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luvyeni · 7 months

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❛CUPID AND HIS ANGEL❜ ( l. know )

💬nia's notes: i seen the shoot and got hella inspired.

p. cupid!leeknow x angel!reader w. 2.5k+

warnings? yandere themes, corruption kink, talks of blood, oral (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, poor knowledge of greek mythology ( like zesus should strike me down), leeknow is referred to as both lk and cupid.

— 𖦹 ( youre lee knows precious angel, and he'll be damned if he shoots his arrow into your hear for anyone but himself ) !

“she is a beauty, isn’t she?” lee know stared at the photo in front of him, ready to snap his bow and arrows in half. “she isn’t a goddess by any means, just a mere angel, but she’s special.” he knew who you were, he’d been watching you since you arrived here in olympus, he already claimed you as his. “you want me to use my arrows on a useless angel?”

he didn’t mean to be so harsh, but if this male angel found out he also had an eye out on you, he’d surely try and start a war over it – and lee know didn’t bother for another war, nor did he wish bloodshed, but he’d spill the angels blood all over olympus if it meant you’d be his alone – plus the angel would never win against lee know, he was a god of course, but that wouldn’t stop him, male angels are very prideful. “please, i’ll pay you a generous amount.” lee know smiled, tapping the table. “of course.” the angel put the sack of gold on the table, lee know scooped up the bag, putting it in his pocket. “good day to you.” he turned to walk away. “so you’ll do it?” he turned back facing the angel. “consider it already done, i’ll inform you when it will take place.” he smirked walking out of the establishment.

of course he wasn’t gonna do it, no way was he gonna let you be taken from him by some lowly angel, no you deserved more than that – you deserved to be treated like the goddess you really were, spoiled with many jewels and dresses, to eat the best foods… you deserved to be with him, he could give you all that and more.

of course, he already knew where you hung out, in the fields with the other angels, he’d often watch you picking flowers, your wings fluttering behind you, perfect for him. “hi my precious little angel.”

you turned around to face the voice, with a smile, it was your friend leeknow, you smiled running over to him. “hi cupid.” you teased, he smiled, patting your head. “i told you to call me leeknow.” you chuckled. “i know, but i like teasing you.” you were so cute, so unaware of the explicit things he thought about doing to you. “are you here to stay or are you gonna go make people fall in love today.” he shook his head, he only had one person he was gonna make fall in love today – and she was standing right in front of him. “no i’m just here to watch you today, make sure you’re being the good angel i know you are.” he took a flower from your pile. “(y/n), come!” your friend called for you. “go little angel, i’ll be here when you’re done.”

he sat down watching you run over to your friend who wanted to show you something in the grass, probably a animal or something – he didn’t mind, he had business to attend to. pulling out his trusty bow, along with a single love arrow, he waited for yours and your friend to be far enough so you’d be to look at him first, but you won’t see him shoot you, before aiming the arrow, making sure to wait for the exact moment – lord knows that if he shot your friend by accident he’d sure end up killing them, he didn’t want anyone else but you, and was willing to do anything, and he couldn’t have that if he has a stupid little angel floating around here actually thinking he’d love them, no all his love was for you.

once you were in the right place, he wasted no time, letting the arrow go, shoot right in the heart, right where it needed to be. he saw you stumble, meaning the arrow did hit you – making direct eye contact with him. he smiled, and just as he planned, you dropped the flowers, waving goodbye to your friend, running over to him. “you’re back my little angel.” you smiled, he seen the look in your eyes. “pretty little angel.” he held the flower he took from you, placing it behind your ear. “leeknow, i feel- shh, i know angel, let’s get you back to my castle okay?”

lee know was ecstatic, the magic from the arrow seemed to hit faster than anyone he ever shot before, you were all over him on the ride back, to the point he had to hold your wrist down to keep you from unbuckling his pants, “angel stop it.” he sighed as you pressed warm kisses to his neck. you pouted, whining. “but why, i just want to show you that i love you so much.” he smiled, this is exactly what you wanted. “yeah? you love me?” you nodded. “yup, so so much.” he chuckled. “and i love you too angel, but you have no clue what you’re doing, just wait a little while longer, and i’ll show you exactly how you can show me how much you love me.”

as soon as you touched the inside of your castle he was taking you to his chambers, not even caring to explain to the maids, close his door, leaving you both alone. you rushed to kiss him, he finally allowed you to, it was messy, due to your lack of knowledge of how to kiss someone or do anything in a sexual nature at in general. he pulled away grabbing both your cheeks. “calm down my little angel, you don’t even know what you’re doing.” he chuckled. “let me guide you, okay? i’ll give you anything you want, just submit to me.”

Your body finally calm down some, he smiled. “good girl, now undress for me.” you untied the string of your dress, that was tied around your neck, letting it fall, uncovering your boobs, the cold air hitting your nipples. “perfect, my perfect little angel.” he brought his hands up to your nipples, pinching them, you whimpered at the sensation. “sensitive baby.”

he sat down in the chair, patting his lap. “come here pretty.” you moved to where here was, standing in between his legs. “be my sweet little angel and get on your knees for me.” you obeyed, sinking down on your knees, looking up at him. “good little angel, listen so well for me.” he caressed your face, the lovesick look in your eyes making him smile. “gonna do whatever i ask you, be a good angel for me.” you nodded. “anything.”

he let your face go, sitting back to unbuckle his slacks, pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock slapping again his abdomen, his hissed at the cold air. “are you hurt?” your eyes filled with worry, he let out a dry laugh. “no angel, i’m fine.” he groaned, stroking his cock in front of your face. “you want to show me how much you love?, prove to cupid how much you love him?” you nodded. “i do.”

he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to your pink glossy lips. “open for me angel.” you slowly parted your lips, he slid his cock into your mouth, moaning as he guided you down his length. “there we go angel, keep going, don’t use your teeth.” you took as much as you could, until his tip hit the back of your throat. “pretty girl, my cock is too big for your little mouth.”

you shook your head, desperate to please him, you tried to take him further down, gagging around his length. “you really want to please me little angel, you took me all the way.” he threw his head back as you worked your mouth up and down, eventually getting the hang of it. “sh-shit you’re a natural angel.” the god was losing his mind, the way your mouth worked on his cock, he had to grip the chair to keep from grabbing your head, fucking up into your mouth – not wanting to frighten you during your first time, plus you both had all the time in the world, both of you being immortal, he had all the time in the world to fuck your face, teach you and corrupt you even more than he was about to.

“fuck angel, angel i’m about to cum.” he groaned. “wanna cum in your mouth okay? gonna fill your mouth with my cum.” you hummed, he grabbed the back of your head, pushing it down until your nose poked his pubic bone. “breath through your nose angel.” he groaned out, stilling your head. “ngh, fuck angel, i’m cumming!” his cock twitched before you felt his warm cum hit the back of your throat. “mhm shit, take all my cum love.” he cursed, his cum filling your mouth.

he finally released your head; you coughed, spit and cum wetting your lips as you caught your breath. “did i do well?” your voice was scratchy due to his previous assault, he smiled at your need to please him – even though he was the cause of it. “yeah angel, you did good.” he said grabbing your cheek, wiping the cum from your lips. “now it’s time for me to show you how much i love you now.”

he helped you up, guiding you to the bed. “lay down angel.” you complied, laying down, your wings spread behind you, your skin glowing, you were truly a beauty. “such a pretty creature.” he lifted the skirt of your dress up on your waist, your white panties on display. “so fucking pretty angel.” he kissed your navel. “spread your legs for me angel.”

he sat on his knees between your legs, the wet spot in the middle of your panties, proving your arousal. “look at the mess you made angel, you love me that much?” he rubbed you through your panties. “leeknow.” you whimpered, your eyes widened at the noise that so easily came out of your mouth. “it’s normal sweet angel, it’s just you showing how much you love me.” he moved your panties to the side, your cunt soaked with your juices. “look so sweet angel, gonna let have a taste later.” it didn’t sound like a question, and lee know didn’t mean it as either, he would spend the rest of eternity in between your legs, but he was equally as desperate to fuck you, his cock swelled just at the thought. he pushed a finger into your hole, you whimpered out his name in reaction. “that feels nice angel?” you nodded. “i’ll let it slide this once angel, but when i speak to you, you use your words, okay?” he pressed a second finger at your hole. “you want another?”

“pl-please.” you moaned as he added the second finger, using his thumb to rub your clit. “sweet angel your little cunt is squeezing my fingers like crazy.” he said. “you’re barely taking them, how can you take me cock if you can’t even take my fingers.” you whined. “i-i can, i promise.”he smiled, speeding up his movements, curling his fingers. “you gotta cum on my fingers first then, gotta open you up to take my cock.”

you felt something, your thighs began to tremble, your legs trying to close around leeknows wrist, but he held them open. “s-something- shh let it out angel, this is a good thing, that means you’re about to cum, be a good angel and cum all over my fingers.” on his word, you felt yourself release, cumming on his hand. “le-leeknow.” your body convulsed as he worked you through your orgasm, pulling his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. “oh fuck angel, you taste so good.” he groaned, tapping on your sticky clit.

“you ready for cock angel?” he rubbed his length on your folds, your juices coating his cock. “y-yes.” your whimpers turned into a loud moan as he slowly entered you, the tip of his cock alone stretching your cunt. “leeknow.” he sighed, his cock sinking into your cunt, your walls gripping him like vice. “fu-fuck angel, your cunt is squeezing me like crazy.” he grunted. “relax your pretty cunt for me, let me in.” he slowly moved his hips, taking his cock out, pushing back in.

you were a mess as he slowly moved inside you, the uncomfortable feeling slowly subsiding, turning into pure pleasure. “m-more.” that’s all he needed to speed up his movements, your moans bouncing off the walls of his chambers as he fucked you. “that’s it angel, take all of my cock.” his hand toyed with your nipples, pinching them.

you felt like you were floating, the tip of his cock slamming into your cervix. “are you going dumb on my cock already angel?” he chuckled. “it’s okay love, i’ll be right here, your love will be here when you come back.” he lifted your hips fucking deeper into you.

“fu-fuck angel, gonna make you my wife.” he grunted. “give you everything you deserve.” he promised. “no one will ever be able to harm you.” you listened to his confession, unable to speak. “sh-shit you’re clenching so tight around me, gonna cum aren’t you, tell me you love me first, i want to hear you say it.” he grabbed your chin. “i-i love you, i love you so much.” you mustered out. “lee-leeknow i’m gonna cum!” you screamed.

“cum for me angel, cum for me so i can fill your little cunt with my cum.” his words alone made you yell out his name as you came, your thighs shaking. “fuck angel, you came so fast -shit- you want my cum that bad, want to have my children, give me a heir?” you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist. “p-please.” his hips began to falter, his thrust becoming more messy. “fu-fuck angel, i’m gonna cum, gonna fill your pretty cunt up -ngh- fuckfuckfuck.” he cursed, his cum filling your cunt up. “take my cum, my little angel.”

your body laid there limp, your eyes fluttering close. “little angel are you sleepy, my cock made you that tired?” he chuckled as you nodded. “go ahead and sleep, i’ll clean your sweet body up.” that’s all you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

“you cannot enter cupids chambers right now he is-.” his door swung open, lee knows eyes opened, the angry angel making his way in. “you bastard! you’re a thief and a crook.” he yelled at the god, you can tell he was angry, because not even a prideful angel would dare do what he was doing. “you stole my gold and my angel.”

your eyes opened due to the commotion. “leeknow?” leeknows eyes darken upon hearing your voice. “you woke up my little angel with all your yapping.” he said. “your angel? she’s supposed to be mine!” the angel yelled. “enough of this.” leeknow belted. “why would i need your gold? you’re a lowlife.”he scoffed, the angel stood there fuming. “now get the fuck out before i have you killed, you’re scaring my wife.” with a snap of his fingers, two guards came in dragging the male out. “who was that?”

he turned to you, starring up at him. “just a upset customer, don’t worry about you’ll never see him again.” he dipped under the blanket, kissing your thighs. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered.

“gonna eat my little angels pretty pussy.”

©LUVYENI

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take-my-soul-if · 9 days

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Eros and Psyche IF

TAKE MY SOUL is an 18+ IF game being written in Twine. It's a retelling of the famous story of Eros and Psyche, just... with a few new added twists and turns!

Your sisters married off quick, you didn't. It was hard, harder than necessary for your parents to marry you off. Everyone seemed to kneel at the presence of your beauty but ended up never wanting to stay long enough for something to form.

You were practically a trophy for rich nobles to flaunt around. Cupid had failed you with this one.

Until one night, you felt a prick at your side, a rush of cold air, and suddenly your life flipped upside down when your parents came back to the castle with upsetting news about the rest of your life (or maybe the end of it?)

Customize YOUR own Psyche! Play as female, male, non-binary; straight, bisexual, pansexual, gay; asexual, and even, touch-averse! What hobbies should you have? What beliefs? What religion?

Follow the way the myth is supposed to unfold, or break away and create what you think should happen. Who said the minor god needed to get the person?

Find love in Cupid, or maybe even their mom?

Play as quite literally, one of the most beautiful people roaming Earth

Deal with your two obnoxious older sisters who only want to flaunt their husbands in your face

Enrich yourself in a story filled with new paths at every page and a whole ton of flavor text!

Have the occasional switch of POV, with the starring guest of Aphrodite, the Orcale?, and even your own love interest

CUPID

The god of love, albeit a minor one, but a god nonetheless. You've never seen them, as Eros likes to stay hidden whilst casting their arrows. But, from what your tutors teach you, they have these massive angel wings that preen out whenever they get into something mischievous. Cloth wraps around their naked body, Eros doesn't leave much to the imagination. However, in some readings, Eros is depicted as a female with hip-length black hair, while in others, the male version likes to keep it cropped and out of his way.

this is a draft! more romances may be introduced in the future, but currently, im sticking with Eros

DEMO COMING MAY 2ND!

#interactive fiction #twine if #if wip #interactive novel #if game

745 notes · View notes

lisired · 1 month

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who needs cupid’s bow?

pairing: bff!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: bff2l, suggestive, lots of sexual innuedos but no smut, fluff, a teaspoon of angst, mc & hc are oblivious to each other’s feelings and jaemin calls them out on their bullshit, mutual pining

summary: Cupid is not on your side, it seems. He’s made you fall in love with the worst possible person ever, AKA your best friend, AKA the man who still eats tootsie-pops—willingly. And frankly, it feels like the damn candy has a better chance of dating him than you ever will.

word count: 11.1k

a/n: inspired by down for you by kehlani, boyfriend by ariana grande, and serial lover by kehlani. another oldie but i kinda like it… kinda. as always, feedback is appreciated!

It’s safe to say that Cupid is your mortal enemy (Or immortal—whatever. Nonetheless, you aren’t the biggest fan of him.)

You don’t know why, but for some inexplicable reason, he always makes you fall in love with the wrong people. Such as Lee Taeyong from eighth grade, or your failed relationship with Kim Jisoo from your biology class in high school — a pretty girl, but you were as compatible as Mentos and Coca-Cola. Hell, there was even Jung Sungchan from senior year, who you naturally drifted away from during an exam period. They’re all chapters in your book now, but you’re currently stuck on the one about your best friend, Lee Haechan.

It seems like you’re Cupid’s mortal enemy, too. You and Haechan are always side by side, down one another’s throats, there’s no way his arrow could have hit you and missed Haechan.

Perhaps, it’s a hole you dug yourself in. Via mutual friends, when you were seventeen, you met Lee Haechan — jock, senior, and the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. There was an instant connection between you two, all it took was a convo at a party about coincidentally both failing the same math exam, and you quickly became friends and close enough to pour out your heart into little rants whenever there was something personal bothering either of you, and you needed an outlet. You liked him because he understood you. He was patient witth you. You see, you aren’t the best at communicating how you feel, and he never makes you feel bad about it.

You remember breaking up with your then-boyfriend, Jung Sungchan, and while you weren’t heartbroken since you saw it coming and all the love had evaporated by then, you were devastated that you no longer had someone to kiss. That being your main concern made Haechan laugh. He thought it was the most you thing ever.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you asked, a little grin on your face, although you were very serious. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, kissing your best friend. He has pretty lips, and it isn’t like it’ll mean anything, you think. It’s just one kiss.

Haechan scoffed, biting off the last remaining piece of his Tootsie Pop off the stick. You’re kidding, he thinks. Why would you seriously want to kiss him? And after breaking up with your now ex-boyfriend? The wound’s still fresh. “You wouldn’t dare.”

To Haechan’s surprise, you dared.

He tasted like chocolate, exactly like a Tootsie Pop, as expected of him. You didn’t mind, though. You never do. It was fun, you liked the way Haechan held you in his lap and kissed you back with fierceness, and he still kisses you with that same passion, like there’s no tomorrow.

And that’s the problem.

Fast-forward four years later, you’re still best friends with Lee Haechan, only this time you’re in college, and have the fattest, most gigantic crush on him. Somewhere along the way, those lines between love and friendship were blurred. It’s impossible to pinpoint when, but you fell deep and hard for your best friend.

And the worst part? You doubt he’ll ever reciprocate those feelings.

One kiss turned into more than you can count on your fingers and toes.

Should you continue making out with your best friend who doesn’t reciprocate your romantic interest in him? Probably not.

Are you still going to, though? Absolutely.

“Y/n, I’m going to kill you,” Haechan states as he stumps inside the dining room. His hair is tussled since he’s just waken up from a nap, but you like this raw side of him. He looks gorgeous, and despite him basically threatening to murder you you still want to kiss him.

“Romantic,” you deadpan, training your eyes back on your laptop. It takes everything in you not to stare, but if you want to keep your feelings low-key, you need to follow a couple of rules.

“I know you took my Tootsie Pop. Where is it?”

You smirk a little, but it quickly fades into a line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, so maybe that’s a lie, and you both know it. You aren’t the only other person in the house, but Jungwoo, Haechan’s stepbrother, is asleep and wouldn’t cut his nap time short to do something as stupid as stealing the last of his brother’s favorite candy. That leaves you. As his best friend, you’re the first person to know Haechan turns murderous over those stupid lollipops, and that he’s the last person to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. In your personal opinion, they’re not even that good. But he’s loved them ever since you’ve known him.

“We’re best friends, y/n. I know when you’re lying,” he remarks, and doesn’t give you the chance to answer before he persists, “where is it?”

There’s only one way out of this.

Run.

Haechan follows almost automatically, and in spite of being barely awake he obviously has the upper hand because he’s always leaned more towards the sport-y side. This doesn’t deter you though, because you have a getaway plan.

In your attempt to somehow outrun a man that used to do track and field, you make a beeline for the backyard door. He’s not going to outrun you in the grass in slippers, you think as you turn to see if he’s caught up on you. You’re in the lead, albeit barely, with your body almost being in arms reach. You try to pick up your speed, and once you reach the door you hurry to turn the knob. Except, there’s one, itty-bitty problem.

The door is fucking locked.

And you already know you won’t have time to open it, so you cave in to defeat, whirling around with your hands up in a surrendering pose. Your plan’s backfired; you’ve been caught.

“Oh, I’ve got you now,” Haechan says cockily. He has you—hook, line, and sinker, and at this point you aren’t even upset. You can’t be upset. His eyes are on you, and his body is close to yours, dangerously so.

“Okay, you win. Happy?” You mumur.

“Not until I get my Tootsie Pop back,” he shakes his head, “now where is it?”

Smiling, you shrug. Of course, you know where the candy is, but he’s either going to have to win or pry the answer out of you.

Then, he steps even closer, and your heart starts pounding in your chest twenty times faster than your feet were against the hardwood. This isn’t your first rodeo, you’ve made out with your best friend countless times, yet the anticipation gives you a rush, like you’ve never done this before. It makes you feel like a teenager in love all over again — seventeen, young and head over heels in love with the man closest to you.

He’s back you into the door, and you can’t keep your eyes off his lips. Beautiful, plush, soft, and your eyes flutter shut as you prepare to feel the same skilled pair against your own, closer, and closer, and closer—

Crunch.

“I fucking knew it!” Haechan yells, jolting your eyes open. You aren’t even given the opportunity to register the situation before his hands are digging into your back pocket, retrieving his fortunately unharmed Tootsie Pop.

It feels like he’s gone before you can even blink, and realizing he’s slipped back into the hall, you begin to follow him into his room. “Hey!” you yell, and he doesn’t say anything, just looking up at you from his gaming chair with that damn candy hanging from his mouth, “why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Why’d you steal my Tootsie Pop?”

Okay, that was stupid, yes, but there was a particular goal in mind which was reached, even if for a short-lived moment.

You frown, “I wanted your attention.”

Haechan shakes his head, laughing. “C’mere.”

Somehow, those words never fail, making you melt and slip into his lap effortlessly every time. You’re like Jell-O to his voice, to his touch, to his whole. You’re a goner, some would say, and a part of you is alright with never coming back if it means you get to feel all the weird, Cupid-y emotions he makes you feel.

At this point, you don’t think you’ll ever stop kissing Haechan. In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve both been in relationships, hence putting the make out sessions on hiatus. They were never really long though, because you’d break up with them and inevitably find your way back to one another in the end.

His fingers guide your chin up, and once more your eyes flutter shut as his lips unite with yours. Haechan kisses in a manner that contrasts with the soft feeling of his lips. He always starts off gentle, but there’s a hunger that overcomes him as he stands up and pushes you against his desk, rough yet graceful and holding you so firmly, like you’re glass, but he wants to break you. And when he shatters you into all those tiny pieces, you don’t care. You want him to glue you back together and do it all over again. He’s intoxicating, he’s an addictive drug, but he tastes like candy, and you can’t stop coming back to him. He feels like home, the place where you belong. The place where you can be one-hundred percent, authentically you, safe and whole, more than the general perception than you. And fuck, does he kiss like the damn devil himself.

You were silly for ever believing it would only be one kiss.

Jungwoo thinks that for people who are trying to keep their not-so relationship-y relationship under wraps, you two are very loud.

Speaking of which, and despite the nature of your relationship, you and Haechan haven’t even discussed your label. You know that you aren’t friends with benefits—you haven’t crossed that line, but to be honest, those lines have been starting to look blurry for a while—but you also aren’t in a relationship. You see other people, you fuck other people, and when other people ask if you’re dating, you both deny it immediately. You’re just best friends, you both say each time like some rehearsed line, even if it breaks your heart to hear him friendzone you.

Karina and Mark even have an ongoing bet about you two. Karina is one-hundred positive there’s something going on, whereas Mark is probably the only person in the world that wants to give you guys the benefit of the doubt.

“For heaven’s sake, I can’t get any type of sleep around here,” Jungwoo rasps, leaning against the doorframe, “I really hope you guys don’t do this shit when Dohwan’s here.”

His judgmental eyes practically bore into your soul, and you thank heaven that you don’t have to worry about keeping this secret from Jungwoo, even if he would probably appreciate it more if you did. He finds you in a rather interesting position, straddling Haechan’s lap as you press kisses into his collarbone.

It’s all Haechan’s fault, really. Three years ago, Jungwoo made the mistake of walking inside Haechan’s bedroom without knocking, accidentally finding you two making out in a very touchy way on his bed because a certain someone didn’t think to lock the door. Not only did you ruin his quote-unquote innocence, but his perception of you forever, and ever since that ordeal, Jungwoo has never opened his stepbrother’s door without knocking. This time, it just so happened to be wide-open.

You bite your lip, feeling bad. Kim Dohwan is Haechan’s halfbrother of whom he babysits whenever available (and you like to tag on, because dealing with children is stressful and Haechan’s already stressed enough), and on weekdays Jungwoo has to wake up from his nap earlier to pick up the kid from school and bring him back home, then leave for work. You were too loud and disrupted the poor guy’s nap time.

“Oh,” Haechan says the syllable blankly, not too sympathetic, “did we wake you?”

“Of course not, I usually wake up at 2pm and take extra longs showers to start my day,” Jungwoo deadpans, “but whatever. I’m heading out. Don’t forget to go grocery shopping today.”

“Noted,” you and Haechan say simultaneously, gazing at one another and stifling giggles when you catch each other’s gaze. Jungwoo smiles at you, then flicks off his brother before parting.

When you’re both all alone again, a few seconds pass before Haechan’s eyes do that thing where they twinkle every time something catches his interest (or perhaps that’s the in love side of your brain making you see things.)

“Hey, you coming to Chenle’s Valentines Day party Monday?” You don’t know why he’s even asking, you follow Haechan everywhere he goes like a lost puppy. Maybe he’s discreetly asking you out. “Unless you’re actually busy, by the way, I hope you know you’re going. And maybe you’ll find some single pringle interested in a relationship. You can’t just kiss me forever, you know.” Oh. Well that eliminates that thought.

A part of you is yelling at you to decline, to lie and say that you actually have a dick or pussy appointment scheduled for the 14th, yet another is weak, in spite of you being aware of how this works. First of all, Valentine’s Day parties are mainly for single people who don’t have anything better to do, and each time one of you go to one, you end up meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. You know that’s more than likely what he’s going to do, and you aren’t strong enough to watch him flirt with other people.

You know how to put up a good front, though, so you’ll fake it until you make it.

“We can do a lot more than kiss,” you suggest with a wink.

Haechan grimaces, “No thanks. Now get off my lap.”

You frown, but climb off his lap nonetheless. “Wow,” you drag dramatically, “You’ll make out with me for what feels like hours, but sticking your dick in me is where you draw the line?”

“Precisely.”

You gasp in faux offense. “Oh, come on. Sex doesn’t seem so bad. Like, think of it as my pussy giving your dick a nice warm hug.”

Haechan’s at a lost for words, his face bright red. How do you even come up with this stuff? “Oh my god, are you coming or not?”

You joke, “I thought you said sticking your dick in me was where you draw the line?”

He shoots you a glare so sharp you’re sure that if you were still on his lap, he’d be barely resisting the urge to shove you off. You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up, though.

Haechan groans exasperatedly, leaning back his gaming chair, “Y/n, seriously!”

“Fine!” resisting your best friend is literally impossible, you conclude, because you have officially caved in to his request—or, more or less, demand, rather, “fine, fine! I’ll go!”

“Great,” he grins with satisfaction, beaming with his thirty-two teeth, and you even see little gleams of smiles in his eyes, “anyway, Dohwan’s gonna be here soon, so let’s get ready to go shopping.”

You furrow your brows. You have a solid twenty minutes left, and all you really need to do is slip on your shoes.

“I need more Tootsie Pops,” Haechan adds, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense.

And you roll your eyes. “We’ll get you some more Tootsie Pops, but you better not ditch us for the candy aisle!”

“Of course, not,” he smiles, not even trying to sound or appear convincing. “I’d never leave you guys.”

That’s exactly what he does.

You aren’t even remotely surprised, though heavily disappointed when he announces in the middle of the thankfully empty cereal aisle that he’s going to find Tootsie Pops, managing to run off before you can even protest.

Gripping the shopping cart, you avert your gaze from the Cinnamon Toast Cruch boxes to his figure, almost missing him jog onto the following aisle. You shake your head, a small smile tugging your lips. If it were the end of the world, Haechan would stock up on those candies before he would even think to consider water.

“Auntie Y/N,” you aren’t quite adjusted to being addressed as an aunt, but you aren’t against it either. You have the image all put together—rich, thriving, and the kids adore you, “do you love my brother?”

That was perhaps the very last question you expected the six-year-old boy to ask you. Your eyes are a little wide, but it’s a kid, you remind yourself, so you shouldn’t be worried. But shit, then again, if a first-grader can figure it out, you’re fresh out of luck.

“Why do you think that?” You crouch down to be eye-level with him, having a feeling there’s some misunderstanding here. Dohwan’s bright for his age and doesn’t let anyone forget it, but you’ll be damned if he’s sniffed you out.

He makes a face. “I saw you kiss him, just like mommy and daddy do. And my mommy and daddy love each other very—” he stretches the vowel, and you can’t but giggle, “—much! That’s why they made me!” then he gasps, and you fear what it means, praying he doesn’t ask what you think he will. “Will you and my brother have a baby, too? I wan’ a new friend!”

On second thought, you think you’d rather he would’ve asked you what you thought he was. You nearly have a heart attack in the middle of the aisle, yet still, Dohwan gazes up at you with his innocent, sparkly eyes. You assume it’s in the blood; Jungwoo doesn’t have them, and he isn’t blood-related to Haechan, but Dohwan partially is, and the twinkle is promiment.

Calmly, you reply, “Don’t you already have a lot friends?”

He does, you both know it. You vaguely remember pulling up to his sixth birthday bash and being in shock of all the little kids jumping and flipping on the Spider-Man bouncy house. You haven’t been surrounded by that many children since, hell, probably since kindergarten.

“Yeah, but I wanna be a big brother,” he folds his tiny arms and pouts, “It’s not fair Hyuck and Woo get to be big, but I don’t!”

With minimum success, you manage to stifle your laugh, stretching out your arms to bring the little boy in for a hug, “You’ll be big one day. Trust me, you don’t wanna rush it.”

“And strong like Superman?”

“And strong like Superman,” you reassure, all smiley and convincing. “Now let’s go check up on your big brother, he’s taking too long.”

Dohwan rocks from side to side as he walks, murmuring some Nickelodeon TV show theme song, and you push the cart until you’ve reached your designation.

Quickly, you regret acting on your impatience. The scene taking place at the back of the aisle is anything but comforting—Haechan’s talking to some girl, whom of which is literally throwing herself onto him, and you can’t help but notice the way he wallows in the attention. For fucks sake, all the attention you give him and he doesn’t even give a fraction of it back! Then here comes this random girl from your campus.

Sometimes, you think about how you could do everything she’s doing right now—twirl your hair around your finger, be touchy with him, giggling girlishly at everything he says, funny or not—and yet he wouldn’t bat an eye, because you’re best friends and nothing more. Kissing each other breathless is already normalized between the two of you, what’s a little flirting.

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t kissed your best friend that day. You’re both too comfortable, everything is too weightless. I love you, Haechan says it back without a thought. C’mere, he calls and pulls you onto his lap or cuddles you to death. Fuck, he—on very rare occasions when making out goes a little too far—groans into your ear, groping you a little. Scratch that. It may be weightless on his end, but it isn’t on yours, and everything has an everlasting effect on you.

“Auntie?”

When you look down at Dohwan, your gaze is so, so tired. Your eyes do the talking; you can’t move your lips.

He hugs your leg. “I love you.”

His face is pure, innocent, but he reads you so perfectly. The corners of your lips turn up, and you ruffle his hair, “Love ya, too. Let’s go get your brother, alright?”

He bounces eagerly, and you both begin to stroll down the aisle until you’re beside Haechan. You’re in a selfish mood today, so you think of some remark to make in the process.

“Nice Tootsie Pops, Bowlcut,” you mask your tiny emotional breakdown with a joke, “Hi, Faith.”

“Hope,” she corrects, evidently annoyed by your presence, though she doesn’t state it outright. “My name is Hope. And… bowl cut?”

“Interchangeable,” you dismiss her correction carelessly. In all honesty, you already knew her name, but you’re feeling like a bitter bitch currently, “and yeah, in high school Haechan had this hideous bowl cut that he—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Haechan grumbles, “that was four years ago!”

“And I’ll never forget,” you’re smiling blissfully, nostalgic. “Anyways, what’cha two doing?”

“We were catching up, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen Hope here,” you hear Hope snicker at this, and something about it is extremely off-putting. He turns to her, “So, I’m in a bit of a time crunch. Could I have your number?”

Ouch. Right in your face, literally.

She giggles some more, typing her number in his phone, and you try to focus on Dohwan so that you don’t cave into your desire to knock her upside the head. There’s already so much on your plate, you don’t need an assault charge.

She smiles, all bubbly and giddy. You know jealousy isn’t a good look, but it’s still pissing you off. “See you around?”

“See you around,” Haechan replies. She hugs him, not forgetting to shoot you a look from across his shoulder as she does, and only once satisfied does she turns on her heel, sashaying away.

“Didn’t know pussy was on the shopping list,” you sneer, relieved once she’s finally gone. Her presence was suffocating.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “at least I’m actually trying, I don’t know what you’re going to do when I’m cuffed down and—holy sh—I mean crap! You’re so quiet, I forgot you were here,” Haechan jumps, only noticing Dohwan when he pokes at his leg. “And don’t you dare make a cuff joke, y/n. Not in front of the kid.”

You yell in that defensive tone which is a tell-tale sign you’re lying, “I wasn’t gonna!”

Haechan gives you the look.

The we’re-best-friends, I-know-when-you’re-lying look.

And that look is utterly withering, so you decide you’re accepting defeat. “Okay fine, maybe I was thinking about it, but I wasn’t actually gonna say it. Not with him around.”

Haechan snorts, like you said something funny, but in reality he just doesn’t believe you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s finish shopping.”

You don’t argue, but there’s a lingering thought in your mind as you push the cart, rattling around in your brain still.

When he’s cuffed. Hmm. You can’t speak for him completely, but you both know how that one goes. When you get into a relationship, you think the person is great and they serve as a nice temporary distraction—that is, until you’re bored and realize no one will ever compare to Haechan, and especially not in the kissing department. So you break up, and then you go back to making out with Haechan, solidifying your suspicion that no one will ever replace your best friend. It’s the reason you don’t do relationships anymore, you feel bad for using people when you know it isn’t going to change a thing. It never does.

As far as your knowledge extends, things aren’t too different with Haechan. You and him don’t push things, you don’t pry too deep. There’s some unspoken boundary, and you know when to drop things. That’s why you both say the same thing each time you ask one another why you and whoever it was that you were previously seeing broke up—it wasn’t working out.

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan always finds his way back to you too, because apparently you’re the only person that can keep him tied down. You don’t think that’s the case, though. Your problem is you’re in love with your best friend, no matter how hard you try to suppress the feelings. His problem? You can’t be sure, but you’d guess commitment issues.

Whatever it is, and as selfish as it may sound, you want it to stay. He isn’t yours, but you like the comfort of knowing that he isn’t anyone else’s, either.

If Cupid had a human counterpart, it would be Na Jaemin in reincarnated form. He may not have wings nor a bow and arrow, but he does have dedication and a gigantic mouth.

“I can’t believe you called me over here for this,” you stand in an effort to leave, but Jaemin pulls you back down by your wrist, so you sigh, accepting that you’re stuck in the cafe and in the middle of a Jaem-terrogation.

“Not so fast, Sonic. You still haven’t answered my question. I don’t have all day, you know, I have other people’s business to be in,” he admits unabashedly, and you snort at his honesty.

Jaemin is an extremely shameless, extremely straightforward individual. He knows what he wants, how to get it, and the only time he’s afraid of letting someone know what he’s chasing for is when it interferes with his goal of obtaining said desire. He loves all things drama and gossip, and these are the lengths he’ll go to squeeze information out of you. No wonder he’s one of the writers for the campus newspaper.

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan,” you fiddle with your fork. “And even if I did, why would it matter? Haechan doesn’t have feelings for me, either.”

“Forgive me, but you’re a fucking dumbass,” Jaemin concludes, and you gasp in dramatic offense. “Why would I be here if he didn’t like you back, y/n? You know that he hasn’t had anyone over in two weeks? There’s like, three things at the top of Haechan’s list of shit he needs to survive, and that’s you, Tootsie Pops, and sex. Yet he’s gone two entire weeks without it. He likes you, really fucking bad.”

“Golly gee, Haechan hasn’t fucked anyone in two entire weeks. He must be head over heels in love with me,” you deadpan, ignoring how Jaemin rolls his eyes in response. “Be serious, Jaem. He literally got this girl’s number the other day. The man said himself that he doesn’t want to stick his dick in me. There’s nothing going on.”

Okay, so maybe Haechan is a raging sexaholic. Maybe he’s been a little horny recently. And maybe contact-full makeout sessions have been a reoccurrence in the past two weeks, but none of that matters, and he typically has extreme self control. Fresh as yesterday, he was definitely trying to get into Hope’s pants. It’s weightless, everything between you. It means absolutely nothing, and you’re trying to come to terms with the possibility that it never will. You wish your friends would accept the fact, too.

At least they don’t know you and Haechan make out, and have been for the past four years. They’d be insufferable, and you two would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Y/n, please. Your biggest competition is those damn Tootsie Pops.”

“And if you told him that he had to live without me or the candy, he’d choose them over me any day.”

“Actually, he’d tell me to fuck off—and stop asking him stupid questions. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because I’m speaking from experience,” Jaemin grins, “I pushed the question until he gave me a proper answer. He chose you, by the way.”

You groan into your hands, “Unless you have some other evidence to provide besides this stupid question and him not getting laid in two weeks, you’re wasting my time here, Cupid.”

Jaemin sighs, “I thought I could pressure you into admitting your feelings—”

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan!”

“—that you deny having, but I guess taking the high road doesn’t work. Don’t worry, I still have plan B. I mean, you should be worried, but it’s whatever.”

You blink. “Plan B?”

He ignores you, standing up and preparing to take his leave. You’re still curious about whatever his alternative, backup plan is however, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to tell you.

“Jaemin!” You shriek. “What are you talking about?”

“February 14th, Chenle’s party,” he answers vaguely, swinging his bag over his shoulders. “Be there, or be square. Whatever that means.”

He exits without another word, leaving you dumbfounded and with a sudden dread in your chest. They don’t… know, do they? No, of course not. How could they? You’ve been keeping this secret for nearly four years, and the only people that know are Jungwoo and Dohwan.

Great. Another reason to dread the fourteenth, and despise Cupid—and his human counterpart, your actual mortal enemy.

“I know you like Regina George, but the dress code is Cady Heron.”

Bummer. You didn’t exactly plan on attending as a sexy bunny in fishnets and knee-high boots, but you don’t intend on wearing a Party City outfit, neither. It’s only the 6th though, so you still have a week and some change to outfit plan.

You frown, “Why the change? None of his past parties have had much of a dress code.”

“Because Chenle is also stuck babysitting his baby brother on Valentine’s day while his parents are having a date night,” Haechan answers. “I’m not saying you have to dress like a prude, but don’t dress like a slut, either.”

Ignoring the insinuation behind his words, you don’t miss the fact he said also. “What do you mean also? Don’t tell me…”

“Exactly what you think. Dad is whisking my stepmom away on a romantic evening date to only God knows where, and Jungwoo is busy with his girlfriend, so me being the sole single-pringle in the family gave him the bright idea to have me baby sit,” he explains, though he doesn’t seem burdened by the task. “I don’t really mind, though. It’d be one thing if I planned on getting some pussy that night, but no one’s smashing at a party where there’s children. I hope not, at least.”

You wince at that. You hope not, too. It’s a setback that you have to re-plan your outfit, but on the plus side, Haechan can and will help you decide this time, even if you have to force him.

So that’s where you find yourself a couple hours later, your bedroom a mess as the aftermath of the meticulous care you’ve put into your self-styling. You’ve narrowed it down to two outfit selections; option A, the white crop-top with the cute pink pants; or option B, the pretty and red mini-dress with stilettos. It’s a little embarrassing that hours of your indecisiveness have led you to this conclusion, but you want to choose the perfect outfit that’s also not overbearing.

“And I have to help you why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends are for, duh.”

Haechan’s favorite thing about your place is you have all his utmost favorite games—and that literally everything there is like a piece of you, from the decoration to the smell of your perfume bottles you keep in your bathroom. He’d never tell you that, though—so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about being interrupted from his video-gaming session. But then, he realized he gets a special preview of your Valentine’s day outfit, and Haechan loves the way you dress, probably an abnormal amount. Slutty or prude-y.

“Then what’cha waiting for? Strip for me, princess,” he demands jokingly. It isn’t normal for you to feel bashful by anything a guy says, but everything is so different with Haechan. It’s the littlest, simplist things that drive you over the edge, that make you want him in ways you probably, scratch that, definitely shouldn’t.

And all the questions, assumptions, and rumors regarding your nonexistent relationship with Haechan aren’t exactly unwarranted. You two flirt and touch an abnormal amount, and while it’s common knowledge that Haechan is a touchy person, and you’re a natural flirt, people say it’s extreme between you two.

That makes you laugh. When it comes to the tension between you both that people speak of, you wish you could see what they see.

“You want to watch me strip?” You’re genuinely surprised, only the other day he seemed repulsed by the thought of you naked. “That’s new. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, silently confirming what Jaemin told you at the cafe, but you shake the thought away, refusing to let it spur you on. It doesn’t mean anything. “Anyways. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, baby girl. Now, you gonna strip or what?”

“I’m stripping, I’m stripping! Relax, Liam Payne!” It’s really nothing he hasn’t seen before, because Haechan’s seen naked girls, and he’s seen you half-naked before, so neither of you actually care. You peel off your top, slowly and in a strip tease sort of way and look him in the eye, giggling once you catch him shaking his head. You don’t repeat the movement with your shorts though, simply taking them off and picking up your new shirt to slip it off the hanger.

Successfully discreet, Haechan wallows in the sight of you half-naked for as long as he can before you’re slipping on the crop top and the pink pants. Now that he thinks about it, he bought you those pants, and darn do they make your ass look good. Then he realizes he’s thinking about your ass and taking not as discreet looks at it, and shakes the thought away.

“So?” Your voice cuts through the silence. “What do you think?”

He needs a moment to gather himself and recollect his thoughts, because he feels like turning on Destiny’s Child’s Bootylicious and if spoke his mind he would definitely say something he’d regret. Like, I could fuck the shit out of you. He doesn’t think he should say that.

“What do you mean, what do I think? I bought you those pants, I’d be damned if I thought you didn’t look good in them,” Haechan supplies, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Very underwhelming reaction. I wanted you to fall out on the floor and pass out for a few seconds with your hand on your chest,” you pout.

“Definitely not doing all that,” he chuckles. “But you do look good enough for… somebody to do it. Anyways, it’s stripping time again. Get in that dress for me, princess.”

If he doesn’t stop with the pet names you’re going to combust. You hide it though, taking off outfit option A and putting on option B. You feel confident in your appearance, with or without him, but the way Haechan’s practically gawking at you does boost said confidence.

“What about this one?”

Okay, so Haechan’s one-hundred percent biased in his decision—or maybe he isn’t, since he didn’t buy this outfit—though nonetheless, he loves this dress on you. In his personal opinion, you’ll look good in anything you wear, but the way this particular dress hugs your figure perfectly is a bonus. He knows all eyes are going to be on you the moment you step inside Chenle’s house, and maybe he’s going to have to keep you and Dohwan close to his side.

Rather than replying verbally, Haechan walks forward and pulls you into a kiss. His hands dip around your waist, skirting the area until he’s gripping you like he’s afraid of letting go.

And as always, you melt into his lips. Like ice to the sun, or wax to a flame. It’s the umpteenth kiss in your whole lifetime, but Haechan always makes it feel like the first time. Like two love-struck highschoolers, except with a lot more experience. Haechan kisses you like he loves you, and you hate it. You might even loathe it.

His fingers slip down your hips, to your revealed thighs, like he just so happens to know that’s one of your weak spots. Luckily you’ve learned some of his weak spots too, and not really thinking, you don’t hesitate to aim for his most sensitive one - his neck. You can’t get used to how beautiful he sounds as he moans, your lips pressing into his sweet spot and leaving undoubtedly a mark.

“Fuck,” Haechan moans, “you’re my kryptonite, you know that?”

“A kiss is all it takes for you to fold?” You gasp out with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

Your grin widens. “Make me.”

Just as he leans in, about to pin you down to your duvet and kiss the life out of you while you’re thinking that maybe this is the tension people speak of, his phone rings in his back pocket. It feels like snapping out some trance or spell, like a reverse Cupid’s arrow, and he instantly backs off of you.

He takes a look at his phone screen. “I um, I gotta take this.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “Okay.”

“You look great though,” he comments, and you smile thinly at him as he slips from between your fingertips yet again.

It seems that you’re left all alone, pathetically wet, and wondering if that person on the other line is Hope - but you try to shake that thought off.

Sighing, you flop against your sheets. Love is some extremely cruel, extremely rigged game that only lucky people win, and it seems that Luck has sided with the evil that is Cupid. You’ve been dealt cards, and Haechan refuses to show you his hand. All you can do is watch it play out.

Haechan knew that something was dangerously off when Jaemin bought him a brand-new bag of Tootsie Pops without being asked, and invited you over for a movie night with the guys, offering to open up with you and Haechan’s all-time favorite movie, Mean Girls. He even offered to play The Kissing Booth next! Everyone else instantly protested of course, but the fact he offered in the first place is borderline suspicious.

Sure, Jaemin’s not the devil or anything, depending on who you ask. He’s… kind, and he can be a sweetheart. But Jaemin does nothing for free, and Haechan can’t shake the thought that this is planned bribery. And it isn’t hush-money. Jaemin doesn’t buy silence, he buys words.

By the time Jaemin asks Haechan to help him with the popcorn, he’s ninety-nine point nine percent sure that something is definitely wrong here. Yet still, he follows him into the kitchen.

“Alright, what’s up man?” Haechan wastes zero time, wanting to get to the bottom of all this. “I know you want something out of me. There’s no other reason you would offer to play The Kissing Booth, or buy me Tootsie Pops for free.”

Jaemin scoffs, but he doesn’t try to front, “Glad you know. Since we’re on the same page, let’s address this thing with you and y/n.”

“That’s what this is about?” Haechan grumbles. “I’ve told you, I don’t have feelings for her!” He whisper-yells.

Jaemin has heard that far too many times for it to be convincing. He’s positive that even Helen Keller herself could tell you two are hopelessly in love. Takes one to know one, he thinks. It seems the three of you must be blind, because you and Haechan are oblivious to your feelings for one another, and it’s painfully obvious.

“And Mary wasn’t a virgin,” Jaemin says ironically, making Haechan roll his eyes. “If you’re not in love with her, then explain what the hell is going on between you two. I know that she’s your best friend or whatever, but you don’t act like it at all. From a fresh perspective, someone would totally think you’re in love.”

Haechan hates that he’s right. It doesn’t make sense the amount of times you’ve gone to public places and had cashiers refer to you as a couple, or elderly people ask you if you’re together. Because you’re not. You’re best friends, and even if Haechan wants to be more than that, that’s his label. And he’s sure he’s stuck with it for life.

“You’re fucking Hope to distract yourself from your feelings for y/n,” Jaemin adds, and it’s a statement, not a question.

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Jaemin interjects. “Head over heels, in love with a girl you think doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you’re also being an ass to her, whether you know it or not.”

If Haechan was in a situation where he needed to simplify the reason you two click so well, he’d say chalk it up to compatibility and say it’s because you’re like a mirror of one another. Which also means he knows you, better than anyone else even, and he knows neither of you do the whole catching feelings things anymore. You like to fuck and flirt, and fuck some more, to avoid the fact that you love too hard. If you fuck people whose names you don’t even remember, it doesn’t mean a darn thing that you two make out.

No one really knows about that part yet. But they do know that you like to fuck, and that’s why Haechan thinks that if he’s an ass, then that means so are you. What the fuck is he doing that you aren’t?

Even if he is an ass, what is he supposed to do? He’s only recently realized that damn, he actually does have feelings for you, which is where Hope comes along and yes, he is fucking her to distract himself from you. So what? It’s not like it’s working, he’s still stuck on you, obsessed with the thought of you, craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He still loves you, and it’s so scary because no matter what his friends say, he thinks they don’t know you or your relationship like he does. They think they do, but they don’t.

“I’m not in love,” Haechan lies through his teeth, “maybe I’m in like.”

Jaemin snorts. In like? That’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. Not in love his fucking ass. “You’re in denial, that’s what you are.”

Haechan grumbles, trying desperately not to raise his voice so that the others don’t hear him from the living room, “Even if I did like her—and I’m telling you, I don’t—it wouldn’t change anything because she doesn’t like me.”

“You two are the same breed of oblivious and stupid,” Jaemin takes the popcorn out of the microwave, pouring it all into a bowl. He’s even laughing, much to Haechan’s confusion, but he’s apparently unbothered by Haechan’s lack of confession, “but fine. Lie to my face. I still have a backup plan.”

“A back-up plan?” Haechan repeats, lost.

“I just thought it would be nice of me to try and get you to confess before I have to work a Valentine’s day miracle, but unfortunately you two are a match made in heaven—both terribly stubborn,” Jaemin says vaguely, not really answering Haechan’s question, “so I guess we’ll all know the truth at Chenle’s party.”

Jaemin exits with the popcorn bowls before Haechan can even part his lips to ask another question, and he stands there, shocked and unsure of how to react. He’s concerned, though. Jaemin has something cooking (besides the popcorn), and he isn’t sure what, but it’s Na fucking gossiping blabbermouth Jaemin. That means it can’t be anything good.

So apparently when you and Haechan had that heated makeout session the other day, you left a trail - or in other words, you marked his neck the fuck up.

You hadn’t noticed because he covered it up with concealer, but you’re in the middle of another one of those when he stops you, preventing you from repeating your mistake.

“You can’t do that. People will see,” Haechan frowns. You wonder what’s the problem with hickeys. Is he embarrassed? No way. Haechan? Embarrassed? About hickeys? He has much bigger fish to fry.

In contrast, you’re over the moon. Even if he isn’t yours, marking him up makes you feel like he belongs to you. Plus, other people will see, and they’ll know that he isn’t theirs, either. Haechan also has a beautiful neck, you realize as you stare at his skin. It makes you wonder if there’s anything about him that isn’t beautiful.

“Would that be so bad?” You ask. “You’d look sexy all marked up by me.”

Haechan groans, “Do you ever think with your head and not your pussy?”

“I wish my pussy was my head. My head’s just so full of you,” you sigh dramatically.

It’s rare for Haechan to blush, but you somehow manage to make him full-on flush sometimes and you take that as an achievement. It’s partially the reason you love flirting with him so much, he’s so reactive. His reactions are cute sometimes.

“Be serious for 5 seconds,” he whines, and you giggle.

“I was serious,” you insist, “but fine, I’ll think with my head since yours is clearly not working. No one’s gonna assume they’re from me, Hyuck. Just tell them they’re from one of your hoes.”

“I know, but it’s not them I’m worried about. It’s, um…” he trails off.

You’re confused, blinking. If not your friends, then who on earth—oh, for fucks sake.

“It’s Hope,” you utter tonelessly.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he wonders why you suddenly sound so dry, and then the whole grocery shopping thing seeps back into his mind. You obviously don’t like Hope, and it’s not just you, really. Lots of people don’t like her. But Haechan needs a pretty face to compete with the image of yours in his head, even if it isn’t winning. “She kinda likes me, and—”

“Do you like her?” You don’t mean to ask so fast. It slips, like your mouth has a mind of its own.

Haechan shrugs. No, he doesn’t like her. He likes you, but he thinks that maybe he can somehow convince himself it’s the other way around. So he replies, “Maybe.”

Fuck. You try not to appear suddenly devoid of life, forcing a cheery smile. “That’s… nice,” you lie through your teeth. “Let me take this opportunity to have one last kiss before I possibly never will again?”

Haechan snickers, to silently say as if. He isn’t wrong for it, either. One kiss is never one kiss with him — never has been, never will be. There’s a reason you both bonded over bombing a math exam.

D-day rolls around, and you’re eyeing your frame in your full-length mirror, smoothing your palms over your dress as you give yourself a quick once-over before the clock strikes 7PM. You look like that bitch, and everyone in that party is going to fucking know it because you’re going to walk in there like that bitch. Fuck Cupid. You don’t need his stupid bow. And fuck Haechan, too. He’s your ride, but he’s gonna ditch you at some point in the party like he always does. It’ll be no different now, and this time, you’ll be the first one to leave.

The chime of the doorbell jolts you from your mental slumber, and you quickly reach for your purse then head towards the door with a heavy heartbeat. You know he’s already seen you in this dress, he chose it for fucks sake, but there’s something else that gets your heart racing—no. You can’t think about him. Fuck Haechan, remember? He’s no good for you.

“Here goes nothing,” you mutter to yourself, palm on the doorknob, “you can do this.”

Haechan’s sucks in a breath the moment you open the door. You look gorgeous. You always do, but in this particular moment, you look better than you ever have before. Those corny romance sayings usually make him laugh with mirth, but he’s genuinely convinced you look better everyday that he sees you. All dressed up like this, or not.

“You look so pretty, Auntie!” Dohwan beats him to a compliment.

You bend down to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Thank you, Dohwan. You look very handsome.” And then you look at Haechan.

He looks handsome as well, unfortunately. Jet black hair, exposed forehead, and his outfit is black with red hearts in the center of the shirt. You try not to pay him too much mind, but your heart and the place between your thighs don’t seem to agree with your mind. He catches you looking at him, and feels a twinge of anxiousness in his heart. Get it together, man, he tells himself. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t get nervous looking at pretty girls. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate about his actions, either, wondering if he should hold your hand, he doesn’t rethink what he should say. It all comes to him naturally.

“Yeah, you look beautiful,” he settles, mentally cursing himself for being unable to think of anything else. He blames you. Ever since you first snuck in his mind, you’ve been living rent-free there, and make it hard to think about anything else sometimes. That’s why he thought that needed distractions.

If you could relay the message to your heart, you’d tell it stop beating. Instead, you mask your emotion, smiling. “Thank you, likewise. Now c’mon, we gotta get there by 7:30!”

Haechan’s saddened by the dismissal, but you don’t catch his face as you walk to his car.

If you ignore him, you can do this.

Haechan cannot do this.

Something isn’t right. It wasn’t right the second he noticed you gave him a simple, rushed compliment, not bothering to make some sexual remark that usually makes Haechan’s cheeks feel like fire. You didn’t even kiss him before you got in the car. And Haechan’s sure you’ve been avoiding him like the plague, scurrying off and getting lost in the red and pink sea before he could even ask you if you wanted to check out the drink menu.

He doesn’t know where you are, and that haunts him. Turns out Chenle is paying Yangyang, Ten and Jisung to keep the kids entertained on one end of the house, whilst the adults do adult-y things on the other. You could be with someone else for all he knows, hell, you probably are. He was practically fuming when he saw some people staring at you as you walked in.

“Uh oh, I think y/n divorced Haechan,” Chenle jokes, and a choir of laughs follows suit.

Haechan grumbles, “A guy can’t miss his girl best friend?”

“Of course, you can,” Chenle drawls, “but everyone knows she’s more than just a friend to you. Like even if you aren’t together, there’s no way you guys don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Right? And they’re so cute together, too. A literal match made in heaven by angel Cupid,” Jaemin agrees, speaking as though Haechan isn’t right there.

“You’re dating y/n?” gasps Karina, overhearing Jaemin much to Haechan’s dismay. Oh, great, she’s as much as a blabbermouth as he is. The whole world’s going to think Haechan’s dating you in five minutes or less.

“No!”

“Yes, he is, spread the word,” Jaemin says, already knowing he doesn’t have to tell her. Karina’s mumbling I knew it under her breath before jogging somewhere.

“You know,” Haechan starts, downing a shot because if he’s not at least tipsy he’s going to die at this party, “she’s been making me watch murder documentaries with her and I’ve definitely picked up a thing or two. I’d be careful.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Please. You’re going to be kissing my ass and the ground that I walk on by the time this party’s over.”

There it goes. Haechan wonders what’s so special about tonight that Jaemin’s been hinting at vaguely. It’s been keeping him on his toes, but he doesn’t ask because he knows Jaemin, and he isn’t going to tell him a thing. The one time this guy wants to keep something secret.

An hour flies by, and Haechan still hasn’t seen you. He’s looked for you, and refuses to believe his eyes are somehow missing you, even though you’re in a crowd. He literally went up the stars and gazed over the railing for a better view, and you were no where to be found. You’ve refused to answer your phone, too, and Haechan doesn’t know what to do. He would just start talking to some random chick, but that’s not what Haechan wants. He doesn’t want some random chick. He wants to be with you. Hold you. Touch you. Kiss you, with no shame, no fear, in front of everyone, and he isn’t in denial about it. He wants you.

And Jaemin is fed up.

“Alright, I’m tired of you moping around drinking like a divorced man. Let’s go to the kitchen,” Jaemin suggests. Or commands, but still.

Haechan quirks a brow. “Where there’s nothing but more drinks?”

“Trust me, I’m not letting you drink anymore tonight. You have a wife and a kid to drive home,” Jaemin jokes. Usually he’d deny any sort of relationship with you that isn’t best-friendship, but Haechan simply shakes his head, following his friend and roommate into the kitchen.

Then he sees you, and his jaw doesn’t just drop, but it falls flat on the ground, bounces a little, and comes back down. You’re clinging to Chenle’s side with a confused face, equally as surprised to see him, though not very delighted.

“What’s going on?”

You stare at one another.

“Stop copying me!”

Jaemin and Chenle stare at one another, then stare at you two staring at one another, and stare at one another again.

“I hate to interrupt your… stare-off, but there’s a reason we brought you two here,” Jaemin interjects, making you two finally split gazes as you stare at him, confused.

“Which is?”

You glare at him. Jaemin’s success was short-lived, it seems.

“Drum roll, please,” he says, and Chenle begins tapping against the counter, “Dohwan!”

Suddenly, Dohwan pops up from around the corner. He’s on the completely wrong side of the house, and while he’s under adult supervision, you still wonder why he’s here.

You blink. “What’s he doing here?”

Jaemin smirks. “I’m glad you asked. Dohwan tells me he’s witnessing some very interesting sights of the two of you. Go ahead and tell us what you saw, kiddo.”

“I saw Haechan and Auntie y/n kissing, like mommy and daddy do!” Dohwan shares, grimacing in disgust. If you weren’t practically fearing for your life right now, you’d probably laugh at his reaction.

“And how often do you see this?” Chenle adds.

“Um…” the kid ponders, “every time Auntie y/n comes over. I heard them say they wanted to keep it a secret from me, but they’re not very good at it.”

Haechan shoots you a panicked look, and you’re wearing the exact same one. By the time you realize that this is what Jaemin’s been hinting at this whole time, it’s much too late. Your secret has been exposed to the worst people ever, and now they’re definitely going to think you’re dating.

“Thank you for your input, Dohwan,” Jaemin smiles, then turns to look at you and Haechan. You’re both frozen and stiff, unsure of how to respond. “So, anything to say about this?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Haechan’s quick to say. You hope no one catches the way your face falters with hurt for a split second. “If you want me to be honest, then fine, I will. Yeah, we kiss. We’ve been kissing since high school, but it didn’t mean anything then and it doesn’t mean anything now. We just, I don’t know, do it for fun.”

Chenle deadpans, “So you just kiss for pure, innocent fun.”

“Exactly,” Haechan nods. “It means nothing.”

It means something to me, you think to yourself, and when you notice the silence in the room, you gaze up to see everyone’s eyes on you, Haechan’s a little wide. Oh, fuck.

“I said that aloud, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Jaemin grins. He was right. “Is there something you want to share with the class?”

Stupidly, you decide to look at Haechan, and he’s re-lost his composure, frozen up and stiff all over again. Your heart is pounding harder than it has been all night. It’s partially the alcohol, but you can feel it in your veins and all around you. It won’t leave you alone, and looking at Haechan, it’s faster, as if to say he’s the one I want.

So you choose to make another decision that you might possibly regret, but you have to get this off your chest. It isn’t news to anyone but Haechan anyways.

“Donghyuck,” you start, and he knows it’s getting serious because you just said his government name. You literally never call him by his government name. “I know we agreed to keep things platonic, and for it to mean nothing, but I want you. Like really, really bad. I think I—no, everyone’s right, I really am, extremely in love with you. If you don’t feel the same I understand, I just had to get this off my che—”

You aren’t given the chance to finish before Haechan swoops you in his arms, reaching for your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. There’s a chorus of cheers from Chenle and Jaemin, followed by a shriek of disgust from Dohwan as he covers his eyes, but you two aren’t trying to hide anymore, you want to scream from the rooftops that you’re in love. Yes, the infamous Lee Donghyuck and y/n know more than flirting and fucking. You’re in love, drunk off of a sip of it and the taste of Haechan’s lips, and god, has kissing your best friend never felt better.

“Let’s give the newlywed couple some privacy now,” Jaemin says with a grin. Gosh, he really is the spawn of Cupid, but you have to thank him. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for his stupid ‘gotcha!’ plan. “You two work this out.”

The three of them pile out, and you and Haechan part from one another to breathe. You stay in comfortable silence for a moment, his hands slipping into yours.

“Your hands are sweating,” you comment after a while.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s the middle of February.”

“So? Global warming is real, you know,” Haechan shrugs, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his hand is sweating because he’s nervous. He’s accepted that you make him feel all warm inside and his heart feel like mush, but he still isn’t used to not hiding the way you make him feel.

You laugh but don’t press things. “Newlywed couple, huh. Can’t be, you still haven’t popped the question.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, too. “Then will you take my hand in marriage and take me as your illegally wedded husband?”

You hum, pretending to contemplate, “Hmm, I don’t know. You sure you don’t wanna marry a giant cardboard Tootsie Pop cutout? Or what about that girl? What happened to her, by the way, I thought you said you liked her.”

Haechan groans, not really wanting to think about her right now, “No more Hope. Ironically, she’s a lost cause. I had to cut shit with her because she can’t comprehend what a fling is. She wanted a relationship, and you know, I lied to you when I said that I might want her. I didn’t know you liked me back until, like, now, so I was just saying shit in hopes of convincing myself I could stop liking you. That planned failed, though.”

His words lift a massive weight off of your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe now. Take that, bitch, you think with a smirk. She was giggling in your face so hard at the grocery store, but you’re having the last laugh.

You tilt your head. “What about the Tootsie Pops?”

“Yeah, sorry but I can’t give them up as easily. Would you mind a Tootsie Pop bouquet?”

Gosh, this is the man you love. You roll your eyes, but smile as you reply, “You know, you’re like a Tootsie Pop.”

If Haechan were a dog, his ears would perk up right now. “How come?”

“I’ll never know how long I’ll be able to kiss you without wanting to fuck you,” you lean in his ear to purr, voice tickling his neck. You eye it and his lips, and lord knows you can’t wait to finally be able to mark him up again.

“Yeah? Wanna go home, put Dohwan to sleep, and let me take this dress off you?” He grips at your waist, his hand resting there with the burning urge to dip lower. He bites his lip.

“Thought you drew the line at sticking your dick in me,” you joke.

“That was when I was in denial about wanting you,” Haechan whispers, “but now I can admit to myself that even though you amazing in this dress, I wanna take it off of you. Your body’s perfect.”

“I kinda hate the scar on my thigh.”

“Don’t. It provides depth to your character. It makes someone wonder how you got it, the story of how it happened,” he answers, ever so deeply.

“Poetic,” you snort, “can’t tell if you’re giving me Bruno Mars or John Legend vibes more right now.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, smiling. “You said you’d never know how long you’d be able to kiss me without dying to fuck me, right?”

“I never said dying.”

He ignores you, “Then let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

Your lips wind up pressed firmly to his, with your hands on his cheek and his palms on your hips yet again. It’s fiercer than ever, Haechan’s kissing you like he doesn’t want to let you breathe, like he wants to stay in this moment with you forever. He kisses you with love and lust, with passion and desire, with emotion and no more fear in his chocolate-y eyes. You don’t regret kissing Haechan that day. It took a while, but it brought you to this moment where you can finally call him yours. And that one more kiss stuff is bullshit. His lips are yours and vice versa, and as you’re by each other’s side, you’ll never stop kissing him. And he’ll never stop kissing you.

“They’re here!” Karina suddenly bursts into the kitchen, pointing at you and Haechan. “Look! I told you they were dating!”

Oh, god. You totally forgot about Karina’s stupid bet with Mark. Mark looks entirely devastated and surprised, devastated because that’s twenty-five bucks gone from his wallet, and surprised because he genuinely believed you and Haechan have been best friends this whole time. Technically, he isn’t wrong, but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt to tell them that.

Mark whines, “Oh, c’mon! I really thought you guys were just friends.”

“Pay up, loser,” Karina smirks, and with a pout, Mark pulls cash from his pockets.

Haechan looks at you, and while you don’t say anything, you can tell you’re both thinking the exact same thing. The whole campus is about to know you two are dating. Karina’s for sure going to tell everyone she knows, hell, probably even people she doesn’t know, and there’s a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of Jaemin raining your business on everyone in his latest report for the school newspaper.

You can’t say that you care, though. This is what you wanted, to unashamedly love Haechan, to be able to state it proudly in front of everyone, to let everyone know, to claim him as yours and yours only. So fuck Cupid. Fuck his bow, fuck his arrow, because this relationship is all a product of you and Haechan’s hard work and dedication.

Who needs Cupid’s bow when you have tasty lips and Tootsie-Pops?

“You’re telling me you’ve been in love with me for the past four years? Oh, you’re a soldier. I would have given up in the first month.”

You snort. Part of becoming Haechan’s girlfriend is the process of telling one another the secrets you’ve been keeping, such as how long you can been in love. Haechan’s been in love with you for a solid year, he thinks, maybe two, but it’s been almost four years for you, on the other hand.

“If only it were that easy,” you sigh. “Trust me, I tried getting over you by getting under other people—how Jessie Reyez of me—but that didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You are too much like me,” Haechan shakes his head. “What made you think we should anyways?”

“You mean, four years ago, or now?”

Haechan shrugs. “Either. Give me three reasons.”

“Oh, brace yourself. I could do a presentation on this. One, we know each other’s McDonald’s orders. Two, like you said, we’re very alike. When have we ever argued over pizza toppings?” You reason. “Three, I can’t imagine kissing anybody else. I mean, we’ve basically been practicing on each other for the past four years. I’m the reason you can kiss so good, it would insane for you make out with other people. Four, I have a fat ass and sometimes I catch you staring at—”

“I said three reasons!” Haechan cries, face blooming red as a rose.

“I could go for a fifth,” you grin, “we’re both terrible at math.”

“Damn right we are,” he mutters. “But that’s what makes us… us, isn’t it? The only reason we’re dating right now is because we couldn’t resist kissing each other after one time.”

He’s right. It practically only took one kiss to fall in love with Haechan. He’s giving you major Dua Lipa vibes right now.

“I know you’re thinking about that Dua Lipa song right now.”

You smirk. “You know me very well.”

He tilts his head. “And what else are you thinking about?”

“That you look like all I need,” you say in tune, making Haechan laugh. “And I just want to feel your skin on mine.”

“Then we should do something about that, right?” Haechan smirks back.

You’re kissing the smirk right off his lips seconds later, and this is where you decide that you just can’t get enough of him. Even if one kiss is all it takes, you’re greedy for more, and more, and more, until both your lips are swollen and you’re both gasping for air.

#haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct imagines #haechan imagines #lee haechan smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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lecsainz · 6 months

Note

Hi can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumours going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂

EVERYONE WAS WRONG

parings: travis kelce + swift!reader

author 🗒️’s: I missed writing smau 😭

summary: where you are taylor swift sister and there’s something with travis but everyone thinks he and taylor are dating.

✩. . . masterlist !

liked by selenagomez, icespice and 1.989.073 others

ynswift can I say I'm cheating on the eagles?

tag: @/taylorswift @/chiefs

see all 65.638 comments

taylorswift still can't believe you made me come to this game

⤷ ynswift didn't force you at all!

user6 love seeing the swift sisters together

killatrav It was nice meeting you, y/n

⤷ ynswift likewise, kelce

⤷ killatrav hope to see you girls at the next game

⤷ ynswift I need to check my schedule

user1 y/n being the cupid of tayvis

user Is it confirmed that taylor and travis are together???

⤷ user4 I think so

user2 she it's me in life: the friend who always couples people up

user5 andrea, please adopt me to be their sister!

⤷ ynswift mom said she'd adopt!

⤷ user5 OH MY GOD

philadelphiaeagles no comments

⤷ ynswift I swear we still loyal to your team

user7 I want a tayvis photo, make it happen y/n!

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Y/N and Travis had met during a The Eras concert, what seemed like a normal show turned into something entirely different. Y/N didn't expect it until she literally ran into this 6'5'' tall man. He was so much taller than her that she couldn't help but feel incredibly drawn to the unknown man, so much so that she forgot how to speak when he asked if she was okay.

Travis found the blonde girl utterly charming and just had to ask for her number. However, instead of getting her number, he received a polite but firm "no." That piqued the curiosity of the Kansas City Chiefs' tight end. With determination, he approached one of the security guards to inquire about the mysterious blonde girl. After a bit of investigating, he finally discovered that she was Y/N Swift, the younger sister of the famous Taylor Swift.

Travis couldn't help but be intrigued by this revelation. He felt compelled to get to know Y/N better, despite the initial rejection. It took him over a week to gather the courage to send her a direct message. When he did, he invited her to an Eagles game, which he later learned was the Swift family's favorite team, and having her older brother on the team made it easier to secure a private suite for their date.

As the two of them spent more time together, a genuine connection began to form. Y/N was captivated by Travis's charisma and his down-to-earth personality, something she hadn't experienced with anyone in a long time. Travis, on the other hand, was smitten with Y/N's intelligence, warmth, and her unique ability to make him forget about the pressures of the football field.

One date led to another, and before they knew it, they were deeply involved in a relationship that neither had anticipated. Their connection was electric, and they couldn't get enough of each other's company.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, Y/N and Travis's bond grew stronger. They had shared dreams, inside jokes, and an unspoken understanding that went beyond the public eye. But their connection was shrouded in secrecy, as Y/N didn't want to overshadow her sister's fame and success.

Despite their efforts to keep things private, the media eventually caught wind of their relationship. Reports began to circulate, with speculations of a romance between Travis and Taylor Swift, not Y/N. The rumors hurt Y/N, as it seemed like her own life would always be overshadowed by her sister's immense fame.

Little did she know that amidst the media frenzy and the complications of their secret relationship, she would find herself facing an unexpected twist of fate – she was pregnant with Travis's child.

As days turned into weeks, Y/N couldn't keep the secret any longer. She knew she needed to tell Travis about the life-changing news, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over her. She had never been in a situation like this before.

One evening, she decided it was time to confide in Travis. With her heart pounding, she went to his house, her mind filled with thoughts of how he might react. Would he be overwhelmed? Would he want to be a part of this?

Travis opened the door and smiled warmly at her, inviting her in. Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to talk to you about, something important."

Travis's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "What's going on, Y/N? You look serious."

Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to tell you. It's not easy, and we didn't plan for this, but..." She paused, her eyes glistening with emotion, "I'm pregnant."

For a few seconds, there was silence. Travis processed the information, and his eyes filled with a mix of emotions, but he didn't look away from Y/N. Then, a gentle smile crossed his face. "Y/N, are you serious? We're going to be parents?"

Y/N nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, Travis. I'm pregnant."

Travis leaned in closer, his face filled with emotion. "That's incredible! I can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she saw his genuine excitement. "I'm so glad you're happy, Travis. I was worried about how you'd react."

Travis took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, I couldn't be happier. This is a beautiful surprise, and I'm looking forward to this journey with you. We'll figure everything out together."

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She couldn't believe how supportive Travis was being. "Travis, you have no idea how much this means to me. I was so afraid to tell you."

Travis took her hand and said, "Y/N, I care about you more than I can express. In fact, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now." He got down on one knee, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears of joy as she nodded and replied, "Yes, Travis, a thousand times, yes."

liked by taylorswift, annehathaway and 23.366.133 others ynswift & killatrav you said I do and I did too

comments have been limited

taylorswift so happy for you both 🤍 and travis you better take good care of my little sister!

austinkingsleyswift congrats sis!

jason.kelce finally, you guys announced it! I couldn't stand not being able to talk about it anymore. congratulations lovebirds!

chiefs welcome to chiefs family y/n!

donnakelce I'm so happy to have you in the family now y/n! 💕

924 notes · View notes

celestie0 · 21 days

Text

choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

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teenidlegirl · 1 month

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please i just need a small lil fic of reader and miguel meeting at a baile/quince and just falling in love 🥹

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ omg this is so cute! just fyi to my peeps, i’m not taking requests but i’ll accept this one because it’s so cute!

you were invited to your best friend’s daughter’s quinceanera. the place decorated in pink, music playing from the speakers, delicious food being served, people dancing on the floor. the vibes are alive and everyone is having an incredible time.

while dancing with friends, you accidentally bump into someone with your back, or at least something sturdy because it felt like a wall.

“oh i’m sorry!” you cry, swiftly turning around to see whom you’ve bumped into.

“no no it’s alright. it’s my fault.”

the moment you lock eyes with the person you’ve bumped into, both of your eyes dilate immensely. standing before you is a man probably two feet taller than you. clad in all black, a dress shirt and a pair of slacks. a little gold chain with a small cross around his neck. broad shoulders and chest. dark chocolate locks that seem to be gelled back. he is undoubtedly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

him, on the other hand, is awestruck. he believes an angel is standing right in front of him. your big doe eyes staring into his own, utterly lost in them. the baby pink dress you’re wearing makes your appearance so enthralling, outlining your curves so graciously. his breath got caught in his throat.

you two just stand there, staring into each other’s eyes, completely lost in trance. it feels like time stopped or slowed down, everything else is a blur.

the dreamy moment ends when your best friend and her husband walk by, making you and the man snap out of trance in unison. she introduces you both. miguel is his name and turns out he’s best friends with the husband. what a coincidence.

you and miguel chitchat for hours, getting to know one another. turns out you two share several things in common, making the conversation more enjoyable. hours of smiling and laughing. he is so charming and you’re so loving. you’d never miss the way he would lean a bit closer or slightly tilt his head when you talk. miguel cherished that beautiful smile or the heavenly sounds of your laughter. gazing into each other’s eyes until the tension is unbearable that makes you both look away bashfully for a moment, heat rising in your cheeks.

when it was time to dance again, miguel stands up and asks if you’d honor him a dance. with a bashful smile, you gladly accept and make your way to the dance floor. your heart skips a beat the moment your bodies press together. his large hand enfolding your smaller hand ever so gently. your bodies sway in harmony, matching the rhythm of the music. getting lost in each other’s eyes once again. it feels like a fairytale, a princess dancing with her prince. the outside world, everyone else at the quince was completely forgotten as you and miguel sway together on the dance floor.

“estas hermosa.” miguel whispers in your ear, making you a blushing mess which makes him smile.

from afar, across the venue, your best friend observes you and miguel with a proud smile on her face. playing cupid tonight was a complete success.

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓕𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse

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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months

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GIRLIE I LOVED YOUR ATHENA DAUGHTER READER ‼️

also guess who’s back can i ask for a athena!daugter reader where it’s kinda like Annabeth trying to tell the reader that “hey clarisse is bad she tried to fucking kill percy she’s evil” and the reader us kinda tries to convince her that Clarisse really isn’t that bad😔

(i love your work girl and your end memes please do more 🔥‼️)

She’s the only one I got

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x daughter of Athena reader

An- fun-fact clarisse loves Dr Pepper It’s cannon Go read the sea of monsters. She’s literally perfect I can’t

An pt 2 - I Hope this is ok i wasn’t really sure what to write but it’s ok bc I’m just a girl

Pt 1 — Pt 2

Palestine aid link

“Are you serious?!” Annabeth yelled, a few of your other siblings backing her up.

You however were standing infront of the full length mirror inside your cabin fixing your outfit which was a pair of bellebottoms and a camp sweater. “Look Annie i get your our counselor and your the smartest out of us all but your not the smartest when it comes to relationships”

“And now she’s starting to sound like an Aphrodite kid” Malcom your brother rolled his eyes before returning to his book. You shot him a hateful look. “All right fine Your right I don’t get relationships like you but I do know clarisse”

“Really?” You sarcastically spoke just wanting the argument to be over. Grabbing some hoops you were deciding between the two different pairs. “Yeah, Clarisse is a hateful arrogant and rude person. She makes fun of our cabin with her siblings and didn’t she use to make fun of you to”

Deciding on the star shape hoop you put the earring in. “Fine! Fine ok I get it but I promise you clarisse is not like that ok she’s sweet, she loves me Annie why don’t you get that” you sighed facing your sister.

The shorter girl crossed her arms, leaning against a desk inside the studious cabin. “Because she’s a bitch”

“Language!”

“I’m 12 why are you giving me shit for cussing you cuss”

“Because I’m 16 you’ve still got two years before you morally can curse now stop.. damn about to make me get Luke” you sighed shaking your head. Facing back to the mirror you analyzed your look.

Annabeth rolled her eyes looking away for some time before facing you once again. “I still don’t trust you being alone with her..”

After finally having enough you turned towards the wiser girl. “Know what fine you can spy on us during our date today, then you’ll see she’s not such a terrible person and you’ll finally get off my ass… deal” you crossed your arms looking down at annabeth.

Your younger sister looked around for a moment feeling somewhat threatened by you before nodding in defeat. “Great” you sighed stepping back, grabbing a small drawstring bag and a book on the stars, you threw on your shoes before leaving.

——

You were sitting in a clearing in the woods, a blanket set out with some strawberries and a pack of Dr Pepper you bought from the Hermes cabin. Annabeth was positioned behind a tree with her cap of invisibility on.

Eventually clarisse showed up. “Five minutes late” you jokingly chastised her.

“Shut up I’m on time” she scoffed sitting down beside you on the blanket. Pulling you into her some she kissed you softly. Her hands finding themselves on your waist

Bringing yourself back you leaned over grabbing a soda, handing it over to the curly haired girl. “Mmhm so how was running around like a fool for the entire morning?”

Clarisse rolled her eyes taking the drink In a harsh joking manner. “First of all its called training and secondly it was actually alot of fun, how was staying up all night to just watch some stupid dots in the sky”

Scrunching your nose at the girl you gave her a sarcastic look. “Yeah you think your so funny huh”

“Yeah I do”

“Mmhm” you knew clarisse was looking at your lips— she wasn’t subtle about it. Tired of her just imagining it you leaned in kissing her again. The playful banter between you two faded away while clarisse deepened the kiss

As much as you wanted to makeout with your girlfriend you weren’t doing it infront of your sister. Pulling back you placed a hand on clarisses arm while darting your eyes to some trees around you with a smile.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows but made a signal to her head almost mimicking a hat. Nodding you knew clarisse understood annabeth was spying on you two.

“Whatever this is stupid” clarisse gave you a teasing look. “What being on a date with your girlfriend? Yeah it’s so stupid” you responded in the same tone.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not. What I meant” shaking her head you watched as clarisse reached over to her spear grabbing a plastic bag.

Handing it over to you you looked inside. “No way clarisse did you”

“Yeah I did. Your not gonna embarrass me about it if I own up to it” she continued to mess with you. Opening the bag you smiled as your girlfriend made you chocolate chip cookies with the nymphs in the kitchen. “Your the sweetest you know” you becoming flustered while you looked at the treats.

She just rolled her eyes with a smile, laying down clarisse moved around to lay her head in your lap. “Woah careful clarisse you might admit you actually like me a boring Athena kid remember”

“Mmhm Same can be said about you what was that about me being a bitchy ares kid?” She bit back. Flicking her forehead lightly just to get back at her.

You smiled while playing with one of the girls curls. You loved clarisse, wanting to proudly say it but worried you’d scare the girl off so for now you’d settle on just this.. cute dates with her, sneaking into her cabin to spend the night with her and just enjoying the silence with her.

After some time you knew annabeth had left after all she had gotten all the proof she needed. Clarisse knew it to.

“I love you” it finally left your lips. You noticed clarisses body tense making you regret the decision immediately. Clarisse however grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I guess I love you to”

“Shut up”

“Why You Said you loved me”

——

Annabeth - Fine she’s not a bitch

Y/n - ANNABETH!

—

Clarisse - *having a Stare off with annabeth*

Clarisse - do we have a Problem

Y/n - dude..

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo fandom

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perseephoneee · 4 months

Text

rest your eyes [castiel x reader]

synopsis: you can't sleep so castiel helps you

a/n: i am sick with covid and have been rewatching supernatural with my boo. castiel was literally my second crush ever, and i missed him so much, so i decided to write something (based on the fact i'm an insomniac who would totally sleep on an angel if offered)

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was supposed to go: hunting a monster in the woods and returning to some dingy motel that Dean found at the end of the day. Instead, the chase led you and the rest of the squad so deep into the woods that it was wiser to set up camp than try and trek back to civilization. The camp included a rock outcropping to protect from the weather, a shitty fire, and a lack of comfortable sleeping arrangements. Sam and Dean were used to sleeping on almost anything so they could pass out immediately. You, on the other hand, had insomnia sleeping in a regular bed and knew you were going to struggle to fall asleep with nothing more than the moss covering the ground.

Castiel didn’t sleep, so he was keeping watch. You had your jacket balled up as a pillow under your head, and instead of closing your eyes and trying to encourage rest in your body, you were staring at Cas through thick lashes. He looked up at the sky, a serene expression on his face like he was thinking about what each star meant. The light from the fire flickered across his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, even his cupid’s bow. Sometimes, you were struck by just how beautiful he was, like some Greek artists, the idea of the perfect man, sculpted to perfection and thrown at your feet for just you to enjoy. You wondered how you ended up so lucky to be blessed with his presence.

“Why do humans enjoy looking at the stars?” Castiel asks you in a soft voice to not rouse Sam and Dean. You should’ve guessed that he would notice that you were awake.

“I think…it’s nice to think about things far away from your own life,” you hum, giving up on your rock bed and sitting up, brushing leaves and other debris out of your hair. Cas looks at you, the blue in his eyes a shifting kaleidoscope from the dancing lights around you. “And the concept of stars is beautiful,” you sighed, curling your legs up and under. Cas tilted his head at that, brows slightly furrowed. It was your favorite expression on him.

“Stars are just clouds of gas and light,” Castiel answers.

“But they’ve traveled thousands of light years to reach us, even if they don’t realize it,” you smile, your eyes tracing the path of various constellations. You can feel Cas’ gaze, but don’t dare look over. Looking into Cas’ eyes is falling headfirst into an abyss you didn’t prepare for.

“I like that,” Castiel exclaims, a hint of a smile on his lips. “That’s a…human way of looking at it.”

“I am human,” you chuckle.

“Yes, you are,” he resumes, staring at the stars. It’s silent again; the only sound is the crackling of the fire and your breaths. Sometimes, the quiet is interrupted by Sam’s snoring, but you don’t mind. Your boys deserve the rest.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Castiel inquires.

“It’s hard for me to sleep, especially out here,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Castiel looks troubled by that statement like he is personally responsible for your ability to sleep. “When I was little, sometimes my Mom would put me in the car and drive me around in circles, singing or telling stories until I passed out.” You remember fondly, smiling a little to yourself. “I don’t think the ground is as comfortable as a car seat, though.”

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” Castiel asks. “If you need a pillow…you can use me.” He looks slightly uncomfortable, and the tips of his ears turn red, making you grin. He never fails to be adorable when he wants to be, and you know he’s offering out of the goodness of his heart. Still, the ID part of your brain is brainstorming all the ways he could profess his love for you, something that you stamp down as you shuffle over to him. He leans his back against one of the rock walls, stretching his legs out. He had already removed his trench coat, offering it to you as a blanket. It was large enough to swallow you and smelled precisely like Castiel in a way you wanted to remember for the rest of your life. You took your makeshift pillow and set it on his lap, laying your head there and curling up under his arm, which he hesitantly rested on your shoulder. You knew you had to coax your ever-beating heart to calm down if you were ever going to sleep, but it was hard when you were lying on the lap of an angel you had a crush on. Still, Castiel was a gentleman who didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.

“What’s your story?” you ask, voice small as you close your eyes and relax your body.

“Early before humans won the race for my Father’s next creation, there was a pool going on for what Earth’s next great invention would be…”

Castiel’s voice, in its low timbre, started to lull you to sleep as you listened to his story. You liked listening to him talk, and he occasionally added funny anecdotes that would make you smile. You started tuning out of the story, instead focusing on the warmth from his lap, the smell of the open air and him, and especially how his fingers had started to absentmindedly stroke shapes on your arm. Eventually, you were pulled into a deep sleep, lingering in that space where you were only slightly conscious but not awake. That space was the only way you could feel Castiel petting your hair, brushing his fingers down your scalp to your neck and back to your shoulder. Even in your dreams that night, you swear you could feel his weight everywhere.

You slept peacefully, without interruption, the whole night. Until morning, when the sound of voices roused you from your slumber.

“...did you get a girl in your lap?” Dean asked, sounding incredulous.

“She is not in my lap. She is lying on half of my lap,” Castiel answered, ever the stickler for exact estimates. You could hear Dean’s groan and sarcastic retort.

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep?” you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut and pushing your face more profoundly into your pillow-jacket-thing.

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, time to go hunting,” Dean called out. You let out a curse word, relaxing as you felt Castiel pat your head reassuringly.

“You are much more Sleeping Beauty than I am,” you responded, finally opening your eyes to the daylight but not making a move to get up. Eventually, you realized you’d have to move, so you begrudgingly sat up, cracking your neck as you did so. “Thanks for the story, Cas,” you said, averting eye contact with the angel to avoid him seeing the light flush on your cheeks. You gave him back his coat, and he kindly removed a twig that got stuck in your sweater.

“Did you sleep alright?” he inquired. You thought back to it and realized that for the first time in years, you slept through the whole night.

“Yeah, I… slept well.”

With that, Castiel smiled and helped you up. You were more alert on a hunt than you had been in a long time, all because a particular angel helped you achieve the best sleep of your life.

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #supernatural #spn #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #misha collins #my writing

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torhues · 1 year

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osamu miya.

"what do you think is the right way to ask someone out?" osamu's sudden question draws out your attention from your english assignment.

you take a moment to think, and while he thinks you're sorting out the most appropriate answers to his question, you're lost looking the answer to just one question that's plaguing your mind : should you tell him, or not?

"uh, who is it for?" you settle with the conclusion that he's asking that question out of curiosity. after all, you both are at an age where romance gradually becomes an integral parts of almost everyone's life.

out of all the years that you've known osamu— which is for around seven years for now— there has been only one time when you've seen him pursuing someone, and that was your best friend in middle school; and like the good friend you were, you helped the two of them confess to each other. you would walk to school and back, watching them holding hands, make plans without you because they were dating and it was understandable. you didn't mind, not at all, for you weren't in love with him at that point.

looking back now, you wonder if things would've turned out different if you hadn't helped your friend, or if you had realised your feelings a bit earlier. back then, you found it amusing to watch two people in love act like idiots, not knowing it'd all come back to you with a much larger impact.

"someone i like," he replies in his classic monotonous voice, as if he couldn't care less about not telling you who he has a crush on. it's exactly how it was back in middle school. had it not been for your friend, you wouldn't have known she was the one osamu had been planning to ask out all along. "goes to the same university as us, might even be in your biochem class,"

and your mind traces over the image of every single person in your class, crossing out the names that don't seem to fit osamu's taste in romantic partners. it's not the first time you're doing this. in fact, you've gotten used to figuring out whether he would be interested in someone just by looking at them. it's something you've learnt as you got better at hiding your feelings.

you've known him long enough to know who he might date yet still, couldn't bring yourself to believe that you could possibly have a chance with him.

"well, i can't tell you if i don't know the person," something about you makes osamu believe that you're a cupid. you're good at reading people, welcoming, albeit not so good at reaching out to strangers, but you are likeable, more than likeable, actually.

he has seen you set people up, including himself, and excluding yourself. the reason why you're not interested in pursuing someone anymore is beyond his comprehension. you have your fair share of knowledge about relationships, have dated a couple of guys before giving up altogether. it's not like your relationships didn't work, but it always seemed as if you were better off without them.

even while dating, it looks like your eyes are looking for someone else while being in someone's arms.

he sighs, putting down his phone. "just tell me what you like, people aren't much different after all,"

"uh, well, i hate public confessions and people who confess through calls and texts," which stands true for most the people out there. public confessions are more of a show off and confessing through texts is just, not enough. "also, i like to stay at home or be at some cafe so like, arcades, amusement parks and places like those aren't up to my liking either,"

you notice the smile on his face, along with the dreamy eyes and make him look prettier than he already is. frankly, the idea of osamu doing everything you like to ask someone else out hurts more than it should. you're probably not the only persons with those likes and dislikes. you know you should be happy for him and the person he likes because in the end, osamu is everything you, or anyone, could ask for.

"what about flowers? lilacs?" he asks, getting back to his phone.

"what are you doing, congratulating someone on their graduation?" his lips instantly curve into a frown, and you know in his head, he's snickering about how he is not the best when it comes to picking flowers, and that you shouldn't make fun of him for this. "i'd say tulips, they're a better gifts for first dates and confessions,"

one day, back in first year of university, osamu asked you why you don't seek relationships anymore. thinking about it now, you never gave him an absolute answer.

on some days, the answer would be academics, other days, it would be sadness looming over your shoulders after watching your ex with someone else. sometimes, you would excuse it by saying it's a waste of time and when asked when you're drunk, you'd say it's because you already have someone in mind, someone who can't be yours, no matter how much you try.

on some days, you wonder if osamu ever thinks about all the answers, or excuses, you gave to his question. there are times when the worlds makes compels you to believe that osamu likes you back, but then you realise that if he did, he wouldn't have asked out others all this time. you did drop hints regarding your feelings for him, and he failed to catch on for he for too busy looking at everyone except you.

"i wonder why you don't date anymore," the question arises again, flooding all the memories back into your head.

"i did have someone i liked, but he likes someone else," and you realise you can't lie to him anymore. "so, i gave up," osamu finds it amusing how you say those words with a smile, and he finds it despairing knowing that now, you've simply learnt to live with pain while pretending to be okay.

he shoots you a comforting smile, "i hope that wouldn't be the case for me,"

"me too," and you smile back.

he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket while offering soft apologies for the state your bed is in because of him. sometimes, you feel like there should be a warning for everyone who dates him : caution, this man doesn't know how to keep the bed clean. there are nights when you go to sleep thinking about how you're probably the only one who can keep up with this habit of his, and then wake up realising that it wasn't a problem to anyone it now so, it wouldn't be in future either.

it's like oscillating between the possibility and impossibility of him and you, caressing your little heart with false hope.

"ah, what should i say while confessing?" he shoots another question, making you snicker in annoyance.

"c'mon 'samu, you're not asking someone out for the first time,"

"just tell me,"

and you allow yourself to get lost in thoughts again. for a brief second, you consider telling him to not confess. the reason? your feelings, but again, you and him aren't meant to be together in the first place. it's just like how the saying goes— cupids must not fall in love— and you did the forbidden, knowing it would hurt you ten folds more every time you tie his threads with someone that's not you.

"i don't know, just give the flowers and ask if they'd like to go out with you or something," he chimes a faint thank you before leaving your room, and then your apartment. this time, you don't walk up to the door to see him off, neither do you wish him good luck, and surprisingly, osamu doesn't seem to notice your minute absence either.

it's fine, you tell yourself, one of you has to start getting accustomed to the other's absence. while the process has already begun for you, you hope osamu gets used to it as well. you need him to stop reaching you out for relationship advices because you don't know how long you can compose yourself before shattering once again. you try to distract yourself with essays due next month or even further, reading chapters that haven't been taught in class, reading research papers; just anything that can keep your mind off osamu.

you don't want to think about him, or what he's doing. maybe, he's buying the flowers, making preparations or calling his crush and asking them to meet him at their favourite place. even better if his crush confessed while he has been preparing a proposal of his own, it would be cinematic. you don't want to think about him at all, but the more you try, the deeper he engraves inside your mind.

the evening rolls by with you still sitting at your study desk with a bunch of papers lying around a not one complete work. there are rain splatters on your windows and you hope the off-season showers haven't ruined his confession. you can't wish for the other person to like him back, so you just wish for his happiness; whatever makes him happy, even if it means pushing him away.

and when you manage to drag yourself to the kitchen to grab something to eat and make yourself feel better, the sound of your doorbell hits your ears. the rain hits harder, you muster up the energy to walk up to the door.

there's osamu standing with a love sick smile and slightly wet hair, along with rain splatters on his shirt, and the bouquet of tulips in his hand. "will you go out with me?"

#♡ hues'.#♡ handmade.#this is not angst trust me #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #osamu fluff #osamu headcanons #osamu drabbles #osamu fic #osamu angst #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #haikyuu osamu

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y2kuromi · 17 days

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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗛𝗬𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦 : yuuta okkotsu x reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: the thin line between being friends and lovers is one you thought yuuta would never cross, until he does

contents: no curse au. a smidge of angst. fluff! mutual pining. kissing (how scandalous) maki and toge play cupid. second person pov.

it's early spring, the sun had long since set and the cherry blossoms were in bloom. pale pink petals drifted on your window sill as you gazed out the misted glass.

you were trying to focus on the paragraphs about active sites and substrates in front of you. you'd read the same lines over and over again without absorbing anything. your heart simply wasn't in it. you wanted to talk to someone, not just anyone. your best friend.

if you could even call him that with how distant he'd been over the last few weeks. the two of you had known each other for as long as you could remember and had always been inseparable, but that wasn't the case recently

he was almost a stranger when you talked, barely acknowledging you or any of your actions and his responses to your messages seemed detached when he bothered to text you back

you glanced down at your lock screen. streams of messages varying from toge asking you to play fortnite with him to maki telling you about the gossip she'd heard from nobara. but nothing from yuuta.

you exhaled loudly as you tossed your phone onto your dresser. you missed him but you wouldn't push it. after all, you didn't even know why he'd suddenly fallen off your radar.

you flipped through your biology textbook absentmindedly, skimming over detailed diagrams of organ systems and leaf cells. the words seemed to float above your head and your thoughts circled back to yuuta.

did you do something? no. that wasn't it. if you did maki wouldn't have been able to keep it from you. your mind raced, trying to figure out what could've caused so much distance between the two of you you're so engrossed in your thoughts that you don't hear your door creaking open

"hey" a familiar voice makes you snap your gaze up to find yuuta standing in your doorway. you're startled, undeniably so and for a second you think you've conjured him up. you blink once. twice he's still there.

"i hope you don't mind me coming over, your mom let me in" yuuta rambled "do you have minute to talk?"

you know you should tell him you don't have a slither of time for him. you know you should tell him to get lost. but you don't. because somehow every single thought you have is drowned out by his dark blue eyes.

"sure, i've got a biology test tomorrow but it's just on enzymes and transport in animals so i can study later"

"great!" he grins, shutting the door behind him. he pads softly over to your bed and sits cross-legged beside you. his smile turns more sincere as his blue iris meet your (e/c) ones. he watches you intently and you feel slightly self conscious under his scrutiny.

it's shallow, but you wish you'd opted for studying in a more flattering outfit instead of an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. it's stupid because yuuta doesn't seem to care about what you're wearing.

"what did you want to talk about?" you asked, closing your textbook and setting it down on your bedside table. a sick twisted part of you hoped he wanted to talk about the two of you.

it wouldn't happen, there was a line between what was left of your friendship and anything more that you and yuuta would simply never cross. you knew that. so you didn't understand why the words he uttered next had your heart shattering into tiny fragments.

"i've got a date tonight" he fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he spoke, blissfully unaware of how the words ate you alive. of how they chewed you up into a pulp and spat you out ruthlessly.

your smile faltered briefly, it was barely noticeable — you were quick to mask it with a wobbly grin. your throat suddenly felt incredibly dry as your gaze dropped to your hands. they were balled into fists as you dug crescents into the soft flesh of your palms.

"i asked this girl in my geography class out, you don't have any classes together so i'm not sure you know her...." he says, raking a hand through his dark hair. his voice sounded distant. as if someone else was speaking for him. like he wasn't really there

maybe you really were dreaming. you had to be. yuuta wouldn't do this to you, he couldn't be that cruel. you knew that. yuuta would never hurt you. you were his best friend, he loved you. his love was pure and blameless. it was anything but cruel ( it was everything but romantic )

"....she's really nice, i think you two would be good friends" he beams. it was slowly sinking in that he really had a date — a date with someone else. a date with someone who wasn't you. it stung.

you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy tugging at your heart strings. the twisted feeling was closely followed by one of guilt. it wasn't right to be jealous. you were just friends. that's all you'd ever been.

"i'm really happy for you" you say, the words dripped from your tongue slowly, deliberately — drenched in false sweetness and blind loyalty. he deserved to be happy , you just selfishly wished it was with you

"thank you" he says softly, dark azure blue eyes sparkling. the expression on his face was so warm. so familiar. you wanted to reach across and take his hand. to hold it tightly. to keep him close to you so he wouldn't leave again. but he wasn't yours. and you were sure he never would be.

"so...why are you here? shouldn't you be getting ready for your date?" the questions came out harsher than intended, but yuuta wasn't fazed. he's oblivious to the bitterness in your tone, he's oblivious to your feelings.

"i need your help" he admits sheepishly, "i've never been on a date before so i thought you could teach me the basics" the confession brings a slight flush to his cheeks and his fingers tap nervously against his knees.

you blinked once, twice and then shook your head lightly. you'd waited so long for him to notice your feelings. and now he was asking you for advice?

the universe was cruel. undeniably so. it seemed to be laughing at you. mocking you for thinking your best friend could ever view you in such a light even if you only dreamed about it subconsciously.

"let me get this straight" you sighed, rubbing your temples " you want me to teach you how to go on a date?" yuuta nodded earnestly, a small pink tint creeping across his cheeks

"yes please" he was so cute. so perfect. you couldn't say no to him. even though he hadn't spoken to you properly in weeks. you wouldn't say no to him. not now, not ever.

"there isn't much to say in all honesty, it'll come naturally to you so just be yourself. you're a really sweet guy yuuta, any girl would be lucky to have you" you felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes

you weren't lucky. you were absolutely, unequivocally, cursed.

"what if she wants me to kiss her? i've never kissed anyone before i'm kind of nervous about it" he said shyly, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he stared intently at your covers.

"i doubt it'll come to that" you murmured, "you don't have to kiss on the first date, it's better to take things slow"

"have you ever kissed someone on the first date?" yuuta asked curiously.

"that's a bit of a personal question isn't it?" you mused, "but i have" you reflected on the clumsy clashing of lips and wandering hands you'd experienced after mediocre first dates. nothing worth writing home about.

there were no sparks flying, no currents coursing through your veins. just unfeeling touches as you tried to find someone, anyone to fill the void. but they were never anything special. they weren't yuuta.

"can you teach me?" the question caught you off guard. he was staring right at you, those deep blue eyes searching your soul.he seemed nervous, unsure of himself.

"what?" you resisted the temptation to gulp audibly

"can you teach me how to kiss ?" he asks slowly, pronouncing each syllable carefully. like he was testing the waters to see how far he could get.

"kissing isn't something i can teach, it's just something you figure out besides how would i even go about teaching you how to kiss?" you rambled, wringing your hands in your lap.

"you could kiss me" yuuta suggested with a bright, hopeful grin, he held your gaze with unwavering intensity. his voice was unusually steady and clear.

"i can't do that" you splutter. the words tasted bitter on your tongue. yuuta's face falls and he's quick to avert his gaze.

"why not?" he sounds genuinely perplexed. it was a good idea, a great idea even. he didn't understand why you were so adamant about saying no.

"because, we're friends" you say the words through gritted teeth "and i'm not going to kiss you when you're going out with another girl. it's not fair to her" and it especially wasn't fair to you.

not when he'd ignored you for days— not when you were hopelessly in love with him.

yuuta stared blankly at you, brows furrowed in confusion as the words processed slowly in his head. you watched him, gnawing at your bottom lip. this sucked more than being ghosted. you wanted to cry. to scream. to do anything but deal with this.

"you should go yuuta" you said quietly, "you're going to be late for your date" you forced a smile which only served to make him frown even more.

"are you upset with me?" he asked anxiously. this wasn't supposed to happen. if maki's hypothesis was right, pretending he had a date tonight should've result in you blurting out a confession and ending this stalemate "i'm sorry"

"don't apologise" you sighed, "i'm not upset....maybe a little, i just think you should get going. it's rude to keep your date waiting"

maki's hypothesis was wrong. so wrong. he'd gotten his hopes up for nothing. it had taken him time to process his feelings for you, and he'd gone about it in confusing ways. this was a last ditch effort to fix things. and it was a bust.

he could see your friendship — his whole world — falling apart because of him.

he wasn't sure how to tell you that you consumed his thoughts wholly. that you were the first and last thing he thought of every day. that he couldn't envision a future without you. he was trapped by his feelings for you and he selfishly prayed the truth would set him free.

"there isn't one" he admits, " there's no date.. i lied so you would kiss me" his gaze met yours again, you blinked owlishly. none of this made any sense.

"you wanted me to kiss you?" you repeated incredulously. "why would you want that?"

"i don't know if you ever noticed but i'm in love with you" he says firmly, a serious look etched onto his features. your lips parted slightly, and your breath caught in your throat. "i needed time to process how i felt and being around you made that too difficult"

you sat in silence for a moment, trying to process what he'd just said. yuuta okkotsu was in love with you. not the girl from his geography class that he'd conjured up. you. you didn't expect to hear these words coming from him. never in a million years.

"i understand if you don't feel the same way. it's selfish of me to say such things after being so cold to you and i'm sorry i lied" his words crashed into each other," not that it changes anything it was maki's idea. i asked her if i had a chance and she told me this would answer my question—"

"why would you listen to maki?" you interrupted, bewildered. he shrugged, it had seemed reasonable at the time. though he should've been able to tell she had something up her sleeve from the glint in her gold flecked eyes.

"she knows you better than anyone and i was desperate because toge told me someone asked you out after school today and i was going to lose you if i didn't do something quickly" he confessed, running his fingers through his dark hair

"you've always had me" you said softly, this sweet, caring, innocent, adorable soul, had no idea how much you liked him. and it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

he lets out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. relief floods over his pale skin, the smile on his face is so wide it looks almost painful. "that's a relief"

"you had me fooled" you laughed, "maki'll thank you later, i was a few moments away from calling her in tears" it's a bit embarrassing to admit out loud, but honesty seemed to be the theme with both of you tonight.

"you care that much about me?" he asks hesitantly. it's almost impossible for him to believe it. you'd both placed each other on a pedestal, thinking that you weren't good enough for the other. but sharing the mutual understanding that you were better together

falling in love with your best friend was no longer deemed an unfortunate curse but a blessing "you don't know the half of it" you admitted, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

the lines between friends, and what you are now are blurred mosaic tiles that cloud your vision. yet all you can see is yuuta. he's yours. wholly. his beautiful smile and his kind heart, every inch of him.

the sound of his heartbeat filled every single inch of your brain. it drowned out the obnoxious ticking of your pochacco alarm clock, it drowned out the chiming of your phone — probably with texts from maki and toge — it drowned out the giddy feeling in your stomach as his blue eyes lingered on your lips

"can i get that kiss now?" he asks shamelessly. you can feel your heart hammering as his hands brush against yours. you nod silently.

you could feel yourself drowning in the oceanic pull of his eyes. the tides are threatening to pull you under. but yuuta is holding your hand and pulling you impossibly close to him until your noses brushed against each other softly and you could smell the spearmint and cherry blossoms lingering on him

you're not sure who closes the gap as your lips ghost over each others. it's tentative and hesitant but it feels right. he tasted like love, in every sense of the word.

he was different from the boys you'd gone on dates with. yuuta kissed you gently, with feeling. he kissed you like he meant it. that's all it took to make fireworks explode inside your chest. that's all it took to make you fall in love with him all over again

#ִֶָ 𓂃˖ mimi writes?!#⋆ 𝓳.jk ﹕#𓂃˖ letters from: yuuta #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #⋆ characterisation for this was TOUGH #a literal mess but #yuuta brainrot

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 1 year

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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS - Sensual Connections Pt.2

Pluto in the 8th house individuals need something raw and deep. They need to see you naked and im not talking about just taking off your clothes. When it comes to having a lover, need you to be on bored with wanting to connect vulnerably with them as this creates the most passionate sex/relationship there is. They'll take you deep to the underworld and back to earth, take you down to an ocean where its impossible to swim back up as your old self. You have to be willing to transform during this emotional act, because for them its more than sex. Its a portal to a new life.

Venus/Lilith individuals can and will be in a few relationships that are very taboo. They might be the ones to initiate these relationships first. These placements need lovers who will go the extra mile with them and will allow them to be themselves along the way. You cannot tame them, which makes their love a whole lot sweeter ;) There kink could be in beds where they come be the dominator. Or play the role as the submissive because who doesnt like a little cat & mouse ;) They need love that surrenders to the darkness of their soul, and releasing it as you both intertwine with each others shadow. They can show you a love that is raw, deep and penetrating and you probably leave a different person after being with them. Being with them is an adventure.

Sun/Neptune Venus/Neptune Individuals need a love like in the story books, Im talking candles in the room with rose petals everywhere. A love that feels like cupid just shot them in the back. They need to create a world for them and their lovers to exist in where no one can taint it. These are the type of lovers that would paint their lovers, or be the muse themselves.

Venus Scorpions need their lovers to feel every inch of them in their souls. They cannot have anyone who doesnt love them for them in their entirety. They need the good, bad, and the ugly when it comes to taking a leap further in all their sensual connections with their lovers. These scorpion babes need their lovers to be engulfed into their shadow, allow them to take in all of their nutrients as in the end it will make both of you stronger. Scorpion Venuses need you to obsess over them a little, may even want you to fight for their honor. This turns them on and lets them know that you truly wish to be their one & only.

Sun/Uranus individuals need someone whose different, and allows them to be different. Sun/Uranus people are always changing and they need someone who understand this. There love can grow stronger for you if you can take the journey of self-discovery with them. There kinks can go be a little different but their fun, Could be into the use of sex toys with their lovers because why nooooot ;)

Venus/Mercury Sun/Mercury Moon/Mercury individuals need an intellectual. Point blank period, a dead mind is a boring soul to them. They love to uncover the brains of their lovers as this is a turn on for them. Natural mind readers, they want a telepathic connection with their lovers. And want to be bonded with them were their is no secrets or no need to hide who they are. Need someone who sees the ins and outs of who they are, because their is so much that goes on inside of them that most people cant seem to notice.

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darkuselesssomebody · 2 months

Text

𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 - dark!raider!joel miller x reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader wants a valentine's gift, but Joel's not exactly her boyfriend

a/n || i'm so shocked i haven't written dark!joel before?? i love him, your honor. also, for the raider!joel concept, though overall popular for fanfic, i was personally super inspired by @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark. they both have fantastic raider!joel content, please check them out!!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them, this may be triggering content!

➵ technically ooc to joel in the show, but his dark past is hinted at so yeah

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ !! reader is held captive and is experiencing stockholm syndrome. other women to which the same this is occurring are mentioned !!

➵ dubcon sex

➵ unprotected sex

➵ manhandling

➵ controlling dynamics

➵ slight degradation

“you have to do something for her.”

joel wonders how, as his younger brother, tommy always seemed to be nagging him, instead of the other way around. his face pinches in a scowl.

"the fuck i look like? cupid?" he growls back at his brother, rifle sagging on one of his shoulders, forcing him to readjust. tommy rolls his eyes.

"ya even have john and michael doin' somethin' special for their girls." he reminds joel how the other men in the group, with their own souvenirs, at least showed their consideration of the humanity of these girls on valentine's.

"she probably don't even know." joel grumbles, and tommy snorts.

"oh, she knows what valentine's is. the other girls told her. said she'd have liked some clothes."

"the fuck she need clothes for, ya sayin' i can't dress my girl?" joel, ever defensive, hates being talked down to by his little brother.

he hates more the fact that she seems to tell tommy so much more about herself than she does joel.

"y'can dress her, joel." tommy sighs. "but it won't hurt if she wears somethin' other than yer crusty flannels once in a while."

joel rolls his eyes, but he, luckily, doesn't have to entertain the rest of the conversation. a deer rustles the branches of a tree in the distance. joel's a better shot than his brother, always has been. but he's also less agile. as he's about to shoot, his foot crunches on a stick.

the shot still hits the deer's back, but it's a far cry from the headshot he was aiming for. he swears under his breath, but him and tommy are both already stalking the wounded prey, the same glow of determination and predation in their eyes.

they were still family, after all.

she used to never be able to sit still. pre-apocalypse, that meant she was always either fiddling with something, reading a book, or talking but... in the past few years, it meant a lot more silent stimulation. it was okay, she got by counting petals of flowers to herself or tracing the veins of leaves with her fingers to keep her mind occupied.

but the one thing she'd never given up was company. she'd had family, or friends, in every walk of this horrible turn of events, until 6 months ago.

when she was snatched away from her cruel life by an even crueler man. stripping her of autonomy and privacy were mild in comparison to her loss of company. the only other people in the house leered or jeered in her presence.

she was usually locked away from them anyways. in a tall tower she couldn't even use her hair to escape from; kept captive for the satisfaction and pleasure of a bad, bad man.

that's what made her head spin, though. because he wasn't always. yes, he was always sullen, and scowling, rough around the edges and calloused in his touch. but he wasn't always bad.

he'd fixed the bathtub of the house they were squatting in so she could revel in warmth if he wasn't around.

he risked his life for a new pack of cards and even a few books so she could keep her occupied.

and he would sometimes press gentle kisses to her forehead when he slept beside her, unbeknownst to himself, and without realizing the effect he had on her.

when the other men had started getting antsy about her being the only girl around (with her obvious off-limits status), joel relented and let them bring back their own. it was to avoid mutiny and maintain control, sure, but... it gave her company, too. and that was important to her.

the women would confide in her. first, of their fears and then, of their growing affections for their own men. it made her happy, vindicated.

she wasn't alone in her stockholm syndrome.

she's looking at the flowers that michael got for jessica. it's almost comical, with that kinda man and their kinda relationship. but jess liked it - really liked it - and that's all that mattered. john had promised anna something too, which she was talking about as the front door opened.

a dead deer was carried in by the miller brothers, and then some of the other men helped bring it out back to the shed, where they'd scavenge enough to feed the group for the week. as she always does, she approaches and stands in front of joel, greeting him in a low voice. he regards her with a once over, nodding, before his head tilts incrementally up, signalling to his bedroom.

she nods shyly, retreating to the room on the upper floor as joel delegates some tasks, before coming up to join her. she's looking out the window - barred, 'for her protection'- and he finally speaks up.

"what did ya do?" he asks gruffly, referring to the events in his absence.

"played some cards." she smiles softly as she faces him, "talked to anna and jessica." that makes him grimace a little, and she's confused.

"what about?" she shrugs.

"stuff. john and michael are gettin' them things, i guess?" she says it unsurely, "they say it's for 'valentines'?" she says the word curiously, as if wondering if it was something the 4 had made up, or if it was a real celebration. his grimace worsens: he hates when tommy's right. feigning innocence, he continues,

"what's that, then?" she looks at the floor shyly.

"like... a celebration? of... relationships, partners, that sorta thing." it's vague, but it's all she knows.

"huh." joel doesn't continue it further, and he goes silent, as he looks around the room to change out of his dirty clothes.

she sits on the bed, watching him move around, and with every passing moment of silence, her worry grows. did she say something wrong? was he mad? what happened?

when he finally goes to join her, he manhandles her to face away from him. that only makes her more upset, and she feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, as she lays down, and he joins her a moment later.

laying behind her as she feels a tear roll down her cheek, he doesn't realize how upset he's made her: he'd only asked her to turn around so he could fall asleep with the scent of her hair.

she wakes up after he's already left.

she sighs, rubbing her eyes, that always ended up a little inflamed after she cried. there's a little wetness on her pillow, and she flips it so joel doesn't see.

tommy's downstairs, having saved a fruit for her breakfast. she takes it gratefully, cutting it up and fiddling with the bite-sized pieces.

there's something on her mind - tommy, he notices these things. he wished his brother would, too.

"he's getting supplies." he assures her, knowing what was agitating her. she snaps out of it.

"hmm?" she pops a piece in her mouth, sweetness exploding on her tastebuds as she bites into it, "oh. right, yeah." she realizes what he's saying, "didn't he just get some?" tommy shrugs.

"he likes to go out to the abandoned mall - it clears his head." that makes her squirm.

"is he mad?" she mumbles, and tommy pats her shoulder.

"at you? never."

it wasn't exactly true, she thought. he's gotten mad before: if she talks too much to the others, when she doesn't listen to him, or when she finds herself in danger.

tommy knows joel's not mad in those moments. he's just terrified of what could possibly happen to his girl.

after finishing her fruit, she curls up under the blanket upstairs, wanting some time to herself. humming a melody - she thinks it's one that the guys will sing in an off-key fashion when they get particularly drunk - she tries to occupy herself by counting each of the little plaster bumps in the ceiling, and then all the small flowers on the dingy wallpaper of the room.

she gets to 78 when the door swings open. jolting awake, she makes eye contact with joel, who's looking down at her form under the covers.

"somethin' happen?" his voice is less gruff than usual, and she shakes her head.

"nope. just waiting." she gives him a weak, shaky smile. he doesn't return, but he doesn't click his tongue in annoyance, either. it's a win in her books.

he's got a backpack, and it looks pretty full. she wants to ask what's inside, but she knows he'll tell her if he wants to. he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. she scoots over so he has space.

"let me see you." he instructs, and she sits up, crawling out of the covers. sure enough, she's wearing one of his flannels for warmth, and had slipped into a pair of his boxers instead of her otherwise nonexistent pajama shorts. he's silent for a long moment, before he brings his fingers to examine the material. goddamn, was it old, frayed almost everywhere, and the chest pocket had a hole. he sighs, finally speaking, "comfy?"

she blinks, confused, "huh?"

"'re ya comf'rtable?" he repeats, voice gruffer. she lets out a nervous exhale. was it a trick?

"ye-yes. yeah, i'm comfy." she assure, and he hums.

"heard ya want somethin' new." he finally looks her in the eyes, something he doesn't do all that often. she shuts her eyes, cheeks heating in embarrassment and worry. dammit, tommy, she thinks, knowing the younger man had told joel about her offhand comment on clothes.

"it's fine, i'm happy with this." she splutters out quickly, hoping she won't upset him. he sees right though it though.

"yeah, yeah." he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand, as he gets up. her heart clenches, wondering if he was really angry, when he reaches for the backpack, throwing it at her.

it's not an aggressive throw, and lands on the mattress beside her.

"open it." he instructs, and she swallows thickly, unsure what to expect. the zipper is a little worn, but she eases it open... only to find not only clean but colorful clothes inside. she looks up at him in confusion.

"what...?" and for the first time in a while, there's just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips.

"go try 'em on." he encourages. giddily, she beams as she gets up, taking the bag of clothes into the cropped bedroom. he slumps back on the bed, trying to will away his fatigue. it'd been a hassle to collect all the clothes - more so, to find clean one he thought she'd like - so he leans back, waiting for her to return.

she lays out the clothes on the cramped sink counter space, starting with a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, pairing it with a light blue cropped cardigan. she goes out to show him, an obvious pep in her step.

he looks up as she enters, eyes trailing up and down her body, including the way the outfit fits her curves, and the slight glimpse of midriff.

"don't you look pretty?" he drawls, and, though it almost sounds sarcastic with his hard features, a light smile plays on her lips. she tries on 4 other outfits she could make out of the 10 articles of clothing he got her, and he seems to like each one even better. sure, he'd taken the initiative to ensure all of them were a little revealing - he deserved an eyeful for his hard work, after all - but she seemed genuinely happy, and the bright smile on her face almost rivals the cleavage that she shows off in some of the outfits.

when she shows him the final outfit, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and she obliges, sitting beside him.

"happy?" he finally murmurs, pulling her closer by the hem of her pants, and she nods excitedly.

"very." she assures, softening, "thank you." she doesn't need to clarify her sincerity, as it pours out in her tone. he caresses her cheek with his calloused thumb.

"good girl. you make sure to tell the girls." she almost laughs, knowing she'd show off the gift in the same way jess and anna have been with theirs. he wanted it to be known that fucking michael and john couldn't treat a better than he could, "got one more thing f'r you." he pulls her so she's standing, procuring two more pieces of small fabric from his pockets.

she inspects them, eyes widening a little when she realizes it's lingerie. he glances back at him, and he has a brazen and unashamed glint in his eyes. she's about to make a joke that this one seems more a gift for him than for her, but refrains, obliging with a small nod of her head, and taking it to the bathroom.

she strips out of her clothes, pulling up the lace fabric. the panties are practically a thong, shaping her ass nicely, while the bra enhances and perfects the curve of her tits, a small, red bow in between the cups, matching the bow on the hem of her panties.

she looks hot, and damn, is his taste good.

going back outside, a noise escapes his throat - like a guttural growl. he signals her to turn, and she does, giving her an ample view of her ass. he grabs her by the hips as she does, and she squeaks, as he pushes her down on the bed.

"oh!" she gasps, trying to sit up, but he's on top of her in a moment, mouthing at her neck roguishly, a sloppy trail left in his wake.

her skin erupts in goosebumps, but she knows better than to touch him when he gets like this - his need for dominance forbidding it. her hands grip the covers to ground herself, as his lips trail downwards, cheekily biting the bow of her bra, and taking a nip of her skin along with it. she moans, jolting, and he slaps her thigh - but gently. he's not meaning to hurt her - and trust her, she can tell when he is.

"stay still." he hisses, finally parting from her torso to marvel at her, "good lord, gonna fuck you in all this, sweetheart." he mumbles, more to himself than anything else, as his hands cup her breasts framed in the bra, squeezing softly so as to not damage the material.

usually, he'd revel in pushing her down to choke on his cock, and, when he was feeling more generous, he'd go down on her like a ravenous man.

but he was a simple man, who had been generous enough tonight. and he wasn't putting her in a position where he can't see her in the whole get-up, so the blowjob was out too.

fuck it, he thinks, reaching for the belt of his pants, i need her.

she gets up to help him undo his pants, but he forces her back into laying down, "wanna see you." he grumbles, finally undoing his pants. already hard, he palms his cock, eyes rolling back, "fuck."

he lowers again to shift the slit of the panties to the side, exposing her arousal, swiping his fingers through her mess, making her bite her lip. he wipes it gently on her cheek - a wholesome act, with a backdrop of degradation and depravity. he presses a soft hiss to the bow on her panties, making her shiver, before rising to his full length.

"you want it?" he grunts, as he strokes his cock, adjusting so it's lined up. she whimpers, as he's prolonging both of their suffering just to highlight her need for him. pathetically, she nods, and he laughs - barking and cold. "i can't hear you."

"yes!" she gasps out, unable to hold back anymore. he smirks in satisfaction, shifting his hips forward to bottom out in one stroke.

she cries out, eyes rolling back and head lolling onto the mattress, trying desperately to adjust to the stretch. he doesn't have that same decency, animalistically beginning to move his hips.

a squeal gets caught in her throat, and she cave to her instincts, gripping the wrist of the hand he's holding her waist with, squeezing as an indication of not her pain, but her pleasure.

thankfully, the adjustment was quick, and her surprised squeaks morph into pleasured moans, as he grunts on top of her, eyes raking the way that her tits try to bounce in the confinement of the bra. unusually, he's not annoyed by her touch, and it only makes him move more aggressively, as he can tell what makes her pleasure increase - as she'll squeeze his wrist harder.

"who's making ya feel this good?" he growls, "who takes care f'ya, sweetheart?" she chokes, garbled, broken moans escaping her.

"y-you!" she manages to gasp out, "o-only you, no one else, you - you take care of - of - oh, fuck!" she squeaks, feeling the pressure of her orgasm, "gonna - can i please - please-?!" she begs nonsensically, but he understands her - of course he does. she's his girl, after all.

"cum, sweetheart." he assures through gritted teeth, "who's making you cum?"

"y-you-" she cuts herself off with a cry as she cums, body stilling and legs trembling, as he continues to thrust and she rides out the orgasm.

he follows right after her, the squeeze of her cunt around sending his body into overdrive. collapsing on the bed beside her, the two remain silent for a minute to catch their breath.

finally, he clears his throat, getting up, and pulling her up, too. "go, clean up." he instructs, voice less gruff and softer, asking her to do something for her own good as opposed to his, "then change. don't think i can do another round right now." he knows that if he sees her in the outfit for longer, he'd get hard again.

with a woozy head, she does as he says. when she changes, though, she decides against the clothes that he bought her. she loves them, of course, but their either too coarse or flashy for night-time wear.

besides, they don't provide the precise comfort of stability that the flannel and boxers she puts on again does. though she tells herself she's not sure why joel's clothes seem more comforting than the new clothes, she's lying.

she feels more comfy in them because they smell and feel like him.

he's already knocked out when she exits, sleeping on his side, having evidently left the perfect amount of space for her to curl into his side, pulling his arm over to cradle her.

she knew he would always take care of her.

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #valentines 2024

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modanisgf · 19 days

Text

APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN

☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.

☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity

☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)

☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is

☆ WC— 1.5k

MASTERLIST

if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.

yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.

you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.

one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.

“hello?” you say, yawning.

“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.

“yunjin?” you say, confused.

“why are you calling me this late?”

“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”

“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.

you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.

finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.

the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.

pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.

“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.

“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“why are you laughing then?!”

“you’re so cute.”

yeah, you hated how good your memory was.

yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.

you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.

"where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.

“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.

“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.

“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.

your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”

“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.

“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.

“huh?”

“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.

the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.

she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.

yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.

the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.

“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.

“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.

“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.

“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.

yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.

“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”

you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.

“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.

“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.

why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.

“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.

it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.

“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.

“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.

she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.

“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“

“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.

yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”

“we weren��t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.

“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.

“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.

“i’ll never forget that night.”

“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”

“i’m cupid.” she finishes.

“cupid?”

“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.

“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?” you ask.

yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.

“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.

“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.

“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”

“can i hold you before you go?”

“please.”

the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.

you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.

‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.

you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.

wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.

you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.

#le sserafim #huh yunjin #lesserafim yunjin #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #wlw #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop writing #kpop x reader #kpop #yunjin huh

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

Ocean Eyes

Buggy x FemReader

Fluffy McFuff Fluff CornyFest 🌽

Wanna feed me some Marshellow Fluff?

On nights like this, when the sea was still and the crew hidden in their quarters to avoid the cold you and Buggy rested- hidden in a pocket of warmth deep within the many rooms of the ship warm like the desert and more then then even cupid could muster.

Buggy laid in your lap, listening to you hum a soft tune while reading- his hand resting on your growing baby bump as he felt the movement of his child just below your skin.

It was on nights like this when the Captian could just let go- wipe away the mask of a clown and simply indulge in the love of his wife. But it was also without that mask that the insecurities in his heart would creep to the surface.

"Doll-" He hummed, Snapping you from the pages as you look to your partner. Now turning tk face your rounded stomach as he let his fingers rub pointless circles in your skin.

"You... don't regret choosing me right?" He hummed softly, that insecurity laid in his voice heavy. You running your fingers through his hair and setting your book to the side.

"Never, You are one of the best things to happen to me" You say with a smile, seeing the shadow of insecurity starting to fade.

"Truly Doll?" He say playfully, clearly now just trying to tease. However you knew him too well and grinned.

"There are no single word in this world that can describe how much I adore every part of you and have no regrets" You say genuinely, Buggy smiling at this as this seemed to satisfy him.

"But for my flashy husband I can do a poem!" You say with a chuckle and wink, Buggy rolling his eyes at your antics. Of course you would be as flashy and over the top as him- especially deciding to recite a poem.

"Oh Gods I take back my question-" He cackled as you waved him off, already in the mood.

"Too late, it's poem time" You laugh, Buggy snorting back a laugh as you wiggled your way to sit up more fighting with gravity of your stomach.

"A poem about my Husband Buggy, to explain why I'm so lucky!" You say making the man shake his head in second hand embrassment.

"My love please no-" He said trying to be respectful in nor laughing in your face.

"First Your hair is like the sky, I am jealous I can not lie"

Buggy bit back more giggles as you winked and ran your fingers through his long hair as to exaggerate your point.

"Chin and jaw so strong it should cut logs, and cheeks like roses that can not be opposed~"

"That didn't rhyme- Buggy pointed out as he listened to your made up ballet.

"Not all poems rhyme all the time im making this up on the fly-" You shot back just as quickly, clearly making up the poem as you go. Buggy laughing so hard tears came to his eyes.

"You're eyes are like the ocean, so true and clean. Whenever I see you I fall to my knees"

"That's how we ended up here-" He laughed pointing to your rounded stomach and you playfully slap his chest. But he gently holds your hand close and kisses it, His eyes swimming with awe at you like you were the most beautiful person in the world.

"For your heart hold the riches more valuable then gold-"

You say sweetly, running your thumb over his stubbled cheek with your free hand. Buggy leaning in and placed a kiss on your lips gently, his hand resting on your hip as he smiled with pure love written on his face.

"And I can't wait for what our future holds"

He whispered softly finishing the poem for you, kissing you again which made you giggle against his lips him smiling as well as the two of you held each other. In that room in the darkness of night a warmth could be found that no one knew about.

A real treasure that no one knew about.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one peice live action #one piece #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy thoughts #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown

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killedpink · 1 year

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이 펠릭스 | come as you are.

🎧 masterlist !?

💭 synopsis: after a confrontation with your least favourite person on campus, you realise your grudge had been based off of nothing but an error. with no reason left to hate felix, you decide to fuck him instead — it's not like your relationship could get any messier.

🎤 word count: 11.4K

📂 contains: dom felix / sub reader, enemies to lovers, miscommunication, college au, mentions of other members, possessive felix, flirting, alcohol consumption, lowkey grunge felix, mentions of virginity, hookup culture, jealous felix, aggressive mutual pining, wet dreams, masturbation, angry sex, hate sex, car sex, spit kink, hair pulling, a lot of marking, multiple orgasms, oral sex, unprotected sex, cum consumption.

it was no secret of your distaste for felix lee, rolling your eyes every time you heard his baritone, sultry voice. you scowled at him at every chance you got. and most importantly you avoided him as best you could, like he was the plague, tuning out any conversation where his name would be brought up, loitering in your class just a bit too long to avoid crossing his way on campus.

if you had to describe your relationship with him using a singular word, it would be trivial. you brought no benefit to him and he to you. so how was it you always caught him staring? why was it you dreamt of him, in erotic situations and in heart-fluttering, butterfly-in-the-stomach inducing ways? so why was it you woke up one particular morning, with an uncomfortable stickiness between your legs, your hair a mess and your face burning — all the while with felix lee’s name in your mind. you thought about him, brain teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness. you thought about him in detail, his soft pink lips with that sharp cupid’s bow, his even softer hair like black smoke through your fingers, his pixie ears adorned in earrings, his almond shaped eyes with his dark bronze eyes that very often looked like obsidian when it was starved of light, and his warm, tanned skin that made the freckles littered on his face look even darker.

you let your mind wander, imagining how felix would sound above you, how he would smell, what he would say — so much so, that you had actually forgotten about your vendetta against the man, that you wore so proudly on your sleeve anyone would think you were a paid actor if they saw you that morning. your hands were between your thighs, manoeuvring your underwear from your sex, slick with your arousal, your fingers stroking your slit and smearing your aching clit with your slick. a small, content sigh left your mouth, cheek nuzzling against your pillow with your eyes closed blissfully. your eyes grew wide. you were not thinking about felix. that was not happening. you shrugged yourself off, springing out of bed and feeling straight towards your shower. a feeling of disgust settled in your gut, disgust with yourself for thinking about him and disgust towards the man of the hour himself. he was too arrogant, too sure of himself, and way too serious to ever, ever get with you. when pigs fly, sure. not a moment sooner.

considering that was the start to your day, you figured it could only go up from there. wrong.

felix was in a special mood today, finding any opportunity he could to make conversation with you or just exist near you. it was maddening. for the usual reasons, of course, but because you couldn't stop yourself from wondering how he was in bed. was he gentle or harsh? was he vocal, like how he was annoyingly chatty? whatever you tried to do to appease this insanity in your head, he was always one step ahead. always right behind the corner you were turning, or in front of you in the line to return whatever library book you convinced yourself you'd read. with every growing second you lost your patience, your sanity and your decorum. you were irritated, so much so you didn't even converse with your friends in the café nearby.

"so, are you all going to the party tonight?" what? you looked up from your mostly empty cup, "what party?" hyunjin laughed, of course he did — it was hyunjin, "the hottest party of the semester. keep up!" he wasn't serious, just a testy asshole. your eyes narrowed, "and why would i go to that?" it wasn't uncommon for you to attend parties, tending to show up for a few hours before getting bored and leaving, or being roped into driving the drunks home early because they couldn't walk straight. but you tended to stray from huge gatherings — there wasn't much to do unless you wanted to catch several sexual diseases. which, you didn't. hyunjin, ever the martyr, rolled his eyes at your response. "because i'm going, so im going to need my token virgin friend to come, too." your eyes went wide, mouth opening in a mixture of offence and shock. "hyunjin, i'm not a virgin — not that my sex life is any of your business — thank you very much."

"yes, you are." seungmin joined, matter-of-factly turning to you; seemingly taking a sudden interest in your conversation. hyunjin couldn't contain himself, letting out a loud cackle that drowned out amongst the busy chatter of the afternoon rush hour café. "why do you all care so much? if you're into me you can say, you know." you deflected, setting down your finished and now empty china cup. "we just don't like it when you get cocky and think you can lie to your best friends." hyunjin grinned. fuck him. "fuck you, man." you crossed your arms, collecting your things to start leaving. "anyway, i gotta go, see you assholes later." you stood up, slinging your bag on your shoulder as you looked at your friends still sat at the table.

"later? you're going, then?" seungmin caught on, of course. when did anything get past him? you sighed heavily, "yes, i'll go. because im nice and i know one of you are bound to get blackout drunk." hyunjin chuckled dryly, aware it was aimed at him, "not because a certain someone will be there?" he looked up at you. scowling, you answered quickly, "i don't care if felix goes – its not like i'll talk to that asshole." he raised a brow, "who said anything about felix?" you blinked, stunned. "oh whatever, fuck all you guys." you walked out quickly, determined to hide your deteriorating composure from your relentless friends, their laughter following you outside.

it was a house party. a very nice house, as a matter of fact. it was incredibly spacious, even when it was filled with probably a few hundred drunken college kids. the music was loud, so loud it reverberated in your bones, feeling the bass notes in your entire body, unwillingly thrumming along with the beat of the music. people were crowding around each other, yelling loudly in excitement and laughing over something that would probably be mundane if they were sober. although finding the location hard to navigate through, you had spotted hyunjin easily, noticing his bright red hair a mile away, even in such dim lighting. "have you had anything to drink, yet?" he asked you, a cup of whatever liquor he could find in his non-dominant hand. you shook your head, "i want to stay sober, i'm driving." hyunjin raised his brows at this, "what's the fun in that? live a little." he urged, elbowing you softly in your side. "hyunjin, i am driving." you repeated, level-headed. he only wanted you to relax, you knew that, but you wouldn't risk yours and others' safety for a night you won't remember and a pounding headache the next day. he shrugged, "you're no fun." he pouted, taking a gulp of his drink. "yeah, whatever. go ditch me to chat up some girl." you shooed him away, watching with a smile on your face as he left your company and scanned the huge room for a girl who looked somewhat sober.

"it's nice to see you here." your eye almost twitched. "what do you want, felix." you deadpanned, giving him an unamused look, glaring at him through your lashes. he chuckled, his chest moving from his stupidly attractive laugh, "aren't you chipper?" for fucks sake. "i'm not interested, felix. fuck off." it was so hard remaining indifferent, because no matter how annoying he was you still couldn't deny you were attracted to him. his brows furrowed slightly, "then i'm just going to have to convince you otherwise." you hate him. you hate him and his australian accent. you hate the way his hair falls on both sides of his head, giving him a halo effect because he was so fucking far from being angelic. you hate how persistent he was, you hated how easily he shook your insults off. you hated his smirk, you hated his obnoxiously loud laugh; everything about him irked you.

so why were you following him to the kitchen, your eyes boring holes in his toned back, but following where he went nonetheless. felix handed you a glass cup filled with a clear liquor, catching the light that hung above the both of you and reflecting it back to you. "cheers," he spoke, his voice smoky in such a unique way it gave you shivers. you held the glass rim to your lips. vodka. good vodka at that — someone here had taste. what happened to staying sober? how are you getting home, now? why on earth are you listening to felix? he grimaced at the taste, sharp and bitter on his tongue, no doubt. the warm, spicy aftertaste caught you off guard, urging you to take another sip to combat it.

felix leaned the outside of his forearms on the countertop, putting most his weight on his elbows as he stared at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. "what?" you asked, setting your drink down to your right. his blank face didn't last long, an amused smile quickly being presented to you, his gaze falling to the floor for a moment, "nothing, it's just, well, i think this is the longest conversation we've had with each other in.. what? two years?" he pondered. you scowled, "and whose fucking fault is that?" you barked, after taking a much needed gulp of your drink. felix's eyes widened, "i didn't mean it like that. fuck, 'm sorry." he winced, giving you what seemed like a genuinely apologetic look. fuck that, you're not falling for his act again. you shook your head, hand swiping at your half-drunken drink, preparing to leave without exchanging another word. that is, until felix's silver ring adorned hands rest on your hips, caging you in and suddenly inches away from your face. your spine straightens — from this proximity you can see his dilated pupils below his deep brown eyes. you blink, guiding your own gaze away from his. "what did i do to make you hate me?" he muttered, his eyes searching yours for any giveaway of your emotion. you swallowed thickly, feeling your palms grow clammy.

"you didn't pick up, felix. it's cruel to make me say this to you.." you answered, emotion catching in your throat against your will. it seemed two years worth of upset caught up to you in a single moment, surrounded by most of your drunken peers. your hands bend behind you, grabbing onto the island you were caged onto, desperate to hold onto something to appease your racing heart. felix's brows knitted together, his eyes narrowing, "i didn't pick up..?" you were in disbelief, "are you fucking serious? you don't even remember what happened?" your heart felt as it it was being crushed, blinking any obvious sign of tears away from your likely glassy eyes. felix's gaze softened, "hey.. don't cry. i'm sorry for being such an idiot," his voice was gentle, caring almost. "after that night i called you and you didn't pick up. i really thought we had something special, but i guess not. now, let me go." you said, though gritted teeth. felix looked as if he didn't follow. was he that unbothered? "you didn't call me back. i didn't hear anything from you for days and when i tried talking to you.." he licked his lips, deciding on the right words, "you've been like this ever since." he muttered, the tips of his ears reddening.

your eyebrows lowered, jaw clenching. "yes." you paused, "i fucking did." you urged. "i wouldn't lie to you about this — you didn't call me." felix answered. how was he that sure of himself? you were done with this, with felix, with this fucking back and forth conversation as if you were fucking fourteen. your hand went to your back pocket to pull out your phone, ignoring felix when he asked what you were doing, determined to scroll back in your contacts to show him the phone call he's so sure he didn't receive. you'll fucking show him. "what's this, then?" you presented your phone screen to him, watching as his expression turned from confused to shocked. thought so. "that isn't my number." he looked up, eyes locked onto yours. "what." you deadpanned, in disbelief. did you seriously hold a two year grudge over a wrong number? felix couldn't help the laugh that escaped his pink lips, his nose scrunching up and his body physically rocking from the strength of his chuckles. lost for words, you followed his lead, letting your own defeated laughter hit your ears. you put your phone away, hand coming up to hold your mouth as your laugh died down.

"i'm such a fucking moron." you shook your head, mildly embarrassed and partially relieved. "on the bright side, at least i'm not an asshole who won't return phone calls," felix's hand released the grip on your waist, moving to run through his hair and brush it out of his eyes. you chuckled dryly, "lucky you," the smile on your face was undeniable, a weight being released from your shoulders. although the incident was imaginary water under an imaginary bridge, you still harboured those volatile feelings of hate towards felix. maybe it was because you were drunk, or because you still remember how he bothered you non-stop for months? you weren't sure. you looked him up and down, he'd changed a lot. and in a good way, too. he gained a bit of muscle, and let his hair grow out like you suggested that night many months ago. he looked good, you had to admit that you wanted him all over again. he'd changed so much you're sure he's improved in bed, too.

"there you ar— oh?" both of your heads darted to see hyunjin, stumbling and flushed and hair a mess, his jacket gone and his shirt no longer tucked in. suddenly aware of your compromising position, felix stepped back and let you move, going over to hyunjin without a second word. oddly enough, you were displeased that you no longer felt his hand on your hip, steadying your body and warming you up at the same time. "you need a ride home?" you asked, pressing the backs of your hands to his red hot cheeks. he nodded slowly, a grimace on his face. "get seungmin to do it, i've been drinking," you explained, leading him out of the kitchen to where you knew seungmin would be. "is that why you were actually talking to felix? as in: your mortal enemy felix? as in: the man who we all know you have a thing for felix?" hyunjin all but taunted. you felt blessed when you saw seungmin's brown mop of hair, bobbing as he threw the ping-pong ball into the cup on the table. "take him home, will you?" you motioned to hyunjin, who was bouncing a stray ball on the table rather unceremoniously. seungmin raised a brow, "i thought you were driving?" you huffed, "yes. well — no, i-i mean, i was supposed to, but i've been drinking, so i can't." you spluttered. he nodded slowly in understanding, "don't worry, it's good you're finally letting loose." he smiled at you, before turning to hyunjin, "come on, you drunk."

and with that, you were alone once more. until you weren't. "are you playing in seungmin's place?" jisung asked you. he and you weren't exactly close, but you shared a few mutual friends and the same literary class a year back. you shook your head, a dopey smile on your face, "ah, no, sorry, i'm no good at beer pong." you explained with a small shrug. jisung gave you a quizzical look, "so what? c'mere, play with me and i'll show you," he moved to the side, giving you room to squeeze in. figuring you have nothing better to do, you press your side against his, noticing the way his free arm snakes around your waist. you had never been this close to him before, but he was actually quite cute. he had chubby cheeks, rounding out his face and making his eyes look even softer and bigger, his skin was bronzed and warm, and he had a habit of puckering his pink, round lips when he concentrated. once it was your turn, you scooped a ball in the palm of your hand and held it up to the opposing side's cups. they didn't have many left, but your team was still in the lead. jisung's hand wrapped around your wrist, helping you line it up with changbin and minho's two remaining cups, his fingers brushing against yours as he muttered in your ear how to throw it to ensure a win.

it was actually thrilling, watching the other team discuss the best technique to land a ping-pong ball into your cup, despite how boring you initially assumed it was. you felt your heartbeat quicken when they missed all three chances, now up to you and jisung to land their last cup. once more, he pressed himself into your back, feeling his bulge against your ass and his breath on the nape of your neck, the palm of his hand climbing up your extended arm, adjusting your position and murmuring words of encouragement in your ear. he gave you butterflies; intentionally or not, they were there and mixed with the alcohol in your system, you felt fucking invincible. when you actually landed the ball in their cup, you were overjoyed. you and jisung triumphed, holding onto each other and jumping frantically while changbin and minho groaned in dismay. jisung's lips were on yours. he was kissing you. and you kissed back. he was good at it, too, his lips were warm and wet from the beer. you broke apart, wide eyed and breath frantic.

"do you wanna dance?" jisung asked, his voice uncertain, breathy and so fucking cute. you weren't entirely sure, but you realised you had nothing else to do. shrugging, you took his hand in yours, "why not?" you smiled, noticing his black painted nails. it was hot, you couldn't deny that, your grip on his hand tightening at the thoughts running rampant in your borderline tipsy mind. he beamed, his round lips parting to let his white teeth peek through his pink mouth. the impromptu dance floor wasn't too far away, being in the centre of the house and surrounded by crowds of people. you couldn't tell what the song was exactly, but it had a latin feel to it, heavy on the electric guitar and fast paced, yet still erotic enough to get your body moving sensually. jisung stood behind you, his hands on your waist, pinky fingers touching the swell of your hips, holding onto you as you swayed from left to right, your own hands holding onto his arms, painfully aware of the curve of his bicep and the bulge of his veins.

you felt every inch of him, his toned chest flush against your back, his pelvis rocking into your ass each time you rolled and danced to the music. you twisted in his arms, face to face with each other, the both of you grinning like idiots, every sense of logic lost in his doe eyes, noticing the way his warm, bronze skin glowed in the dim lights. you let him sway you, your hands resting above his shoulders, not so subtly fondling his bicep muscles. his face angled down to look at you, his wet lips catching your eye, leaning into his already tiny bubble of space to press another kiss to his lips, in which he happily returned, his lips lining up with yours perfectly. as if on cue, the song ended, and the both of you were too spent to dance much longer.

despite kissing him, jisung didn't make anything awkward — it didn't feel awkward, either. it just happened in the heat of the moment, and the both of you were completely fine with that. there was no need to rush out embarrassed, nor to kiss him again and try making a night out of it. the two of you broke apart, going your separate ways, while you sat on the staircase to see if seungmin would come back. you hoped so, considering he was great company to have when around drunk people, and he left his jacket here, so you wanted to be sure he wasn't coming back when you took it home with you to return to him the following monday morning. "what the fuck was that about?" your head turned to see felix, hair in his face and an obvious frown on his lips. "what was what about?" you answered, eyeing him warily. he scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking back at you. "is this how you're gonna play it?" your brows furrowed at this, "i don't have time for this. communicate your feelings like a normal person or fuck off somewhere else." you turned away from him, focusing on the car pulling up outside, hoping it was seungmin. "why are you kissing and dancing with jisung?" felix asked pointedly, voice stern and unyielding. he had some fucking nerve. "because i can. is that all?" "no, that's not all! i thought we had something?" "no, we had sex. one time — two years ago, felix. i'm not yours and i never was."

the distance between the both of you shrank drastically, felix's frame towering over you as he looked down at you. a shiver crawled up your spine, unable to look away. "we'll see about that." you wanted to kiss him. you wanted to shut him up, make him want you the way you wanted him. instead, you shook your head and looked down, "you're too late, felix." you weren't trying to argue this time, your voice soft and certain. his body came into view, kneeling below you as if he were worshipping you, his eyes soft and his face inches away from yours. his hand cupped your chin, urging you to look up, which you did. "better late than never." he spoke, voice raspy and husky as he whispered like a prayer fell from his plump, sharply carved lips.

you leaned into him, your mouth by his pierced ear, just about brushing on the cool metal spiked earrings he wore. "felix," you breathed, completely taken by lust for him to think logically. fuck this party, fuck seungmin's jacket, and most importantly fuck felix. with the proximity, you heard his breath hitch and you saw the way the hair on the back of his neck stood up from your warm breath on his skin, a sharp contrast to the cool, silky black leather jacket he sported. "i know, love." he stood up, "c'mon, we're getting out of here." he walked down the few steps backwards seamlessly, making it look easy. your body was on autopilot, following felix out like a moth to light. he held the door open for you, watching with a triumphant smirk as you walked out the door, leaving the party behind you.

an involuntary shiver creeped up your spine once your body hit the chilly midnight air, goosebumps erupting on your skin and cringing at the feeling of the breeze passing through you. felix moved to stand in front of you, shielding you from the wind, shrugging off his jacket and guiding it on your shoulders, where it sat heavily. you could smell him on it, the musky scent of smoke and cinnamon on his leather jacket, making you crave him even more. his hand fell at your hip, guiding you to his sleek, black aston martin. you narrowed your eyes once you were seated comfortably, "where are we going?" you asked, pulling his jacket tighter around your body as the cold seats hit the bare skin of your legs. felix didn't even look at you, instead focusing completely on the deserted road, "nowhere," he answered, speeding up, feeling the engine purring in your body.

why did you fucking agree to this? is that all it takes to get you in a car? some deep voiced, australian man with a leather jacket and earrings? shame burned in your veins, along with a deadly shot of uncertainty and lust. if by some miracle you're not going to get murdered tonight, you're sure you're never talking to felix again: wrong number or not. you arrive at some abandoned parking lot, surrounded by hundreds of rows of empty car slots and concrete pillars. in the middle of the night. felix unbuckled your seatbelt for you, watching you silently. he wanted you to make the first move? that's new. "why did you bring me here, felix?" he turned away from you, his head tipping back to lean on the headrest, his face towards the ceiling, his black hair cascading down the sides of his head, kissing the tips of his ears while the hair at the nape of his neck curled inwards towards his collarbones. "i love the way you say my name." he muttered, the alcohol in his system causing him to slur more than usual, despite his lazy australian accent doing most of the work. he knew just what to say to make the words in your head die in your throat, mind vacant and fuzzy from the cadence alone of his sultry voice. god, you hated him.

he sighed slowly, "i drove you out here because i didn't want you at that party," felix's eyes lazily opened, staring holes into the interior's ceiling. "what?" you turned in your seat to face him, "why not?" you added, eyeing him intently, trying to read his body language. he was so aloof at the worst times, as if he intentionally wanted to confuse you, always leave you second guessing. felix took a deep breath in, "i was jealous of jisung." he admitted, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. your brows creased together in disbelief, "why are you jealous of jisung?" you pressed. felix turned to you, his hands falling on his thighs, spread so wide his knee was inches away from yours. "because it took him a few fucking kind words to get you sucking faces with him." he hissed, jaw clenched. you were left speechless. he huffed, exasperated, "you drive me crazy. you're fucking maddening," felix emphasised, sitting up straight in his seat. you rolled your eyes, "i'm so tired of this. i'm so tired of you!" the emotion was gathering in your voice, tears welling up in your eyes. "felix! you need to stop this. you're not in love with me, you just want to fuck someone and i'm the only girl still stupid enough to believe you a second time." your voice broke, furiously wiping the angrier tears from your eyes, refusing to compromise the mascara you carefully applied a few hours ago. "give it up. please, i'm tired of this. i can't do this again." you turned away from him, gaze moving to look out the window as if your view wasn't solid stone and concrete.

"then don't." you looked at felix, your body still. you watched him out of the corner of your eyes, hugging your middle as a way to console yourself. he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face, "it's hard talking to you about this. i always use the wrong words and i end up saying things i don't mean. i know that, so please give me a chance here. i'm trying.. so hard, to communicate with you, i fucking swear." you remained silent, moving your head to face him, otherwise unmoving. i'm not using you. i really, really like you. even when you'd take the book i returned to give me a late fee, even when you'd scoff and roll your eyes every time i spoke, even when you'd go against an opinion you believed just to disagree with me. even when you hate me, i like you so much it turns me into — this! you turn me into a rambling idiot. i don't hate you, and not a single bone in my body is trying to use you, or break your heart." felix took in a deep, shaky breath, preparing himself to say more; but you've heard enough. more than enough, actually.

your lips slammed into his, eyes squeezed closed, trying to convey everything you wanted to say to felix but couldn't through your kiss. you put most your weight onto your arm, in-between felix's thighs that were still spread wide, his hand gravitating to your hip once more. he didn't flinch, he didn't hesitate, he didn't even gasp. felix instead completely accepted you, his lips pressed against yours firmly, his warm, wet tongue tracing over your lip, getting a mouthful of your fruity lipgloss. it was messy, sandwiching felix's top lip with your own, taking your bottom lip into his hot mouth. it was teeth grazing against each other, nibbling on each other's lips, filling each other's mouths with needy groans, his noises infectiously ravishing on your tongue. his rosy lips parted, your tongue meeting his, the taste of vodka heavy on his tongue, and burning on yours, your wet lips gliding over his, noses bumping together as you leaned further into his relaxed, warm body, hypnotised by his scent. you breathed it into your lungs, adopting his own exhale as your inhale, letting him invade you entirely; your foggy mind still debating if that fact was heavenly or hellish.

it was hard to break apart, yet it had to be done, your chests heaving and your heartbeat frantic, glowing with lust and a sense of accomplishment. felix's fingers brushed against the curve of your throat, dipping as they followed the well of your collarbones, all the while staring at you in awe, his lips parted. "i've been fantasising about that for two years," his voice was breathy, husky and smoky all at once, having the same effect on you as a siren did a sailor. you laughed dryly, "i'm sure other girls have kissed you like that." your index finger tapped felix's bottom lip tauntingly, easily sliding on his wet lip, feeling the dip of where your teeth caught it under the pad of your fingertip. you felt him smirk, staring at you through half-lidded eyes and lust blown pupils, playfully pretending to bite your finger, your skin narrowly missing his white teeth. "i've kissed other girls, yeah," he admitted, a little too casually for your liking, a burning jealousy sizzling in your gut. "but none of them ever compare to you." he whispered, voice raspy and his accent so charming it made you swoon.

felix caught on that you were jealous, chuckling amusedly, "it's not like you haven't kissed other men." he cooed, thumb stroking the swell of your hip. your eyes rolled, unable to express your discontent in any other way. "that's different," you defended, your hand caressing his inky black hair. "why? because you did it to make me jealous?" felix leaned into your touch. "yes," you hummed, eyes widening, "um — i mean, no?" there was no way you salvaged that one. he didn't seem to mind, however, a playful smirk on his lips as he shook his head in disbelief. "you did it to make me jealous, because you know," he paused to kiss your wrist, purposefully leaving you in suspense, anticipating what he would say next. "you know no man can satisfy you like i do. not a million." you lifted an eyebrow, "really?" you tested, voice doubtful. "really." felix sounded sure of himself — completely certain, in fact. "prove it." you looked up at him through your lashes, challenging him with your gaze alone. his expression changed, grinning at you like a shark, the grip he had on your hip tightening significantly.

he nudged his head in the direction of the backseat, an empty row of seats sitting silently in the dim light. without exchanging a word, you climbed around to sit there, looking at him expectantly. you weren't entirely sure what he was planning, but you wanted to see how far he would go with this, a morbid curiosity getting the better of you. felix came crawling back to you: literally, you watched as he slid into the seat next to you. "c'mere, sweetheart," he urged, staring you down as you mentally debated obeying him. despite having him before, felix had changed a lot since then, so much so he appeared like a different person to you; swapping out the cozy hoodies and relaxed demeanour for spiked earrings and leather jackets. it was as if time had just stopped working, the whole world still and silent, as if it was watching the both of you, awaiting your next moves wickedly. like everyone else had disappeared; and it was just the both of you there, as if felix was the only other person in the world besides you. he definitely looked at you that way — like he purely saw you, and nothing but you. maybe he always looked at you like that, even before you spent the night together.

shaking the thoughts out of your dazed mind, you crawled next to him and sat on his leg, your side pressed against his chest. you felt the damp slide of his scalding tongue across your skin. you felt the sting of his teeth, gliding across your throat. his touch was foreign, as if you had never felt him to begin with, comparing his touch to all those times you fantasised about him. you held your breath, heartbeat quickening and pounding against your ribcage as you felt the cold sting of his rings on your flesh, his hand on the small of your back and rounding out at your waist and hips, fingers groping the waistband of your underwear, his leather jacket still miraculously on your body. were you really doing this again? what if felix was only doing this because he knew he could? was he trying to get back at jisung? was jisung in on it? you tore your eyes away from felix, unsure about everything that had happened.

he noticed, "you okay?" he held you, tenderly, as if you'd shatter if a breeze caught you, his free hand cupping your cheek. fuck, you wanted him. you wanted him so desperately that you were easily turned into a babbling mess before him. "i hate you," your honeyed tone of voice was betraying you, brows pulled taut toward each other. "no, you don't," felix's tone was relaxed; far too nonchalant about the situation unfolding in front of him. it was all his fault, anyway. "i should," you turned your head to the side, burying it into his chest, refusing to show him the frustrated tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. "we'll see." you looked up at him, his actions mirroring yours by looking down at you, his brows raised expectantly. you took his bottom lip into your mouth, lips fitting together so perfectly you're surprised you're not made for each other, like a key fitting into it's lock.

felix's hands held you, pressing your chest into his eagerly, his kiss hungry and forceful, as if he had baited you into it. the palms of your hands found purchase on his toned shoulders, your mouth being invaded by felix's tongue, hot and forceful, painting your lips and mouth with his spit, sending shivers down your spine. he swallowed your whine, carnal and high-pitched. you felt felix's hands grope you, experimentally fondling the flesh of your ass in his palms, the feeling of his heartbeat against your skin maddening. felix was an erotic, mean kisser, pushing all he could give onto you as if he were trying to crush you. he released you, your mouth gravitating to his neck, felix squeezing you into him so flush you could feel his stiff, cold belt buckle against your abdomen. your teeth pressed into the warm skin of his tanned body, suckling his skin as if you were a vampire, drunk on his smoky, arousing cologne.

you released him, angling your mouth against the shell of his warm, blushed ear, "i want you," you whispered against him, pressing a needful kiss against the ball of his jaw. he shuddered, and not so subtly withdrew his hips in on himself as a way to conceal his erection, pushing through his jeans desperately. you giggled into him, your hand falling between his legs to paw at his bulge, smiling sinfully as you felt his cock twitch at the sensation, hearing him sighing pleased hums in your ear at the feeling. you pecked the side of felix's golden, tanned face, all the while breathless and yearning, happily observing felix as he reacted unashamedly to your touch. his hand caught on yours, bringing it up from his crotch, "i want you to feel good," he rasped, australian accent thick and catching on his low voice. you hummed in understanding, "i always feel good around you," you poured your heart out to him, your voice quiet and steady.

chuckling, he shook his head, "then, i want you to feel better than that," he mumbled, into your neck, his hand resting on your thigh. his hot breath ghosted your skin of your neck, your hair standing up, your spine straightening. you leaned into him, subconsciously grinding yourself on his leg, pressing your chest against his. "how good?" you murmured into his skin, unable to be content with your imagination alone, urging him to continue, watching as felix turned his shoulders to lean into you. "lay on your back, and i'll show you." there it was again. that delicious accent, the sultry voice, the filthy words, and that unfathomable arrogance. how could anyone in their right mind deny that?

you moved off of his leg and onto the opposite end of the seat, never taking your eyes off of his — not even once, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fought off a smile, anticipating what felix would do next. he turned to face you, on his knees, a devoted worshipper, his usually soft, expressive eyes now staring you down with an undeniably lustful, almost dangerous glint in his deep, brown eyes. you almost wanted to move away, but there was just something about felix that always left you wanting more. more of his teasing, of his kisses, of his cruelly smug grin when he caught you staring. if you wanted to stay level headed you should never let him cross your mind, always succeeding in making you compliant for him. you hated it: how easy he made it to submit to him, how easy it was to obey and please him, or let him please you. but it was addictive, so much so that it was maddening.

felix ran his hands up your thighs, your breath hitching at the contradiction between his burning hot skin and the icy stinging of his silver rings. felix inhaled sharply, eyes fixed on the blatant, vulgar wet patch of your underwear, solely existing because of him. and he knew, grinning arrogantly, wickedly at the sight. you could imagine how it looked to him, the girl that's hated you since you fucked her laying obediently in the backseat of your aston martin, her legs spread wide and her face burning hot, all because of you. he was probably celebrating his triumph right now, taking great pleasure in the sight before him. when you first fucked, he got to explore you, corrupt you and desecrate you. but this time, he gets to conquer you, overthrow you, and to dominate you. as sickening as it was, you felt downright degenerate for wanting it — more than anything, you wanted felix to fuck the hate out of you, to conquer it and defeat you.

a shiver ran down your spine, the cool air on your scalding cunt was frenzying, as you had to resist the urge to close your legs, effectively trapping felix between your thighs. nothing about him was gentle, he was all bruising kisses one your lower lips and teeth grazing against your clit, the pad of his thumb pressed against the hood of your clit, exposing more of the swelling nerve for him to take into his searing mouth, tongue flicking over it and his front teeth catching against it. you couldn't contain the whine that escaped your parted lips, which turned into a scowl when you felt the smirk between your legs, his stretching deliriously over your sopping cunt as your thighs trembled. his hands, fuck, his hands, fingers digging into your skin, holding your ass in the palms of his hands. it was all happening too fast, and then too slow, always changing his pace just to keep you guessing. his eyes were dark, obscured by the even darker hair in his eyes, his hands too occupied to brush it out of his face, the tip of his nose scrunched up as it bumped against your clit.

it was nothing if not brutal, sinful and so incredibly obscene. felix kissed your slit just as dirtily as he kissed you, staining you with his spit, shoving his blazing tongue into your hole earning a full bodied moan from you, only spurring him on further as he hummed smugly. he pulled away from your sex, leaning back onto his elbows, tipping his head back, his murky black hair falling in his eyes, on both sides of his face, behind his shoulders, neck on full display. you almost cried out, cursing at him for being so cruel, until you realised what he was doing. warm, thick spit drizzled between your legs, following the natural trail of your slit, your legs quivered. felix's long, hot tongue lapped up your arousal from top to bottom, gathering the taste of you on his tongue, savouring it with a smug grin that infuriated you. your hands clung to felix's hair, tufts of inky black hair sticking out from between your fingers from where you grabbed handfuls of his hair so aggressively you felt him groan into your cunt, the vibrations mimicking lightning searing up your spine.

he pulled away from your throbbing sex, chest heaving for air, his eyes falling to look at you with a devilishly conceited grin on his equally as conceited, stunning face. "y' think jisung can eat you out this good?" felix's voice was lower than before, cocky and arrogant and so annoyingly intoxicating. and you were helpless, intoxicated by the sweetness of his cruelty, tormented by his every touch. "no, i don't," you started, a pleased smile on your face at his smirk, "i think he could do better." you tightened your grip on his hair, savouring the way he grunted, his cock twitching at the feeling. "oh, sweetheart, you've no idea, do you?" felix cooed into your cunt, nipping at your inner thigh. your act slipped, "what do you mean?" you stammered, hips bucking into his touch. you felt felix shake his head, nose rubbing your clit side to side as he did so, "you got lucky having me be your first," he muttered nonchalantly, the flat of his tongue dragging lazily up your cunt, earning a squeal from your throat, "i taught him everything he knows." he spoke slowly, letting the weight of his words really settle. you hiked a leg up onto his shoulder, the inside of your knee snug above his shoulder blade, "and he's still better than you, lix."

something told you that you'd regret saying that.

your cunt fluttered at the feeling of felix's swollen lips on your ravaged hole, fucked nerveless by him. "maybe i should let him fuck you instead, and cut this short," felix thought out loud, prodding your slit with the pads of his fingers. you wanted to call his bluff, but from the way he was looking at you, and the way he was inching further away, you felt he wasn't bluffing. was he really that cruel? your hands pulled on his hair, urging him to look up to gaze into your eyes, noticing the way his eyes trailed from yours to your cheeks, your messy hair and the way your chest heaved with breathlessness. "felix, please don't. i.. i need you." you felt pathetic — begging for a man's touch like this. he made you feel so small, so meek. it was strangely invigorating, and you came crawling back to feel it each time, like an addict.

felix hummed, pleased. he returned between your thighs, "i thought so," he murmured, while you shivered involuntarily at the feeling of his warm breath dispersing on your sex. lust sizzles low in your gut, your eyes fluttering closed to keep the tears from flowing down your face, your thighs trying to close around felix as he sucked on your clit, open-mouthed and with vicious purpose. his hands tightened their grip on your skin, so intensely that it was sure to leave bruises once he was finished. your heart was heavy and intense, like a burning feeling inside of your ribcage, earning a loud gasp from your mouth, in awe at the skill felix possessed. you're only encouraged to get louder, to tremble harder by the way felix's tongue lapped up your slick, his lewd mouth scorching on your already feverish skin. it's so pornographic that you come alive, rolling your hips in his face eagerly as he tongue-fucks new life into you.

the wild glare in his eyes never faded, only intensified as time went on, his heavy brown eyes rolling into the back of his head as you bucked your sex into his face, legs tightening around him and tugging at the roots of his hair. felix fucked into nothing, rutting his hips in an attempt to appease the throbbing ache of his cock, spurred on by the carnal whines you let escape your throat, as well as the lewd squelching of spit and drool and cum bubbling in-between your sex and his pink mouth. the majority of felix's face was obscured by your cunt, but you could easily see the crease between his brows, put there by a mixture of frustration and concentration, as well as his long lashes, making his hair twitch each time his eyes flicked up to glare at you smugly. you essentially fucked your hips onto his mouth, crying out hysterically each time his tongue smothers the inside of your cunt vulgarly, back arching in a desperate attempt in following his deliciously talented mouth.

"'m close," you mewl, voice brittle and slurred, high and so needy you feel felix chuckle raptly into your sobbing cunt, tender from being fucked raw by felix's corrupt mouth. "hm, i know," he breathed, voice raspy and husky from his assault on your cunt. he moves from your sex, his pink, swollen lips glossy from your slit, slouched on his knees and calves from the sheer effort. he pants, desperate to catch his breath — his head lolling back and facing the ceiling, letting you watch as his adam's apple bobbed, licking his lips and savouring your taste on his lips. you could hear his groans, his chest panting slowly as he took in greedy gulps of air, his tanned, bronze skin shining in the dim lights outside of the car from the eager sheen of sweat on his skin. it's without a doubt the most pornographic, erotic thing you've ever witnessed, only spurring the arousal in your gut even further.

you shake your head, "please don't stop," your hands grope around to find felix's hands, giving them a squeeze to really deliver it. his eyes widened, his smirk growing bigger by the second, showing one side of his teeth first before the rest followed, peeking through his swollen, pink lips, the shadow on his cupid's bow becoming more defined as it curled into a wicked grin. he reached over to press a kiss to your lips, tongue sliding in your mouth the same way it slid into your hole: vulgarly and so lustfully, spreading your taste into your mouth. you hummed in delight, your hands finding purchase on his biceps, fondling the sturdy muscle beneath his blazing hot skin, mouth widening to whine into felix's mouth. he broke your hungry kiss, chuckling when you chased his lips, the back of his hand on your sternum to keep you down. "just remember whose name you're moaning," he muttered, teeth nipping at your hipbone as he sunk back between your thighs, one hand keeping a firm grip on your inner thigh to keep you from closing them, the other splayed in the juncture where your leg met your hip; affectionately stroking the feverishly warm skin.

he pressed an eager kiss to your swollen clit, your knees buckling when his tongue kitten licked the pearly bud, flicking the muscle all around your slit, his upper lip touching the base of his nose as he fucked you open-mouthedly, the top row of his teeth often catching on your clit. your thighs trembled, hips bucking into his mouth, your hands flying all over his toned back, once more entangling themselves into his inky black hair, fingers clutching at his silky hair so hard it hurt you, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hands. you don't doubt that felix is enjoying this more than you, groaning into your cunt unashamedly, drinking you in, savouring the taste of you on his tongue. something about his yearning for you makes you even wetter, your sex throbbing and your hole tensing, clenching around nothing, a dizzying burning feeling spreading all through your body. another pool of warm spit coats your cunt, courtesy of felix's smirking mouth, watching you unfold before him as he delivers you so deliciously close to your orgasm, tears prickling at your eyes and your vision going blurry, sobbing his name out so loudly that it tasted delightful on your tongue.

slowly, as if he were putting on a show, felix leaned back onto his calves, stretching, his body tight and sore from staying in that position for so long. he lifted his arms, fixing his disheveled hair, and rolling his shoulders, showing off his ab muscles, the waistband of his undone jeans slipping further down his waist. he spread his legs, further opening his fly, his clothed, hard cock catching your eye — a solid, firm bulge causing his boxers to stretch, his length straining to break free from the cloth. he shuffled closer to you, his ringed fingers tapping your bottom lip, "open up, love," he cooed. and with that voice, with that accent, you couldn't deny him, your lips slowly parting as you stared at him, loving the way his hair framed his face, all because of your own handiwork.

you watch as felix settles between your thighs, his sinful mouth gathering your orgasm on his equally as sinful tongue. it earns a squeal from you, back winding tighter and arching into him, muscles feeling like jelly as he caressed your spent cunt with his mouth. felix's eyes flickered up to watch you, his intense brown eyes still gleaming with desire, his hand petting your hair before taking a fistful into his palm, letting it weave between his fingers. felix strokes your puffy cunt tenderly, rising up to be level with you, leaning into your bubble, the pads of his fingers ghosting your bottom lip. taking it as a sign he wants you to open your mouth wider, you do just that, and you're quickly greeted with the profane sound of squelching in his mouth, felix's own lips parting as he lets spit drizzle out of his mouth and land on your tongue. you gasp, your cunt throbbing at the feeling, and especially at the sight of felix depositing his spit into your mouth, his lust-blown pupils obscured by his ebony, wispy hair, his eyes only decipherable by the way they reflected the light, otherwise hidden beneath his hair.

dipping a thumb into your mouth, the cool metal of his ring kissed the inside of your bottom lip, his warm digit carefully thumbing the mixture of your cum and your shared spit, spreading it onto your bottom lip, gleaming in the dim light. felix brought his thumb back to him, suckling on the pad of his thumb, the flat of his tongue lapping up what he took from your mouth; all the while maintaining eye contact with you. "don't swallow it, just keep it in your mouth, sweetheart," felix instructed, so casually that it shocked you, turning away from you to strip his shirt off of his body, allowing you to fully see his toned body. he did the same with his pants, already having gotten rid of both of your shoes, likely when he was giving you the best oral sex of your life. not that you'd actually admit that to him — felix was smug about it as is, he didn't need you to add to it. "c'mere," he muttered, as he threw his shirt into the front seat, turning his head to face you expectantly.

quietly, you crawled an inch closer to him, your knee touching his bare thigh. "strip for me," felix watched you through his lashes, through his messy black hair, pressing a kiss to your lips. your hands shrugged his jacket off of your body, showing your back to him, hoping he catches on. he does, thankfully, and unzips your dress, pressing a bruising kiss to the base of your neck, giving your skin goosebumps. you heard felix chuckle at the sight, his sultry voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand up in protest, his warm breath fanning your clammy skin. you let your dress hit the floor of the footwell with an inaudible 'thump', while moving to face him once more. felix greeted you with a grin, eager eyes falling to your naked body and greedily lapping up the view before him.

"open," felix tapped your lips, gaze trained completely on them and nothing else. you felt your heart skip a beat inside of your chest. you parted your lips, your hand holding his wrist as he held your face in his hand, a tender notion with a harsh grip. your tongue came out of your mouth, sitting adjacent with your bottom lip as you watched him with curious, insatiable eyes. the pad of felix's thumb collected the wetness on his finger, spreading it onto your lips lewdly. you drew in a breath, sharply, in awe of his forwardness, eyes fluttering closed as felix's hair tickled the side of your cheek, his pink tongue peeking out from his mouth to lap up the spit on your tongue. you could feel the drool pooling in the back of your mouth, lips shiny and glistening the same way felix's were, inflicting fleeting kisses onto your mouth. it was sensual, felix was slow — deciding to take his time as he savoured the taste, tracing over your tongue, your lips, your teeth, everything you had to offer, felix gratefully savoured it in some wild, primal way, without restrain or decorum.

he moved away from your mouth, lips parted and chest rising and falling like rhythmic waves as his lungs gasped for oxygen. your hands clung to his figure, holding his arms, shoulders, face — anything you could get your hands on. you couldn't hold enough of felix in your eager hands. "i hate you," you say, hands wrapping around his neck as you pull him into you. your lips slam against his, as you kiss him again and again and again, trapped in a frenzy of wanting him — of needing him. and felix kisses you back each time, just as hungrily and just as deeply. his hand gropes your thigh, fingers clenching a bit too tight around your skin, fondling the flesh of your ass as you rut into every inch of him, delirious and drunk off of his electrifying touch. the car windows fog up entirely with your aggression, obscuring and stilling the outside world around you, as if you and felix shared your own world for as long as you remained in his car.

your hand falls in-between his thighs, feeling his heavy, clothed cock in the palm of your hand. felix groans into your mouth, his hips involuntarily bucking to chase your hand, desperately chasing the pleasure you bestowed onto him. "wanna taste you, felix, please?" you ask, breathless and so pathetically it makes felix's cock twitch in excitement. he nods, "of course, love," his fingers hook the waistband of his boxers, letting you claw at the cloth as he dragged it down his legs, kicking them off carelessly. you're not even ashamed that your eyes immediately soak up felix's cock, carefully taking him in your hand as the pad of your finger traces up his slit, smearing the precum that sticks to your skin all over his leaking head. from the proximity you hear him bite back a moan, his breath hitching and his abs trembling, eyes screwing shut as he allows himself to get so, so lost at your touch. you pull your hand away, licking the precum on your finger, spreading the taste throughout your mouth, leaning into his cock to taste more.

there was an obvious blush on his face, felix's cheeks and ears burning as you flattened your tongue to lick from the base of his cock to the very tip, filling your mouth with his taste. he was warm; so incredibly warm that you thought you'd catch fire from simply being so close to him. you take an inch of him into your wet mouth, your drool mixing with his precum as your tongue explored felix's heavy cock, sitting proudly in your mouth, your finger ghosting over the blueish veins poking through his cock, spanning the entire length of him, from his head to his hilt, you traced them and fondled him and appreciated every inch of him.

you were losing yourself in the task, and just as you realised that, felix's hands wound into your hair, tugging you away from his neglected cock that was in desperate need of release, by the roots of your hair. your eyes met his, "i don't wanna come if it's not inside of you," felix's voice was husky, low and full of breathlessness, his australian accent making it seem like he slurred the words out, and it was so sexy you mindlessly agreed to whatever it was he said. you kissed his throat, body trembling in excitement, your lips pressed so hard into his warm skin that you were convinced you'd bruise him. you wanted your kiss to bruise, you wanted your touch to linger on his tanned skin long after this night, and whenever he touched the tender spot on his skin, his heart would swell with the memory of you and this night you spent together.

"then fuck me," you murmured, teeth nipping at his skin. "put my jacket back on and i'll fuck you however you want it, love." felix smirked, kissing your jaw to sweeten the deal. it was a strangely possessive request, but you couldn't deny that it excited you. it didn't take long to find it, and you let felix carefully put it onto your body, guiding your hands and arms through the cold material of the leather, his scent still overwhelmingly present on the jacket. the next thing you know, your back was pressed flush against the seats, felix hovering above you with a teasing smile on his face, his throat pink and bruising, his hair a fluffed up mess and his naked chest glittering with sweat. felix's lips were on your throat, then the well of your collarbones, and then on where your fluttering heart resided. "try not to scream too loud," he teased, licking the base of one of your breasts, his hand securing your thigh in place, fingers just about brushing your swollen clit. a gasp escaped your lips when you felt felix's head rut against your slit, gathering the slick leaking from your entrance as he did so. you unfolded into his touch, your hands wrapping around his shoulders as you pulled him closer to you, eager and so, so desperate.

too slowly for your liking, felix's cockhead enters you, sinking the rest of his length just as slowly into your sopping wet cunt. you cry out his name in the dark, so loudly that the air between the both of you could start a fire, catching on your red hot passion and igniting like the fireworks behind your eyes, in your veins and buried deep within your tender heart. your fingernails dig into his skin, trying to steady yourself as felix's cock buries into your fluttering, needy sex, as felix fucks the air out of your lungs, stretching you out so deliciously you see white spots in your vision. he was everything you dreamt about and beyond — he was so much better than your brain could ever imagine, he was so much better than your memory could ever recall.

you and he blur into each other, your skin sticking together and his cock buried so deep into you that it excited your whole being. felix pushed himself inside of you until he reached his hilt, greeting you with a burning, sharp and downright filthy sensation in your cunt, sizzling into your gut. your pelvis flush against his as your hips rutted against his length, eager to feel him fuck into you. you swear you hear ringing in your ears, eyes squeezing shut as to not overwhelm yourself. you moved like you were magnetic; when felix inched forward, you mirrored him, and when he rutted into you, you rutted right back, your hips meeting his as you chased the feeling you're sure you could get drunk on.

with every inch felix sank into your sex, you realised you had been craving this for weeks, months, years. as soon as felix stopped touching you, your body was trapped in an endless cycle of want; you wanted him so desperately that you despised him for not touching you, or laying next to you. and it was only now, two years later, were you finally being fed what you were starved for, and it tasted exquisite. you were tired of playing cat and mouse, tired of pretending you didn't fantasise about felix's touch, tired of pretending that night was a mistake, when it was actually one of the best decisions of your life, and now you were finally getting the opportunity to relax into felix, his touch like an electrifying poison. one that made all the thoughts swarming in your head melt into his name, one that made all your grudges and aspirations pause as you fully took all of him in. and you were intoxicated by his poison, by his sweet cruelty, so much so that your hands squeezed his skin, pushing felix into you as if you couldn't bear to part.

the sounds of your feverish, sensual moans collided with one another, each desperate sound louder than the other, melting into each other to create such a beautiful medley of sound. felix pulled most of his length out of you, taking that gloriously filling heat with him, and when he rolled his hips back into your cunt you let out such a loud whine sitting at the top of your throat that you nearly missed the vulgar squelch of your shared arousal being fucked back into you. when felix speaks your name, disguised as a primal groan from his mouth, he speaks it like a prayer, like he found a new religion in his throat, cradling it in-between your bodies like it would shatter any second.

you gasped when felix's girthy cock stretched you open at the same time his head rocked into your cervix, your cunt fluttering around his length as your thighs tensed wildly. "you're so perfect, fuck.." felix all but moaned, tightening the grip he had on your thigh, to which you rewarded with another needy, throaty whine. "y'think jisung could fuck you the way i do? hm?" he was rambling at this point, maddened by the feeling of your dripping sex greedily clenching his cock. one of your hands climbed his toned shoulder to the base of his neck, groping for a fistful of his ebony, silky hair as you clutched onto him for dear life, as he railed what felt like the breath out of you. a desperate, mindless cry tore from your lips when felix slapped your clit, puffy and slippery, your back arching off of the seat below you and into his middle. "i expect you to answer me when i talk, love."

was he not as mindless as you? was he not brimming on the edge of his orgasm? gathering as much strength as you possibly had left, you feebly hummed in agreement, "nobody can fuck me like you, felix. no one, especially not jisung," forming a full sentence was challenging, having to speak through your moans and cries and ignore the glorious pleasure felix hammered into you, again and again. his dark, lust-blown eyes glitter with pride and satisfaction, his orgasm gnawing at the fire in his gut. with every crazed, rhythmic slam of his hips into yours, your body trembles harder each time. "funny, how desperate he wanted to fuck you tonight," felix interrupts himself with a viciously loud groan, his head seemingly rolling off his shoulders entirely, "but instead the one making you feel this good is me." he hissed, free hand clinging onto the headrest to his left, knuckles turning white at the sheer force he used to grab onto the plush seat.

you agreed, nodding your head frantically, delirious and eager to please him. "just you, felix." you cried, thigh wrapping around his waist to cage him in, "only you," you added, softer, quieter, despite the strength felix used to mercilessly fuck into you. your entire body trembled, your cunt squeezing his filling cock as tightly as it could, head tipping back and fingernails clawing at felix's toned back, muscles pulled taut as he tensed with his own orgasm, your hands above his spine, arms wrapped desperately around him as if he was your anchor in a sea of raging storms. your blood was quick and insistent in your body, your heart quicker and frantic. it felt as if everything stopped for a moment, suspended in a time loop of a few seconds, the only thing cementing you to real life was felix. his panicked cry, the way his hips fiercely and furiously rutted into you as cruelly as his body could muster, until you couldn't tell where you stopped and he started.

he buried his teeth into the crook of your neck, winding inwards on himself as his heavy cock shot ropes of thick, scorching hot cum inside of you, so vehemently you thought you'd split in two, sobbing his name out like he would save you. you felt his cock throb from deep within you, and you felt the tremble of your torso as you struggled to accommodate any more of him. your orgasms came flooding out of your cunt, in the shape of a milky white ring that clung around the base of felix's cock like a halo. salt invaded your mouth, plaguing your tongue with your euphoric tears, tormented hands clutching felix so harshly you heard the wild groan escape his pink, sex-swollen lips. you lied there in unison, catching your breath and reluctant to part.

felix pulled out of you, slowly, all too aware of your tender, throbbing sex. he sat comfortably onto the seat, hand absentmindedly stroking your thigh to console you and coax you out of that post-orgasmic haze. once you gathered your bearings and stopped seeing stars in your vision, you carefully moved over to him, letting felix hold you so softly in his arms that you felt as fragile as he saw you. in the dark, you lay together, breathing and hearts beating slower with every thump in your chest, and it was more intimate than any second you spent fucking.

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