#It kinda looks like he's the one who received flowers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kkami-writes · 9 months

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that hufflepuff boy

pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum

disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)

The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.

Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter.

So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary.

You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him.

As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display.

“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing.

And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.

By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did.

You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book. “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back.

“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”

“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin.

“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now.

“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”

“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name.

As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream.

“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red.

“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.

“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.

Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”

“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,”

“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.

“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.

“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,”

“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?”

(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about. “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”

“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”

“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs.

“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”

“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”

Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow.

But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.

By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls.

Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes.

Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach.

So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay.

“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.

“Hi Felix,”

“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.

“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,”

“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”

“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?”

You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.)

Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff.

Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday.

After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work.

Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming.

The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much.

“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,”

“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”

“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”

“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.

The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could.

Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand. It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library.

“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year.

His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together.

His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.

You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips.

It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge.

“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head.

With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded.

He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping.

Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like.

“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.

You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers.

He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.

“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk.

“You’re not getting these back,”

Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.

He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build.

When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him.

“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth.

“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning.

“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,”

He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.

“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you.

“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.

“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.

His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.

“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts.

“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars.

It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are.

When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms.

Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine.

He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”

#stray kids #felix x reader #yongbok x reader #lee felix x reader #felix fluff #felix fic #felix imagines #felix reactions #felix scenarios #felix smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic

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rumisgf · 10 days

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YOUR BEST EATER ! - JJK EDITION

summary: jjk characters i think can eat pussy the best and who i think would not. that’s really it, i’m telling yall who the munches are. enjoy some pussy eating headcanons :D !

warnings: explicit obviously, black!reader, discussing f!receiving oral, use of the title daddy (once), cursing, slight crack, slander but i’m kidding kinda

GOJO SATURO - 10/10

✧ he’s sick in the head.

✧ i hate him truly. he gives good head and he knows it.

✧ he loves making it messy, he wants your arousal all over his face

✧ he wants it on the sheets by the time he’s finished

✧ he also likes making you cum multiple times, so don’t expect mercy

✧ he gets a kick out of watching you squirm and writhe under his touch

✧ and not only is his tongue magical, but he knows all the methods to make you scream for him

✧ he uses fingers and all that

✧ he’s definitely made you squirt from head

✧ the type of head he gives will have you soaked before he even fucks you

✧ yk the song that’s like ‘i’m the type of guy that’s gon eat it ‘fore i put it in?”

✧ yeah, that’s gojo

“one more, princess? hm?”

“yesss- please ‘toru!”

“good girl.. want you to make a mess all over my tongue”

GETO SUGURU - 9/10

✧ he’s a good contender for sure

✧ he’ll act like he doesn’t want to at first but it’s all a facade

✧ he can’t let you know he’s a fiend too early of course

✧ but when he finally does, boy are you surprised

✧ toe curling. jaw dropping.

✧ he’ll have you creaming on his fingers while he sucks on your clit like a madman

✧ it hurts so good and you never want him to stop

✧ and he licks your clit so attentively, he looks at each facial expression you make

✧ he draws perfect circles with his tongue

✧ it’s definitely not his strong suit (but shit that’s saying something)

✧ i’ll give him his flowers though for sure

✧ he gives the type of head that has you aching for him to put his dick inside you already

“taste so fuckin’ good. love this pussy, baby- ‘s all mine.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8/10

✧ he’s one of those guys who swears up and down he doesn’t eat pussy

✧ he does.

✧ first time he went between your thighs, you thought you saw god

✧ whenever your hips lift up and you start squirming from all the pleasure, he presses them back into the mattress

✧ and he edges you while giving you head

✧ he’ll have you screaming then stop just to hear you beg for him to let you cum

✧ he’s still a sadist at the end of the day, he can’t let you have too much fun

✧ either that, or he overstimulated you until there’s literal tears streaming down your cheeks

✧ he loves making you cry from head

✧ if he’s not having you gag on his dick as he throat fucks you, this is his other way to see tears stain your pretty face

✧ whenever you squirt from him giving you head, he feels very satisfied with himself

✧ he can never give head for too long tho because the sight of you dripping pussy right in front of his eyes makes him so hard it hurts

“stay fuckin’ still brat. let me taste this pussy.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN - 2/10

✧ he doesn’t eat pussy.

✧ yeah, sorry.

✧ he’s a literal demon idk what else was expected

✧ in all seriousness, he’s not too fond of giving head

✧ but, he does enjoy fingering you though

✧ his fingers are often plunged into your hole while make out sessions and it’s his go-to for foreplay

✧ he’ll have you on his lap and play with your cunt until you’re crying

✧ and if you have toys, he loves overstimulating you with him

✧ this is often how he punishes you (sometimes he just feels like it, though)

✧ but long story short, this man will NOT be your best eater

“ry- fuck! daddy please- can’t take it!”

“nuh uh, this is what you wanted doll. let me take care of ya.”

NANAMI KENTO - 10/10

✧ if gojo’s not your best eater, nanami’s definitely your best eater

✧ he’s got every tongue and finger combo down packed

✧ he gets down. he do NOT play.

✧ he’s definitely a pleasure dom at heart so he believes you deserve good head from him

✧ and he also doesn’t talk at all while giving you head

✧ it’s almost amazing how focused he gets

✧ his form of communication is looking up at your fucked out face, filling his ego

✧ he likes eating you at after he fucks you

✧ that way he can fuck his cum back into you with his tongue and taste your arousal at the same time

✧ it’s also a way to overstimulate you that he can be slick with

✧ whenever you’re in missionary, he always has your legs bent to your ears so he can pull out and lap at your pussy whenever he wants to

✧ it’s a rush getting fucked into oblivion then getting your soul snatched as he slurps up all your juices

✧ he also enjoys how wet he makes you, so you taste so good when he does

✧ he spits on it. that’s all i have to say.

“k-kento.. so good..”

CHOSO KAMO - 11/10

✧ OHHHH LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING

✧ you thought i wouldn’t put him above gojo and nanami? you’re wrong.

✧ this man is a munch. he’s a fiend. it’s pathetic.

✧ he’ll eat pussy on his knees, matter of fact he loves it

✧ he loves when you trap your legs around like yes please don’t let him breathe he might nut right then and there

✧ he whimpers while eating you out.

✧ he won’t say it, but he likes spelling out words in your clit

✧ he mostly just spells his name

✧ and he loves how you taste, so he can eat you out forever

✧ you have to tap out for him to stop because he really has no self control when it comes to eating you out

✧ and please, sit on his face.

✧ and actually sit on it. this man doesn’t wanna be able to breathe

✧ he’ll leaves fingerprint marked bruises on your ass cheeks from gripping them as he works his tongue from under you

✧ him eating you out always has you squirting before he even fucked you yet

✧ he also enjoys tasting the mix of yours and his cum after he fucks you

✧ choso gives head so good you wanna have his kids

“babyyy- ‘m c-cumming!”

“f-fuck, taste so good baby. need you so bad.”

@ rumisgf

#jjk x black reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk nanami #jjk getou #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo x black reader #saturo gojo x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x black!reader #geto x black reader #nanami smut #nanami x black!reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader

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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Text

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.”

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought.

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it.

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky.

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over.

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.”

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like.

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids?

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!”

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery.

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.”

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses.

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing.

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced.

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received.

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.”

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed.

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing?

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons.

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests.

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth.

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks.

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’.

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air.

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes.

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust.

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.”

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?”

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!”

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent.

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that.

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still.

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once.

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.”

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat.

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.” _____________________________

You thought about quitting.

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck.

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine.

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing.

“Hey, titty-shirt!”

The loveliness was ruined.

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words.

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction.

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!”

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring).

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.”

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.”

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you.

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house.

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.”

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.”

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?”

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers.

“Okay.”

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered.

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway.

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides.

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks.

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?”

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose.

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive.

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?”

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs.

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt.

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen.

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita.

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!”

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand.

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-”

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.”

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-”

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.”

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.”

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit.

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him.

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.”

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles.

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.”

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed.

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.”

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?”

“Yeah, evidence.”

“EVIDENCE?”

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet.

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed.

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines.

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something.

“TITTY-SHIRT!”

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic.

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely.

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at.

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?”

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled.

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.”

“Okay?”

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly.

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?”

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child.

“Alright, but-”

“Yes!”

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good.

“What happened to Belinda?”

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.”

“She has kids?!”

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins.

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean.

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork.

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight.

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way.

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?”

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours.

“I think you love being treated like a slut.”

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair.

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?”

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider.

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?”

“JEONGHAN!”

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing.

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious.

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath.

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster.

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips.

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you.

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back.

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again.

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back.

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt.

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them.

You went to work.

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing.

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic.

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.”

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little.

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate.

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans.

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows.

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached.

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm.

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.”

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head.

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips.

“I’m tired, you just go.”

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit.

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat.

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants.

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-”

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?”

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-”

“Well, then give us a ride?!”

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left.

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-”

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!”

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-”

You’re not even sure why you lied.

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!”

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face.

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-”

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child.

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted.

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?”

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-”

“Why are you crying?”

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern.

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual.

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..”

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up.

God, you were pathetic.

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately.

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face.

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar.

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-”

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him.

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes.

There was a significant pause.

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation.

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?”

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush.

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you.

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket.

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling.

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it.

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze.

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great.

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt.

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser.

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his.

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen.

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!”

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing.

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing.

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too.

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-”

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground.

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae.

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other.

His hand dropped from your lips.

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless.

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?”

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.”

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in.

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well.

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?”

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?”

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.”

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park.

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway.

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?”

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed.

“You’ll see.”

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful.

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis.

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly.

“What do you think?”

Jeonghan was looking at you.

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.”

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well.

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other.

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.”

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you.

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained.

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back.

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.”

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?”

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second.

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?”

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-”

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face.

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically.

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky.

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly.

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.”

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.”

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body.

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily.

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around.

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.”

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance.

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear.

“Jeonghan, please touch me-”

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble.

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing.

“Jeonghan, I can’t-”

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway.

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it.

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch.

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest.

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder.

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.”

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection.

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off.

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now.

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties.

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this.

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties.

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.”

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly.

“N-ngh, fuck..”

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.”

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine.

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it.

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-”

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face.

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole.

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-”

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming.

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face.

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.”

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.”

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs.

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit.

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin.

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying.

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs.

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it.

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly.

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply.

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling.

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.”

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating.

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.”

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows.

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock.

It was long and right by your fucking face.

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out.

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.”

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up.

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane.

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin.

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture.

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then.

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?”

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting.

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage.

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.”

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply.

Or almost perfect.

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.”

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue.

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly.

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth:

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months

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König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

#könig fluff #könig x reader #silly könig shenanigans

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

Text

Phantom had just picked up a bouquet of roses from the flower shop. No real reason for it, it was just near Valentine's day and he thought he would treat himself cause why not?

Well, he got caught up in a rouge attack and thankfully managed to keep his invisibility throughout. His roses weren't so lucky as they went flying through the air and were caught by a boy around his age. One of the vigilantes who liked to run around Gotham.

It was while the guy was staring at the roses looking completely dumbfounded that Danny realized bird boy was kinda hot. With nothing better to do and unable to return to his home dimension and having wiped the memory of everything Ghost zone and Danny related from his friends and families minds, he had found himself with a lot of free time.

He actually makes it a game to just chunk flowers and chocolates and other gifts at Robin whenever he got the chance and remain unseen while doing it.

Damian is both frustrated and impressed. He has yet to so much as spot his admirer(?) throughout the past week or so of being pelted with objects. Grayson has been insufferable with his cooing and Drake has become strangely overprotective. His other siblings had rather lukewarm responses, Brown just asked to be kept up to date, Todd laughed and called him a "little Romeo" which Damian found insulting, Cain commented on the situation calling it "cute" and Thomas asked if he could have some of the candy.

Damian himself has grown rather fond of the person and the gifts. That is, until the gifts became more and more personalized.

The first time he caught a package containing the expensive brand of paints he had been running low on, he had dismissed it as a coincidence. Maybe his admirer had good taste or knowledge of art? Later he received a replacement grooming brush in the exact same brand, style and color as the one Alfred the cat had before it was broken two days ago in one of his siblings mishaps. These kinds of thing kept happening and Damian was content to ignore it.

The final straw came went he came out of his bathroom after a shower and found a note praising him for his artwork in unfamiliar handwriting laying innocently on his desk.

Not a single one of the traps in his room had been sprung. He refused to admit he was frightened as he grabbed the note and went to speak with the others.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #deadserious #dead serious #damian wayne #robin #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #red robin #danny could tell damian was impressed so he kept doing it #he doesnt realise hes scaring anyone #tw: stalking #tw: stalker

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brairslair · 2 months

Note

your monster trio nsfw headcanons were immaculate (seriously Zoro's was PERFECTION) could you do the same for Law and Ace?

@valkyrie-sun-walker

yes ofc! and thank youuu 💓💓 i got the 2nd req from a wonderful anon after i started writing this, so i decided to combine the two! here ya go mls :)

part 2 to this post

18+ ONLY (minors… 👉🏻🚪)

a/n: just me lusting over these men so ofc they’re all yappers, + i apologize to any usopp enjoyers for making usopp’s section a lil shorter 💌

don’t forget to like, comment, reblog, and follow to support my work!

“see what you do to me?”

law:

tough guy syndrome TM

puts on a cold front, but will wear flowers in his hair if you pick them for him

the kinda guy who can dish it out but can’t take it

in every sense

he can say the most flirtatious, descriptive, borderline pornographic shit to you with a smirk on his face

but the second you return the same attitude, he gets all flustered and fumbles over his words

he acts all dominant and in control when he’s making your eyes roll into the back of your head, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear

he takes great pride in his affect on you

“feels good, yeah?”

but when you take the reigns, he literally turns into a puddle at your fingertips

- “cat got your tongue?”

“shut up-”

clearly a switch

specifically a bratty sub + mean dom switch

so basically just a little bitch 24/7

when he’s a mean dom tho, he is a fucking mean dom

he’ll edge you until your crying from frustration, and then make you cum over and over until you lose count

“honey, are those tears? it’s just too much for you, isn’t it”

“you wanna be a good little slut for me, don’t you? then hold it.”

“count down from ten, nice and slow, and don’t you dare fucking cum until you get to one”

has a choking kink (giving and receiving)

also really likes to use toys on you, or watch you use them yourself

his favorite tho is your wand vibrator

he’ll hold it against your clit until you’ve cum so many times you’ve lost track, and you’re eyes are watering from overstimulation

or he’ll push it against you while he thrusts into you at a brutal pace, making you feel so much pleasure all at once that you see white behind your eyelids

he’s not a huge fan of pda, unless he’s jealous, and then he’s got you pressed against a wall with his tongue down your throat

if you get needy while he’s busy, he’ll make you ride his thigh

he’ll continue on with his work, acting as if you aren’t even there soaking through his jeans

his gentle hand on your hip, dick already hard against your knee, and a soft “good job, baby” when you cum are the only indicators that he was paying attention at all

get’s rly cocky when he catches u staring at his chest/back/tattoos

even worse when it’s his hands

will 100% use it against you to tease you all the time

will put his hands on your waist/thigh if he catches you looking for too long in public

then later he’ll make you come on his fingers and keep his mouth running the whole time

“bet this is what you were thinking about, huh. staring at my my fingers all day? couldn’t help it, could you?”

“oh, you can take more than that. cmon, one more”

“awh baby, i can feel you squeezin me already. you wanna cum so bad, don’t you sweetheart? not yet.”

he’ll get you right to the edge just to slow down to an agonizing pace and then make you beg him to let you cum

then he’ll have you suck his fingers clean

he’s a menace

but he’s also really good at aftercare, and will tell you how well you did and make you feel so loved and relaxed

now, as a bratty sub…

he is such a pain in the ass

he knows every way to get under your skin and get you exactly where he wants you

when you’re kissing him he’ll fight you for dominance even though he’s clearly losing

makes sassy ass comments whenever you speak just to piss you off

he could literally already be doing something but refuse if you tell him to

- “take off your pants”

“say please”

even when he admits defeat, he’ll continue to run his mouth for as long as possible before his brain turns to mush

if you use your mouth on him, it’s over

he’ll go from being a brat, to gripping the sheets in seconds

once you shut his brain off, he’s a total mess

his hands and mouth sloppy and all over you

when you ride him, he can’t take his eyes off of where your bodies meet, groaning at the wet sounds of your slick with every bounce

when he does look up at you he almost busts as soon as he sees your proud smile and blown out eyes looking down at him

his moans are loud and gravelly, and he’s desperately gripping at your hips, and whining, and cursing, and panting in your ear

the only words he seems to remember are “fuck” and your name

he loves it when your mean

- “you don’t get to touch unless you ask nicely. go on.”

“oh fuck- please”

also low key a sucker for light bondage (both ways)

acts like he doesn’t like when you mark him up because he doesn’t want other people to see, but it’s actually because every time he see’s your work on his skin he wants to pounce on you

and he can’t have that 24/7 now can he (i wish tho tbh)

will bite on your shoulder when you finally let him cum, leaving dainty little tooth shaped bruises behind like a medal

and of course, a few minutes after he comes down from his high, he goes right back to being a little shit

ace:

such a cocky motherfucker

but in a cute endearing way

also allergic to shirts apparently, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t to show off for you at least a little

but he get’s all proud when he notices you ogling him

he’d say somthing goofy like

“like what you see?”

while wiggling his eyebrows

he is a messy kisser

like super sloppy

he just can’t get over how lucky he is to even be able to have your company, or be able to touch you at all, so getting to kiss you blows his mind a little and makes it short circut

soft dommmm

ace just wants to take care of you

he loves to slowly make you fall apart over and over, being there to be your anchor

but he’s also super talkative

“that’s it, princess. keep making those pretty noises for me, yeah?”

“just like that, keep going. doing such a good job”

“just a little more baby, you can take it”

loves eating you out, and he’s good at it

he likes to hold your hips down with one arm, and use his other hand to stretch you open

goes insane if you pull his hair

will put your legs over his shoulders

both a tits and ass guy

will bury his face in either and be perfectly content if he suffocates

he’s always kissing some part of you, wether its your lips, your neck, your thighs, your wrists, doesn’t matter because his mouth is on you

absolutely loves hearing your sounds, especially if you’re whimpering and whining

hearing you be so needy all for him drives him up the wall

kind of a dumbass sometimes, but can surprisingly lead to amazing sex sometimes

doesn’t realize how everyone ogles him wherever he goes

and he certainly doesn’t realize when other girls are throwing themselves at him

you know he doesn’t intentionally engage, but it’s still hard to not feel jealous watching the interactions

but when he notices you’re jealous… oh boy

he gets SO cocky (like more obnoxious than usual)

“awh, baby, are you jealous?”

“you know i only have eye’s for you”

“want me to prove it?”

and he will

he’d bring your hand to his dick, allowing you to feel how hard he is already

“see what you do to me?”

“this is all yours, baby”

“i’m alllll yours”

and then he’d proceed to fuck you until your legs are shaking, heat burning in your chest from overstimulation

but he makes sure to reassure you that he didn’t even notice the other girls intentions, because the only girl that he cares about is you <3

he’s not the jealous type himself, because he knows there’s no need to be

he trusts you, and he believes you when you tell him how much you love him

however, he does not trust other people

therefore, he is extremely protective of you

he’s honestly into pda

he just loves showing you off any chance he gets

one thing about ace is he will talk you through it

and he’ll hold your hand the whole time too

“yeahhh, there you go, princess”

“mm, there’s my girl”

“go on baby, soak me”

does the tummy push thing

also does the knee thing

goes feral if he sees you in any of his clothes

especially his hat

this is a “save a horse ride a cowboy” relationship

loves to put his weight on you, still being careful not to squish you

he just wants to be as close to you as humanly possible

and he’ll pin your hand’s above your head with one of his, interlacing your fingers

gets super giddy and proud when he fucks you dumb

“look at you, all pretty and fucked out”

“lettin me fuck you dumb, huh? lettin me fuck your brains out?”

“fuck, you can’t even think anymore, can you? feel too good to think, huh pretty girl”

he’s a biter and will sometimes leave marks, but he is not sorry

temperature play perhaps

is a fan of cockwarming

im also an avid believer in gamer bf ace

so he’ll have you just sit on his dick while he’s gaming, feeling you pulse and twitch around him in restraint

every once in a while he’d move his hips just enough to make you gasp, but then back to nothing

if you do move your hips he holds them still, reminding you of your agreement

he’ll make you sit there, almost completely still until you’re pleading and whimpering for him to let you move

“go ahead, pretty girl”

“take what you need��

he will buy you lingerie, and he will lose his mind every time he sees you in something he bought for you

face sitting enthusiast

will say “i love you” during sex at least once

will also probably quote an action movie while balls deep inside of you and completely brush past it like it was nothing

no matter what pace is set, he fucks hard

he’ll lift your legs from around his hips to push them against your chest, because the angle feels so much deeper

he’ll gradually build up speed, just to slow back down when either of you gets too close, to make it last longer

this will go on until you’re begging

“shh, hey, it’s okay baby, i’ve got you”

“just let it build with me, hm? we have all the time in the world”

“promise it’ll feel sooo good”

and when you’ve both evened out your breathing, he smothers you with affection and makes sure to take good care of you

usopp:

he’s a sub, full stop.

tried to dom at first, but it was just not natural to him at all

still will try to act all tough and in control, but he’s in the palm of your hand in seconds every time

more than willing to do anything you ask of him

gets flustered SO easily

will become a total mess from the smallest things

he gets defensive when you tease him, but he secretly really enjoys it

thigh guy

face sitting fan #2

loves kissing you and would do it all day every day if he could

any amount of pleasure you give him will turn him into a babbling mess

he’ll just say anything honestly

“hmm- feels so good”

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“can i kiss you? please let me kiss you-”

little bit of a mommy kink but embarrassed about it

suuuuper reactive

was 100% a virgin before you, so you have to help guide him in the beginning

you also help him discover what he likes and dislikes

he has a massive praise kink

“good boy” has him panting and fisting the sheets

he also really likes your hands

the way you hold his jaw so firmly when you kiss him

or gently squeeze his shaft when you tease him through his boxers

and even how you press your thumb past his lips to stifle his noises as you make him cum in your fist

his moans are whiny and a soft, getting lost in the pleasure

“ohhh- wow”

once his brain is long gone, he honestly doesn’t talk much until he’s getting close

thats when the incoherent stuttering starts back up again

“you’re so- ahh- so good at that”

“don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“i think i’m gonna… i’m cumming”

when he does cum, he’s either whining your name like a broken record, or so fucked out all he can do is pant and gasp and paw at your skin

he’s also a crier when he gets overstimulated

always polite and says thank you <3

asks are open! <3

639 notes · View notes

banggyu0308 · 1 year

Note

definitely want a cheerleader x sub!gyu smut, like hes this nerdy boy with the biggest crush on her. tries confessing, but mc is known to reject confessions, so, he gets rejected. but hes cute so mc's like, "i mean, i can give you a quick bj if you want" absolutely freaks out, cant even get a word in before his crush is down kneeling in front of him 😩

just want the boy absolutely fucked out just by some slight tongue on his tip 😂

Like // Choi Beomgyu

sub!nerd!beomgyu x dom!cheerleader!reader

Summary: it’s obviously going to go badly when Beomgyu confesses to you, someone who’s popular, attractive, and worst of all, known to reject confessions.

But that’s not going to stop him, is it?

genre: college au, smut

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), ngl it’s kinda public, reader calls him ‘Gyu’ and ‘Beomie’, dacryphilia (yes, again. I like the idea of a boy crying for me :shrug:) , beomgyu talks about himself in third person in a cute way , virgin shaming (kinda) , unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!) , lots of subby Gyu, non established relationship , not proofread

Word count: 2.5k

Beomgyu sits in the bleachers, watching you and the other people on the cheerleading team do your performance at halftime of the football game.

He can’t help but marvel at the way your cheer leotard and skirt fit your body perfectly, how you perform the choreography with ease.

It’s obvious someone like you would never go for someone like him. You’re… you, confident, pretty, popular, and he’s the kid on the side who spends more of his time indoors with his nose in a book than socializing. He’s not even sure you know he exists.

It’s not like he doesn’t have friends. His friend group consists of four other boys he’s been friends with since they were in first grade. Some of them, like Yeonjun and Taehyun, were more popular than the others and it was a little awkward at times, but they stuck together and it didn’t seem like that would change any time soon.

In fact, the one time Beomgyu spoke to you, it was actually Yeonjun’s doing.

Yeonjun knew how Beomgyu liked you, and so he dragged him to his football meet just because he knew you’d be practicing there too.

And then Beomgyu was coming out of the boys‘ locker room, opposite to the girls, cause he just felt like taking a shower. And there you are, heading around the corner to the girls’ right as he comes out.

And Beomgyu knocks into you and you almost fall, but instead of being all prissy and annoyed about it, you smile at him, wink, and say, “watch where you’re going, Gyu,” like not only you know his name, but like you’re close enough to have a nickname for him.

And that, my friends, is why half the school is in love with Y/N L/N.

And so, Beomgyu isn’t going to lie, the only reason he’s at the game is because he’s decided to confess. Because, his logic is that if you knew his name and called him by a nickname, that has to mean that you’re paying attention to him. And if you’re paying attention to him and he’s not in any of your friend circles, then that means you must like him.

It’s foolproof!! He’s gone through it multiple times, and it just all makes sense.

And this is why he finds himself waiting for you after you come out of the locker room.

You’re one of the only girls who even use it, the rest preferring to shower at their houses. And this is lucky for him, because he doesn’t want to do this in front of anyone else.

Mainly because, in the small possibility you reject him, as you are famous of doing, he doesn’t want others to witness it.

So here he is, waiting with a flower in his hand, and there you are, looking effortlessly beautiful coming out of the locker room, your hair wet from your shower.

“Hey, Y/N?” He calls, grabbing your attention.

You pause, startled, and turn to look at him. “Yeah?”

Beomgyu fidgets slightly, suddenly embarrassed, then holds out the flower for you to take. “For you.”

You smile, taking it in your hands. “Thank you, Beomgyu,” you reply, smiling up at him, this adorable boy who’s so obviously nervous.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome… you were really good today,” he adds when you two grow quiet.

You laugh. “I don’t know about that, but thank you for the compliment.”

“Oh no, really, you were. Good, I mean. More than good! Amazing! You’re always amazing, which is why…” He’s a stuttering mess by now, cheeks flushed pink, hand on the nape of his neck.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for his next words. “Why…?” You prompt.

“Why… why i like you.” Your eyes grow wide, and he continues quickly. “You’re so smart, and kind, and talented, and, and beautiful, and I just wanted to let you know in case you would ever want to be with, well, someone like me…” he trails off, looking at you from under those long lashes that flutter perfectly against his cheeks when he blinks.

“Oh- oh, I…” you don’t know what to say, flustered by his confession, and you know you’re going to break the heart of this sweet little boy in front of you, looking at you so innocently, so eagerly waiting for your response.

“Oh, Gyu…” It’s never easy, this. Hurting people just because of your personal worries. “Gyu, I’m really sorry, but I, I really can’t…”

You can see the moment his heart cracks, and you rush to say something else, hand on his forearm. “Trust me, it’s not you. It’s not you at all. In fact…” No, no, too personal. Saying something like that isn’t going to help fix anything.

And he’s so, so cute, too, and before you know what you’re even saying, the words come out of your mouth. “I could give you a blowjob though, if you want?”

Embarrassment flashes across his face, along with shock and a million other emotions, and how is he supposed to resist? Beomgyu can only nod slightly, his cheeks a bright pink, and that’s all the answer you need.

“Do you think the girls lockers or the boys are less crowded?”

He’s internally freaking out and can’t even stutter a response, which doesn’t matter because you answer yourself.

“Girls, of course. No one goes in there except me. I’ve gotten off in those showers more than once, actually.”

And now you’re dragging him into the locker room by his hand, heading to the shower, and you turn on the first faucet, moving to the other side so you don’t get wet.

Still in your tiny cheerleader outfit, you’re on your knees in front of him, and Beomgyu is trying to calm his breathing, because his crush (who just rejected him) is about to suck him off in the shower of the fucking girls locker room.

And he has to say something.

“Y/N, I- I…” You look at him from your position, and he has to look away, swallowing thickly, because why in hell do you have to look so sexy like that, looking at him from between his legs? “I’ve never done this, no ones ever…touched me?”

You giggle, unbuckling his belt and then moving to unbutton his shirt. “You’re telling me little Beomie has never been jerked off before?”

He shakes his head no, cheeks still pink, and you smirk, the exposed skin of his torso catching your eye again. “Are you okay if I kiss you? I mean, just to spice things up?”

He nods, because who wouldn’t say no to their crush kissing them?

And just like that, your lips are pressed against his, eyes shut, lips parted against his and your tongues dancing together. For being a virgin, he’s a surprisingly good kisser.

Your lips leave him breathless and a little more stimulated than it should have, but you don’t care, leaving marks all over his pretty neck and collarbones, your teeth nipping his skin.

Beomgyu can’t help the moans that leave him, a little whimper joining them when your lips dip down to his pants’ waistband.

“Want me to keep going, Gyu?” You tease, because like hell you know he wants you to.

He nods quickly, eyes shut and back pressed flush against the shower wall, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead.

You smirk and tug off his pants, running a hand over his clothed dick.

A little whine leaves his lips at your touch, and you can tell his legs are struggling to hold him up, trembling at the slightest of touches.

“Please, please, please, keep going?” He begs, hands slipping on the shower wall, trying to grab on.

Another whimper leaves his lips when you finally pull down his boxers, and you bite your lip, because god, he looks so delicious right now, and you want your tongue on him as quickly as possible.

Your fingers wrap around his dick, coaxing an echoey moan from him, your name slipping past his lips. His legs shake, and he’s flushed pink, his tip leaking. You gently, with the tip of your tongue, lick off the precum beading up, and the reaction he gives you is priceless, loud whimpers all you can hear.

“Oh, you taste so good, Beomie..~” you coo, then lick up the side of his dick, then over his tip again, applying enough pressure that when you look at him, his head is leaned back, neck with your marks exposed, and there are little tears running down his cheeks.

“Is Gyu crying?” You tease, simply kitty licking his tip again. “Is this too much for him?”

“No, no, not too much, ‘s perfect, ‘s perfect…” he whispers, his breath shaking.

“Not too much for who?” You ask, repeating your movement.

“For Gyu, for Gyu!” He gasps, giving you the words you want, his hips moving forward slightly, causing him to slide between your lips.

This only makes him cry out louder, limbs quivering, and you can feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Is Gyu gonna cum?” The question sounds so innocent, but you’re stroking his thigh with one hand and jerking him off with the other, your tongue on his tip. It’s anything but.

Beomgyu nods sharply, quick repetitive nods that make his hair fall into his eyes, his lips parted in pleasure. “Yes, gonna cum, gonna, please, please, can he?”

You smirk at his pleas, but he’s being good and asking, so all you say is, “alright, little virgin Gyu can cum~”

Both Beomgyu’s breathing and hips stutter, lips parted in a silent moan when he cums, his seed leaking down your chin. You swallow it all up, then stand, peering at him curiously.

He fidgets under your gaze and you smirk, hands tracing the line of his slender shoulders. “Hey Gyu?”

“Yeah…?” He whispers, still breathless, his eyes on yours.

“I want you to fuck me,” you state blatantly, eyes searching his, the taste of him still present on your tongue.

His eyes grow wide, lips trembling slightly as he tries to form the words he wants to say, and once again he just nods in agreement.

You don’t know what urged you to say that, but soon enough you realize: the boy is so fucked out from your tongue, you can only imagine how he’ll get once he’s inside you.

The steam of the shower has your clothes sticking to your skin and you peel them off, smirking at how Beomgyu’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows. You tug down your panties, beckoning him to your side, and pull him in to kiss him again. You’re under the water by now, the two of you slick, your hands tangled in his wet hair.

“Please,” you inhale when you break the kiss, kissing him again immediately, and he gets the memo, tentatively hooking an arm under your knee and drawing your leg up.

His tip prods against your entrance almost immediately and you both suck in sharp breaths, his face buried in your neck. “Is this it?” He mumbles, the sound of his voice muffled by your skin. His hips buck forward on their own, a little twitch, but it’s enough for him to sink his tip in, stretching your entrance perfectly.

You can feel his mouth opening and closing silently, his breath shuddering, the way his eyelashes flutter tickling your neck. “Keep going, Beomie, I can take it.” You whisper, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Beomgyu thrusts forward again, sinking in halfway, and you feel as his his breathing falters all together, his one arm tightening around your waist, fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

One last thrust, and he’s in entirely, his tip pressed perfectly against your g-spot. Your own breath hitches and a small moan leaves you simultaneous with a whimper from him.

“Can’t, gonna, please!” He gasps, rutting into you again, pressing closer and closer to your cervix, the pressure in your lower stomach building when his fingers press against your clit.

“Gonna what, Beomie?” You tease, trying to sound cocky, but your voice turns too breathy, a squeaky gasp leaving you.

“Gonna, cum, please, ‘m gonna cum…” Beomgyu’s hips move again, small little jolts that send the pleasure on rampage down your skin.

“Who’s gonna cum?” You tease, the power that comes from him talking about himself like that running through your brain and making you want to ruin him.

“Gyu is, Gyu is, gonna…” he can’t even finish his sentence, too far gone, hips stuttering as he cums inside you suddenly, the fingers against your clit quickening in desperation to get you to your own pleasure.

You were already reaching it, the sensation of his fingertips, slightly calloused, tipping you into the deep end of the pool, drowning you as you tremble, gripping him hard, his name leaving your lips over and over again.

Your walls clenching around his dick makes him whimper slightly, cumming again without warning, the twitch of his hips fucking his cum deeper into you.

He lets go of your leg and you collapse against each other, your weight pinning him against the shower wall. Beomgyu’s chest is heaving against yours, both of you fully bare and shaking slightly, his hand still gripping your hips.

You raise his chin with your fingers, his eyelashes casting shadows on his flushed cheeks, because god, he still can’t believe you’re fucking him. “Gyu?” You hum, smiling slightly at him.

He raises his eyebrows, a small “hm?” leaving him in a response.

“You’re cute when you talk in third person,” you giggle, backing up from him with a smirk and pulling on the fresh clothes you had in your backpack.

You scribble something down on a piece of paper and hand it to him when he follows you out of the shower in a dazed state. “My number. Call me?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, of course,” he blushes, stuttering slightly, trying not to crinkle the paper in his fist of excitement.

You smirk, then leave the locker room, Beomgyu trailing behind you. Two guys in your class raise an eyebrow at your wet and disheveled hair, and well, the fact that Beomgyu was in the girls locker room.

“Did you guys fuck in there?” The talker of the two asks, smirking at you and obviously eyeing your torso, exposed by your crop top.

You shrug like it’s not big deal. “Yeah. So?”

The other raises an eyebrow. “Was he good?” As if ‘he’ wasn’t right there, listening.

You smile, a teasing look in your eyes. “He was, but if you define “good” as “fucked my brains out” you should ask him about me instead.”

And at that, you stride away, smiling to yourself.

You look behind once, to survey Beomgyu’s reaction, and he smiles cutely at you, coaxing one of your own in response.

You tamp down the feeling in your chest, because you are not falling for this boy. No you are not.

At least, not harder than you already had, even before today.

A/N- TWIST ENDING??

I went a little overboard haha-

#beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #sub beomgyu #cheerleader x nerd #nerd beomgyu #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt x reader #txt #tomorrow x together hard hours #tomorrow x together smut #ada answers 💌#ada's req: Beomgyu <3

2K notes · View notes

i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 months

Note

Since you open ask box and request, can I get TF141 men (or Ghost and Gaz if you don't feel like to write all of them) reacting to cool, rarely smile, intimidating and stoic reader finally smiling for the first time. Let's say reader has soft spot for certain things (cat, dog, book, flower etc) and they immediately smile when they see them without realize it. Boys just keep falling harder for reader and decide to make it their mission to make reader smiles more often.

I guess that's all for now. Thank you

🦈

hello🦈 anon!! Sorry I wasn't sure you want me to write them separately or together, so I chose the latter lmao. Hope you will like it (or don't hate it), TYSM for the request :) I love this request so much since I'm always a fan of cool reader. tf141*GN!Reader, Reader's kinda tsundere word count: 1.9k

Every member of Task Force 141 saw you as a capable teammate, you went through thick and thin with them, and always have their back. On the field, your shooting accuracy and excellent combat skills saved you and the team many times, quickly clearing any threat so the mission wouldn’t be compromised. You have rarely been scolded by Price, and always dealt with your paperwork impeccably. The only problem was that you’re too stoic, they never saw you smile from the first day you joined the task force. More like a robot than a human, this is how others evaluated you, and you had an aura that made recruits afraid to speak to you.

You even smiled less than Ghost, at least the man still got some dry humor and bad jokes to spit out, but you rarely reacted to greetings except a nod, less to say about Soap and Gaz joking with you, they were lucky if you spared them a crook of your eyebrows to their teasing that day. but this only made your teammates curious —especially Soap — eager to know the person under the facade, even if it was just a little. Soap wrote down what he discovered from you every day in his journal, from how you always have your tea, to trivial habits like you would frown nearly imperceptibly when you see the cafeteria is out of your favorite sandwich. Soap would tell other men about what he finds about you today, and they would keep those details in mind too. Until the day, Laswell brought a big cake which she was gifted by others but she was unable to finish it herself. They saw your eyes brighten instantly, and an expectant smile blooms on your face. Your eyes stuck on the exquisite big cake in front of you, not aware of Gaz gaping at your smile like he saw the sun rise from the west today, how Price immediately stopped his hand while smoking his cigar so he could take a good look, even Ghost’s eyes were wide like full moon behind his mask. It wasn't until Soap’s yelp that dragged you out of your trance, and you turned around just to find all your teammates staring at you like you were an alien. “Any issues, MacTavish?” Confused, you asked Soap who made you stop staring at the cake. “You- You can smile?” “Did I?” “Well, let’s finish this quickly so it won’t left over to tomorrow” Price raised his hand to interrupt the talk before Soap could say other things “The fridge has no place to put this bloody huge cake.” After Price’s command, all of you walked and took a plate and fork. Price sliced a medium size for him, Ghost did the same. Soap took the knife and sliced a slightly bigger one for him and Gaz, but when he was about to cut one for you, you reached out your hand to beckon a “give me” gesture, which Soap obliged and handed over the handle to you. Only for him to see you slice 1/3 of that damn enormous cake and put it on your plate. “Wha- ye sure ye can eat all of ‘em ?!” His jaw dropped at the huge slice of cake that made the center of your paper plate sink, but only received an “huh” face from you. Well, his concern was unneeded, because you devoured the whole thing in 5 minutes, faster than everyone else, and stood up to cut another piece. “you really like cake ain’t you.” Gaz chuckled at the scene where you almost bury your face in the plate. “No.” “Then why are you smiling like a kid who sees their favorite toy?” Frowning, you touched your cheek to check, and oh shit, you truly were. “I-“ your face changed from :D to :| while you tried to find an excuse “It’s just Captain said that don’t leave the cake overnight, so I’m eating this much, not that I love cake.”

Even though your poor excuse, all of them knew their new goal now: bringing you cakes so they could see the pretty smile enthralled them. The first who brought you cake is Ghost, he saw a strawberry shortcake on his way back to the base, he didn’t think twice before he told the staff to wrap the cake for him. and he was sure his decision was right when he showed it to you, and you two sat in the common area. He drank the tea you made for him as appreciation while watching that pretty smile reappear on your face again. “Look who said they don’t love cakes, and eatin’ like a man who haven’t eaten in days now.” He lifted his mask to his nose to drink the tea, so when you shot him a glare, you could see the smirk spreading on his lips. “You bought it and I don’t want to waste it, that’s it.” you stabbed the fork on the cake. Ghost huffed out a laugh at your answer, but when you went back to swallow a full spoon of whipped cream, he took note in his mind to buy you the chocolate mousse he saw at the store next time, so the precious expression.

Gaz bought you an Earl Grey mille crepe cake a few days after, which was the flavor of your favorite tea. “It’s it good?” He gave you a toothly grin that you thought was too dazzling when the “not bad” slipped out your lips whilst you were busy finishing the cake. He sat beside you and ate the slice you cut for him, and he rambled about what happened today to entertain you. You pretended you were not interested, eyes never left the cake, but you memorized everything he said clearly.

Of course, Soap wouldn’t forget to dig into this breakthrough of yours. A big ‘they love CAKES!’ was written in his journal, with 2 circles highlighting the words. He considered you have eaten crepe cake and shortcake from Ghost and Gaz, so he got you a basque cheesecake. “What is this?” You tilted your head when you opened the take-out box. “basque cheesecake. Heard it from the medics.” Soap watched you attentively take a little bite at the cake, and he laughed when your face beamed up in a second. “Not bad?” He knew you just refused to admit you love cakes. You answered with your cheeks stuffed with cheesecake. “NAOW BAA” After he waved goodbye to you, he came back to his barrack, he opened his journal. a big ‘Basque cheesecake ✔️’ had been added under the circles.

The captain hadn’t let the chances to see your face gleam with happiness slip by too. As usual, you came to his office with a flawless report, and for some debrief about the next mission. When it was over and you were about to leave, he called your name to stop you from exiting. “Is there anything I forgot to tell you, Captain?” Your face was serious, without any improper or unprofessional, but it didn’t last long because Price took out a fresh cream Swiss roll. “You’re going to drool all over your shirt, sergeant.” He teased and received a little scowl from you, but the harmless scowl was unable to stop him from fixating on and mesmerized by the satisfied grin that lingered on your face when you made both of you some tea and started consuming the whole roll.

You got pampered by all 4 men of your team for months. Thanks to the high amount of exercise, you didn’t gain belly fat, and getting lots of cakes from them had you started gifting them things too. You got Ghost some nice whiskey when you came back from leave, which he gladly accepted and invited you to drink together. You gave Soap some snacks from your hometown and stationeries for journaling, and almost get squished into a dough by his tight embrace. Gaz got some game cards from you, and when he surprisingly asked you why you knew he wanted those games for a while, you just shrugged and walked away, there was no chance that you were gonna tell him you had been listening to him and Soap chatting about them. Price entered his office one day morning, and saw his box of favorite cigars and tea being placed on his desk. He realized it was you in the blink of an eye, only you would choose to secretly put gifts and refuse to leave a note indicating who you were. He just patted your head and thanked you when he met you in the training room.

Times flew fast when your life was occupied with missions and training (and cakes). Tonight you went out for a while to buy something for your teammates, since they still insisted on feeding you cakes frequently, recompensing them with gifts they loved had become your habit too. but when you searched from the common room to Price’s office, you couldn’t find any of them. Odd, you thought, you hadn’t heard them leaving the base too, you even searched each of their room, which still lacked their figures. Furrowing your brows, you decided to go back to your room, maybe you could give them tomorrow. What you didn’t expect was when you opened the door of your room, you were welcomed by Soap and Gaz’s exciting voice. “Happy birthday!” “Jesus… I was searching for all of you…” Your eyes rounded “Wait… It’s my birthday today?” “Don’t tell me ye didn’ remember!” Soap, who standing closest to you and with a birthday cake, shoved you playfully with his elbow. “I…” You glanced at the calendar hanging on your wall, unable to form words when you realized it really was your birthday today. “Come take a seat, love.” Price’s words help you fill the silence. You slowly closed the door behind you, and your gaze traveled from the elegant cake, the flames dancing on the candle, to your teammates — the people you trusted with your life. “A cake makes you stupid, sergeant?” You heard Ghost chuckle at your reaction, but you didn’t glower at him this time, because you felt tears welled up in your eyes, uncontrollably. “Oh no, lovie’s going ta cry!” Gaz joked at you while he led you to your seat. You blinked away tears before they could escape, and smack at Gaz’s bicep. “Shut up, Garrick.” The laughs and jokes filled your little room with joy, you sat there listening to Gaz and Soap banter with Ghost about how he was so selective about the cake so they could give you the best one, and as Ghost retorted back, a plate was handed to you. The biggest slice among others, full of whipped cream and fruits decorating it. You picked up the fork and started eating, the sweetness spread inside your mouth, with the fruit neutralizing it and taking the taste to a whole other level. “Ye always smile when ye eatin’ cakes, you know? really like cakes don’t ye?” You raised your head from the plate, and finding everyone looking at you, with such softness you questioned yourself if you were able to reciprocate, and you touched your cheeks, you could feel the corner of your lips curling upwards. but this time, you deepened your grin, warm and fascinating, before you picked up your fork again. “Maybe I do.”

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jacaerysgf · 26 days

Text

Admirer

r.q: Hello! I love your writing! And especially when you wrote the Aegon x f!reader where the reader is shy and it’s all just cute and stuff. could you write something similar with Aegon x f!reader where the reader is again shy but has a huge crush on him? Like she’s a high born lady and secretly writes him letters and leaves stuff in his chamber like for example his favorite wine she saw him drinking, flowers, fruit and other things. Aegon doesn’t know who it is from because the two never talked. But once happens that when she’s putting again some gift into his chamber he catches her. Then some smut if you would be comfortable writing it and eventually he marries her and everything? Because Aegon feels appreciated and loved finally from someone. I want our Aegon to feel some love. Thank you!

w.c: 1.2k

c.w: highborn!f!reader, angsty aegon, kinda corny aegon, proposal ?, no actual smut but heavily implied, DRABBLE !! not proofread

a.n: will prob expand on this in the future bc i love this idea a lot but for now i hope this drabble is good <33

‘you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen i look for you in every room i enter’

‘My affections know no bounds when it comes to you’

‘I hope you shall smile to my prince for your smile is the most glorious sight’

‘you make my heart race and soar’

It had been over a month since the beginning of him receiving gifts each day, each attached with a small love letter to him. He had no clue where these letters and gifts were coming from. when he brought it up to his mother she shook her head and said she had no idea along with questioning some of the handmaidens who also had no idea. it was like a ghost, everyday around the same time late at night he would enter his room and a new gift would be there.

He had thought he was being pranked, that the karma from his past jests was finally catching up to him and he was finally being punished. there was no way someone truly felt this way about him, nobody looked for him in any room, nobody enjoyed seeing him smile. they had to be pranking him and he was very determined to catch you, because you continued to jest with him knowing his favorite wine his favorite desserts for gods sake you had even left him some bandages one time after he had been walking around with a cut on his cheek from an accident.

He was now determined to catch you, to stop this foolish game, to stop himself from thinking it was even real, but he had no clue how to even catch you, you were like the wind and he had no bases to even start from.

He had spent yet another day running around searching for any sorts of signs about this mysterious person and came up empty handed once more. He had been back earlier than usual, when he pushed open the door to his room he stood frozen in shock as the girl in front of him squealed, dropping the plate of cranberry pie on the ground.

He couldn't recognize her, he could tell by her nicer dress however that she had to be from some important family, his eyes fell to the table in which you were standing next to and he noticed a small note. It had been you. the person who was leaving him all these gifts and notes.

“What is your name?” Shaking her head unable to lift her head to look at him, “i am so sorry my prince i-” “Your name?” You give him your name and he rolls it off his tongue easily, testing it out. He quickly closes the door and makes his way swiftly to stand next to you before grabbing you chin and forcing you to look up at him. “Who put you up to this?” A confused look finds its way to the girls face and she shakes her head, “nobody my prince?” the statements ends with a question, unsure of what he even means in the first place.

He takes a second to admire your name, your eyes, every detail of your skin and for a second he hopes its real and that a pretty girl like you truly liked him. “then why have you been leaving me gifts?” he expects you to finally admit it now, that you had simply been toying with him.

You had been helaenas lady in waiting for almost two months now and it had been some of the best times you’ve ever had. The princess is kind, the people are kind enough but what really is a blessing is getting to see Aegon almost everyday. Ever since you first arrived in the keep you had kept your eyes on him, you had thought he was the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Despite how much you wanted to you couldn't find the courage to go up to him and introduce yourself. Being a member of the great house tyrell you should have this great confidence about you but you never were able to be as outspoken as your siblings so if you really wanted to express yourself you decided you would have to get creative.

You figured out he was always out of his room and the maids weren't in his room during a very specific hour of the day and had just decided it would be easier to now have to face him to give him notes of your affections. but today the prince had come back to his room earlier than he usually did leaving you in this situation. You hadn't figured out what you were gonna say because you had never even really planned on telling him it was you.

“I just rather like you a lot my prince.”

Ever since then he had basically been glued to your side, followed you around everywhere and begged you to join him for meals. It was odd. you had gone from him never speaking to him to him wanting to see you every moment of the day.

One night in particular you had not seen him all day oddly enough and you don't expect to see him, until you’re sitting in front of your mirror preparing for bed when you hear knocking on your door.

You have no clue who could be coming here so late but when you open your door you barely get a look at him before he walks past you and heads straight to your bed laying face down on it.

“My prince?”

He groans and just rubs his further into your pillow. You walk over carefully and place your hand on his lower back. “Is something wrong?”

“missed you.” He hums as you begin to rub up and down his back, “i missed you too my prince.”

“They kept me from you all day.” He pauses for a moment and when he begins to speak his voice is laced with venom. “They want me to marry some bitch from the north.” You pause, your heart breaking into a million pieces as you think about him going off and marrying someone that's not you. “oh…”

He sits up, looking at you with cloudy eyes, you can now smell the wine on him, “I told them no. That i would marry nobody.” you look down at your lap as he moves closer to you, laying his head on your lap. “Nobody if it was not you”

“my prince?” You whisper at him as he presses his cheek against your naked thighs, your night gown having ridden upwards “your father thought it was a wonderful idea. my mother was so mad i thought she was going to smack me in front of them all.” Your breath gets caught in your throat as he grabs your hand and presses it against his cheek. “My prince?” “Call me Aegon my love.”

“what are you saying?” He looks up at you, grabbing you neck and pulling you down so your facing are right next to each other, “marry me.”

“Why?” Mirroring his own question that had been asked not too many moons ago, he looks at you with a wide grin as his eyes drift to your lips, “I guess i just rather like you my love.”

He presses his lips against yours and hums forcefully shoving his tongue in your mouth in a heated kiss. You fall back with him on top of you, his hands sliding to your thighs to push up your night gown to your stomach completely exposing you to him. His fingers lightly rub against your folds “Aegon,,” “Allow me to show you how much i love you.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #prince aegon #house targaryen

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kalims · 2 years

Text

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room 'cause all I see are girls too good to be true"

jealousy, jealousy,

I reckon yuu has atleast some people admiring them for their 'heroic' acts for each dorms, ironically enough

characters. riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus.

includes. gn!reader, flowers aren't limited to girls.

cw. each has a student from their dorm/another liking reader, book 5 spoilers? kinda.

note. this was supposed to be for celebrating 4k and originally I had a fic that I was supposed to publish but I got really busy w/ school and stuff so I supposed I'll just drop this 😚 I'm also sick btw *cries

if someone asked you; "what do you think the students see you as?" you'd probably answer, "a wannabe I guess." technically you were sure that you were right about your guess. if there's anything that you'd know about a school that worships villians is that they'd hate someone whose the polar opposite.

which is you, with you basically 'saving' the dorm leaders and all. atleast the person in question didn't seem to pick at you for helping them and not going like 'I don't need your help.'

which is also why you're.. shocked to say the least when some random student you can't say that looks familiar hands you a bouquet of flowers, clearly flushing at your stare. you notice a white envelope tucked into the variety of flowers as well as a box of chocolates.

funnily enough you wondered if twisted wonderland celebrated valentines day on a different month.

albeit the possibly hundred other gazes from the other people. why'd they have to do this in the cafeteria exactly? it would've saved you the trouble if they did it on a more private scale.

you can only smile at them politely. honesty feeling a mixture of embarrassment and shyness cause you've never received such a bold confession yourself. "thank you?" you feel a little bad when they deflate at your short answer to their gifts but nevertheless pleased.

"you're welcome. I tried to pick out the flowers for someone as special as you but it can't compare." they absent-mindedly state. you can't hide the grin on your face, you just met this person and they're already flattering you. it feels nice to be appreciated.

kinda cringe but you take it back this person is really cool.

— riddle rosehearts

bystander number 1. who wants to collar that person by anger, along with jealousy then proceed to stomp away. riddle would actually do that but only when you're not around cause you'd probably not be too happy if he punishes your 'friend' and he wants you to see him as the 😇 reliable young lad everyone loves.

suddenly had the will to impress you and one upped everything the other person did. so they got a 49 on the magical analysis test? that's too bad, riddle got 50. get on his level. so they answer correctly only when called? well riddle's voluntarily raising his hand and getting them all correct. oh they can cook?

oh well. he can do everything else better else than cooking so it doesn't really matter. you'd be a fool to choose someone else over him. but he supposes its part of the charm, infatuatingly enough.

— leona kingscholar

bystander number 2 who either just doesn't care or is secretly really mad. knowing leona it's probably the latter because it's leona and if there's something he hates it's probably getting upped by some random person whom he's clearly better than. you must be really blind if you have the audacity to ramble about said person to him.

went really grumpy for the span of days to weeks. ruggie literally would do anything you ask if it meant that leona's gonna be to his old self, lazy sure but he didn't used to place this much work on him!

your fault or not you'd probably also get affected by his drastic change of attitude. bro literally ignored you as well as everyone else, reverting to his mean self but treating you with more bitterness. it's probably not your fault but he doesn't regret a thing because you actually look upset when he pays you no mind. so you do feel something for him 😒😏. flashbacks to kaeya

— azul ashengrotto

bystander number 3. who's borderlining between wanting to get depressed then crawl in his octo pot to cry and absolutely ruining everything this random cheap made. I mean, really? those aren't even your favorite flowers! where did they get them, at the nearest dollar store? if he were them he'd give you the most expensive flowers you'd ever lay your eyes on!

and that's what he does actually; literally showed up on your doorstep with a handsome smile and gave you the most prettiest flowers you've seen yet. consider yourself charmed! bro literally made you forget about that other person for days until you saw them like a month later which is kinda bizarre..

the twins don't let you know that azul put them up on a 'job' to keep em' away. but it does use for good blackmail material against the jealous octopus.

— kalim al asim

bystander number 4. legit doesn't get jealous. kalim literally is just happy that you have admirers like him because you deserve it! he'd be more upset if you didn't have admirers honestly. okay but lowkey though, he isn't trying to compete at all but you receive a large bouquet, definitely much grander than the one you received and a heartfelt letter tucked into it.

how was that person supposed to win you over when kalim does it better?? ok but this is like the jamil situation in book 5 LOL.

if he actually somehow gets jealous he feels bad because he knows he'll do it better ( not condescending /gen ) so he just resorts to trying to win your affection and forgets about not trying then completely overshadowed the other person's previous attempts. bro only spared a 'I feel bad' look then smiling again because yay! you like him better now :)

— vil schoenheit

bystander number 5. AKA, the one who knows he'll do better and actually does do it better ( condescending ). vil doesn't even bother doing anything cause he trusts you enough to make the.. correct, choice. you do know that he's one of the most sought off person in the world, right? you'd be a fool to not see that.

okay but maybe he is a little paranoid that you actually will choose them so he actually does put in effort..

I mean nearly everyone is scared terrified of rook right? what's one more person to the count? he totally does not purposely send out rook to stalk them so he can expose them on social media .. or make him stall them somewhere so he has the chance to whisk you away and you losing the ability to see them for this day.. oh well, it's better to just spend it with vil since you're free anyways..

— idia shroud

bystander number 6 who was there but actually not there..? physically not present but he was there, somehow.. *looks at camera in the far, FAR corner of the ceiling*. idia doesn't know whether to start crying because you actually looked happy with their CRINGE. confession.. the crying is a more intense period than azul's btw.

or.. actually there's no or, that's just what he's gonna do. close his electronic device, crawl into his bed and cry into his body pillow. fear not. little brother ortho to the rescue! ortho actually suggested destroying any evidence of a 'disappearance' if that poor soul just happened to not be present for years but idia quickly shot that idea down, he actually pondered on agreeing but no way he's gonna let them win by that!

hijacks all their phones, PC's, whatever other stuff so that it's completely off, no other person can fix it besides him. and he's definitely not gonna do that so the person ghosts you for weeks, so you get mad and ghost them irl.. wow his masterplan actually worked. no ortho pls don't force me to 'comfort' them..

— malleus draconia

bystander number 7 who genuinely doesn't see the appeal of this basic little b— human :). like? hello?? he's right here, open your eyes child of man. no need to tolerate the pathetic display they just did that doesn't live up to your very existence, they might as well compare you to gravel on the floor from how poor they executed their weird analogy.

he could legit go on and on about every single feature you have, your eyes, mouth, face, shape.. he would present you a microsoft presentation for it if you ask and it literally is godly description type of thing. you could finish listening to one of them and you'd be in TEARS ☠.

bros so sentimental. he thanks lilia for the advice of microsoft presentation because you now look completely convinced. malleus has the pride to spare the other person a smirk when your attention is fully on him :D.

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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you.

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers.

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment.

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow.

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.”

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it.

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth.

“Jihoon, wait-”

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!”

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd.

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here.

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?”

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket.

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.”

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh.

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that?

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit.

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!”

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.”

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little.

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!”

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students.

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit.

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage.

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!”

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully: “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…”

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-”

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss.

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly.

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?”

“Yep.”

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?” _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.”

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.”

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board.

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows.

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await.

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.”

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?”

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you.

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies.

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.”

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..”

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.”

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.”

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her?

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!”

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips.

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more.

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!”

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-”

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.”

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.”

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you.

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.” _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed.

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?”

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!”

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.”

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.”

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you?

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?”

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed.

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?”

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.”

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation.

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.”

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.”

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you.

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you.

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims.

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?”

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.”

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!”

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!”

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!”

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker.

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…”

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too.

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?”

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!”

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.”

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!”

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!”

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.”

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.”

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes.

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!”

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…”

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!”

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’.

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich.

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!”

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily.

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head.

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.”

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.”

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!”

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.” _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening.

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on.

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you?

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..”

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-”

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this.

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice-

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!”

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?”

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-”

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!”

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you.

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.”

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?”

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.”

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?”

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word.

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet.

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.”

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.”

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh.

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!”

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile.

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?”

“Hm?”

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?”

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.”

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?”

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where-

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house.

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have.

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?” _____________________________

“Jihoon?”

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers.

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.”

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.”

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?”

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Oh.”

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street.

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch.

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor.

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring.

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other.

“Why?” you ask.

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-”

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-”

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-”

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him.

There are flowers in his hands.

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code.

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.”

He nods.

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers.

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?”

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?”

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?”

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you. He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest.

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted, cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love.

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.”

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.”

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy.

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you.

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again.

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy.

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it.

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy.

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him.

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?”

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-”

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts.

“Sorry, it was just-”

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.”

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?”

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers.

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously.

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit.

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?”

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth.

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side.

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.”

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling.

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again.

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.”

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile.

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.”

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.”

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.”

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.”

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan.

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-”

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?”

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?”

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.”

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.”

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you.

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively.

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious.

“... Are you still hard?”

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised.

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along.

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.”

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing.

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.”

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..”

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse.

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior.

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.”

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins.

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

#svt smut #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #svt woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #svt angst

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 1 year

Note

Zoro x Fem Reader fluff and NSFW! S/O is a sweet and gentle lover, being like the opposite of Zoro. She always takes care of Zoro, like giving him blankets during naps, water and towels and massages during his training, etc. But Zoro hasn’t done much for her as a lover, which everyone but S/O reminds him. Zoro tries making it up by taking her to a flower field date. S/O is so happy, playing with the flowers that Zoro couldn’t help but fall in love with her innocence and kindness even more.

S;DUFDFVHJDOI;FDS;SDJF;OS THE WAY I SQUAWKED AND FOLDED FOR THIS REQUEST because I relate to it sooooo much oh my goodness gracious. I was so excited to write this and kept thinking about how to approach it, (which you can tell from how long it is... I got SUPER carried away lol)!!! Thank you SO MUCH for this request!!! I also used post timeskip Zoro because he seems more serious and stoic, and just imagining him being soft and blushing and in love just sidfjduhgsdijfo;i ugh okay? I headcanon that Sanji hides the sake and beer from Zoro just because he can. I don't know yet if it ever actually happens, but I would not be surprised.

🍶 Wordcount: 6.2k (DO NOT EXPECT THIS NORMALLY PEOPLE, I JUST HAD FUN WITH THIS AND WENT OVERBOARD BY A LOT)

Warnings: light angst, kinda cheesy romance (leave me alone I'm a romantic), kinda ooc fluffy soft!Zoro (because I'm a SLUT for soft zoro), SMUT - (oral/fingering, f!receiving, penis in vagina sex, squirting, mild choking m!receiving, f!reader getting railed by Zoro)

There is a section written in green from Zoro's POV.

Okay I'm literally so proud of this piece. That's it. Thank you, and enjoy.

ALL CREDIT TO ARTIST BUT I CAN'T FIND THEM but it's the perfect image for how I describe Zoro looking at you adoringly :3

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"All I'm saying is that if I had a lover like her, I'd give her everything and anything" Sanji quipped from his place in front of the stove.

"I didn't ask you, ero-cook. I love her and she knows it. That's enough. Stay out of my relationship" Zoro snapped from the pantry, searching for some alcohol.

"You should say 'our' relationship, idiot marimo. It's you and her together."

Zoro slammed shut the pantry, rattling the wall. The cook hid all the alcohol from him again.

"I don't want advice from a love sick fool who can't get a woman to save his life. At least I have a girlfriend" he spat, stalking towards the door.

"Yet you're arguing with me, trying to find alcohol to go drink alone instead of spending time with her. After everything she does for you." Zoro spun around angrily, hand on one of his swords, but was interrupted by the door to the eating area opening. You stood in the doorway hesitantly, immediately sensing the tension in the air, and the way it thickened at your presence.

"Oh. Uh. I stashed an extra bottle of alcohol away for you for when San-... uh... you couldn't find any... so... here" you held out the bottle. It was a bottle of decent sake you had swiped and stashed last week for the inevitable time the cook hid all the alcohol from your boyfriend, which you had seen the blond doing earlier.

"Thanks" Zoro muttered as he took it from your hand. He walked out the door, leaving you with the cook. You didn't miss the glower the cook sent towards the swordsman's back at his dismissive attitude, but you ignored it. You walked into the kitchen, distracting Sanji from his annoyance with a sweet request for two cups of water. He quickly got them for you with an exaggerated flourish, causing you to giggle. At the innocent sound, his smile turned sad before he became serious.

"You do too much for him and don't get enough in return" he muttered. Your heart clenched.

"He loves me in different ways, away from where people can see. Unfortunately, it's hard to do that on a ship" you said, shrugging off the comment. You knew it was true. You knew he loved you, he just... had lofty goals. It's hard to find time for romance and giving your lover attention when you're training constantly to be the worlds greatest swordsman, and first mate to the future pirate king. You knew that going into the relationship, and you were content with giving him attention so he knew he was loved.

"Besides, if he knows I love him, that's all that matters to me" you said.

"He doesn't even take you on dates when we go to islands" Sanji said quietly.

"It's pretty hard to do when he has the directional sense of a rock, and he somehow usually manages to get into some sort of trouble" you dismissed easily. The cook sighed, turning back to the stove.

"As long as you're happy, but I'd be glad to kick his ass for you if you ever feels like he needs it" he offered. You snorted, grabbing the waters as you made your way towards the door.

"You'd do it if he even looked at you wrong, let alone pissed me off" you teased, opening the door. Sanji waved goodbye with a sweet smile, knowing what you said was one hundred percent true. You rolled your eyes, making your way to the deck towards Zoro. It was evening, the sea breeze sweeping away the heat of the day, cooling the air to a comfortable temperature. The sun was starting to set, the sky turning gold with strokes of pink and red towards the horizon.

Your boyfriend was enjoying the last vestiges of sunlight on the deck, sprawled on his side with his head propped in his hand. You stood and admired his features for a second. His short green hair seemed more vibrant in this light, and his eyes closed gently, the scar over his eye shining with the different texture. The light hit his exposed chest just right, highlighting and shadowing his muscles that he worked so hard for. He brought the bottle of sake up to his lips and took a swig. You watched as his chiseled jaw moved as his throat bobbed. His earrings glinted in the golden light at the new angle. You swallowed, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"You just gonna stand there?" he asked, lowering the bottle from his lips. A drop made its way down his chin but he wiped it off carelessly with the back of his hand. You cleared your throat, flustered that you had been caught staring. You made your way to sit so he could see you with his good eye. You silently held out the glass of water, glancing at him quickly.

"You good? You look like your blushing" he said, letting his fingers linger over yours as he accepted the glass of water. One of his ways of showing innocent affection.

"Yeah... You just... You're so beautiful" you breathed honestly. Zoro blushed slightly and grunted, looking away from you. You giggled quietly, able to read his reactions like a book. He was surprised and flustered.

"Not my choice of description" he mumbled. You decided to tease him further.

"No? I could say you're pretty, or stunning. I could say you're handsome, sexy, strong, amazing-"

"Shut up!" he swatted your thigh lightly. Now he was beyond flustered, blushing all the way to his ears. You dissolved into laughter, falling onto your back as you clutched your stomach. You missed his gaze, staring openly at you with awe, but he controlled his expression quickly before someone saw him. Your laughter eventually faded, and you eased yourself up to lean on your elbows to watch the sunset. Streaks of purples, oranges, pinks, and reds painted the sky.

"Tomorrow we should arrive at a spring island" you said quietly. Zoro grunted quietly. To anyone else, it sounded like a simple acknowledgement that you spoke, but you heard his silent invitation to continue.

"It's famous for the flower fields that grow wild there" you said, awe and excitement coloring your voice. You didn't notice his curious glance towards you.

"Yeah?" he prodded. You sat up fully, hugging your knees to your chest, your expression dreamy as you let the visual of the current sunset coloring imaginary wildflower fields form in your mind.

"Mmmhmm. I told Chopper I'd go with him" you said quietly.

An idea bloomed in the swordsman's mind, but he kept his expression neutral.

"For medicinal herbs?" he asked. You nodded.

"I'm excited" you said dreamily. Zoro hummed, a plan forming behind his neutral face. He'd need to ask some favors, which he hated, but to see you smile it was worth it.

----

The next morning you woke up with more energy than usual, the excitement to visit the wildflower fields evident in your actions. All morning, you asked Robin about her flowers, and she lent you a book about the flowers you were likely to see on this island. You devoured the information until Luffy exclaimed loudly that he could see land. You worked off your extra energy running wild around the ship with him and Chopper, feeding each other's childish excitement. You didn't see Zoro anywhere, but assumed he was training in the crows nest.

The ship finally docked, and you waited impatiently for Chopper to finish gathering what he needed before the two of you leapt off the ship.

"Oi! Wait up! I'm coming with you two" your boyfriend called out, sounding exasperated as he slung a bag around him. Your happy surprise showed in a small squeal and a jump into his arms once he caught up. A wide grin donned your lips and you laughed as he tsk'd at your behavior and pushed you back by your forehead.

"Did you shower?" you asked, surprised. Normally it took you promising alone time or a bottle of sake to get him to shower regularly.

"So what if I did?"

You shrugged, grabbing his hand as you turned away.

"C'mon! Let's go! And don't let go of my hand. I don't want you getting lost"

You lead the way through the town, the three of you stopping to buy some drinks before continuing. Chopper got chocolate milk, Zoro got sake, and you tried a popular local flower tea. You asked the shopkeeper directions to the flower fields to make sure you were going the right way. He nodded, but leaned forward, indicating at your hand in Zoro's.

"The fields are a tourist attraction, but there's a place that's out of the way and much prettier, if you're looking for a more secluded area." You opened your mouth to say it didn't matter, but Zoro leaned forward, intrigued. You realized he probably wanted to take a nap in the quiet area, so you nodded and asked for directions. You thanked the shopkeeper with a few coins as a tip for his information, and set off with Chopper and Zoro in tow.

"You didn't have to give him money just for telling us that" Zoro griped. You rolled your eyes.

"You just say that 'cause you're in huge debt to Nami" you teased. He bristled slightly.

"He offered up the information for free!"

You shrugged.

"You repay kindness with kindness. That comes in different forms for different people"

Zoro grunted, having no reply to that. Chopper spoke up.

"Ooo you're so nice! But the directions the man gave you leads to a different area where the herbs I need don't grow. Is it okay if we split up? I'll be fine by myself, and you can go enjoy the beautiful area."

You hesitated. You told Chopper you'd help him find herbs, but the offer to spend alone time with Zoro without other people disturbing you in a flower field sounded too tempting. Your boyfriend squeezed your hand.

"He'll be fine. Let's go. You're excited right?"

You exhaled, and ran your free hand through your hair before smiling down at Chopper.

"You sure?" He nodded determinedly at your question, then ran off with a quick goodbye and a promise to be safe. You watched him for a bit, but turned around when Zoro tugged on your hand.

"C'mon. Lets go" he urged. He began leading you, but you quickly stopped him, a smile tugging on your lips.

"That's the way we came from, babe. This way."

He huffed in embarrassment both at his mistake and your pet name, but let you lead him. You reached a fork in the path just outside the town. One sign indicated the path lead to the flower fields, but you headed down the unmarked path, following the shopkeeper's directions.

"Oi. The sign said the other way. You sure we're on the right path?" your boyfriend asked. You glanced at him with a single raised brow and a smirk.

"I love you so much Zoro, but I'm surprised you even realized the sign was referring to the other path"

He blushed and spluttered, indignant at your quip and flustered by your easy admission of your feelings towards him. You cut him off with a soft laugh.

"Hurry up! I can smell the flowers already!" You broke into a quick jog. The swordsman easily kept pace with you, staying by your side even as you let go of his hand. You focused on the path ahead of you, missing his quick, adoring glance at you. There was nobody around, after all.

A few minutes later, you rounded a corner of a rock face, and your view exploded in vibrant colors. Shades of purple, pink, yellow, orange, green, and blue dotted the field sprawled in front of you. You gasped audibly, in awe of the view in front of you. The air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers, the breeze wafting their perfume around you as it brushed the petals and bowed the thin stems in waves. A lone apple tree stood in the middle of the field, matching the rustling of the field as the breeze threaded through it's boughs. The field led to a cliff, which looked out over a hidden cove. The beach below was white sand and turquoise waters.

You stepped forward hesitantly, unwilling to crush any of the beautiful plants. A warm hand landed on your lower back, nudging you forward. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the flowers.

~~~~~~~

He wished you could see yourself from his point of view. His life had been dark and full of violence, but you brought innocence and raw love to his life. You were the light to his shadows, the food for his soul, the gentleness to his calloused fighting.

Your awe at the flower field in front of the two of you froze your entire body, your hand curled in a gentle fist against your chest, over your heart as if checking you weren't dead. You were hardly breathing, as if unwilling to disturb the beauty in front of you.

Tears shone in your eyes, overwhelmed by the excitement and unfiltered, pure awe of the beauty in front of you. You took a small step forward but stopped. He placed a gentle hand on your lower back, nudging you slightly forward. You deserved to experience the beauty he could never bring you as a person.

You deserved everything his crewmates said you did. The open affection, the love, gentle smiles, and innocent caresses, returning the small gestures and kindness you unthinkingly did for him. You massaged his muscles when he over trained, patched up his minor injuries after a fight, and brought him water and fresh towels when he was working out. He wanted to give back. To run a finger over your cheek before kissing you gently, to play with your hair, to cuddle you when you frowned.

Yet, selfishly, he couldn't bring himself to be seen doing it. He couldn't let anyone know you were his weakness, that he loved you enough to give up his dream of being the worlds greatest swordsman for you. It wasn't that he didn't trust his crew, he did. It just terrified him knowing how deeply you affected him- how much he loved you, and how much he would sacrifice for you. He would even destroy the very sun if you asked.

He let his gaze wander over your face. Innocent and pure adoration, the tears in your eyes at the view that surpassed your expectations. You looked beautiful, but he couldn't bring himself to say it because he was falling even harder for you. He nudged you forward gently again with the hand on your back.

She deserves everything.

"Go on. You deserve it" he said quietly.

He met your gaze, letting himself show his affection for you, removing the wall he put up to keep his expression neutral. Fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and he chuckled at your innocence.

"Get out there or I'll carry you" he teased. With a nod, you shuffled forward, and crouched to gently caress the delicate petals of a flower. He could hardly tell them apart, but you had been studying them all morning. You sniffed the flower, and you gazed at the field before suddenly taking off. Your unabashed, pure and kind laughter carried over the field, making him smile at your innocent joy and excitement. You opened your arms as you spun, as if to hug the breeze that tangled it's fingers through your shining hair. Your face turned towards the sun as you breathed deeply, a smile never leaving your face.

He couldn't help the answering smile that graced his own lips. Your beauty and joy sent his heart fluttering as he made his way to the lone apple tree to set up the meal he had packed the two of you, courtesy his begrudging ask of Sanji. He wanted the best for you, and even he had to admit the cook was good at his job.

He was supposed to stay and watch the ship today, but he asked Franky to instead. The damn cyborg had even started bawling when he explained begrudgingly that he wanted to take you on a special date. He considered asking Brook to be nearby to play some of your favorite songs, but he really wanted it to be the two of you during this date, so he asked him to do it tonight, back on the ship. He asked Robin and Usopp to work together to buy some seeds and plant you some flowers from the area in a small planter, so you could always have a little bit of this spring island with you. He even asked Chopper to make an excuse to find the herbs somewhere else. It was lucky that the shopkeeper guided the two of you away from where the reindeer actually needed to go.

He flicked open the blanket, spreading it on the ground beneath the tree. He saw a few ripe apples in the branches, and picked them easily. He heard your footsteps approaching, but didn't look back, focused on reaching the last apple, just out of his reach.

~~~~~~

"What's all this?" you asked breathlessly. Zoro didn't look back. You slid off your shoes before stepping fully on the spread blanket, placing them neatly next to Zoro's boots.

"'s for you" he said before jumping a little to grasp the apple he was trying to pick. As he pulled it from the tree, the branch shook, raining petals and leaves on the two of you. You giggled. He turned around, gaze landing on you, and froze. His eyes were wide and his mouth parted. A blush was coloring his cheeks a red under his tanned skin. He had only reacted like this the first time he saw you naked in his bed. You noticed he had a leaf stuck in his hair, and you chuckled as you reached out to pluck it from his head. He started a little, and pulled you close with an arm around your waist.

"What's wrong?" you tilted your head.

"You..." he trailed off, plucking a light pink petal from your hair.

"Me?"

"God I love you so much" he breathed. Your eyes widened, and you gasped lightly. It was kind of rare for him to say it, preferring to show you. He took a deep breath, exhaling as he cradled your cheeks in his hands. His thumbs drew matching gentle circles on your cheeks, and he lowered his forehead to yours, eyes closed. One of your hands came up to cradle his, the other resting on his hip.

"I know I should be more open about it. I'm a selfish bastard because I just can't let people know that you're my weakness. I can't let them know that I'd give up my dreams, to be the best, for you. Because when I'm with you... nothing else matters. I'd tear down the sun and the moon if it meant you would always be happy and safe. I can't show it because I can't lose you."

His voice sounded strained, as if it caused him pain to speak like this. Your voice caught in your throat, unable to form any words. You could only surge forward in a desperate kiss, which he matched in fervor. You couldn't get enough of him, shoving your tongue into his mouth clumsily to explore it. He grunted in surprise, but quickly adapted, returning the favor quickly. Your hand that was resting on his wrapped around to thread through his windswept hair, and the one that was on his hip slid to his bare chest, trailing down to his haramaki. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands skimming down from your face, featherlight touches down your shoulders and sides until he reached your hips. He broke the kiss, breathless.

"You drive me insane, woman" he muttered as his hands cupped under your ass. He tapped his hands twice, and you took the hint, looping your arms around his neck and jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. He lifted you easily, and you kissed him again. He moaned into the kiss, and you answered with a groan. He knelt smoothly on the blanket, lowering you to your back gently. You broke the kiss, looking at him softly as he hovered above you, hands caging your head.

"You drive me insane too" you muttered with a smile. He smiled lovingly at you.

"Pretty sure that's part of the boyfriend job description" he answered, leaning down to nose your jaw. You huffed a laugh as he tickled your neck with butterfly kisses. You rarely saw this side of Zoro, and each moment made you fall more in love with him. Usually it was desperate, passionate kisses that lead to fucking, and while that was nice, this felt more like you were going to make love. You dragged your hands down his chest, reveling in the warm touch and the chiseled muscles.

"Zoro"

"Hm?" He broke away from your neck, meeting your gaze. Your hands drifted to the front of the shoulders, flexed as he held himself above you.

"I want you" you whispered. His eyes flared with lust.

"Whatever you want, princess" he muttered, lips brushing yours with his words. He covered your lips with his, slightly chapped and tasting like the sweet sake he had on the walk here. You groaned, and you let him explore your mouth with his tongue, running over your teeth and tangling his tongue with yours. Your hands threaded through his hair, scratching his scalp the way he liked. He broke the kiss from your lips and started kissing down your neck, gently biting in places before licking and kissing it as if in apology. A hand wandered under your shirt, caressing your belly, sides, and breasts.

"I don't tell you nearly enough. You're beautiful"

Your breath hitched, and you raised a hand to cover your mouth in shyness. He sat back, and pulled you sitting upright with his movement. He helped you strip from your shirt, decorating your chest with soft kisses. You tilted your head back, a blush on your face, unused to the loving attention. Normally it was pawing and tearing at each other's clothes in desperate lust when you finally got some privacy, but this... this you liked. A lot.

You moaned lightly as his hands deftly removed your bra, then eased you back down gently onto the blanket. He cupped your breasts, thumb rubbing gentle circles over your nipples as his tongue laved over the other one. You moaned quietly, raising a curled hand to your lips in embarrassment. Zoro caught it before it even reached your shoulder, and popped off your nipple to catch your eye as he hovered over your chest.

"Let me hear you. Please." His voice was deepened with lust. You nodded at him, sure your blush was prominent. He huffed a small chuckle, letting himself look at you with all the love he had, a genuine close-lipped smile curving his lips softly.

"Let me take care of you today" he said, kissing the back of your fingers.

You tangled your fingers with his, gazing at him, "Z-zoro".

He leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, before allowing himself to travel down your neck and chest, planting soft kisses on your skin. He whispered praises unabashedly, knowing he could show his love for you openly here. It was safe. His hands kneaded your breasts as if to ground himself.

"I love you so fucking much"

"So beautiful"

"I love how you do so much for me"

"I love how you show me you care for me"

"I love how innocent and carefree you can be"

"I'd give you the world if I could"

He slowly made his way to your shorts, nipping lightly at the skin of your tummy before sliding his hands down your sides and removing your shorts and panties. You lifted your hips to help him. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of you laid bare in front of him, better than any meal he could ever taste. He gently spread your legs, and you tried to keep your thighs closed out of embarrassment. He soothed his warm calloused hands on the outside of your legs, from hips to ankles. He easily placed your knees on his shoulders, and eased himself forward. You parted for him automatically.

"There's my good girl" he cooed. Electrifying heat pooled in your lower abdomen at the words. His words were usually somewhat degrading, which you loved, but his praise trailed heated fingers down your spine. You moaned, and you could feel him smirking against the fat of your thigh as he kissed it. His fingers slid their way over your slit, finding your hole and collecting some slick so he could rub your clit. You hummed at the sensation, breath starting to come faster as you began to lose yourself to his ministrations. His fingers were gently drawing circles on the outside of your clit, making sure you didn't get too stimulated right away.

His face lowered in tandem with his fingers, his tongue quickly finding your clit as his fingers prodded at your hole. One slid in and out a few times before the second finger joined and together, they prodded up into that one spot that sent your toes curling, right as he flicked his tongue expertly on your clit. Your orgasm was sudden and blinding, squeezing around his fingers and your hands finding their way to his head, bringing him closer. He groaned into your cunt, lapping at you like his life depended on it. Your moan was loud, head thrown back and back arched sweetly for him as your thighs squeezed around his head. He only eased his onslaught of pleasure as your thighs loosened their grip and you were pushing away his head.

Your chest was heaving from your pleasure, and he was catching his breath from being happily squished between your thighs. He licked the shiny release he could release from his face, dragging the back of his hand across the rest of his face.

"You like being praised that much, princess?" he teased, a smirk on his face as he shed his coat and haramaki with practiced movements. You could only stare as his muscular frame rippled under his tanned skin. He leaned over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. He chuckled, but it was different from the dark laugh that promised difficulty walking the next day. There was a light blush on his cheeks, and he looked genuinely happy. You looked in awe, having never seen this expression on his serious face. He brushed his lips on your cheek, then pulled back.

"You deserve to hear it."

You couldn't help it. At those words, tears brimmed your eyes. Zoro panicked. He sat back on his heels and immediately brought you to his lap, holding you.

"Oi! Wait! Don't cry! Did I hurt you? What's wrong?"

You shook your head, a watery smile breaking through.

"Just... who are you and what have you done with my Zoro? You're all sappy!"

He rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead gently.

"I'm tryna be romantic for once, treat you like you treat me constantly" he muttered, scowling as he looked away. You dissolved into giggles.

"There you are! There's the man I love." He huffed.

"Did you wanna fuck or not?" he asked bluntly, shifting his legs so you could feel his hard length trapped in his pants. It sent the heat of arousal swirling through your veins again.

"I wanna make love" you cooed with a smirk in his ear, pressing your chest against his bare skin. He hissed out a breath.

"Lay down then, princess" he growled in your ear. You could feel him smirking against your cheek, "Let me make love to you" he teased, throwing your own words back at you. His fingers trailed down your spine, landing on your hips. You shifted off his lap and made yourself comfy on the blanket. He stood quickly to removed his pants, but you didn't miss the quick scan of the area to make sure you were alone. Not that he cared if people saw the two of you fucking, he just didn't want this experience ruined.

He sank down and crawled over your form, spreading your legs wide to kneel between them. You absolutely loved when he fucked you in missionary. He was so big and strong, and he stretched you out so well. He surrounded you and was inside of you, and it was both a calming and euphoric sensation.

He stroked his large cock with one hand, the other balancing his weight by your head. You dragged your fingernails up his arm, landing on the back of his shoulder.

"Please, Zoro" you murmured. His silver eye widened a little before his lips curved up softly. He lowered himself in a sort of half one-armed pushup to rest on his elbow. You didn't miss the casual show of strength. Showoff. He eased the tip into your wet pussy, and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as you turned your head into his forearm, biting lightly. Zoro laid kisses on your neck and jaw, distracting you from the stretch. His other arm came up to the other side of your head.

"Good girl. Doing so well" he murmured in your ear. You shivered, the words in his deep voice making you groan. He took it as an invitation to continue, and he slowly began to sheath himself into you. You were soaking. His praise, kisses, godly body, and obvious love all affected you deeply.

"Shit. So tight and wet"

Your hands curled into claws, lightly scratching down his back as you whimpered. He shushed you, caressing a finger down you cheek.

"So good. Taking it so well" he murmured before kissing your lips. You could only moan into the kiss. You raised your legs to rest on his sides and hips. He reached deeper and you moaned loudly at the sensation.

"Good fuckin girl. Doing so good for me. Took my whole cock on the first try" He moaned into the flesh of your throat. You whined, arching your back. The new angle hit something devastating deep inside, and you mewled.

"Look at you, so beautiful for me"

"Zoro~ move" you moaned. He started slow, letting you get used to the stretch, but quickly built his pace to a steady, smooth one that sent you keening. His thick cock was dragging along your walls, pulling out enough so his tip was pushing gently on your g spot, before pushing in smoothly with a roll of his hips that had his cockhead pushing that one spot deep inside. Your breath was heaving, interspersed between moans and calls of his name. It was so good, but you couldn't quite reach the peak.

"Please, let me cum" you begged desperately. Zoro grunted above you, raising himself so his palms were beside your head. He hardly broke his rhythm as he looked at you with a dark smile.

"I thought you wanted me to make love to you" he teased. You reached up, cupping his cheek with a hand.

"Romance me later. Fuck me. Now"

"As you wish, princess" he mocked.

He pulled out, kneeling in front of your hips as he slung your legs over his shoulders. He simply picked up your hips, and started slamming his cock in and out of your pussy. Skin slapping together echoed across the field, and your wails followed. With your back bowed off the ground, you had no control over your hips, but the angle was incredible. Your hands gripped the blanket uselessly, unable to hold back your moans and sounds of pleasure. Above you, Zoro was grunting and swearing under his breath. You could tell he was getting close, seeing you bent so sweetly under him.

"God fucking damn it. You're just sucking me in" he growled. You tightened at the praise. You heard him chuckle darkly.

"That's right baby. Feel so good, tightening on my cock like that. I want you to cum for me, like that. Needing me to hold you up like this. You look so pretty, under me like this"

As he spoke, the knot in your abdomen tightened to dangerous levels. Your legs tensed until you were practically hanging from his shoulders. At the new tension holding you up, Zoro could wrap one hand around your thighs holding them together as he held you up, lightly choking himself with your calves on the sides of his neck as he brought one hand to snake around to your torso. His warm hand pressed down on your lower abdomen, and he could feel his own length as he pistoned in and out of you. A new sensation began to build.

"Z-Zoro- something- ah! please! I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead. Cum hard on my fucking cock"

His thumb reached down to draw circles on your clit, and at the rough touch, you exploded. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Zoro kept your thighs tightly against himself, slowly only slightly as you tightened around him enough to start to push him out. Your back bowed further, and you felt yourself wetting his torso as you squirted. His body shuddered as his hips stuttered to a stop, a loud groan leaving him as you unwittingly limited the blood flow to his head with your spasming calves. Had your eyes been open and focused, you would've seen his eyes fluttering and rolled back in his head, cumming hard.

Both you were breathless as Zoro lowered your hips back down to the blanket, collapsing beside you, uncaring of the mess.

"holy shit" you breathed. Zoro started to chuckle at your swearing, and you joined, giggling as you rolled to snuggle onto his shoulder. He held you close, and you reveled in the touch. Suddenly you sat up, looking concerned and turned his head to the side to look at his neck.

"Did I choke you? I just realized that maybe my legs-"

"I'm fine. I liked it" he took your hand in yours, looking sheepish, "It's almost like being squeezed by your thighs when I eat you out."

You blinked at him, easing yourself back down.

"Huh. Who would've thought you had a choking kink" you muttered to yourself. Zoro swatted your bare ass lightly in retaliation, but didn't deny your words. He wasn't a liar. The two of you laid there in easy silence, listening to the breeze and inhaling the sweet perfume. You shifted, feeling the uncomfortable squelch of drooling cum from your pussy.

"Let's get cleaned up" your boyfriend suggested, sitting up. Clear droplets rolled down his torso with the movement, and you watched their movements.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard" you said quietly. Zoro handed you a napkin he produced from his bag.

"Me either" he admitted. You giggled, still somewhat delirious from the post-sex high.

"What did you pack?" you asked curiously. You were starting to get hungry, and you were thirsty from your heaving breaths. Zoro silently handed you your clothes, and you took them gratefully. He began pulling out a meal and drinks from his bag, and it was obvious Sanji packed it with care. You smiled softly, understanding the sentiment. Zoro sucked up his pride to make you happy for a day.

You crawled over to him, still naked, and pressed your chest to his slightly sweaty back as you hugged him. He grunted at your sudden affection, and you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"I love you, and I know you love me too. I see it in the small things, the things you can't hide. We love each other, and that's what matters. Don't let what they say get to you. I'll start telling the crew to stay out of it too" you said, determined. He somehow slung you around him and into his lap, an innocent smile on his face.

"Whatever you want to do. As long as you know that I love you"

You smiled easily in return, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Get dressed. You're naked" you said, crawling off his lap. You weren't sure if you could even stand up after that round.

Zoro landed a solid swat to your bare ass retreating from him, "you're one to talk"

------

That evening back on the ship, Brook played your favorite songs, and you were surprised when Zoro thanked Usopp and Robin in front of you. They had gone above and beyond, creating a tiny greenhouse planter for your soon-to-be spring flower garden. Sanji asked if you liked the food, and you thanked him. Even Zoro held his tongue, simply nodding at the cook. That night, as you lay in bed with your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his earrings before trailing your touch down his jaw. He opened his eye curiously.

"Thank you for today" you murmured. You didn't know how to begin describing how much it meant to you, so you simply kissed him gently, trying to pour your emotion into the kiss. He cupped your cheek, pulling back from the kiss.

"I love you" he muttered. You smiled softly. His walls were up again, but you could never doubt his words. He never lied. Not to you.

"I love you too, Zoro"

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