red from tears and despair.

"I won't go back there, I won't go there tomorrow, if she doesn't stay, never, never again, I'd rather kill myself!" He whined out loud, falling into another attack of hysteria in recent months – he had trouble catching his breath, his lungs were wheezing all over. He took his face in his hands, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.

God, why?

"Remember what I told you?" She asked walking up to his brother in just her socks, kneeling beside him, grasping his hand. Daeron immediately fell silent, looking at her with wide eyes.

"That boy who calls you Quasimodo is just mean. You are my Phoebus, you have his beautiful hair, humour and valour. I'll sew us costumes and we'll go to the carnival ball together. His jaw will drop when he sees that you came with your Esmeralda. What do you say?" She asked softly, and he looked at her in disbelief, wondering if that was the reason his little brother didn't want to go there.

That boy who calls you Quasimodo.

He felt a twitch in his throat and swallowed loudly, his brother nodding quickly, drawing in air loudly, his eyes full of hope.

"Promise?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she smiled broadly, sincerely, squeezing his small hand.

"Promise."

They entered their house as his brother calmed down; he told Daeron to go to his room and leave them alone, which his brother eventually did with great reluctance, crying for a while longer, not wanting to say goodbye to her.

As soon as he heard the door close behind him at the end of the corridor he slipped his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers, took out a few banknotes and threw them on the table in front of her in a careless gesture.

"Get the fuck out of my house." He said coldly, looking her straight in the eye. He saw her lower lip twitch, the pain of humiliation in her gaze, her eyebrows arched in disbelief that such words had left his mouth.

He wasn't paying her to make a circus of herself dancing like some fucking Esmeralda, exposing his brother to danger and injury.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and trembled with rage as she took the money and tossed it in his direction, the banknotes flying scattered around his feet.

"You could dress up as Frollo for the carnival ball, sir. It would suit you." She said drily, turning away tensely – he moved behind her, feeling anger buzzing strongly in his veins at her words.

He grabbed her by the neck with an aggressive flick of his hand and slammed her back against the wall, her voice stuck in her throat in horror, her big, bright eyes open wide in disbelief.

He took a step closer to her, feeling her warm body quiver all over in his grasp, digging his fingertips deeper into her skin, finding with delight that she was obscenely soft.

"Do you have anything else to say?" He asked in a low whisper filled with threat – she shook her head quickly clearly feeling the situation was out of her control, obviously fearing if he was really going to do something to her.

"No, are you sure? I'm listening to you. Tell me something else interesting about me." He said softly, encouragingly, moving even closer to her, the tips of their noses almost touching.

He could finally get a good look at her and he found curiously that he still couldn't tell what colour her eyes were, now slightly reddened from tears of fear.

She shook her head quickly, not making a sound; all he could hear was their quickened, raspy breaths, her hand touched his wrist as if she wanted to make sure he didn't strangle her.

He was somehow delighted by how delicate, long and slender her fingers were, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his trousers at the thought.

"Look at you. So silly. Because you're a silly little girl, aren't you? You would benefit from someone teaching you a lesson. No? Then apologise and I'll let you go and pretend I never met you." He said calmly, her whole body quivering with terror.

"Never." She said quietly, and he felt involuntarily that his lips curved in a dangerous, satisfied grin, his fingers clenching tighter around her neck.

"You're asking for trouble, Esmeralda." He muttered lowly, her nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

"I will report what you are doing to the police." She said dryly and he smiled even wider, feeling her tremble all over as he leaned over her ear, his nose sinking into her soft, flower-scented hair – he closed his eyes and savoured the experience for a moment before whispering something she froze from.

"I am a prosecutor −"

Her hand clenched tighter on his wrist, a moan of despair escaping her lips, as if what he had said had really shocked her, as if she was only now realising what she had gotten herself into.

"− and I've never lost a case yet." He whispered in her ear, sliding his face lower, to her jaw and then to her neck, pressing his full lips to her skin, leaving wet, hot marks on it. He heard her draw in a loud breath.

"− w-what are you doing, sir? − no −" She whimpered, he felt her lift her arms up in a defensive gesture, trying to pull away from him, but he pressed her against the wall with his body, letting go of her neck, his erection throbbing hard in his trousers, pressing again and again against her stomach.

She felt it, a terrified cry escaped her lips as his lips pressed tightly against her neck – he began to suck painfully hard on her skin, wanting to leave her a crimson reminder of himself.

"− how did you put it? − who do I remind you of? −" He asked tauntingly, running his rough tongue over her red skin, feeling the veins pulsing rapidly under her soft, warm skin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry − please, please let me go −" She mumbled out in despair on the verge of crying, her voice trembling all over in terror, her breathing raspy and uneven, her small hands clenched on the material of his black turtleneck that he wore under his jacket.

He gasped at her words, sliding his mouth lower, repeating the same process, rubbing against her with his hips – his cock was all swollen and hard, pulsing with pleasure, his hands roaming down her back, sliding at last to her buttocks where they clenched.

"− look at you − so you can be polite after all, hm? −" He asked softly, lowering the material of her tracksuit shorts a little, his large hand grasping her plump, firm buttocks and slapping it hard – she clamped her lips together, trying to hold back the whimper that squeezed its way down her throat.

"− that's what I thought − turn around and let's get this over with −" He murmured, soothingly massaging the place that was now pulsing from his slap, grinning as she did so wordlessly, tears of helplessness and fear on her cheeks.

"− please −" She muttered and he sighed softly, sliding the material of her shorts and underwear down, revealing what was underneath – she shuddered and wept quietly as the tips of his fingers ran over her swollen folds, focusing their pressure on her sweet spot hidden between them, digging into her fleshy skin in circular, calm motions.

"− shhh − this way it will be easier for both of us −" He explained in a soft tone of voice, as if he was telling her something obvious, as if it would benefit her in the future and teach her something.

He heard her shy moan full of fear, then another, a tad louder as his fingers sank more firmly into her skin. He licked his lips at the sight of the wetness that began to leak slowly from inside her and slapped his hand with a short, rough movement into the space between her thighs.

"− quiet −" He ordered, and she pressed her lips together, stifling whatever wanted to come out of them. Daeron was far away, locked in his room, but he still preferred him not to hear anything, and he didn't have the time or desire to take her upstairs to his bedroom.

This situation, her bent figure and her lovely buttocks pushed up towards him, suited him completely.

"− good girl − see? − it's not that hard −" He murmured pleased with how obedient she was despite the fear and terror from which her whole body was twitching. The confident movements of his fingers were accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her cheek pressed against the cold wall where her hands were helplessly trying to find support in this position, her eyes closed as if she just wanted to wait it out.

She opened them when she heard the sound of his zipper being opened – her lips pressed together with difficulty as he guided the fat, swollen head of his throbbing cock against her opening, leaning with his free hand against the wall just above her head, trying to force it between her tight folds with the motion of his hips.

"− wider − that's it, there you go −" He exhaled as she opened her thighs a little more and he spread her wide on his cock, feeling her muscles gave him a wonderful squeeze – he sighed loudly, surprised at how pleasurable the sensation was.

"− fuck −" He hissed out, clamping his hands on her buttocks, spreading them like a ripe fruit; she squirmed in discomfort as he forced her to take him deeper inside her, filling her so much that he felt like he was going to rip her skin apart.

"− barely fits −" He scoffed, moving his hips back and forth with a splat of her moisture dripping down her thighs – he heard her begin to pant along with him as he deliberately rubbed against her lower wall just above her very entrance, teasing the spot inside her from which her whole body was quivering.

"− here? − do you want me to fuck you here, little one? −" He gasped as he stretched her skin enough to fit all of him inside her, rooting into her again and again with increasingly brutal thrusts of his hips, digging his fingertips into her buttocks, looking at the spot where their bodies joined, at her muscles clenching against him greedily in panic, sucking him inside.

"− please −" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips parted in disbelief at how pleasurable and terrifying the experience was. He sank his hand into her soft, dark hair and tilted her head back, burying his nose in the hot skin of her cheek, speeding up, stretching her weeping folds with a loud, lewd slaps of his thighs against her buttocks.

"− use full sentences −" He commanded, his other hand from her hip slid down between her thighs – she squirmed helplessly as his fingers sank again into her fleshy skin, sticky from her moisture, teasing her clit with circular, slow motions.

"− here − fuck me here, sir −" She mumbled with difficulty in a voice trembling with exertion, her cheeks all red, the beautiful curls of her dark hair clinging to her sweaty face – he felt with satisfaction that her hips began to respond to his eager thrusts.

"− good girl − that's my good girl −" He breathed out with a quiet groan of pleasure, seeing and feeling her walls squeeze his fat cock at his praise – he licked his lips thinking that Alys had never responded to him the way she did, so frightened and aroused at the same time, relying only on his mercy, his goodwill.

"− you understand that this is necessary, don't you? − that you need to be taught a lesson −" He muttered, feeling that he was losing his temper, thrusting into her so fast that he was barely slipping out of her, slamming into her again and again, his cock throbbing with desire, signalling to him that his peak was coming, her wonderful scent filling his lungs.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm sorry −" She mumbled out –he wasn't sure if she was saying what he wanted to hear or if she really believed it herself for a second, but she clamped her eyelids shut and spread her mouth wide, helpless, girlish, sweet moan of relief burst from her throat as she came, sucking and squeezing his cock, soaking it in her moisture. He sighed in relief when, after a few desperate, deep slaps he spilled inside her, feeling the wave of hot pleasure shake his body.

"− fuck − oh, God, little one −" He muttered, their bodies involuntarily moving for a moment longer, wanting to prolong this surprisingly shocking experience, both of them panting embarrassingly loudly, her body trembling all over – if his arm hadn't been holding her around the waist she would have fallen for sure, her legs completely numb.

He looked down at their joined bodies, his half-hard, throbbing manhood sinking into her again and again, all sticky from his semen and her wetness.

He swallowed loudly, sliding out of her slowly, realising now what he had actually done to her – he heard her quiet hiss of discomfort and sigh of relief, her face flushed from exertion and tears.

"− are you all right? −" He asked in a trembling voice, quickly zipping up his trousers, her shaking hands slipping her underwear and shorts back onto her buttocks.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled in embarrassment, horror and disbelief, not looking at him, in some automatic gesture reaching for her trainers, putting them quickly on her feet.

"Come back on Thursday as we agreed before." He muttered, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart and the panic rising inside him, a complete void in his mind.

What had he done?

"I can assure you that you will never see me again." She whispered in a trembling, broken voice, quickly put her backpack on her back and walked out, slamming the door, leaving him with complete silence, remorse and horror.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, hiding his face in his hands, and burst into tears like a small child.

How could he treat a strange, innocent girl like this?

What if she didn't take her pills, what if she got pregnant?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

What if she really does report it to the police?

I'll destroy her, he thought with a bitter certainty that, after a moment, turned again into terror, regret and shame.

He grabbed his phone quickly and dialled her number, wanting to beg her forgiveness, but she didn't answer. He sat down on the couch and drew in the air loudly, devastated, not recognising himself, realising what kind of man he was.

He laughed desperately, shaking his head, thinking with painful amusement how well she had judged him.

He didn't even have to pretend.

He was like Frollo.

_____

Author's note: Many of you may believe that Quasimodo is the best and most worthy of imitation character, not Phoebus, and this is true when it comes to the book, but I assume that if anything, Daeron at this age has only seen a Disney fairy tale, in which Phoebus is a handsome man with a noble heart. The whole idea of this scene, in which the heroine says that he will be her Phoebus and she will be his Esmeralda, is that Daeron wants to see himself not only as a person with a disability, but as someone handsome, a warrior that a woman could love one day. It's easy to understand how children's minds work and why his works this way, and his "Esmeralda" only wants to help him become the person he wants to be and encourages him not to give up on these dreams and this self-image.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96

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khrollos · 1 year

Text

ミღ stuck in the middle

description. the only thing better than one cock inside of you is ... well, two.

pairing. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru tags. smut (18+), threesome, oral (m receiving), degrading (reader is called slut *lovingly*), spanking, eiffel towering :3 w/c. 620+ just a little drabble >_<

no way in hell you're doing this. no fucking way. how you managed to end up with your thighs parted, knees digging into your best friend's mattress with your other best friend's cock staring at you right in the face is still a mystery to you.

then again, sometimes ignorance is a bliss, and you'd consider yourself exceptionally happy with anything as long as satoru sticks it in.

you're on all fours, gripping the white linen sheets as the blond lines up his fat tip with your dripping cunt. suguru's own bulbous head is drifting in front of you until he nudges it past your lips and into your opened mouth.

"atta girl ..." suguru coos when you suck him right in. "she looks so pretty, huh satoru?" he calls out to his friend who is staring down at where his cock slides between your slick folds.

"perfect fuckin' pussy," he breaths out, and fuck, he can quite literally see your pussy clenching around nothing as you ache for something, anything.

"s-satoru," you whine when suguru pulls out your mouth to give you a second to breathe before thrusting back in. his cock hits the back of your throat with such force that your body lurches backward, ass rutting against satoru's pelvis.

"aw," suguru murmurs condescendingly, and the way your cheeks burn is nothing compared to the way your cunt pleads for satoru's cock. "is our little slut gettin' needy?"

satoru chuckles darkly, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head when his hand cracks down on your ass, moaning around suguru's lenght. "dirty girl ... you liked that, huh?"

"gonna give our cute girl what she wants?" suguru eggs his friend on, placing one hand on the crown of your head to force you down his length even further.

you can practically hear the smirk on his lips when satoru groans, sinking his thick length into in one go, his harsh thrust in sync with suguru's so your body is being pushed in opposite directions at the same time.

your whole damn body is successfully stuffed, and it's a sparing thought that you might not be able to move a single muscle after they're done with you. satoru has just started to move, pulling his dick out halfway before slamming back into you with equal force, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

"didn't know you had it in you ... " suguru says as he continues to snap his cock through your swollen lips. "taking two cocks at once ..."

"'course she can do it," satoruo grunts out, digging his hands into your flesh as he starts to pull your hips into his with every thrust, using you like a poor little rag doll. "she's our slut remember?"

suguru chuckles deep and low, and the sound is so sexy that for a second, you forge that his cock is shoved down your throat. "you likin' this?" he asks innocently, looking down at you. "oh wait, forgot you can't speak," he says with a laugh, and you should feel humiliated but you don't.

you should feel embarrassed—having two cocks ram into you from both sides. you should feel some sort of shame for the way drool and precum dribbles down your chin, for the way that your pussy is letting out such filthy fucking noises that you can hear it squelching over the ringing in your ears.

you should feel humiliated but of course ... you don't. after all, who would turn down the offer to get absolutely fucked by their two hot best friends? your limbs are about to give out, but you don't care—not with the white hot orgasm that might just be the best of your life bubbling up in your belly.

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inkedells · 1 year

Note

reader using dbf!joel's hand while they go for a ride in his pick-up truck. delicious dirty talk please. this is a need not a want!! ilysm.

A/N: once again, a short dbf drabble!! i simply cannot stay away.

tags: humiliation, comeplay, voyeurism, use of good girl, slight degradation, hand stuff (in the car), hints of shy!reader

mdni! | requests open but responses not guaranteed.

“There’s nothing under that skirt, just like I asked, right baby?”

Joel’s left hand clenched the top of the steering wheel as his other hand crawled up your bare thigh. You whined high in your throat, attempting to shift your hips down the seat so you could have his hand exactly where you wanted it. But once Joel caught wind of what you were doing, he swiftly swatted your inner thigh, pulling a squeak out of you.

You swallowed, licking your lips as you remembered he'd asked you something. “Y-Yes, Joel.”

He smirked. “Mm, good girl. I just got one last request.”

You nodded.

“I’m a responsible person,” Joel teased, “And distracted driving? That’s the opposite of what a responsible person does. So you’re gonna use my hand, grind on it, fuck yourself with it—whatever it takes for you to cum, understand? ‘Cause baby, I’m not doing a fucking thing.”

And that. Well that was bullshit, and both of you knew that incredibly well, considering that responsible people don’t typically fuck their best friend’s daughter, nor do they accept roadhead from them on numerous occasions.

Joel just wanted to see you making a mess all over his hand, and you knew it. Wanted shy, sweet little you, to rub your pussy on his hand like a dirty, dirty girl. He wanted to watch your cum pool on his passenger seat, make you scoop it up with your fingers and eat it, let you ruin your skirt while you blush a deep red from the peering eyes you have no way to hide from at every red light. Curious people wondering why your jaw is slack and your eyes are screwed shut, the way those same curious people realize what's happening to you and only stare harder.

And perhaps one of his favorite things to watch you react to: the filthy curses he mutters under his breath, different versions of the same compliments. Things like:

“So fuckin’ wet, making such a mess.”

“Yeah, that’s it baby girl, grind on these knuckles, just like that,”

And what would become his new personal favorite thing he's ever said to you, “Wonder what your daddy would think of you cummin’ all over my fingers in my pick-up truck. Should send you back to him with that cum-stained skirt, let him see how much his little girl loves getting ruined by his best friend.”

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chenfleur · 1 year

Text

open the gates, let me in

summary. jeno always seems willing to do anything for you, and it takes a lot of inner nagging for him to finally realize why.

pairing. jeno x y/n ft donghyuck, jaemin

genre. fluff, college au, best friends to lovers

disclaimers. swearing, denial resonates so deeply with me its humiliating

word count. 4.0k

released. 02.05.23

author's note. feedback is appreciated! BAEKHYUN IS BACK FROM WAR 🙏🏻 WE CHEERED

masterlist

For what feels like the nth time this hour, a certain honey-skinned boy shamelessly rolls his eyes at one of his best friends. That title, however, is in serious danger of being revoked if he has to spend one more agonizing second in this store.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't ditch your ass right now," Donghyuck jeers. His habit of poking his cheek with his tongue shines through as impatience radiates off of his body.

Jeno ignores his complaining, eyes diligently scanning the rows of colourful fragrance bottles.

He's quite overwhelmed. The labels, brands, scents, and undertones—they all mean nothing to him. The only thing he's somewhat familiar with is the brand of the cologne he takes a liking to, but the strong woods and smokes of the men's cologne selection is a distinct opposite of what he’s looking for.

It leaves him to stand cluelessly among the shelves of white flowers and citruses and berries, trying to pick out the combination he thinks you'd like the most.

"Where would you even go? I drove," Jeno deadpans.

He gently picks up a translucent, pale red bottle. Blood orange and peony.

Popping off the cap, he spritzes a tiny bit on his inner wrist and brings it up close to his nose. The scent is like a punch in the face, leaving him reclining back with a furrowed brow.

Too strong.

"We're going to be late to Jaemin's if you don't hurry the fuck up," Donghyuck says, burning holes through Jeno's skull before letting out a deep sigh.

"Can you just pick one so we can go? We look like fucking idiots here."

Jeno only hums, cracking a small smile.

He couldn't chide him for being wrong—the two of them look very out of place. Their sharp silver jewelry, inked skin, and dazed boyish smiles contrast against the dainty bottles standing atop the soft pink shelves of the women's fragrance section like black on white.

"Firstly," Jeno begins, voice riddled with amusement. "You don't give a fuck about punctuality-"

"Oh look at you, going off with your big words."

Jeno spins around. "Hyuck, you're drinking a matcha frappucino while looking like that."

He points at the green drink the boy was sipping on, the extra whipped cream he asked for contradicting his hard exterior.

Donghyuck scoffs. "Sorry I don't like to drink death in a cup," he drawls, sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

He breaks his glare on the black-haired boy as he sees two girls standing a distance away, his face doing a 180 as he notices them not-so-discreetly staring.

Smirking, Donghyuck confidently throws them a wink. He watches with pride as flattered giggles spill from their lips, before turning back to Jeno, who had picked up another bottle.

"Why are you even doing this?" Donghyuck asks out of genuine curiosity, though it's hidden underneath the guise of annoyance.

"Y/N asked me to."

Here’s some money. Get me something you think I'd like, yeah? you had said. Or something that you'd like. I'll still wear it, I don't care. I trust your judgment.

Donghyuck snorts. "I'm convinced you'd do anything for Y/N," he mutters.

It's an offhand comment, yet it makes the black-haired boy put his tongue between his teeth as a weird, sprawling feeling erupts in his chest.

The thought of why he seemed willing to do anything for you had never occurred to him. Not because the thought had never shown up to the gates of his consciousness—Jeno was uncomfortably familiar with the strange feeling in his stomach when you were around—but because he never let it in.

He doesn't dare to let it in, even going as far as telling it to leave and never return each time it knocks—because if he did, he would spend hours in this perfume section, legs going numb from standing as it invaded and overtook his brain, preventing him from getting anything done.

His eyes land on one last bottle. It's a clear one, with a clean, minimalistic label.

Lazy Sunday Morning. Maison Margiela.

Jeno repeats the action he's done with multiple bottles by now; spritzing the fragrance onto a new, untouched area of his inner arm and bringing it up to smell.

It's soft, it's floral, it's feminine. It infiltrates his senses in the way fresh, cotton bed sheets would. The soft sun after the rain.

It's how you look when he comes over to your apartment unannounced on a random weekend morning: wearing an oversized white shirt and a pair of high-waisted sports shorts.

It's the strawberry lip gloss that always stains your lips. It's your Hello Kitty pillowcase that you wash way more often than Jeno washes his, for which you constantly nag him for being unhygienic.

It's your flushed, red face at parties, your preference for tea over coffee—your smaller, softer hand grabbing his calloused one when he gets nervous.

Jeno thinks it's you, and he hopes you think it's you too.

He slowly turns around to Donghyuck, who's fidgeting with the tattered sleeve of his leather jacket.

"Smell this," he prompts, snapping the brown-haired boy out of his daze.

Donghyuck tugs at Jeno's arm, bringing it up to his face and taking a quick whiff before letting it fall. "Smells nice. I'm sure Y/N will like it. Now let's go," he presses, already taking off towards the exit.

Jeno only shakes his head, gaze falling on the bottle he held in his ring-clad fingers. He thinks it would look nice on your vanity, next to all your other bottles of products.

He doesn't know what they do, but they make you, you.

Donghyuck, whose brown strands are now dyed a refreshing purple, throws his head back howling with laughter as he sees you and Jeno approach the food court table.

He receives several displeased stares from nearby people, but he doesn't seem to care in the slightest, only being able to focus on what Jeno is wearing.

"Oh my fucking god, Jeno," he wails incoherently, pointing at his friend's pants while clutching his stomach. "What- what are those?"

Your choice to wear a pair of light-washed, ripped skinny jeans to come to the mall turned out to be a massive mistake. You're bitter towards the person who first said "beauty is pain" because of how miserably right they are; whose idea was it to make girls' pants so uncomfortable?

The walk across the parking lot to the entrance was enough for your legs to start screaming for relief, resulting in you pleading with Jeno to switch with you.

Jeno drops down into the empty seat next to Jaemin, letting out a deep sigh. He rubs at his temples as Donghyuck's high-pitched, maniacal laughter erratically rings throughout the air.

This is exactly why he was adamant about declining your request; Lee Donghyuck is an entity of pure evil, and Jeno felt the humiliation creeping up on him from behind like a tiger ready to pounce.

But as he always seems to do, he relented.

Now, his sweatpants sit comfortably on your hips, bunching up at your ankles while he wears your jeans, the pant ends stopping halfway up his calves.

"She was chafing," he mutters, referring to you.

Donghyuck laughs loudly and unapologetically, reaching down to poke at Jeno's bare knee through the large rips of the jeans. His actions result in him getting a hard slap on the arm, eliciting a pained "ow!" from him.

You give Jeno a sweet smile, slipping him another whispered apology before feeling a gentle tug at your wrist.

Renjun begins to drag you away from the table, mumbling something along the lines of "new premium watercolour set" and "20% off". Jumping up from his seat, Donghyuck follows suit with a devilish smile etched on his face, immediately asking the shorter boy to buy him a vinyl he had his eye on from earlier.

Jaemin watches as the three of you fade into the crowd of customers, leaving only him and Jeno at the table. As soon as you disappear from his sight, he whips around with anticipation. "So?"

A shaky blink. "So..?"

"So? Have you thought about what I said?"

Jeno doesn't respond as he stills, his lips pursed carefully.

Of course he had thought about what Jaemin said.

He tried his goddamn hardest not to, just like he has with every other possible reasoning behind his feelings that wandered into scary, uncharted territory—but how could he not? It wasn't something that he could just forget, like remembering to wash his socks or buying milk.

A week ago, Na Jaemin had brought upon him a revelation that was far too casually dropped at one of the group's regular get-togethers. It was like a silent bomb, and it had been doing no less than eating at him alive.

He wants to deny it so badly. In fact, that's exactly what he's been doing—denying its possibility of being true, denying its existence at all.

If it was going to slip through the cracks of the iron gates, Jeno was going to make sure it felt as unwelcome as possible.

And that's exactly what he does.

"I have," he begins meekly.

Upon hearing these words, Jaemin's lips stretch into a wide smile. "And?"

"...and I don't think you're right."

The lights in the younger's eyes flicker out just as quickly as they turned on. He doesn't even bother to hide his disappointment, giving his best friend a deadpan stare. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

He was expecting this reaction from Jaemin, but he couldn't let it get to him. Not when he couldn't let the narrative Jaemin was pressing so adamantly a week ago be true.

A loud sigh rips through the air. "Jeno, why are you so in denial?"

"I'm not in denial. It's not true."

Jaemin leans forward, looking into his best friend's eyes. He could tell there was a deep, buried sense of longing behind those dark irises.

"Lee Jeno," he begins slowly.

"I have known you nearly my entire life. I have been by your side since we were puny, disgusting first graders, and I have never seen you be so caring towards someone."

Jaemin has always doted on you.

He reminds you of a worrying mother; a fairy who is always there to remind you to dress warmly and take your vitamins. When you had a fever, Jeno had knocked on the door of your apartment only to be let in by Jaemin, who had been in your kitchen making his mother's soup recipe for you.

Donghyuck is the playful, sarcastic brother you never had.

He's the one who always encourages you to down another shot, to get you to do crazy things like jumping off the roof into a pool. But he's warm when he needs to be; Jeno had walked in one night through the door of his and Donghyuck's shared apartment to find you dumping your emotions onto the honey-skinned boy's shirt as he whispered words of consolation.

Renjun indulges your passionate side.

You share so much in common with him and you value his opinion like a sacred script. He's your 3AM therapist for your woes, he's your debate opponent for any topic—he's the one who encouraged you to chase after your dreams when you had trouble deciding on whether to choose what your parents wanted for you, or what you wanted for yourself.

Jeno thinks he's just Lee Jeno to you.

The captain of the basketball team you met back in junior year of high school, who’s an architecture major at the same university you go to. Your best friend, but only if you thought so.

When it's about the others, Jeno seems to see everything—how they care for you, in what ways they’re integrated into your life—he doesn’t seem to notice how much he cares for you.

He doesn't think about how sometimes, he miraculously finds himself entering your apartment at the crack of dawn to remind you to bring an assignment that's due that day. And when you knock your hand against his, silenting asking for him to hold it, he’ll reluctantly put his cold, mysterious image aside to gently slip his hand into yours.

There was one time when you asked to go stargazing in the dead of the night. Despite the subzero weather outside, not an ounce of regret coursed through his body when he agreed to go with you.

He couldn’t feel his fingers when he was out there, but it didn’t feel like it mattered when he saw you pointing at constellations with a smile of pure euphoria painted on your features.

He doesn’t notice how you notice that he cares.

The way your eyes lit up when he quietly entered your room with medicine and a hot water bottle went unseen by him. You never told him that Renjun was only half of the reason why you chose to pursue art, and that seeing him choose architecture over the path his own parents wanted for him pushed you over the edge.

He seems to remember you curled up to Donghyuck's side, but not how as soon as you saw him walk through the doorway, you gently peeled yourself up from the couch, out of Donghyuck's hold to throw yourself onto him, because you had come to their apartment looking for him. For his hold, for his comfort.

No, he doesn't notice these things because he's selectively blind when it comes to the possibility of there ever being a 'you and him', and it drives Jaemin nuts.

Jaemin laughs, dumbfounded.

"For fucks sake, Jeno," he exclaims, dragging his hands down his face. "You're literally wearing women's jeans right now."

He removes his hands from his face, staring deeply into his best friend's eyes in a last-ditch effort to get through to the stubborn boy.

"You're in love with her."

"I'm sorry."

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times those two words had left Jeno's lips.

The party downstairs blares in the background, though it’s muffled by the closed door. Jeno’s murmured apologies are the only sounds that fill the air, other than the squelches of water as you squeezed your shirt in the sink.

You turn your head around to look at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. He’s sitting on the edge of the acrylic bathtub, sliding his rings up and down his fingers with a distant look on his face.

"Stop apologizing. It's okay."

Despite graduating two years ago, Johnny Suh still parties like it’s his full-time job, and being in his second-floor bathroom makes the room feel like it’s a physical manifestation of his spirit.

There’s two lights above the bathroom mirror, though one of them had blown its fuse. It casts a dim, aquamarine light that reaches every corner of the small room, highlighting the slightly frayed shower curtains and dark crevices of the floor tiles. There’s a few shaving products and the remains of a half-smoked blunt strewn across the surface of the otherwise clean countertop.

The reason why you and Jeno are in the bathroom instead of downstairs isn’t one the boy’s proud of.

You didn’t run into Jeno until around halfway through the night. They say you haven’t had the real college experience if you haven’t gone to a Johnny Suh party, and the flocks of people that covered every part of the estate prove how much people value getting their tuition’s worth.

A light sheen of sweat is apparent on your forehead as you try your best to weave your way through the masses. You don’t even know where you’re going, and you could feel it growing stuffier as more people spilled into the halls.

It’s only until you suddenly feel a piercing cold sensation on your chest do you see something other than drunk college students pressed together.

You come face-to-face with Lee Jeno, who’s staring at you with big, round eyes and lips parted in sheer horror.

You glance down at your own body. The center of your chest is several shades darker, a large wet splotch prominently standing out against the beige fabric of your long-sleeved top.

Your eyes dart between your top and Jeno’s red solo cup that had several droplets of liquid dribbling down its side. Realizing what just happened, you can’t help but laugh.

“Why hello to you too, mister,” you say between giggles.

Jeno’s face is flushing redder by the second, and there’s a big bump on his head from the imaginary hammer that struck him for being so stupid.

A few seconds go by of just him staring at you before stutters spill from his lips.

“I- Oh my- oh my god,” he breathes out. “Oh my fucking god, Y/N, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay. I needed an excuse to get away from all the noise anyways,” you cut him off, reaching for his free hand.

“Come with me to the bathroom?”

The words flow out of your mouth like a smooth, running stream; casual, and far more relaxed than the jittery feeling in Jeno's stomach. He doesn’t resist in the slightest, the feeling of your touch sending a surge of electricity up his arm.

Finally looking up from the metal around his fingers, Jeno’s breath hitches.

His eyes trail down your figure with innocent intention. The thin straps of your ivory, silk camisole delicately sit on your collarbone, your black miniskirt hugging your waist.

He doesn’t realize he’s even staring, not when he’s mesmerized by the slope of your nose, or the outline of your cupid’s bow.

There’s something that the aquamarine glow is doing to you that makes his jaw go slack.

Usually, he’d be alert, keeping his thoughts in check—but the slight intoxication seeped through him, and he can feel himself growing careless.

Jeno's hand twitches. You're within arm's reach, he could reach for your waist and pull you right into him—but he doesn't, because that would ruin the scene.

This scene of you standing in front of the sink, twisting your shirt in your hands with a small crease in your brow. It's so domestic, so perfect—he can't help but wonder what it'd be like to see you like this every day—

—and then, he hears it.

There it is, the violent banging on the gates. It echoes through the halls from outside, persistent and maybe just a bit desperate. Or, was it actually his heart thumping against his chest?

Open up! it yelled. You would do anything for her. You're in love with her, idiot!

Had it been his heart all along?

"There we go," you give your top one final twist, grinning with satisfaction as the water drips down clear.

You turn the sink off and unravel the top from its scrunched-up form, flapping it a few times to prevent creases.

"That should do it. Okay, let's go back downstairs. Hyuck bet ten dollars I couldn't beat him in beer pong and I'm going to make him eat his wor-"

Your rambling is cut off as soon as you turn toward the boy on the edge of the tub. He's staring at you with misty eyes, and you can't stop yourself from taking a step closer.

"Jeno?" you call, leaning down to meet him at eye level.

Eyes twinkling with mirth, you lower yourself into a crouching position, and your hand finds its place on his knee. You let your fingers drum on the fabric of his black jeans, musing your wonder.

"You're drunk, aren't you? How much have you had to drink?"

The action is mindless, and Jeno knows it. The two of you often shared small, habitual touches—but this time, it's wholly different.

"I'm- I'm not drunk," he croaks out.

A light-hearted snicker. "Sure you aren't."

"I'm not."

"Then why is your face so red?"

"I'm just... thinking about something."'

An amused chuckle leaves your mouth before you muse your wonders, "You're drunk, Jen. But, would you care to share?"

Jeno feels himself unclicking the locks. "Okay," he huffs out nervously.

The iron gates swing slightly ajar.

"I'm thinking about how I would do anything for you."

A pause goes by. The sound of the music downstairs seems to have gotten even louder, to the point where Jeno can't hear his own breathing. He wonders if he's even still breathing as his gaze rests on you intensely, waiting for your reaction.

When your fingers stop drumming against his knee, Jeno's world stops.

"O-oh."

Your expression is indecipherable as his words sink in, eyes growing rounder and your lips part.

Your eyes dart around Jeno's face to see if you can locate a trace of playfulness, a hint that he wasn't thinking straight—and while his flushed, rosy cheeks are a telltale that he's a little intoxicated, his eyes are heavy with sincerity.

He's being serious, and it brings you to a loss for words.

"A-and? What did you conclude?" you manage to stutter out, peering up at him.

This is exactly what he was afraid of. Afraid of your disappointed expression, your lips ready to utter the inevitable words he wished he'd never have to hear.

He's not even sure what those words exactly are, because Lee Jeno feels like a fucking mess right now, but he'll know in a few seconds after you say them—

"I... I don't really know why..."

A lightbulb clicks in your head. You seem to realize Jeno's implications before he even does himself.

"Jeno?" you prompt, voice feather-soft.

The boy's eyes are screwed shut by now, unable to look you in the eyes. He's trying to lock the gates closed again, as they were for so long.

"Hmm?" he weakly hums.

"I love you."

Jeno's attempts are futile. The thought is victorious.

It pushes past his regret-driven efforts. It floods his head akin to a raging tsunami.

It's so loud. The music in the background is so loud.

You are so loud. Your eyes, your grip on his knee, your words—

—they're so loud.

She just said she loves me.

"I've loved you for so long. Do you love me too?" you whisper, hand subconsciously reaching for his.

It shocks Jeno how his voice doesn't fail him. "You love me?"

"I do."

"M-more than a friend?"

"Much more. I love you like I'll never have you, even if I always find myself in your arms," you say, letting out a dry chuckle as a small smile graces your face.

"Do you love me too?" you repeat.

The gates snap off their hinges from the sheer force, and the thought chants a victory song—

You're in love with her!

Jeno blinks.

I'm in love with her.

Jeno never seemed to mind, when it came to you. He never seemed to mind wearing your light blue skinny jeans for you, and he never seemed to mind looking out of place with his grungy demeanor inside of a delicate perfume section either. He never seemed to mind waking up at an ungodly hour for you, and he never seemed to mind holding you when the world was against you.

And as you look at him, your face glimmering underneath the dim, bathroom light—it clicks.

Jeno suddenly realizes why he'd be willing to do anything for you. He'd be willing to get you the moon and the stars if you asked, because he loves you.

And, because you deserve it. It's the least he could do for you for loving him.

Reaching out a wavering hand, Jeno gently pulls you up from your crouching position so the both of you could stand. Your gaze never leaves him, your previous question still hanging in the air.

The boy rests his hand delicately on your jaw. His eyes glaze over your face, taking in your beautiful features before landing on your lips with a shaky exhale.

"Do you love me too?" you ask for a third time, your irises shining with hope.

"Fuck," he breathes out. "I- I do. I love you, so much."

You don't even get the chance to beam at his confession before he closes the distance between the two of you, his soft lips against yours.

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