#he loves zag so much he loves him so much he loves him SO FUCKING MUCH

[monty-glasses-roxy]

BEHOLD!!!

BRACHIOSAURUS FREDDY!!!

HE'S LIKE LONG CAT BUT UP!!

#pop rox draws #fnaf security breach #glamrock freddy #HE'S GETTING TAGGED #LOOK AT MY FUNNY DINOBEAR #I FUCKING LOVE HIM I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING AT HIM #GOOFY AS LONG BOY #LIKE IF YOU GRABBED HIS HEAD AND DRAGGED IT UP A LONG WAY DFDSF #this came from the idea of Montceratops btw sdfdsfs #I had to draw funny longbear right that second or I'd implode lmao behold the crimes of my imagination dsfsdfs #unironically love him he's so fucking funny #you go down to sewerhell and just see this fucking thing stomping towards you what do you do #dinosaur freddy #tagging so I can find him again dsfsf #I love him so much. I think he beats Zags for my favourite Freddy. #is he canon to my stuff? I don't know but I want him to be purely for the absurdity sdhfds #LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT MY SON. MY BOY. ELONGATED BEAR. LOOK AT HIM. #shsidfdsfsd imma go get food please enjoy him as I do

[eobard-thawne]

thanatos whispering “i got you” to zagreus will never not tear me apart

#it happened the other day istg i almost fucking cried WHAT #he loves zag so much he loves him so much he loves him SO FUCKING MUCH #thanzag

[ladykakata]

I'm just saying if Hades doesn't want him I'll fucking adopt him he's my son now bitch

I'd have to join the queue behind Spear Dad Achillies, Nightcore Mom Nyx and No Idea Where He Got That Rebellious Attitude From Mom Persephone though

#I love my pure hearted idiot son #Why do I love him so much #He looked like a fuckboi in the trailer #SURPRISE HE IS A CINNAMON ROLL THAT WANTS TO BE FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE #I WILL PROTECT HIM WITH MY LIFE #Him dying or being in pain is upsetting persephone why are you chill about this #Nyx really looked at itty bitty stillborn Zag and went absolutely fucking not #Thats a star that must shine #Hades #Hades game #Zagreus

[hearties-circus]

Her favourite coworker her bestie I promise

#al art #metal gear solid #mgs #kazuhira miller #the boss mgs #zags your tags i love them #to ease the hell that is being stuck at msf/dd she just chats with everyone there like they're besties and can hear her #she especially likes to just chat at kaz though bc hes funny and bc occy fuckinf hates him #she knows her contrasting emotions abt kaz completely fucks up adams mood its a big part of the reason #although all this being said if kaz could see/hear her he would also very much like her #so in spirit they're besties <3 #haunted by joy au

[velvetmud]

Little Rabbit

warning(s): explicit 18+, daddy kink, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cum play, dirty talk, nicknames, riding, squirting, creampie, filth

a/n: random nasty nasty vulgar porn with no plot. nothing besides thirst inspired this

-

“Yeah, fucking right. Keep on bouncing like that. M’gonna tear this pussy right up,” Joel grins, triumphant smirk as he watches your pussy cream and convulse all because of him. His thick, condomless smooth member just making you lose it, ravaging your micro sensitive spots with every pump. “Gonna mold you to take this cock. Mm, feels delicious on me, baby.”

Your ass doesn’t seem to ever lose momentum, rising all the way up off his lap until just his tip is inside—teasing, wiggling all over it before slamming your pussy right back down. Loud squelching comes from both your pelvis’ joining together, the stringy wet spurts making a mess all over. Joel’s fingers are covered in it, your thighs combined are fucking smeared in it. He could close his eyes for the rest of this fuck and just listen to every thrust inside, could cum so hard so easily from the noises alone. The sound of your breath, the way you pant on top. Don’t even get him started on the movement of those hips on him, your pussy, that heavenly grip swallowing his girth.

“Daddy’s having so much fun, honey girl. Ffffuck, oh keep clenchin’ down on this thick cock. Yeah, take it—take what you need. My greedy, slutty little rabbit.”

You whine and speed up, aggressive hips sliding and zig-zagging to claim every inch. He gasps when your legs start to shake and pussy drooling out another beautiful gush, splashing his dick and staining his curly hairs.

“Mmmm, I feel that pussy losing control. C’mere, daddy’s gonna take over n’ finish us off.”

His grippy long legs worm around your thighs, trapping you down to the bed and onto his cock. Thrusts everything he can inside you, taking over to control the tempo. Those hands find your hair and gently give it a good yank, watching your slick build up on his base.

“My pretty little flesh light, always on this dick making a mess.”

You can’t turn around, but you feel him drag a finger from your labia to your ass, gathering up a trail of the cream. Hear his gruff hums while he pops the finger in his mouth. Drives his cock to sheath all the way inside, feeling both snug against your ass and smooshed into your guts.

“Close, close, daddy’s gonna—gonna make me—“

“Mmhm. Cum on your fucktoy, c’mon. Squeeze all over daddy.”

His pumps become sloppy, wet thrusts getting deeper and lazier as he feels your helpless tight walls soaking him with every push in. You answer his prayers, jolting back while your pussy lips drooled around him like a geyser, explosive shockwaves interrupting.

Joel chuckles and shushes your outlandish cries, grippy pussy unleashing the tension around him.

“Yeahhhh, I know little rabbit. Just ride it out on me. Love how happy I make this beautiful pussy.”

He feels lost when he spares another good look down. Taking the sight in. Connecting himself to you over and over.

The warning he spews is half assed, barely on time before ripping himself out. His cock slaps against his belly button, throbbing with every ripple of cum painting your ass and your lower back. He deliriously watches on as you wiggle back and forth some more on him, catching every glob. He knows how much you love his loads, how somehow it didn’t matter if he hadn’t cum in an hour or a day or a week—he could cum buckets.

By the time he’s finally emptied and all done, catching his breath and groaning his voice hoarse—his spend is slathered all over your backside, a lewd shot of the claim he’s stuck on you. As if your body was an uncharted discovery, something to nail his flag into.

“Milked me dry, baby.”

You sinfully peak back to eye him behind you before grabbing the base and sinking down onto him one last time, marinating in the sticky fullness.

“Oh fuck,” he utters, choking as he stops you with a forceful hand on a cheek.

“Can’t do that little rabbit. That’s how babies are made.” he rasps. Like it pains him to say.

Gently sliding back out, he pulls your body up on his stomach, uncaring of the sticky remanents getting everywhere as he slips in two of his fingers as a substitute. Pacifying you. Lets you glide yourself smoothly down his digits, still craving the closeness and stimulation from him. As he’s spreading more of your combined mess around, he scissors them deeper down as you slide further down nudging his knuckles.

“Shh, I know. Feels good having it inside, don’t it?” he murmurs. Licks his lips and continues studying you, your little facial expressions melting. “Someday baby, we’ll make love bare again, and I’ll pump you so full then plug it all up. We won’t leave the bed ‘til we know every last load that goes in gets you nice and full with my baby, or two.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #joel miller/reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine

[delaber]

To Let You Win (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: a sparring match between you and your best friend turns into something you’ve both been keeping under the surface when he refuses to let you lose the game

Words: 2K

Flufffffff 💖 (with a squint towards a smuttier theme hehe)

"Holy fuck it's hot in here," Bucky wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and resumes the fighting stance he'd been occupying before exclaiming that he was sweating balls.

"Alright," you laugh and flip the makeshift knife in your hand, "just tell me if you need a break to regain your strength, old man."

"Oh doll, I don't need a break," he grins and threateningly takes a step towards you without blinking, "I can take you with both arms tied behind my back."

There it is again...

One of those ill-timed comments that you try and laugh away in a poor attempt at hiding just exactly how bad they make your stomach churn and the back of your neck prickle.

Pretending that you do not have a major crush on the man standing in front of you has become full of feeble attempts, and to avoid embarrassing yourself, you settle on an equally threatening "I'd like to see you try," accompanied by a playful smile that you cannot hold back no matter how much you try to.

He winks at you before he, without warning, lurches forwards, swinging his fake dagger mere inches from your chest.

He's quick, but you're quicker, and while he's focusing on touching one of the spots you in unison decided would be considered a kill-zone, you jump as high as you can while wrapping your legs around his hips.

Immediately thrown off balance, he falls backwards and lands on the white felt floor with a dull thud followed by a grunt as your weight lands on top of him.

Before he can even move, you've pinned him to the floor with a knee placed on each side of his torso.

"Surrender?" you grin and lean forwards as you press your wooden weapon to his bopping Adam's apple.

"Okay, you got me," he laughs and raises his hands above his head to capitulate.

You know that he can easily flip the two of you around and turn his fake demise to his own advantage; place his entire weight between your legs as his thick thighs glue your hips to the spot, ready to devour you as he sinks his teeth into your neck, filling up the empty hole inside you that's constantly begging for his touch.

God, he smells amazing!

"Sweetheart," he chuckles from far away and you realise you've done it again; become lost as you daydream about your best friend fucking you into oblivion.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this," he places both hands on your hips and gently pushes you back with a stomach-flipping grunt, "- but my back is killing me, and I really need to change out of this shirt."

Your gaze falls to the hand you have carefully placed on top of his sternum, suddenly aware of the wet stains of his t-shirt and the heavy heartbeat drumming below your fingers.

"Of course," you immediately pocket your fake knife and release the grip you have on him as you stand up. "Sorry," you mumble, embarrassed by yourself and your inability to play it cool whenever you're around him.

"No worries," he winks at you from the side of the ring and reaches behind his head, grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling it off with one swift movement.

You've seen him shirtless countless of times before, but it never ceases to amaze you just how good he looks. He has angry scars extending from his waistline, zig-zagging and digging into the skin lining his entire stomach and chest, reaching all the way up to the torn flesh of his shoulder and it makes him look so fucking beautiful. You know he hates the bare-chested sight of himself in the mirror, but you doubt there could ever be a single facet of Bucky Barnes that you would not love.

"You've been working on your takedown," he eyes you impressively, either ignoring your obvious stare, or choosing not to believe that you actually like him shirtless. "I can't wait to see you break Sam's back with that move," he chuckles, "I love when he's having his ass handed to him."

"I highly doubt that'll happen seeing as Sam doesn't let me win," you mock Bucky while adjusting the strip of cloth that is wrapped tightly around your knuckles. "He actually fights back when he's down."

"Come on, you had a knife pressed to my throat!" Bucky chuckles but you merely raise your eyebrow at him, well-aware that he stopped fighting for the sake of your keeping your confidence intact and not because you'd beat him.

"Okay, okay," he laughs at your dead-pan expression, "maybe I let you win a little. I want it to be fun for you too - so sue me."

"Buck, we're supposed to be training," you sigh, holding your hands out to the side, "how am I ever gonna get better if you won't give me a fair fight?"

"Sweetheart," he licks his lips and squints as he considers how to put his next words in the most delicate way possible. "I bench press more than you weigh... It's never gonna be a fair fight."

"Well if I don't get to practise on you, how do you reckon it'll go when I'm up against a guy your size for real?"

"A guy my size with seventy years of combat training and serum running through his veins? Sure, that's likely to happen..."

You ignore him. "Get down on your back and continue fighting me like you normally would."

He crosses his bulky arms over his chest while arching his eyebrow.

"I'm serious!”

"I don’t care," he shakes his head, “I’m not doing it.”

"Well if you don't, you can consider this our last training session."

"Come on - this is ridiculous!"

"Lie down, same as before."

"You've got to be kidding me," he mumbles under his breath as he rolls his eyes but he still ends up doing as you say. "Happy?" He defiantly throws his arms out to the side when he's once again lying with his back against the white felt.

"Can't say that I'm not enjoying this more obedient side to you," you laugh and sink down on top of him, straddling his chest again, "didn’t think you had it in you - where do you normally keep it?"

"Shut up."

"Then fight me."

"I'm not gonna fight you," he shakes his head.

"Bucky, do me like you normally would!"

His grin broadens in a boyish smile as his hand twitches near your thigh. "Really?" he laughs while licking his lips, mockingly slipping his eyes down to your chest and back up again. "You want me to do you like I normally would?" He winks.

Another stomach flip… You have to suppress a gulp.

"Shut up," you chuckle and lightly smack his arm to get his mind out of the gutter. "You know what I mean."

"Sweetheart," he sighs with serious eyes, his smile still perfectly in place, "- are you sure you really wanna do this?"

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes. "Yes, Barnes..."

"Alright - just remember that you asked for it," he shrugs before he quickly grabs your hips and shifts the position around.

You don't even get to yelp - you barely have time to register what the hell just happened before you're lying on your back with Bucky's lower half pressed to yours, trapping you in place.

His dog tags are dangling in the air between you and you can feel the heat radiating from off his bare chest that is panting enticingly right before your eyes.

"Now, are you happy?" He asks and makes a point of his statement by pressing himself closer to your body, so you're completely sandwiched between him and the floor with no means of escaping.

"Goddammit!"

To further underline his superiority, he pins your wrists together and forces them above your head, holding you steady with one hand only.

"Surrender?" He asks in the same mocking tone of voice you used before, his plump and grinning lips suddenly mere inches from yours.

You can feel your entire body stretching below his, how he drives his hips into yours to keep you in place.

"Fuck," you mumble in frustration and start wriggling your hips to try and get free. "Bucky!" You groan to get him to release you, but even you can hear how your struggling sounds come out almost moan-like, and you see how the smile on his face is suddenly replaced with small, almost inaudible gasps.

Immediately, you stop moving, suddenly aware of the excitement growing tight in his pants while the rest of his body is completely frozen above you.

"Sorry..." you gulp as you slowly look up at him, finding the panicked blue that is half-hidden behind long chestnut strands falling sinfully over his eyes.

You've never been in this position before; on rare occasions you have cuddled long into the night, arms and legs entangled on his bedsheets to the tune of a long-forgotten movie playing in the background - but this? This is different. It's not cute and cuddly.

The look in Bucky's eyes has shifted in a heartbeat, and it's not teasing anymore. It's raw. It's passionate. And when he quickly shifts his gaze down to your mouth and up again, you give in to what you've been wanting to do for months now.

Without thinking, you strain your neck upwards touching the side of his nose with yours, placing a soft kiss on his lips for the first time ever.

He's perplexed - still completely frozen - but when you let go of his mouth shortly after, he wrinkles his brows in silent frustration.

He's panting hard, digging his lower half into you as he looks at you with a fire ignited in his eyes you've never seen before.

You put your hand on his neck, pulling him down towards you, throwing your pillow-soft kisses out the window by placing your thumb on his chin, slipping your tongue inside his open mouth while you move your pelvis rhythmically against his.

"Sweetheart," he whispers with swollen and wet lips as he slightly pulls away. He's breathing hard but his entire body is heavy and relaxed as he looks down at you with lust written all over his warm face - and you choose that exact moment to attack.

Quickly, you wrap your legs around his body as you flip the two of you around so you're finally sitting on top of him again.

"What are you doing?" he pants, confused about your sudden movements.

"Winning," you whisper back with a grin.

It takes him a minute to register your words and set them in connection with the conversation you'd had just before your friendship had passed the point of no return, but when he does, he throws his head back with a frustrating grunt at your dirty trick.

"Not cool," he shakes his head with a chuckle, half-amused, half-annoyed. "Not cool at all. You had me all excited," he groans and puts his hands on your hips, pressing you down on his hard erection.

"Tell me I'm winning," you chuckle as you run your fingers down his chest, suggestively arching your back while he's turning into a mess beneath you.

"Fuck," he groans and rubs circles over your thighs as his erection grows a little harder. "You better not be doing this to the guys you fight in the field."

You put your hand atop of his sternum and slowly start rocking your hips back and forth against him, arching your back while rubbing yourself along the tight bulge underneath you. "Tell me I'm winning."

"You win! You win!" he pants and traces his fingers down your throat and cleavage, laying his palms flat over your stomach as he angles his hips upwards. "Just... don't stop. Don't stop."

"Kiss me, Bucky," you whisper and pull on his dog tags so he can only inch closer to your craving lips.

"Oh doll, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this!" he groans sensually with pink cheeks as he finally reclaims your mouth.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes friends to lovers

[nieceeee]

Can you do a story where ony is a munch (quit pushing me away)

“GIVE ME 10”

Finally got my writing mojo back kinda (still trying to push myself) and I’ve really wanted to start adding more modern au and messages because they are so fun. Let me know if yall like them or not. But heeeeyyyyyy anon😏😘

Thanks for the request baby! I hope this is good enough for you.

PS: Ony’s friends are waiting for him to get on the game but he got a little caught up…

A/N: MDNI, smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, and some other stuff, black coded reader

WC: 748 short and to the point

“Onyyyyyyy.” You groan, manicured nails gripping against his durag. You eyes threaten to roll back into your head as you feel his tongue swipe against your clit. Thick hands gripping either of your thighs, holding your legs apart as the thick pink muscle slurped at your juices repeatedly.

“F-fuuuuuc Ony baby please. Y-your phone.” You whimper underneath him. His phone had been going off nonstop for the past 20 minutes and as much as you tried to focus on the way that he was pleasing you, the constant dinging that rang out in each message was pulling you from your euphoria. You already knew it was his group chat waiting for him. He had mentioned to you earlier that he was going to get on the game later with his boys. Yet he somehow found his way between your legs and all that flew out the window, the dinging falling on deaf ears as he feasted on you.

”Bae- the phone.” You try to pout but it comes out in a breathless moan as you try to push his head. He lifts his head up slightly, gaze narrowed as he meets your eyes. “Try that shit again and I’ll tie your hands above your head. Quit pushing me away.” He growled before lowering his head back between your legs. His authoritative demand doing nothing more but driving you further in a frenzy.

”Oh shit- right there baby.” You cry out as your grip on the back of his head tightens, that familiar ball of fire beginning to burn in your belly. Ony loves the sound you make when he makes you unravel. He flattens his tongue and presses it against your lips, allowing the saliva to drip down to the tip of it, the wetness slipping down to your ass before he swipes his tongue in a zig zag motion all the way up to your clit.

His mouth closes around your swollen bud and he gently pulls it between his lips, the tips of his tongue flicking back and forth against your hood. “Yes pa- fuck.” Your head drops back, pressing against the pillow as your toes curl up. A wave of heat spilling from your belly and moving through every inch of your body as your orgasm threatens to surface. “Ony baby- ‘m close. So fuckin’ close.” You hips buck against his face but his grip tightens around you, forcing you still. He brings his head up spitting onto your clit before slurping the mixture of fluids. The tip of his tongue danced around your clit in circles. You let out a pathetic whine which only pushes him more. The noises you make stroking his ego. His dick hardens with every taste, his tongue moving back down towards your hole as he fucked you with his mouth. “Shit baby, just like that p-please.” Ony’s tongue moves in and out of you as he brings one hand up adding a finger at the same pace. Tongue stroking the upper inside of your pussy as his fingers dive deep on the bottom.

Another ding rings from his phone but you can’t find a reason to care when he has you on teetering on the edge like this. “On-“ “Don’t you dare mention that phone y/n.” He said before dipping right back into his same pattern. Your body jerks against his hold as you feel yourself crash out, juices spurting out of you as he gulps down your wetness.

Heavy breaths leave your chest rising and falling rapidly. You peer down to meet him and your pussy clenches at the sight of your nectar dripping from his chin. “You so fuckin’ sweet.” He groans, dick pulsing in his sweats as his tongue darts out and swipes the taste of you from his lips. You open your mouth to speak but the ring from another message stops you in your tracks. “Onyankopon, if you don't pick that shit up or turn the damn ringer off.” You fuss, lifting up to rest against your elbows. Ony stays hovering above your pussy as his clean hand reaches over to grab his phone. You notice his head lowering back down as he scrolls through the messages. “Ony, what are y-“ your sentence is cut off as his tongue slides against your pussy again, a shudder trailing down your spine.

The warmth of his mouth covers you again as he types out a quick message to send to his friends.

“Give me 10.”

#aot x reader #aot x y/n #fem!reader #smut #ony x reader #onyankapon #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #ony x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon smut #x black fem reader #x black reader #aot x black reader

[starsforselene]

Pairing: Bang Chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit MDNI

Contains: fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving) chatty Chan, masturbation (f) hot roommate walking in on you

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your roommate, Chan so long he’s part of your weekly self love sessions. However, this particular Sunday night, Chan comes home early and overhears you.

Note: it’s just a little self indulgent pointless smut.

—/

“God damn it,” you mutter between clenched teeth as your head hits your pillow.

You fling the now lifeless vibrator across your room where it lands in your dirty clothes pile; with a sigh you stare at the ceiling, the dull ache between your thighs almost mocking you. It’s Sunday night and normally the only time your roommate, Chan, is gone long enough for you to get some alone time in since he’s got his weekly boy’s night at his best friend’s place. As luck would have it you forgot to charge the damn thing after your last session.

Now, you’re laying in bed, half cocked and out of fun options. You could either suck it up and get ready for bed, or handle things…manually. The thought of facing Monday morning unsatisfied is not ideal so you figure it’s better to take care of things the old school way. Closing your eyes, your hand roams down your stomach towards your center, slipping between your folds to gather the slick that had collected from your earlier ministrations, swirling them around your still-swollen clit. You let out a low moan as pleasure starts to build back up, steady and warm in your core.

It’s not long before images start flooding your mind: long, strong hands roaming over your body; soft lips kissing their way through all of your sensitive spots. You gasp as pleasure thrums through your body; visions of dark hair tickling your thighs as a sly smile peeks up from between your legs. A low moan slips from between your lips along with a muttered name as your fingers circle your clit faster desperately wishing it was his mouth, his hands bringing you closer to edge.

“Fuck, Chan,” you whimper, fingers working your bundle of nerves as you picture his tongue there instead.

Your breath quickens as your release approaches, legs buzzing with pleasure that zig zags its way up to your belly where it coils tight. Chan floods your mind: his long fingers inside you, pumping in and out as his lips suck on your clit—things he’s never actually done but you’ve thought of more than you can count. Your hips buck as you approach your high, sheets slipping off into a heap at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, did you remember to put the stuff—Shit!” Chan closes the door as quickly as he opened it.

“Oh my God! Why didn’t you knock! Jesus, fuck—Chan! What the hell!” You shout as you scramble to cover yourself despite the damage being done. Your heart is thundering in your chest, hands shaking as you wrap the sheets around yourself.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t—I just thought that—“ Chan says from the other side of the door, voice filled with panic.

”You thought, what exactly? That you’d barge into my room?!” you shout back as you get up and walk across the room, opening the door to find him standing there, his back to you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be, uh, busy. I wasn’t sure if you had put the clothes in the dryer or if you needed me to do it.”

“You could’ve just looked in the washer? Why are you even home? I thought tonight was boys night?” you ask the back of his head.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. Boys night was cut short, Han has an early meeting tomorrow. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…anything.”

“Turn around, Chan, I’m covered,” you huff as you lean against the doorway.

He obliges, face and ears red as he looks you directly in the eyes as if he’s willing the rest of you to not exist.

“Did you see anything?”

He swallows hard and you know right away that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to be a lie.

”I didn’t, I promise. I was in and out so fast I didn’t really see much.”

“Much or anything?”

“I didn’t see a lot…I promise. It was more what I—nothing.”

“Chan,” you say as he’s looking at the floorboards like they’re fascinating works of art. “It was more than what?”

“What I heard,” he admits, glancing up at you. “Or what I thought I heard! Maybe I misheard you or I made it up or something. Listen, I’m sorry. I’ll just go and we can forget this happened.”

He makes to leave but doesn’t, like he’s got something else to say. Your heart is hammering in your chest along with a thousand thoughts running through your mind.

“Just tell me. I don’t feel like tip toeing around this for days. It’s embarrassing enough you walked in on me masturbating. I don’t want a repeat of the time I caught you in the same position last year. We skirted around each other for weeks, it was beyond tedious.” The memory of that night fueled many Sunday sessions for you but he doesn’t need to know that.

Chan sighs in defeat and runs a hand through his hair as he glances up at you.

”I heard you moaning my name before I came in. At least I thought I did,” he says in a rush.

Your stomach drops down to your feet, heat rushing up your neck and into your face. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find yourself looking at Chan to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t look utterly disgusted, which takes you by surprise. Instead, he meets your gaze with his own, eyes darker than they were a minute ago, the connection sending heat through you. Your breath catches in your throat as you slowly realize that Chan looks the opposite of disgusted.

“Oh. Umm, well…”

“So did you?” he asks, eyes on yours still, slowly peeling away your resolve.

”I might…have…”

The air shifts between you like your admittance has opened a door that barely had hinges to begin with. Chan’s eyes alight with something you can’t quite place but it makes your core throb all the same.

“Why?”

The question catches you off guard and you straighten out of your haze.

“Why what?”

“Why were you moaning my name while you were touching yourself?” he asks as if he’s asking whether you want to make dinner or have take out.

You stare at him, unsure whether he actually wants an answer. He’s watching your face, almost like he wants to make sure he isn’t crossing any lines but also like he’s wanting to see if those lines can be erased instead. Your crush on your roommate is something you barely even acknowledge to yourself but right now, with the way he’s looking at you, it’s hard to think about much else other than your go-to fantasies of him and how they might become reality.

“I-uh-I- was thinking of you,” you say and immediately regret. Shit, why did you just—

“Do you think of me a lot when you do that?”

“Chan, I-“

”I think of you. I think of you a lot, actually,” he says quietly.

Your eyes meet again and that heat flares. You suck in a breath and sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He looks less embarrassed than earlier, that line fully crossed now. He walks into the room and sits beside you, the heat from his body permeating through you.

“You…think of me?” you mutter as you fidget with the edge of the sheet, incredibly aware of how naked you are underneath.

Chan takes a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.

“Yeah, I do. Have for a while.”

A thrill runs down your spine, that familiar heat pulsating in your center. Chan thinks of you when he’s—you take a breath to push the thoughts away.

“I like that you think of me like that,” he adds softly.

You look back up at him and find molten fire in his eyes. It matches the fire burning inside you.

”What do you think of when you think of me?” The words escape you before you can even think of stopping yourself.

Chan smirks, like he knows he’s got you, turning to face you as his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. Your pulse quickens along with your breathing but you immediately want more. His thumb grazes your cheek, he leans in but stops short, as if waiting for you. All thoughts of hesitation leave you, a quick nod is all it takes before he’s bridging the gap between you. His lips are soft, tentative—at least until you kiss him back.

The moment the switch flips is almost tangible. Every glance, every accidental touch, every single time you thought of Chan in ways that you shouldn’t culminate in this moment where his lips are on yours and all you can think is more. You deepen the kiss with a moan, dizzy with this new feeling of having Chan’s lips on yours. His tongue explores your willing mouth, his hands moving down your arms and grabbing around your waist to pull you closer. You groan, his touch igniting small fires in its wake that burn brighter the more he touches you. His lips leave yours with no warning, breaking the kiss; it’s a bucket of ice water over you.

”Do you really wanna know what I think about?” he asks between panted breaths.

God, yes, you almost say but hesitate. You squeeze your thighs together to find reprieve for the ache that robs you of self control. His eyes never leave yours, pupils blown wide as he waits for your answer. The nagging curiosity wins over any doubt that might try and dissuade you; you need to know.

“Yeah, I do,” you whisper.

“Can I show you?”

You’re nodding before you can stop to think about it; all you know is that now that he’s touched you there’s no going back. Chan leans in, electricity sparking between your bodies the closer he gets, and he kisses you softly. His lips move slowly down your cheek, featherlight kisses that travel down your jaw towards your ear where he hovers, breath fanning over the soft shell of your ear.

“Lay back on the bed for me. Make sure you take that sheet off.”

Arousal rushes out of you at his words, a small whimper is your only response as you stand up and gingerly remove the sheet from around your body, exposing yourself to his hungry eyes. He takes in your naked form greedily, tongue darting out to wet his plush lips, an obvious bulge in his pants that makes you clench around nothing as you settle on the bed for him.

Chan stands at the end of the bed and looks at you, at first it’s full of desire but something clouds it. Your furrow your brow, panic rising in your chest. Maybe he’s changed his mind? Maybe it got weird? You know it should feel weird to you but it doesn’t, you’ve had feelings for Chan for far too long but maybe he doesn’t feel the same way? You reach for a blanket to cover up when he sighs.

”Are you having second thoughts? We can stop, you know. I understand if it’s weird,” he says.

Your chest feels light again, at least you’re on the same page—kind of.

”I’m not! I was worried you were having second thoughts—that maybe you didn’t like me like this and just got caught up or something.”

Chan chuckles and kneels on the bed between your legs, running his hands up your legs and settling them on your thighs, making you shiver. He licks his lips as his eyes roam down your body and settle on your face.

“I promise you that I’ve been fantasizing about this for far too long to have second thoughts,” he drawls with a half smile. He lifts your leg and slowly kisses his way up to your knee while his other hand spreads your leg to open you up for him. His eyes are obsidian, his want for you almost palpable. “Watch me baby, hmm?”

A pathetic whimper is all the response you can provide, body covered in goosebumps of anticipation as you watch Chan lower himself between your legs. He takes his time; kissing and caressing your thighs, slowly coming closer to the pulsating heat at your center. He bites and sucks the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs and you gasp, fingers digging into the sheets when he quickly licks the pain away.

You feel the smirk against your skin as you hear his deep chuckle, it’s enough to make you dizzy with need. You’re about to beg for relief when he licks a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit, moaning when he finally tastes you.

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out, shuddering as pleasure rocks through you, hands gripping his hair to keep yourself grounded.

Chan groans against you, tongue circling your clit just enough to make your hips buck up against his face; a silent, desperate plea for more. He doesn’t seem to take, taking his time licking and tasting every last bit of you, making his way back towards your entrance to dive his tongue inside enough to prolong the sweet torture only to stop and taste his way back up towards your throbbing clit. He licks and sucks on your clit until you’re a whiny, quivering mess; every nerve in your body buzzing with pleasure and desire.

“Chan,” you whimper between panted breaths as you lift your head to look at him.

You’re not sure what it is you’re asking for at this point but his dark eyes look up at you with molten desire in them as he smirks.

“I got you,” he purrs as he slowly inserts two fingers into your heat.

The deliciously slow stretch takes your breath away, your head falls back against the pillow as pleasure warms its way through your veins. How he knew what you needed before you did adds to the building tightness in your belly. He hums in approval as his fingers press against the sensitive spot inside you that makes you gasp and clench around his fingers, taking his time stroking it. You writhe on the mattress, Chan’s name falling from your lips with each pump of his fingers in and out of you, stars exploding behind your eyes with every drag of his fingers against your walls.

The heat builds in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter, making your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut. Chan’s soft voice brings you even closer to the edge with each half moaned encouragement like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. He presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves and the room spins, pleasure radiating through you and tears spring to your eyes; it’s too much but not enough.

“P-please, Chan,” you plead, voice barely a whisper, body wound tight.

He groans in response, fingers working you faster as his thumb flicks your clit. It doesn’t take much until the coil inside you breaks and you’re lost to the overwhelming release that crashes over you. Chan moans along with you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he coaxes you through your high.

“Mmm, that’s my girl,” he chuckles darkly as he kisses your inner thigh.

A shiver runs down your spine as you start coming down, everything covered in a sweet haze that envelops you.

“That was…really something,” you breathe, covering your face with your hands.

“Better than what I imagined,” he responds as he kisses his way up your body until he’s settled between your legs.

He caresses your sensitive skin while placing soft kisses over your cheeks and eyelids, sweet nothings about how long he’s wanted you peppered in between.

“What now?” you whisper, a beat of uncertainty panging in your chest.

“We can figure that out in the morning. I’m tired,” Chan replies gruffly.

You giggle and roll your eyes, a smile settling on your lips. You’d argue but you’re tired and satisfied and his arms are way too inviting; you’re not too concerned with whatever comes next.

Knowing him, it’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

#Bang Chan imagine #Bang Chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #skz smut #skz imagines #fic

[daisies-daydreams]

Hi I just found you and OMG I love your Ghostxreader writing. I was wondering if you could write one about a reader that isn’t afraid to stand up to Ghost because she’s sassy and younger but they are doing things behind closed doors. If not that’s okay :)

Pretty Bird (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Inappropriate Work Relationship (reader is a Sergeant), Dom/Sub Themes, Reader is a Brat, "Sir" Kink, Praise/Degradation, Cockwarming, Manhandling, Edging/Orgasm Control, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected P in V Sex (You know the drill), Wall Sex, Creampie, Spankings, Pet names (baby girl, doll, bird), Use of the terms "slut" and "cocksleeve" Word Count: 3.1k+

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you so much for your sweet words. 🥹Reader's nickname is "Sparrow". I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

17:00

“I said one-hundred push-ups, Sergeant,” your lieutenant grunted as he crossed his arms. You shrugged as you took a swig from your water bottle.

“I did…if you divide one-hundred by two,” you smirked while screwing the cap shut. Ghost scoffed and narrowed his eyes.

“You gonna take that, Lt.?” Soap jested as he set down his barbell on the weight rack.

“Shut it, MacTavish,” the Brit snapped. Soap kept his smug smile as he held his hands up. Ghost sighed as he turned back to you, his dark, piercing eyes glaring at you through his skull balaclava. You stood up straight and puffed your chest out a little as he lumbered closer to you. “On the mat. Now,” he growled into your ear. You smirked and licked your lips.

“Gonna discipline me in front of everyone…big bear?” you whispered. Ghost’s eyes widened before he shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Damn right I am. Now, be a good girl and get on your back,” he huffed.

“That’s not what you said last night,” you purred as you rubbed his thick upper arm.

“(Y/N),” he warned.

“Simon,” you said much louder as you mirrored his stance. Ghost narrowed his eyes before grabbing your wrist.

“You. Me. Mat,” he grunted out as he dragged you over. You huffed at his strong grip before he threw you forward. A small crowd began to gather around the training mat as you stumbled over your feet, just barely catching yourself. You whipped your head around. You could tell Ghost was giving you a shit-eating grin with the way the corners of his eyes creased.

“I changed my mind. I want you to tackle me,” he said as he planted his feet firmly on the ground and crossed his arms. You snorted and straightened your posture.

“No problem,” you clicked. Ghost waited-he was as still as a statue as you prepared yourself. Time seemed to slow down as you rushed towards him, slotting a leg inside his ankle as you wrapped one of his arms behind your back. You gasped when you felt his other hand wrap around and snatch the back of your sweaty shirt. You yelped as he easily tossed you aside like a ragdoll, your body tumbling across the mat as several people grimaced at the move.

“You’re slow...and your form is sloppy,” he sneered as he readjusted himself. You clenched your jaw as you pushed yourself back up. You did a little zig zag, drawing a few laughs from your audience as Ghost huffed. “What the bloody fuck are you doing?” he grunted. You smiled as you soon circled around him, swaying your hips as little and giving him a seductive smirk.

A whistle suddenly came from the crowd, causing Ghost to snap his head around. You instantly rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his thick torso as you put your entire body weight into your lunge. You strained against Ghost’s muscular form as he scoffed.

“That the best you got, Sparrow?” he huffed. You suddenly dipped down, your face moving down his stomach as you wrapped your arms around his upper legs.

“No…this is,” you grinned as you tenderly squeezed the inside of his thighs. You heard air rush out from his lungs as you ducked your upper body forward. Time slowed as your shoulders knocked against his knees while you slid forward. Ghost fell onto his hands, catching himself just in time before he face-planted onto the worn, sweaty mat. The room was deadly silent before someone began to clap, then whoop.

Soon you stood up straight, a wide smirk on your face as the small crowd applauded your feat. You glanced at the lieutenant who was barely standing on his slightly wobbly legs. You stepped over and held your hand out. Ghost shifted his gaze between your hand and your sweat-covered face, his presence more than menacing. He sighed as he clasped his hand into yours. You gasped as he pulled you toward him, your chest nearly crashing against his as he leaned close to your ear.

“Meet me in my office at nineteen hundred, Sergeant. I need to discipline you for your infractions,” he husked. You bit your lip.

“And what happens if I don’t come?” you asked as you rubbed your thighs together. Ghost narrowed his eyes before Gaz scoffed.

“For fuck’s sake, would the both of you get a room already?” he spoke. Your jaw dropped while Ghost instantly backed away. Gaz’s eyes widened when he saw Ghost’s deadly stare.

“Aaaand that’s my cue to leave,” the Sergeant said as he turned on his heel. You tapped Ghost’s arm.

“He was just kidding,” you sighed. Ghost grunted as his muscles relaxed a little.

“Nineteen-hundred. Don’t be late,” he grunted. You smirked as he walked away, his legs still somewhat unsteady from your little “trick”.

19:00

You swayed your hips as you walked down the hall. Your fresh pair of clothes hiding the panties and bra that nicely hugged your body. Your heart pounded inside your rib cage as you knocked on the door to Ghost's office.

“Come in,” he called in his low, gruff voice. You bit your lip as you opened the door. Ghost glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes darkening when you shut and locked the door behind you. You turned around to see him pushed back from his desk. His eyes flickered through his mask as he raised one finger and tilted it towards him.

“I’ve got a special form of discipline for you, little bird,” he said as you heard him lick his lips and spread his legs. You slid onto the side of his desk and arched your back.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Simon,” you lilted as you wiggled your ass against the wooden surface. Ghost narrowed his eyes before sliding one of his hands over your hip. You mewled as he squeezed your soft flesh.

“You disobeyed my order and didn't do one hundred push-ups…” Ghost whispered. A lump swelled in your throat as his hand slipped down a little further. “And then you performed inappropriate contact with your superior...in front of a crowd, no less,” he husked. You released a shaky breath as he brushed his fingers over the hand of your pants. You whined as he pulled his hand back, his chair creaking as he adjusted himself.

“Now, take your pants off and take a seat, Sparrow,” Ghost beckoned as he patted his thigh. You turned around and gaped at the large, swollen bulge beneath his slacks. His eyes lit up with amusement as he rubbed up and down his leg. “C’mon then-don’t want to keep your Lieutenant waiting,” he drawled.

You swallowed as you slipped your shoes off and slowly pulled your pants down. Ghost growled when he laid eyes on the midnight black panties that hugged your hips. You walked over and adjusted your hips before sinking down onto his thighs, your legs draped over his own. Your eyes widened when he suddenly dipped his hand below your panties and began to slide his thick digits up and down your juicy slit.

“Fuck, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you,” Ghost murmured before slathering your clit with your warm slick. “You’re a dirty slut, aren’t you?” he whispered. You moaned as he harshly squeezed your thigh. “Say it-say you’re my dirty little slut,” he rasped into your ear as he flicked your bundle of nerves. You shivered in his grasp.

“I-I’m your dirty little slut,” you said as you fluttered your lashes. Ghost groaned, his eyelids drooping down as he rubbed your waist.

“There’s my good soldier,” he breathed. You threw your head back and gripped his forearms as he drew fast, sloppy circles around it.

“S-Simon” you squealed. Your jaw went slack as he slid his middle finger deep inside your gushing hole. Your walls spasmed around his digit as he thrusted inside you-his long, quick strokes making your toes curl and cheeks flush. “Aah,” you keened as your mind was flooded with pleasure.

You whined as you remained spread out on his lap, your panties fully pushed to the side as he plunged his finger deep inside your soft, wet heat. You groaned as he curled his against your g-spot, your walls greedily gripping hit thick digit.

“Look at you-floodin’ my lap, makin’ a mess of yourself,” Ghost grunted as he pumped a second finger inside with a juicy squelch. You panted wildly, your hard nipples rubbing against your bra as your body glowed with heat. Your legs twitched as he scissored his fingers inside your gummy walls, spreading you before pulling back out. You blinked when you felt his lips graze over your cheek.

“Gimme your soft lips, pretty bird,” he purred. You parted your lips before he leaned forward, his fingers working your pussy open while his tongue danced and flickered over yours. You inhaled through your nose; the smell of lingering sweat and gun oil mixed with your sex made your head spin. You moaned as Ghost hungrily devoured your lips in an eager kiss. He tilted his head just as he pressed down on your puffy clit.

“Mmm,” you moaned as you bit your lip. You felt the muscles in your lower stomach start to wind and twist with each swipe and stroke of his digits. Your heart thrummed inside your ears as you heaved.

“Simon, g-gonna cum,” you whimpered as he circled your clit even faster, your walls nearly choking his fingers in a vice grip. You dug your nails into his tattooed skin as your hips raised off his lap. You gasped when he slipped his fingers out, leaving your hole puckering and aching for release. Ghost cooed as you whimpered and bucked your hips forward, his massive, calloused hands splaying over your thighs. You shivered as you felt him smear your slick over your goose-bump ridden skin.

“No, I think you need a bit more discipline before you get to cum,” he murmured. You whined and ground your ass against his lower stomach.

“Please, Simon,” you cried. His pink lips were curved into a frown as he clicked his tongue. You squeaked when he cupped your chin and turned your face towards him.

“Be a good little Sergeant and slowly sink yourself down on my cock,” Ghost rumbled before pecking his lips over your pulse. You moaned as he sucked over the sensitive spot, your walls fluttering around nothing. You gulped as you raised your hips while he pulled out his cock. You squealed when you felt his long, veiny shaft slap against your ass. Ghost sucked in a sharp breath as you grabbed his meaty length and slowly pumped up and down.

“Mmm that’s my good girl,” Ghost growled. You blew a puff of hot air before rubbing his flush tip against your slick hole, teasing him ever so slightly. Both of you groaned as his thick tip breached past the seam of your entrance, your pussy squelching softly with every inch you took.

“Oh my God,” you cried out as you felt his heavy cock throb between your stretched walls.

You grunted as one of his prominent veins brushed over your sensitive spot, shivers coursing through your whole body. You gasped when his whole cock sheathed inside you, the feeling of fullness sending bolts of pleasure through your core. Ghost smoothed his hand over your hip while bringing his other up to your lips. Your face flushed as you felt him tap his fingers against your mouth, your slick spreading over your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth slightly before he slid them in. You moaned at the heady taste of yourself he slowly pushed and pulled his digits inside your wet cavern. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, drawing a satisfied grunt from the lieutenant.

“I knew you could be a good girl if you just tried,” Ghost chuckled as he took his pen into his other hand. You slurped up your arousal as your brows furrowed. He hummed quietly as he returned to his work, his dark eyes now scanning over his papers. You huffed and sank your teeth down a little. Ghost glanced over at you.

“Not yet. Gotta wrap a few things up first,” he muttered as he flipped a page, his lips drawn in an unenthused frown. You flared your nostrils as your walls hugged him tightly, your body screaming for release. You tried you bounce yourself on his shaft, only for him to hold you down with his other hand.

You gasped once he finally drew his fingers out, your lungs swelling with air as you panted. Ghost slowly drove his digits into his own mouth, suckling on it while he kept his gaze on a new set of papers. You keened when he pulled them out with a wet “schlick”. Your entire body trembled as you held yourself back from raising your hips.

“I have to admit: it was pretty clever of you to use my weak spot during the sparring session today,” he piped up. You raised your brows as you let your back sink into his chest.

“Really?” you asked. Ghost flipped another page and nodded.

“Sure...had to keep up appearances, though,” he commented. You hummed.

“That’s not the only thing you can keep up,” you retorted as you squeezed his cock between your walls. Ghost clenched his fist around his pen as he let out a small groan.

“(Y/N),” he warned. You wore a wry smirk as you clenched around his dick again. Ghost nearly stabbed the paper in front of him as he hissed between gritted teeth. “Stop,” the lieutenant grunted. You chuckled.

“What’s the matter, Si?” you lilted. Ghost exhaled sharply as you rubbed your hips back and forth, his grip becoming looser over your waist.

“Love, keep doin’ that and I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” you teased before kissing the corner of his mouth. Ghost stiffened beneath you as you flexed your pussy again, his cock twitching inside your tight heat.

“I’m not goin’ to fall for this,” he grunted impatiently as he tapped his pen against the papers.

“Even if I let you cum inside me?” you purred. Ghost stopped tapping his pen. You gasped when he pulled you off of him before flipping you around. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck as he attacked your pulse with deep bites and vibrant hickeys.

“So...I’ll take that as a yes?” you smirked. Ghost grunted before snatching your legs in his strong grasp. You yelped when he lifted you up, your calves finding their way around his torso as he lumbered towards the wall. Your eyes widened as the muscular man pressed you against the flat surface, the cold chill of the smooth paint making you shudder.

You rolled your head to the side when Ghost pushed inside you in one fluid thrust, his lips attached to your neck all the while. The balls of your feet squeezed against his lower back as your lieutenant pounded into your warm pussy, each stroke more savory than the last.

“You want my cum, hm? Want me to fill up this tight, slutty cunt?” Ghost snarled, his voice thick with carnal desire. You nodded, tears of pleasure streaming down your hot cheeks as you felt his mushroom-like tip kiss your cervix.

“God yes,” you moaned. Ghost gave a gravelly chuckle as he snapped his hips forward.

“Yeah, you love being stuffed with this thick cock, don’t you?” he rasped into your ear. You whined and nodded, nearly knocking your head against the wall.

“Yes!” you sobbed as you felt your muscles grow tight inside the deep pit of your belly. You yelped when he sank his teeth into your shoulder.

"'Yes' what?" Ghost groaned as he felt your pussy deliciously squeeze his shaft, your slick dripping down his balls and onto the polished floor. You swallowed.

"Y-Yes sir," you moaned. He grunted in approval as he bucked his hips.

“Look at you makin’ a mess again-my little cocksleeve,” he breathed. Your legs shook as you heard the wet 'plaps' of skin meeting skin, your breathing growing more ragged with each thrust.

“Shit Simon,” you whined as you ran your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. Ghost bared his teeth as his calloused hands squeezed the supple flesh of your ass. You shoved your face into his shoulder and screamed as the head of his cock grazed over your g-spot.

“Be a good slut for me and milk my cock of every last drop, yeah?” he growled. You nodded as your body lit up with pleasure, dangling on the edge.

“Y-Yes…Yes! Yes!” you yelled as your gummy walls clamped down on his dick. Both of you moaned as you rolled your hips forward, your walls convulsing around his thick, sensitive shaft.

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Ghost breathed as he shallowly thrusted inside your gushing hole. Your entire body shook as your orgasm violently rolled over you, your mind completely numb with bliss. Ghost gripped your ass as you soaked his shoulder with your drool. “That’s it, soak my cock baby girl,” he grunted. You felt each powerful thrust inside you, his tip kissing your cervix each time.

“Mmm, S-Simon,” you slurred as your legs loosened around his hips. Ghost rumbled as he screwed his eyes shut.

“Could stay in this perfect pussy forever,” he gasped as he snapped his hips forwards. You dug your nails into his back as you felt his cock twitch against your over-sensitive walls. You groaned his name as he pushed up with a harsh thrust.

“Fuck!” he growled as he shoved you all the way down on his girthy dick. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his cum flood your tight pussy, your gummy walls quickly getting soaked with his milky seed. "That's it, sweetheart," Ghost huffed as his cock throbbed inside your weeping sex.

You flexed your toes as you felt a small bump swell beneath your mound. His cock twitched for the last time as he puffed a breath of hot air over your skin. You shivered as his cum began to leak out of your cunt and down his veiny shaft, your sweltering bodies pressed against each other in a sweaty mess. Ghost panted against your neck before he slowly lowered you to the floor, his dick slipping out with a juicy "pop". You sighed as he steadied you.

"You feelin' alright?" he asked. You nodded as your knees nearly knocked together.

"Y-Yes," you replied. You gasped as he grabbed your waist and flipped you around.

“Good-'cause I'm not done disciplining you yet, Sergeant,” he tutted lowly as he slapped your ass.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

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#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #reader insert #cod x reader #cod smut #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost cod #smut #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod x you #ghost cod x y/n #simon riley x f!reader #ghost x f!reader #cod mw3 #call of duty mw3 #mw3 #mwiii

[hoseoksluna]

STORY | knj

pairing: soft dom!namjoon x reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.8k

summary: yours and namjoon’s story is a bit more perverted than traditional.

warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck

note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!

side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.

Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.

The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.

A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.

The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.

You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.

Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.

The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.

It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes. 

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.

It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.

No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.

He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.

The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.

“Is the water warm enough?”

The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”

You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.

In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.

Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.

You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.

Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.

Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.

He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.

Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.

He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.

The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.

Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.

You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.

Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.

“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.

Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”

A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.

“Is the water warm enough?”

You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.

“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.

He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.

“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”

Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.

“Did something happen today at work?”

Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.

“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye. 

Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.

“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.

He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary. 

You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.

“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.

To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.

To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.

“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.

A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”

You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”

Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence. 

“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”

Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm. 

He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”

Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together. 

This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.

You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is. 

“Can I see?”

The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up. 

Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.

Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit. 

You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.

“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well. 

“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you. 

It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.

A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.

“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls. 

Namjoon whines. 

The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you. 

He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.

“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps. 

You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.

“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.

“Just don’t hit me, okay?” 

He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?” 

“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

He stares at you for a moment.  

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”

Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable. 

“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.” 

“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.” 

“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water. 

“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.” 

You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.

“Say you’re sorry.”

You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?” 

You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” 

He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.

“What for?”

He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath. 

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”

“Hm, do you regret it?” 

You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”

“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”

Fuck.

“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop. 

You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you. 

“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.” 

He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time. 

Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips. 

He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.

Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.

You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away. 

“Take it in your mouth.” 

Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins. 

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”

He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him. 

“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”

You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure. 

Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.

Inhale, exhale. 

Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.

“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”

You nod your head yes. Pout. 

“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.” 

You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind. 

“Better now?”

You nod again.

“Words.”

You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”

“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”

“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.” 

Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken. 

“Hands behind your back,” he rasps. 

You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.

“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.” 

It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit. 

He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”

You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Focus on your breathing, okay?” 

“Yes, Namjoon.”

Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom. 

“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.” 

You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him. 

He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?” 

You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in. 

He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.

Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.

“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain. 

Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.” 

You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness. 

His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.

You start blabbering. 

“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.” 

Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.

“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?” 

You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”

Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”

You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp. 

Then, you get an idea.

Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin. 

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”

He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.

You rub circles on your clit instead.

“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.

His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum. 

You make it easy for him. 

Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.

“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”

You pause. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.” 

You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 

Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”

Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants. 

The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.

“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?” 

Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours. 

He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.

You cry out.

“Namjoon!”

Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response. 

“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”

You nod.

“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.” 

“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.” 

Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile. 

Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.

“Sit up.”

Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you. 

He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.

It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react. 

Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain. 

It’s brutal. It’s wet. 

Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can. 

“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him. 

“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him. 

“Please, Daddy, come for me.” 

Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—

“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”

The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too. 

Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.

It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.  

And he does. 

Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life. 

You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair. 

You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window. 

Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”

Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.

He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.

Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass. 

Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again. 

He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it. 

Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.

“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.” 

Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit. 

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can. 

“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste. 

You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak. 

Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.

“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.” 

His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old. 

And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.

“One.” 

You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles. 

“Two.” 

A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand. 

“Three.”

The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.

“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.” 

You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades. 

“Six.” 

Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.

“Eight.”

The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away. 

“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”

And you do.

It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.

Namjoon strokes your hair. 

He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest. 

He kisses you. “Are you okay?”

You nod with droopy eyelids. 

He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them. 

Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly. 

“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Hello love 💗 I hope you’re doing well! Are your requests open? If so I was wondering if I could request how the Strawhats react to you having to sit on their laps. Mostly looking for Zoro’s reaction 😭😭 he’s my currently fixation and I had a dream last night that he let me sit on his lap so I’m just obsessed. But if you plan on doing headcanons then maybe you can include Luffy and Sanji as well? Or whoever else you’d like to write for ☺️.

Perhaps they’re in an awkward/cramped situation and they have nowhere to go other than on his lap. And reader can be in a relationship with him or not yet. That’s up to you :D I hope this makes sense and thank you in advance if you’re able to write this! If not, then no worries ☺️ have a lovely day!

Omg I love this so much. And yes! my requests are currently open! (also I love Zoro too and i'm so jealous of your dream). Thank you for your request :) It ended up not being exactly your request because it ended up being confession scenarios when you're on their lap, and I'm sorry about that and I hope you still enjoy what I wrote. I tried to make it up with the amount I wrote lol.

I made this pretty fluffy, because I wasn't sure you'd be comfortable with anything spicy. Reader/character do end up kissing though. . Also I headcanon that Zoro would be so soft at first with his S/O because he might not have the confidence in emotions like that.

I am so whipped for Ace and I wanted to write him for so long but didn't know how to start so thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to.

Warnings: Small spaces, kissing, confessions, swearing (Ace part - suggestive, angst if you squint)

Monster Trio's + Ace's reaction to their crush confessing while sitting on their laps

Soft!Zoro, Luffy being Luffy idk what to say, Smooth!Sanji, Flirty!Ace

Running from the marines was exhausting, you had to admit. Ducking into alleys, climbing over walls and gates, knocking over crates and barrels, and zig zagging to avoid gunfire was more exercise than you ever wanted in your life. Yet, here you were, running for your life from the marines. Again. You glanced to your side, looking at the cause of the chaos. Even though you had a huge, fat crush on him, that didn't stop him from being a pain in the ass in moments like this. You opened your mouth to scold him, but fresh blasts of gunfire from behind you lead to him looping an arm around your waist and hauling you suddenly to the side, down a skinny alley. It was a dead end- or at least looked like it.

"Now what-" you broke off your hissed annoyance with a quiet yelp of surprise as he yanked you down another smaller alley, hidden around an unnoticeable corner at the end of the previous alley. A small, ornate wooden door was hauled open by your crush's hand before you even noticed it. He shoved the both of you inside and slammed shut the door. You ignored the musty damp smell of your surroundings as you tried to catch your breath in the dark, tiny closet.

You heard boots echo down the first alley you went down. You readied yourself to fight as you heard slow steps approaching the door that was nearly pressed to your nose. You felt your partner in crime shift behind you, readying to fight as well. You held your breath, lungs burning from the effort as a hand on the outside jiggled the handle. You heard the distinct clang of metal breaking. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Did that marine really just break the door? How is that even possible? How the hell can we get out?

You barely registered the marine reporting that he didn't find you two as he walked off. You felt your crush release a breath at the retreat of the Marines.

"He broke the door" you muttered to yourself. You ran your fingers over the door, finding no latch or handle on the inside.

"Why did we have to get locked in a closet on the one island with weird fucking doors? Those damn local craftsmen are too good" you groaned. You heard shuffling behind you, and suddenly a light from a small lantern exposed your surroundings- a tiny forgotten utility closet. You glanced behind you at your crush. He held the lantern up, and looked at the door that was nearly pressing into your nose.

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

Zoro

"I hate you so much right now" you hissed as you let your head thud against the door.

"Not my fault. Now open the door" he said with a shrug you felt on your back. Seething, you glared at him over your shoulder before running your fingers over what could be the latch. As you suspected, it was broken. You weren't getting out of here unless someone came and saved you from the outside. You huffed a sigh.

"I can't. The marine broke it"

"What do you mean the marine broke it? If the door's broken, you should be able to open it!"

"Do I look like an expert in fucking doors? You know this island has incredible craftsmen. It doesn't even have an obvious lock!"

"Don't yell at me, it's not my fault the doors are so weird in this place!"

You took a deep breath. Bickering wouldn't get you anywhere.

"Would you be able to cut through the door?" you asked hopefully. Zoro shook his head.

"If it were just me in here, yeah. But with you here as well, I can't even draw my sword fully without cutting both of us." You nodded, understanding, but disappointed.

"Do you have the baby den-den mushi?"

He nodded, and his chest pressed heavily against you as he rummaged around. You breathed a sigh of relief as he produced it. You quickly called the Sunny, reporting the situation to Robin, who had just gotten back from exploring the town. She said she would send a clone to start looking for you, but it would be best to report it to Luffy. You thanked her, hung up, and called Luffy. You reported the situation, and Zoro had to yell at him to shut up to get him to stop laughing. He hung up with the promise of searching for you, though he didn't ask where you were. Not that you would've been able to tell him when Zoro was leading the way.

You groaned, letting your head thud against the door.

"Tired?" the swordsman asked. You nodded, shifting your legs slightly. They ached from sprinting and dodging bullets, and there was nowhere to sit. Zoro cleared his throat and shifted an overturned bucket behind him with his foot.

"You... you can sit on my lap" he suggested. His face was flushed in the lantern light, and it was unusual for him to stutter over his words. His reaction and his words made your heart skip a beat.

"Uh.. sure" you said shyly. He pulled you to his chest and sat on the bucket. You shifted your legs so your ass was on one of his thick thighs and your thighs draped over his other thigh. He seemed unsure where to put his hands. You snorted, grabbing one and winding it around your back, and guided the other to rest in your lap. You could feel the heat of his flushed face, and could smell the faint sweet freshness of sake and tang of metal. You relaxed into his embrace, leaning your shoulder on his chest and letting yourself imagine for a second that maybe, he liked you too. You felt him shift a little.

"You okay?" you asked. You looked at his face, and he almost looked like he was scowling, lost in thought.

"Yeah... just..." he trailed off. Thinking he was uncomfortable, you went to stand again. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you close. You looked at him questioningly. You almost felt like his heart was being faster against your arm

"Just?" you prodded. He looked away, and swore under his breath.

"Just... this is nicer than I thought it would be" he admitted quietly.

"Yeah, it is"

You both froze at your unconscious agreement. He looked at you, blush still tinging his cheeks red. You babbled on nervously, your face heating.

"I-I-I mean... without being locked in a tiny closet or uh... the weird old smell in here... not that you don't smell good... you do! Like sake and metal and that's hot... I mean hot like... people could be attracted to it! Heh. I mean you're really attractive and a great man so you could get anyone you wanted... but yeah I guess sitting on your lap is nice? Not in a sexual way though... just being close to you... right? Being close to people you like is gr-"

You were cut off by heavily calloused fingers guiding your chin so slightly chapped lips could close over yours. It took you a moment to be able to relax into the kiss, letting him set the pace and guide your movements. Eventually, once air became a necessity, you broke apart.

"I like you too" he said gruffly, as if the words had never left his lips before. You stared at him, meeting his serious gaze.

"Be mine." It was a demand and a question.

You nodded, so incredibly glad you ended up locked in a forgotten, tiny room with him, sitting on his lap, and sharing kisses and jokes.

Or at least, until Luffy managed to bust down the door with his sandaled foot. Zoro protected your body with his own, easily flipping you so you were under him.

"Luffy! Be fucking careful!" Zoro snapped at his captain. Luffy waved him off, questioning you about whether or not you were hungry. You giggled, nodding. As the three of you walked back to the Sunny, Luffy noticed something strange.

"Hey, Zoro. How come you said you couldn't get out? You easily could've broken that door down with your bare hands."

Zoro's responding blush had you snorting and giggling, and he playfully gently shoved you away.

"Shut up Luffy!"

"Huuuhh? What did I do? You could've easily broke it down!"

You broke into loud laughter at this, responding before your new boyfriend combusted from embarrassment.

"He wanted to spend extra time with me, Luffy"

"OH! I didn't know you two were such good friends!"

"We're more than friends now. He's my boyfriend" you announced. Luffy stopped and blinked at the two of you before a wide grin split his face.

"Okay! If you're with him all the time maybe he won't get lost as much. Now lets go! I'm hungry!"

You grabbed Zoro's hand and chased after the captain's sprinting figure, a grin plastered on your face.

Luffy

"Are you going to open the door?" Luffy asked. You let your head thud against the wood.

"I can't. The marine broke it." you replied despondently. You heard Luffy hum.

"Lemme try!"

You felt his stretchy arms slither beside you. He felt around on the door, but suddenly slumped forward against your back.

"What's wrong?!"

"Sea prism stone" he slurred, head tucked on your shoulder. Your heart thudded as you felt his breath whisper on your neck, but dragged your focus back to the issue.

"Sea prism stone?! In a door to a storage room?!"

You felt him nodding against your back. You sighed. Damn it.

"Okay. Sit down. Let me see if I can take a better look at it"

You helped him slide off your back, ignoring the electrifying feeling of his skin against yours. I really have it bad for this man. He clumsily sat down on an overturned bucket behind him, but his knees knocked into the back of yours, sending you falling backwards onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, catching you against his chest.

You froze at the contact. You could feel the heat of his bare chest and stomach through your shirt, and you really wanted to blame that on the heat that flooded to your cheeks. But you knew better.

"S-sorry" you stuttered out. You felt Luffy shrug behind you before holding you closer.

"It's fine. Now we get to cuddle!"

You giggled nervously.

"You cuddle with everyone on the crew?" you asked lightly, turning your attention back to the door in front of you. The space was so small that your shoulder was still resting against the captain as your fingers brushed over the door when your arm was held out in front of you.

"Not really, I mean I'll hug them, but I like you so I want to cuddle with you."

Your gaze snapped back to the captain, who was already looking at you with a soft smile. You couldn't believe it, so you tried again.

"You like the rest of our crew though" you said softly.

"Yeah, but not like I like you. I feel funny when you're around. Like my stomach drops like I'm falling when you touch me, or laugh at my jokes. I want to hold you and kiss you, if you'll let me".

You blinked at him, a happy smile curving your lips.

"I'll let you do that, Luffy. I like you more tha-"

He cut you off with a sudden bruising kiss. It was a messy clash of lips and tongues and teeth. It was too wet and messy. But it was perfect, because it was Luffy. He was messy and chaotic, but at the same time, a ball of calm sunshine. He broke the kiss, breath quickened.

"This means you're mine now" he murmured, running his hand over your hair. You smiled.

"It also mean that you're mine" you parroted teasingly. He grinned at you, chuckling. You pressed a palm against the side of his face, thumb brushing gently over the scar under his eye.

"But that doesn't solve how we're going to get out of here" you muttered. He hummed.

"Let's call the Sunny, see who can come get us" he said, producing the baby den-den mushi after some rummaging and shifting.

The two of you called, and Sanji picked up. Luffy reported the general situation, and you filled in important details.

"Oh! Also, the two of us are dating now!" Luffy proudly proclaimed. You lightly smacked him upside the head.

"Ask me before telling everyone that!" you chided. Sanji started nagging him too about asking your partner before doing some things. Luffy sulked, and you couldn't stand those puppy dog eyes. You sighed.

"Fine, fine. You can tell the crew".

His answering grin made you blush and giggle. Sanji sighed at the captain's antics, but offered his sincere congratulations, muttering something about how it was damn time. Bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand, he promised to call Robin to help search for you, but he didn't know how long it would take. He was watching the ship while the others went out, but he would notify them as well. You were about to thank him when you were interrupted.

"Oi. Curly Brow. Is that you?" came a deep voice through the door. Your new boyfriend perked up.

"Ooohh! Zoroooo!! You found us!"

"Luffy?!"

"Zoro! We're locked in! Can you cut the door open? There's not much room in here, so be careful! Oh and there's sea prism stone somewhere in the door" you called. Sanji sighed on the den-den mushi, grumbling about how Zoro's ability to get lost finally came in handy for once. You thanked Sanji and quickly hung up. With a warning to stay back, Zoro sliced easily through the door.

"How in the hell did you get stuck in there?" the swordsman demanded. Luffy poked his head over your shoulder, grinning.

"We were chased by marines and then one of them accidentally broke the door, but the inside of the door had sea prism stone or somethin'" he recounted.

"What the hell kind of door is that?"

You shrugged, stretching upwards as you freed yourself from the cramped space.

"I dunno. It was stupid. But at least I got to confess and we kissed!" Luffy added on excitedly. Your face heated with a blush, and you hid a grin. Zoro laughed, smacking your new boyfriend on his shoulder.

"See? I told you just to do it!"

"You knew?!" you exclaimed. Zoro smirked at you.

"Everyone but you knew. He's not exactly subtle."

You groaned, shoving your face in your hands. Apparently, you had some things to catch up on.

Sanji

He looked at you, his visible blue eye shining with regret.

"I'm sorry I handled you so rough back there" he muttered, breath whispering against your cheek. You swore you saw tears of regret brimming in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat.

"Hey hey, it's okay. You saved me from the marines. I probably would've gotten shot and captured if you hadn't done that" you soothed. He scowled at the idea of you getting captured. You smiled at him, hoping the dim light didn't expose your darkened cheeks.

"C'mon. See if you can get this door open. I didn't have any luck" you muttered. You shifted to the side, trying to get him to pass by you, but the space was too small. You ended up chest to chest. Warmth bled through his buttoned shirt, jacket left unbuttoned for once. You cleared your throat, sure you were going to combust from embarrassment. You smelled the cloying smoky sweetness from his preferred cigarettes, the fresh scent of his cologne, and hints of what he cooked for breakfast. You looked to the back of the closet, away from his gaze, willing your heart to stop beating so fast against his obviously chiseled chest.

"S-sorry. Can you get it like this?" you muttered. The vibration of his considering hum echoed through your chest. Were you breathing? Oh god why did he smell so good? He's so warm.

"My fingers may be skilled, but I can't get it. The only way to open the door now would be to break it down from the outside, seeing as there's no room for me to kick it open"

Your face was flaming, and you stopped listening after the first sentence. You'd dreamed about what those fingers could do, and he just unknowingly admitted to it.

"Are you okay? You feel warm" he said, raising the hand opposite the door to your forehead. You squeaked at the touch.

"If you're claustrophobic, I'm sure I can find some way out of here quickly."

"No, that's not it" you admitted quietly.

"No? Look at me" he said. He sounded worried. You held back an embarrassed groan and tilted your head to look at him.

"What's wrong? Did you get hit? Are you in pain? Those damn marines-"

"Sanji. I'm fine" you finally interrupted. You felt the hand he used to feel your forehead nudged your shoulder slightly so you could stand in front of him again. You followed the silent request, and he kept you facing him. You let his gaze roam over your form, resolutely looking away towards the door over your shoulder as if you were studying the mechanism.

"You're not bleeding" he observed. You snorted.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired" you said with a small smile, finally gaining the confidence to look back at his face. His worry disappeared with a relieved smile.

"Sit on my lap then. There's a bucket I can sit on behind me" he suggested. His cheeks became rosy, but you brushed off the reaction. It would be a cold day in hell before you passed up such an opportunity, so you nodded shyly. He wrapped you in his arms and spun you around, guiding you in what felt like a short dance as he took a seat. You shifted until you were comfortable on his lap. His legs were pure, solid muscle, you noticed quite happily.

"Better? We did run quite far from the marines." His breath tickled your ear, and you nearly choked on your spit at the intimacy of the position.

"Y-y-yeah"

"Your heart is still pounding and your face is red. You sure you're okay?"

This time you let out a groan, and his arms tightened around you.

"I'm fine, Sanji! I just have feelings!" you blurted. You slapped a hand over your mouth immediately.

"Feelings?" he echoed. Oh no why did I say that? He doesn't feel that way about me. Just look how he is with Nami and Robin!

"Romantic feelings? For me?" he asked. You were too focused on your internal panic to register the shocked excitement in his voice. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as you nodded. Too late to back out now. One of his hands gently removed yours and tilted your chin so you were looking at him.

"Mon amour. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. How can I say no to perfection, to the one I've loved since I first saw you?"

"...what?" you squeaked. This was insane. He... He liked you... like that? Like you liked him? Loved you? He smiled broadly at you, his cheeks tinging pink.

"I wish you had let me confess in a more romantic setting, but anywhere with you is paradise"

That was all the confirmation you needed. You slowly leaned towards him, your gaze flicking between his lips and his visible eye. He looked surprised, but met you halfway. He let you guide the pace, keeping the kiss chaste and loving. You broke away eventually, needing air. Your eyes slipped back open.

"Sanji. Your nose is bleeding."

"Ahn~~~ I just can't help it! You're so amazing!"

You giggled. This was the Sanji you knew - hearts in his eyes and his fawning words. You hugged him, planting a kiss on his cheek. He swooned.

"So... maybe, do you want to go on a date later?" you asked in his ear. His nose bled more, and you started laughing.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now give me the baby den-den mushi so I can call the Sunny so someone can come get us out of here. I'm getting kind of hungry."

That snapped him back to his senses.

"You're hungry? My love, I will make you only the best food!"

"Thanks babe but we need to get out of here first"

"Of course! Anything for you! Hold onto my neck" he instructed, holding your body bridal style. He stood, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You felt his balance shift, before a vicious kick to the door sent it flying off its hinges and crashing into the far wall of the slim alley.

You looked at the door in shock before looking at him. He shrugged, a blush coloring his cheeks.

"It was a good excuse to spend time with you"

You laughed loudly, hiding your face in his chest.

"Lets go back to the Sunny, lover boy" you teased. He looked like he was desperately concentrating on not getting a nose bleed, and managed to smirk at you instead.

"Of course, my love"

Ace (slightly suggestive, angst if you squint)

"You have got to be fucking kidding me" you hissed, letting your head thud against the door.

"In my defense, he left his plate unsupervised"

"It was a REAR ADMIRAL! You and your stupid shirtless torso got us in trouble AGAIN!"

"Hey! I'm proud to wear the old man's jolly roger!"

"I am too, Ace! But sometimes we need to be subtle around Marines!"

Ace sighed heavily.

"You like that I'm shirtless though" he teased. You stubbornly kept your gaze on the door, fiddling with the broken mechanism as your blush ran wild.

"Shut up and see if you can open the damn door" you muttered. He reached around your waist, but immediately retracted his fingers once he brushed against it.

"Sea prism stone" he hissed. You thudded your forehead harshly against the door. Why the hell is sea prism stone in a storage room door??

"Once we get out of here, you're fucking dead" you hissed.

"I'd prefer if I was just fucking" he joked. You glared at him, reigning in your indecent thoughts. You sighed heavily.

"Yeah, well, me too. Now call for help on the baby den-den mushi. Hopefully someone can find us before you get too hungry again" you ordered. He quickly dug it out and reported the situation, along with a rough set of directions. You turned to face him, studying him. You knew now why he was the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates- he quickly could take stock of a situation, plan, and escape or fight. He recognized his surroundings and could communicate them to others, but was also incredibly strong and a great fighter. You didn't realize you were staring until he met your gaze after ending the call.

"What? Like what you see?" he said with a smirk. You shrugged.

"I think there's a lot to you that you don't show people. You're lighthearted and funny, but you have a lot of... hmmm... depth? Yeah. I was completely lost following you around, but you got the general location, and reported all the necessary details, including the sea prism stone. You're kinda impressive"

He blinked at you, a blush tinging his tanned cheeks red as you talked, and a humble smile curving his lips.

"Thanks. I guess" he mumbled. You nodded. He shuffled his feet a little, and jolted when his boot kicked an overturned bucket. He ran a hand through his black hair.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked. You shook your head, knowing he could fall asleep at any given moment, and you really didn't want him to fall on you. He took a seat on the bucket, but his knees knocked into yours, and you pitched forward with a small yelp. Warm hands caught you easily around your waist.

"Whoops" he said, grinning. Your breath hitched. The two of you were nearly nose to nose... if you just...

"Looks like you'll have to sit in my lap." He maneuvered your body so you were sitting sideways in his lap, his knees spread so you were balanced perfectly.

"T-thanks" you stuttered. He hummed an affirmative.

"Ace?"

He looked at you, a smile playing at his lips.

"I... I understand why you're the second division commander. And... I'm happy you are"

He tilted his head curiously.

"Where's this coming from?"

"I... I dunno. I just feel like you need to hear it sometimes."

You felt him stiffen at your words before he relaxed with a chuckle and held you closer in a hug.

"'s why I like you, ya know"

Your heart thudded, and your breath hitched. For a second, it sounded like he was saying he liked you. Romantically. But you shook your head. The two of you were friends, and that's probably all he would see you as.

"You like a lot of people" you said, shrugging as if your own words didn't make your heart clench with loneliness.

"Sure. But..." he sighed, and you could feel tension seeping into his body again. He felt warmer, as if he was trying not to catch on fire.

"I don't like them the same way I like you..." he muttered quietly. He started nervously babbling as you stared at him, incredulous.

"I know you won't ever see me the same way, but for our friendship, you know... it's only fair that I tell you so I can get over these feelings. But god. Fuck. You're just so... amazing. Strong. You make me laugh, and make me fucking weak. I love you, more than a friend. I'm made of fire but damn if you don't ignite something in me. I love you in a way I've never experienced before and it's so scary because I know there's no hope but-"

You cut him off with a hand tilting his head towards you, and swiftly covering his lips with yours. He tasted like the smell of heat, his lips were chapped, and he didn't kiss you back. But you knew why. You pulled back with a smirk, sliding your hand back to tangle your fingers in his black locks. You couldn't help the giggle at his blank, shocked expression.

"Kiss me back, firefly. I love you too."

This time, at the pull of your hand, he met you halfway. He took control of the kiss, kissing you desperately like he was making up for lost time. His large, warm hand cradled your jaw. You broke the kiss eventually when you started laughing giddily. He started peppering tiny kisses all over your face and down your neck.

"Remember earlier how I said you'd be fucking dead once we got out of here?"

"Mmmhmm"

"Do you remember what you said in reply?"

"...huh? Oh. Yeah"

"Well, once we get out of here, you can show me what you can do, cowboy"

He gazed at you, eyes wide with wonder. Without another word, he picked you up bridal style, and launched a vicious kick at the door. It went flying into the far side of the wall of the alley, and he staggered a little from the sea prism stone, but quickly darted out of the closet. He quickly put you down and then picked you up so you were on his back. He sprinted past part of the crew that was obviously on their way to find you, shouting quickly over his shoulder that you were both fine now.

You could only wave and laugh at their bewildered looks as he carried you away.

#zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #zoro x you #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy x reader #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece #confession #love confessions #sitting on his lap #small spaces

[quack-quack-snacks]

Star Crossed - Chapter 2

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Zombies, gore, normal AOUAD things Word Count: 6,347

As you leaned your head back against the tree trunk, the rhythmic beat of your favorite song playing through your ears and the rest of the world canceled out, you didn’t notice the horde getting closer.

Su-hyeok was running down the hall after searching practically the entire school and still not finding you. Telling his friends he was going to go play basketball to spare himself some time to find and talk to you seemed like a good idea when the world wasn’t ending but now he was just even more lost with what he should do.

There was no way he wasn’t going to keep looking for you. No. He would rather die than leave you all alone in a zombie fucking apocalypse. Knowing you and how you shared a habit of listening to your music too loud at all times with Nam-ra, you wouldn’t hear the screams even if they were right next to your ears.

He was going to find you and keep you safe if it’s the last thing he did.

Everything seemed to be going wrong today; first, Hyeon-ju had been kidnapped by the science teacher and passed out in the middle of class; second, On-jo confesses to him on the stairway; then, he finds out his classmates have turned into blood thirsty, flesh eating monsters and he can’t seem to find you no matter where he looks.

So much for confessing on her birthday.

He had been planning the day for months.

He was going to take you to the roof - which he’d gained access to earlier that morning to put a set of picnic required items in a cooler - then he would stop you at the door after class and ask you to have lunch with him - just the two of you - which he was sure even if you were hesitant about he would be able to convince you that he didn’t care about how others saw him and you would give in.

After that, he would cover your eyes and walk you up the stairs, you would laugh that soft laugh of yours when he would purposely walk you in zig-zags and do 180s just for more time with you.

Then, he would finally lead you up to the roof where a bouquet of flowers would be resting against the wall in the corner. The two of you would eat and drink the foods he provided and he would ask you to skip the rest of the day with him to just sit on the roof and talk with each other. You would say yes, you could never say no to him and hating school was just a way to guarantee his win.

After a while, he would confess.

He would’ve already handed you the bouquet so instead he would give you your birthday present. It was a simple small heart shaped locket that he had put some dried, flattened flowers into; small ones so they could still be visible and not need to be squished down even more. The other side of the locket would be empty, if/when you accepted his confession, he was hoping you two would fill it with a photo of the two of you.

The present came with a card but he would’ve told you to open the present first. After you opened it and he placed it around your neck, his fingers lightly skimming your neck as he clicked the latch in place, he would tell you to open the card.

He drew the card himself, it was a photo of you holding a flower with the locket around your neck and a soft smile on your face. The inside was decorated with drawings of flowers that surrounded the neat handwriting which displayed his feelings like lyrics of a love song.

Just as you’d start to read it, he would start saying each word he’d written down, spending countless hours practicing the exact words he had written down in front of the mirror. In his head he would say it perfectly with no stutters or awkward pauses where he would have to try and remember the words but he was sure he would mess up in some way. You had that effect on him. You made him nervous and confident. You made him excited and calm. You made him laugh and cry.

God, he was so in love with you.

And now I might never get to tell her that.

He almost physically slapped himself at the thought, not being able to even think about the possibility of you not surviving.

He had one more stop where he thought to go, and that was the cherry blossom tree in the garden. It was where the two of you would meet for lunch on the days where he could convince you to hang out with him during school hours.

It recently became a more popular place to go since it was the time of the year where the leaves fell and cherry blossom flowers and petals littered the ground to show a beautiful yet tragic sight. Ever since more people showed up, you’d told him you shouldn’t meet there anymore. He’d felt devastated when you told him that. He was sure you’d meant you never wanted to hang out with him again until you clarified that the two of you would just have to find another secret space where you could share your private lunch times.

Finally arriving and just barely missing a zombie that was running full speed toward him through a hallway that ran perpendicular to his. Luckily for him, although it made him feel sick to his stomach, the zombie with which he’d just escaped had found another target and was running toward it, completely forgetting Su-hyeok’s existence. As he exited the school doors and went into the garden area, he saw you sitting with your head lightly bobbing and gently hitting itself against the trunk of the tree you were resting against. Your headphones were in just as he’d predicted them to be and if he weren’t in a life or death situation, he would’ve wanted to stay right there and watch you for hours.

The sun shone through the leaves of the tree above you beautifully and landed on your cheeks and made you look heavenly. Your body was dressed in your normal uniform but somehow you made it look like it was being worn by a model down a runway.

He ran toward you and grabbed your hand, quickly pulling you up despite the way you flinched and smacked his arm in fright. He started running down the opposite way he came from, this time with you in tow and him grabbing onto your hand tightly, afraid if he let go he would lose you forever. Running through the halls, the two of you arrived at the glass bridge that connected the two buildings of the school. As you ran down, you passed Nam-ra who was also unaware of the situation going on around her because of her headphones. Yanking yourself free from Su-hyeok’s grip, you ran back to grab onto her hand and pull her with you before you reconnected yours and Su-hyeok’s hands as the three of you ran.

After seeing how the school’s gardener, who’d been trimming the bushes before shit went down, fell off his ladder and onto his garden shears before being pounced on by zombies, you noticed an opportunity with the ladder. Releasing the hands of both people who protested worriedly at the loss of contact, you rushed over to grab the ladder and prop it up against the wall so the three of you could climb it into what you knew was your homeroom class. At the beginning of the year you’d placed some small stickers in the corner and they’d been there ever since. Grabbing onto the ladder, you motioned for Su-hyeok to climb up it which he started to protest to until you grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to start climbing the first couple of steps, you did the same with Nam-ra who held a look of protest on her face but did not physically or verbally state it. After both of your friends had started climbing the ladder and Su-hyeok had managed to get the window open, you started climbing yourself until you felt a grip hold onto your shoe, trying to pull you back.

You turned back to see it was the gardener who’d only been killed a minute or two ago. It made your eyes widen before you used the ladder as support behind you and kicked him in the chest using your other foot. Once he’d fallen back, you wasted no time in climbing up the ladder, especially at your friends’ panicked yells of your name. As you reached the last few steps of the ladder and Su-hyeok grabbed onto your hands, you suddenly felt the stability of the ladder beneath you falling. Using the last bit of ground, you launched yourself into the air and grabbed ahold of the edge of the window with all your might. Su-hyeok and Nam-ra rushed to pull you in.

Once you’d made it safely inside and landed on your feet, Su-hyeok started frantically searching your body for any wounds, bite or not. After satisfying himself that you only had a few bruises that looked a couple days old, he pulled you into a tight hug with his head buried into the top of your head.

“This is why I always tell you to lower your music, dumbass,” he breathed in a whisper only meant for you while he held your shaking body. For the first few minutes of running, you didn’t even know why you were running until you finally took you headphones off and looked behind you and saw the two of you being chased by students with blood running down their chins while others were eating the flesh off the bones of other students who were screaming bloody murder.

It was quite a shock.

“Yeah. Like you would have predicted this. Mr. Big Psychic Guy,” you sarcastically retorted but your voice shook and he hugged you harder.

“It’s just like Train to Busan,” Cheong-san said as he looked at his friend holding you with mixed emotions. He wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing his best friend hugging the school bully’s little sister yet.

“Holy shit,” Dae-su exclaimed as he dropped to the floor while wiping the rest of his face from the fire extinguisher’s foam.

After a while when you’d calmed down a bit and gave an appreciative smile to Su-hyeok, you noticed the group searching around for a phone.

“See if it’s there,” Wu-jin told Joon-hyeong while they searched through people’s backpacks.

“It’s not here either,” Joon-yeong groaned.

As they started talking about how the zombies weren’t able to open doors, you started walking over to your own bag before Nam-ra tugged on your sleeve. Turning around, you gave her a smile and pulled her into a hug. The other kids were too worried with their own problems and searches to notice but Su-hyeok did and he smiled before going to look for a phone with the others.

After releasing Nam-ra, you placed your hands on her upper arms and gave a comforting squeeze before going over to your own bag. Pulling out your phone, you hesitated before speaking up.

“Uh… guys,” everyone looked up at you as soon as you spoke and you held your phone up for them to see. “Here.”

Cheong-san slowly came up to you and grabbed the phone from your extended hand with a slight nod of appreciation. The phone was already unlocked when he grabbed it and he immediately went to the call app to call 112.

Cheong-san brought the phone up to his head as he called.

“Hello? This is Hyosan High School! A ton of zombies showed up at lunch, and they’re eating people.”

You slapped your head in annoyance. “Idiot, they won’t believe you if you say zombies,” you whispered to him.

“Then what?” He questioned in an annoyed voice.

“They won’t believe you!” On-jo told him and slapped his arm lightly.

“Did you happen to see the movie Train to Busan?” He asked the dispatcher and you just groaned and walked away.

Going over to sit on your desk, Su-hyeok came over to sit on Nam-ra’s which was beside you. Right as he was about to speak, all of the zombies started running in one direction.

“What?”

“Where are they going?”

“Why are they leaving?”

Everyone started speaking at once.

“They probably heard or saw someone,” you said quietly and reached into your bag to grab the pocket knife Gwi-nam gave you to put on your keychain.

“Better to always have one just in case of emergency. Just don’t get caught with it.” He’d told you as he gave you the knife along with a pepper spray that was your favorite color.

You’d kept them in your bag ever since.

Gyeong-su opened the door to look outside and Su-hyeok ran over to yank him back inside.

“What are you doing, moron? Close it!” He exclaimed and the boy complied immediately.

“Okay, fine. You scared me!” Su-hyeok slapped his back a few times to reassure himself and Gyeong-su that they were both fine.

On-jo walked over to Cheong-san with a desperate look on her face and she held her own hands to stop them from shaking. “And the police?”

Cheong-san hesitated before repeating back what the dispatcher told him. “He said they’ll come,” he sounded unsure.

“Did they believe you?” Gyeong-su asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice but you could tell it wasn’t aimed at Cheong-san. “What if they think it's a prank and decide not to come?”

“Well, then try again!” Na-yeon stood up abruptly and yelled. “And tell them to hurry up!” She yelled.

“Na-yeon,” you said in a monotone voice from your spot still sitting on your desk. She turned around to look at you and froze when she saw your blank stare. “Shut up, you’ll attract the zombies.”

Nobody could blame her for her reaction, you looked very intimidating. You were sitting on the table with your elbows supporting your body on your knees while you flicked your knife open and closed. She gulped then nodded and stopped talking. On-jo grabbed the phone from Cheong-san and called 112 again, this time with a different strategy.

“Hi. Hello, sir. Do you know Captain Nam So-ju from Rescue Team One?” She tried. You knew her father was a firefighter, having heard her talk about him as well as seen him pick her up from school in his uniform a few times.

There was a pause as the dispatcher talked on the other end of the line. The voice could be heard from him but it was too quiet to understand. “Captain Nam So-ju is my father. Please tell him to hurry over to my school.”

Su-hyeok and Gyeong-su both turned around when they heard her talking. “Who is she calling?” You could hear Gyeong-su ask but Su-hyeok just shrugged his shoulders.

“There's a fire.”

At that, everyone’s attention focused on On-jo and what she was saying.

“Hyosan High School, classroom 2-5. Hurry up. The fire is massive.”

With that, the call ended and she turned back to the rest of you. Cheong-san walked over to stand next to her and look out the window to the field where hundreds of students wandered, their souls now gone and replaced with emotionless, hungry beasts.

“No one’s coming?” Su-hyeok asked as he came up behind him. You decided you couldn’t just sit around anymore and you stood up to stand on the other side of Su-hyeok and look out the window.

As Cheong-san stayed silent, you noticed something over at the gate. It looked like a bus.

“Is that a bus?”

“I think something’s happening at the gate.”

You and Cheong-san spoke out at the same time.

Na-yeon, who had been having a panic attack and had her head in her hands for the past few minutes, stood up. “Let’s call the cops again. Get them to listen.”

On-jo looked at her with a worried expression. “I am, but they won’t pick up.”

Na-yeon breathed heavily and for a second you felt bad, feeling the need to comfort her, until she walked up to where Nam-ra was sitting with a face that arrogantly showed her blaming the situation on her.

“Hey,” she started but Nam-ra showed no reaction. “Do something. Tell Ms. Park to come and help.” Nam-ra still showed no reaction. “Do something!”

“Do what exactly?” Su-hyeok asked, absolutely done with her bullshit and how she seemed to place the blame on everyone around her.

“I don’t know. Anything!” She said desperately, her voice rising before she remembered your words and shot you an almost apologetic glance. She looked back at the girl who was still sitting, staying silent and listening to how she was being berated. “What have you done as class president?”

Min-ji grabbed onto her arm from behind her. “Stop it,” she pleaded but Na-yeon just yanked her arm away from her grip.

Nam-ra stood up and walked so she was standing directly in front of Na-yeon.

“Teacher’s office?” She asked with a hint of a mocking tone in her voice. “So you just want me to leave now?”

There was a moment of silence as the two girls glared at each other. “Well, if you’re offering.” Na-yeon said and you took a step forward before Su-hyeok placed his arm in front of you to stop you from going any further. He gave you a look and you knew almost exactly what he was saying.

Nam-ra can hold her own, she’s strong.

“You told me to do something,” Nam-ra started again. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Stop it, you two!” On-jo begged from her place in front of the window. You could see how she tried to slowly inch away from you ever so often and you just dug your nails into your palms to stop the hurt from building.

You liked On-jo. You really did. She seemed like such a good friend who, if you could get to know her and she could get to know you, the two of you would be good friends.

“She’s only saying that because you’re class president,” On-jo tried to defend Na-yeon’s words even though she didn’t really deserve it.

“Yeah. You are, right?” Dae-su asked and you just rolled your eyes as everyone started to know her as the class president and ask for her help only when the world was ending.

“So just be patient, okay?” Wu-jin jumped in and told her. Nam-ra looked over at the two of them and Wu-jin comically grabbed Dae-su’s chin and forced him to look the other way while he also did.

“So stupid,” she said, shaking her head slightly in annoyance. She shot you a look and saw you were feeling the exact same thing. Although she wouldn’t say it out loud, she was happy she had at least one person who seemed to be on her side. “Typical.”

“What’s typical?” On-jo asked and Nam-ra turned around to look at her, a sarcastic smile gracing her lips.

“Now that we are in this mess, I’m your class president?” She berated.

On-jo looked guilty at her words but she held eye-contact.

Trying to cut the tension, Su-hyeok started to mediate the situation. “We called the police, so I’m sure we’ll be fine soon.”

Na-yeon whined and jumped up and down a bit like a toddler not getting her way. “But no one’s coming!”

“Enough already. We’re all scared too!” Ji-min exclaimed, getting up from her seat and only just being stopped by Hyo-ryung and Min-ji.

“That’s why I’m telling them to call!” Na-yeon screamed back at her.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” Ji-min challenged.

“Ladies, ladies, can you just stop the whining?” Gyeong-su let out exasperatedly from his spot blocking the door. You rolled your eyes at the tone of his voice but decided not to say anything.

“Oh, now you’re butting in, shithead?” Na-yeon turned around to face him.

Okay, nevermind I’m not staying out of it.

You walked over to the two of them as Gyeong-su walked away from the door to stand in front of Na-yeon.

“What? Did you just call me a shithead? Call me a shitheaed, you shithead,” he exclaimed and Wu-jin along with Dae-su ran over to hold him back from starting a fight while Min-ji wrapped her arms around Na-yeon to do the same.

The boys holding onto Gyeong-su just told him to let it go and not listen to her while you stood a few feet away, waiting for the situation to go from bad to worse.

Su-hyeok pointed at the door while telling Gyeong-su to go back. “Hold the door. I said hold the door.”

Seeing the boys not moving, you decided to go over yourself and to hold the door when a familiar face came rushing in before closing the door behind him.

“Coach Kang,” you said.

The man’s eyes scanned the room with a suspicious look before he asked, “Are you guys okay?” A few of the students nod but most just stayed still. Kang let out a deep breath of relief before Gyeong-su ran up to him.

“What about you? You weren’t bitten?”

“No. Of course not. I’m- I’m all right,” there was something about the way he hesitated when saying he was fine that made you stand on guard and put your hand into your pocket where you stored your knife. “Hey, guys. Let’s block the door first.”

All of the students started helping push the desks in front of the door but you just stood back as you watched Kang and the way he moved, there was a slight stutter in his steps, like he was struggling for control over his body.

You started to think you were being paranoid until suddenly you heard I-sak say something to On-jo.

“On-jo, look,” she said and pointed to Coach Kang.

“What?” On-jo asked, still confused on what her friend was telling her.

“There. His arm.” She pointed right at a bite that was on his right arm and On-jo gasped.

“Coach Kang,” On-jo spoke softly. “Your arm.”

The coach just looked at them irritated. “What are you doing? Come help us!”

Knowing On-jo would have trouble with standing up against a teacher, you took the initiative to tell the others.

“Coach Kang, you have a bite on your arm!” You walked in front of the two girls and pushed them behind you while firmly gripping your knife in your pocket.

Everyone else backed away from the man as he stared at his own bite mark in shock.

“He said he wasn’t bitten,” Gyeong-su said in slight denial.

“No, no I, I wasn’t bitten,” he tried desperately to cover his arm where the bite mark was in an attempt to make it seem as if it wasn’t there. As if, if you couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist.

“It’s a bite mark,” On-jo told him.

“I said it isn’t. Don’t talk back to me. Okay?” He exclaimed, getting angrier by the second and you gently pushed the girls even further behind you.

“It looks like you were really bitten,” I-sak spoke up from behind you and you could hear the slight tremor in her voice.

“I wasn’t! How many times must I tell you?” Coach Kang yelled at her and took a step forward so you also took a step forward.

“You should go,” You told him in an strangely calm voice considering the situation.

“Then why the hell are you hiding it? Just show it to us!” I-sak spoke up again and Kang tried to step around you but you just pushed him back by his shoulders and he stumbled for a second before regaining his balance.

“Why… you little bitch. How dare you disrespect me!”

I-sak took a step forward and grabbed your arm to pull you back a bit. Her voice got more quiet as she spoke again. “I think you should leave right now.”

“What?”

“Get out of here immediately.”

“You want me to go out there?” He pointed toward the door where a few zombies walked past the window. “After all I did to get here? You want me to go back out?”

“You were bitten,” she said while breathing heavily in fear. “Come on, get out.” There was a moment of silence before she yelled, “I said get out now!”

“Cocksucker! How dare you yell at me like that?” He stared at her as he spoke and his face continuously got sweatier as the seconds passed. As he took a step forward, On-jo pulled I-sak back as you took a step forward to protect them. You were unknowing to the faces of the girls behind you as you were too busy protecting them but they were shocked. They thought you would be more like your brother who would only care about his own safety - along with yours, everyone knew how overprotective he was of you - but here you were, protecting them with your life. Coach Kang looked at you with annoyance but focused his attention on I-sak.

“You little… Get over here. Come here,” He seemed to be getting angrier and everyone was on edge. “Now!” I-sak continued to remain still. “You won’t come? Hey.” He started advancing forward and Su-hyeok rushed forward to push you back as Dae-su went to push Kang back but was held back by Wu-jin.

“Get the fuck back,” you yelled at him as he tried to get around you and Su-hyeok tried to pull you back.

“You know, you have been getting on my nerves. How dare you not listen to me. I am your teacher and I demand respect!” He yelled at you.

“Respect is earned motherfucker. I won’t respect you until you show me you deserve it,” you told him and he looked positively fuming.

“You will respect me!” He took a step forward as you were yanked back by Su-hyeok who was pulled back by On-jo who looked at the two of you with a weird gleam in her eyes. Suddenly, his nose started bleeding and he turned away as he wiped it away.

Before you could stop her, On-jo ran from behind you and hit the man over the head with a backpack.

He turned around with a silent anger. Cheong-san pulled On-jo behind him as Kang started walking toward her. “You fucking bitch,” he spoke, raising his hand like he was going to slap her before falling flat on his face.

“I think he really was bitten,” Gyeong-su said stupidly and you just looked at him with an exasperated look. “Guys, we should get out of here as soon as possible.”

Kang twitched on the ground and you tried to pull away from Su-hyeok to go toward him and prepare to stab him but Su-hyeok wrapped his arms around your waist and shoulders and you couldn’t move no matter how you squirmed.

“Hey. Hey! He’s turning!”

The coach’s bones cracked and crunched as he rolled around on the floor and turned from one type of monster to another.

“Get him out of here! Hurry!” Na-yeon yelled as she shut her eyes closed tightly and covered her ears. For once you agreed with her and couldn’t find it in you to tell her to shut up. “Hurry! Throw him out!”

The coach had finally fully turned and started crawling toward Min-ji before standing up and lunging at her completely, latching his teeth onto her cheek and not letting go until he was pulled off by Dae-su who tried desperately to save his friend as she screamed in agony.

Dae-su threw Kang into the drawers on the wall of the class room and he rolled around while readjusting his bones.

Still struggling against Su-hyeok’s grip, you started thrashing around but he held strong.

“Dae-su… I can’t…” Min-ji started and you felt tears well up in your eyes as you thrashed harder. You never really knew the girl but she didn’t deserve this, that’s for sure. “I don’t want to die…”

The zombified coach stood up and Su-hyeok gently tossed you to the side as he lunged straight for the two of you. He swiftly dodged the attacks of the man as everyone screamed. Disorientated from the lack of hold of his arms, it took you a minute to regain your balance and try to help the best you can and yet before you could Su-hyeok was holding you back again. Cheong-san quickly picked up a desk and used it to slam Kang into the wall, gathering the help of Gyeong-su who helped hold him there.

As Min-ji kept begging for help, Na-yeon scurried to the pile of desks and chairs and started pulling them away from the door so she could get out.

For once, not a bad idea.

You were worried when you saw Min-ji get up to walk after her and gasped when Na-yeon kicked her back so she fell to the floor. There, she started having the same experience as the previous person on the floor as her nose started bleeding and her bones started to crack. Her eyese went red as she reached for Dae-su before she fell to the ground. She suddenly jumped up and lunged at Dae-su but was apprehended quickly by him as he begged her to stop, nearly crying at the loss of his friend.

“We gotta go,” Su-hyeok exclaimed as he continued to hold you back. You’d started hitting him and only were released when you kicked his shin a little too hard and he fell to the floor for a moment. You ran over to where Cheong-san and Gyeong-su were holding the zombified Coach Kang and helped push the desk into him while hurriedly reaching into your pocket.

Everyone started chasing after Na-yeon who had gotten the door opened and was running out. On-jo, Su-hyeok, and the three of you pushing the table into the man against the wall were the last ones in the classroom and you exclaimed a small noise of victory as you’d finally gotten the knife out of your pocket and opened it.

Curse you Gwi-nam, why’d you have to give me a complicated one?

Stabbing the knife into the head of the coach, he dropped dead but before you could indulge in your victory you were getting pulled out of the classroom, you knife forgotten behind in the skull of your previous P.E. teacher.

Su-hyeok shut the doors behind him and the group moved together down the hall toward the stairs until everyone stopped and you ran into Cheong-san’s back. Before you could even realise what was going on, Su-hyeok ran up to the front and did a flying kick into one of the zombies. Not allowing yourself to be useless and let a man of all people show you up, you ran up to the front as well and threw, kicked, and punched the zombies as much as you could, keeping them away from the group while simultaneously making sure you yourself were safe. You allowed yourself to check on Su-hyeok every other second to make sure he was also okay until a zombie somehow had gotten past the two of you and started sprinting towards the group. Running as fast as you could, you tackled the zombie right before it was able to get to Na-yeon who had been crawling backwards after falling to the ground when the zombies first arrived. Another zombie ran toward you and you had to fend off the two of them by yourself, unable to gain assistance from Su-hyeok who was also in a sticky predicament himself.

“Well shit. I never thought I would die from a zombie apocalypse but I guess here we are,” you thought to yourself as you felt your arms get tired and the mouth of the zombie who was on top of you get closer to your arm.

Suddenly, the zombie was struck by something hard in the head and then smacked again so it fell to the floor. You looked up to see Cheong-san was the one who saved you and Gyeong-su ran up to Su-hyeok with a window - the same weapon you now knew Cheong-san used - to help him out. The ones holding the windows ran toward the small herd of zombies and used them as a barricade to hold them off while Dae-su had grabbed a whole classroom door.

“Hey! Get out of the way!” He screamed at the boys and started running toward the herd, swinging the door horizontally and using it as a larger barricade.

Running toward the boys, you slammed into the door as well to push and help them move the zombies backward. The girls looked slightly ashamed that they hesitated to follow after your example.

Turning the corner, the zombies were stuck at the top of the stairs of the floor you were on.

“Girls, upstairs!” Wu-jin screamed at you all and you just rolled your eyes as you forcefully grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed him toward the stairs.

“You first, dumbass!” You retaliated and he wasn’t sure what to say. The rest of the girls sprinted up the stairs as you pushed as hard as you could and were able to successfully knock all the zombies down the small flight of stairs before grabbing two random hands and dragging them toward the stairs as you forced them to go up. Making sure everyone was able to go up the stairs, you almost groaned in annoyance as you saw Su-hyeok, once again, practically sacrificing himself and kicking the zombies. As he fell over, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up before sprinting up the stairs before the zombies could regain control. You couldn’t see it with your eyes focused on the stairs in front of you and how you avoided the miscellaneous zombies as you dragged Su-hyeok behind you, but he was watching you in awe as he had never fully realized the full capacity of your strength.

As you were right behind Wu-jin who had stopped to push back a few zombies with the window piece he had, he got pushed toward the stairs as you started fighting the zombies expertly, avoiding their mouths while keeping the upper hand. Su-hyeok ignored the way you’d yelled at him to follow the others and started helping you kick the zombies back down before grabbing your arm to pull you up the stairs.

As a zombie launched itself at you while you climbed, it attached itself to your foot and you fell over, just barely being able to kick its face away from your ankle where it was aiming to bite you. Cheong-san had seen how you were down and how Su-hyeok had fallen with you.

“Su-hyeok!” He screamed in concern.

Said boy looked up at him before looking back at you and how you kicked the beast away. “Go to the science lab! Now!” He yelled back at him and Cheong-san hesitated before complying. Su-hyeok pulled you up and kicked another zombie away from the two of you before it breached the area where you considered yourself to be relatively safe. The two of you ran hand in hand up the stairs where you saw Su-hyeok’s friends being cornered between two hoardes of zombies. Before you could think to help in anyway, you were tackled from behind, your grip on Su-hyeok’s hands being pulled harshly away.

Su-hyeok’s eyes widened exponentially when he saw how you got attacked and was able to use his quick thinking to pull the monster off just before its teeth could latch onto your neck. Now only worried about your safety as he saw the group run into a classroom that the outside was still covered by zombies with, he grabbed your hand once more, pulling you up and silently apologizing when he heard you wince before pulling you into a room a few doors down from the science room.

The art room.

Ducking down before the zombies in the room could see you and both of you covering your mouths with your hands to quiet your panting, you ducked behind some very well placed desks and filing cabinets on wheels.

After a while of just sitting down and your breathing calming down, Su-hyeok pointed over to where the windows were. You shot him a hesitant glance but knew it was the both of your guys best shots at surviving and making it out of this blood stained room.

Just as Su-hyeok started to move, the speakers started squealing and you both covered your ears from how loud it was. Suddenly, the familiar voice of your teacher Ms. Park filled the classroom as well as the halls.

“Students and teachers of Hyosan High School. I'm Park Sun-hwa, the English teacher. Something strange is happening throughout the school. Some students are attacking others indiscriminately, so please flee and find a safe place. If any student or faculty hears this and is able to, please call the police and the fire department. Students, hide somewhere safe until help arrives. If you can get out of the school, please get out,” her voice started to shake and you felt horrible. This must be terrible for her too. “I'll say it again. Some students are…” She let out a few shaky breaths and Su-hyeok grabbed your hand with a firm but gentle grip, squeezing slightly to reassure you.

“Hey, everyone…” She started again, her voice becoming less professional and now more caring and loving like the teacher you’d come to know. “You're okay, right? You're not hurt? I don't know what's going on in here or how this whole thing happened, but... Still, find a safe place and hide. I… I'm sorry… I can't help.” She started sobbing and despite keeping your face emotionless you could feel a single tear fall down your cheek. “Don't get hurt, okay? Please, let's stay alive and meet again. Okay?”

Let’s meet again.

~~~

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

#all of us are dead #aouad #cheong-san #dae-su #gyeong-su #nam-ra #on-jo #x reader #su hyeok x y/n #canon gwi nam would be such a shit brother

[everywishway]

Random Hades Game Headcanons

Zagreus gives the best hugs. He's tall, naturally really warm, and the right amount of muscle where he's soft but also strong. Plus he's just so comforting to be around <3

Cerberus has a little black spot on his tummy (i say little it's about the size of a hand print) and that's how he got his name (which means spotted)

Thanatos is trans and has top surgery scars under his cloak

Persephone actually used to party with Dionysus when she was younger and lived on Olympus (partially to numb the pain and to rebel against her mother)

Demeter (when she finds out about Zagreus being her Grandson and later Melinoe) spoils them rotten. Pinching cheeks and giving cash and cookies. The embodiment of a shitty mother but an awesome grandmother

Hypnos is actually really close with his sister Nemesis, she affectionately gives him noogies when nobody is looking (has to keep up her badass image)

Zagreus is a lightweight and can barely handle a glass or two of nectar and you'll typically get either that you'll get Flirty/Party animal Zag or Completely zoned out and rambling incoherently Zag. On rare days tho you get Traumadumping and Sobbing Zag.

Hermes has betting polls running at Olympian parties Zag will be at to see which one until Thanatos catches on and glares at Hermes to stop while he carries his boyfriend home

Every time he sees Zagreus and Persephone (and later on Melinoe) happy together, Hades can't help but feel guilty about how terribly he treated (and fucked up) his only son (as he should)

Odysseus gave up Elysium to stay with Penelope in Asphodel

All the rest of these are about the Red Shade who cheers on Zagreus in Elysium (i love them so much)

The "Supportive Shade" (as the wiki called them) is Iphigenia (the girl who was sacrificed to start the Trojan War) and she's just a bisexual teenage girl with issues who loves gladiatorial warfare (totally not because it's a healthy way to let out her issues).

She also comes down to Tartarus once a week to beat the shit outta her father because fuck Agamemnon

She also befriends and starts dating Cassandra bc I said so.

Ends up being adopted by Achilles and Patroclus (which is a little awkward at first since she almost married Achilles) but they bond over their hatred of Agamemnon

He ends up teaching her how to fight and she occasionally tries to spar with Zagreus

#hades supergiant #hades game #hades ii #zagreus #zagreus hades #thanatos #supportive shade #hades dionysus

[staytheword]

thanks for the memories (lmly, part one)

thanks for the memories — part one of leave me loving you [→ part two] [series masterlist] [general masterlist]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!! if you interact with my writing please have a profile picture and short bio indicating your age. it helps me make sure you are not a bot!!

• han jisung x female reader, all other stray kids members are featured. other idols are mentioned briefly (ateez's wooyoung, itzy's yuna).

• non idol au, rock band au. drinking, partying, explicit language, explicit smut. oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, protected sex. (let me know if missed any warnings)

• word count: 11.6k

There’s only one person there, sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging his legs and looking around. For a second you think your eyes must be deceiving you, but it’s him. Han Jisung.

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @raspbinniecreme ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit

• story taglist: @mintquokka ; @is2cb97 ; @dirah-h ; @bokk-minnie ; @allypasta ; @strawberriesandknives ; @drhsthl ; @hyunjins-red-lights ; @thesunsfullmoon (hope I didn't forget anyone, sorry if I did I have an awful memory!)

• author’s note: hello ♡!! here is part one of the series! thank you so much for all the support you've given me, it's really heartwarming :') I really really hope you'll enjoy this (can you tell I'm incredibly nervous haha?)! the first part is a bit longer than expected because I wanted to divide it differently but thought it didn't work as well.... ahh. anyway. well. if you can please let me know what you thought ♡ lots of love!

The Jack of Trades is packed tonight, exactly the way you like it. It smells like smoke and booze, colored by neon lights and light projectors. The floor is sticky under the soles of your combat boots, and you have to zig zag through the crowd to make it to the bar. 

Tonight is one for the books.

The Trades is hosting the concert of a band who’s visiting your city on their tour. It’s a big deal. The band in question, Side Effects, got featured on Spotify and are really popular on social media. You don’t know them very well - you’ve only heard snippets of one of their songs - but judging from the amount of people squeezed in the Trades tonight, you’re representing a minority. 

Leaning against the bar, you catch Yuna’s gaze and raise two fingers. She gives you a nod, her long hair falling in elegant waves on her shoulders. You always order the same thing, anyway, so she doesn’t have to ask. A minute later she hands you two bottles of your favorite beer, which will go straight to your tab, and you give her a thumbs up of encouragement in return. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen the place so packed. You don’t think you ever have. It’s usually busy on Fridays, but never like this. You feel a rush of pride because the Trades is your favorite place on this godforsaken planet and you know how hard Changbin worked to get it back on its feet after the last owner deserted. 

Speaking about your best friend, he’s where you usually find him, near the mixing console where Jeongin is sitting, focused, his headphones placed on his bleached hair. Changbin is frowning at his phone, clearly busy with final preparations. It’s an important night for him. He lets out a relieved sigh when you hand him his beer. 

“Finally,” he lets out, immediately taking a long sip. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking. “You’re welcome, Bin.” 

He drinks for a few more seconds before answering you - his beer is already half empty. 

“Can you see this?” he laughs in disbelief. “The place is fucking packed.” 

“You did it, Bin,” you say, lifting your bottle to clink it against his. “You sold out the Trades.” 

He grins and cheers to your words before emptying the rest of his beer. When he’s done, he releases a content sigh and you take the empty bottle from his hands. 

“I feel better now. I was getting a little stressed,” he chuckles.

“Is everything ready?” 

He nods. “Yup. We should be able to start on time,” he says, checking his phone again. “Oh, fuck, no, why is Hyun texting me…”  You let your gaze wander around the room as Changbin starts to type frenetically on the phone. It’s hard to believe that only two years ago, this place was nothing. Changbin bought the place as it was falling to ruins. You still remember the first time he showed it to you, making a big show out of it. He put a blindfold around your eyes and everything - and when you saw the dusty floor, the bare walls and the half collapsed stage, you thought your best friend had gone crazy.

But Changbin had a vision. He wanted to create a place where there would always be live music, where people could come to dance to a band they liked just as much as grab a beer and listen to whoever was playing. You could see it in his eyes as he explained it to you. 

It took months just to undo the damage made by the past owners - the plumbing needed to be replaced, there was mold in the walls of the bathroom, and things you preferred to forget in the dressing rooms. Luckily, Changbin was one stubborn guy, and he pushed through at the times you would have easily given up. You did your best to be there for him. 

The months after that had been easier - choosing the color of the paint, the best material for the floor of the stage, the placement of the bar and tables. Changbin already had a name in mind, and you worked for weeks on a design for its logo. When Changbin gave his approval, he ordered a neon light in the shape of your logo, which now hung on the brick wall behind the stage. 

Since its opening, the Trades has seen its fair share of rising artists, of questionable singers and chaotic musicians. A few concerts sold well, and the place became a success. Now there are so many proposals Changbin actually has to choose who will play on the nights the Trades is open. 

Tonight, the place is sold out for a band that you’ve actually heard on the radio. Hyunjin, who works backstage, has a friend who has a friend - Side Effect’s guitarist. They were looking for a venue and the Trades ended up being mentioned in a conversation. When Hyunjin told Changbin, you were sure he was going to go into cardiac arrest. It cost him a small fortune to pay the band and promote the concert, but seeing tonight’s crowd, it was definitely worth the investment.

“He said three, Hyun - not, not two, three - I SAID THREE - HYUN?!” 

You turn to Changbin, eyebrow raised, and he sighs deeply, holding the bridge of his nose. His outburst has also gotten the attention of Jeongin, who has turned his chair towards him and pulled down his headphones. 

“We really need to get a better network for his place,” Changbin mutters. He nods at Jeongin. “Everything ready?” 

Jeongin nods. He doesn’t talk a lot but has an impressive work ethic. He’s also the best - the best - poker player you’ve met.  

“Y/N,” Changbin pleads, “can you please find Hyun and tell him three changes, not two. I need to stay here.” 

You nod and head outside the booth. Although you’re always here, you don’t officially work for the Trades - but you don’t mind helping. The place is your baby a little bit, too. You’ve been here since the start, helped with the renovations, and you’ve barely missed a concert. 

Holding on to your beer, you slip through the crowd towards the door leading backstage, Wooyoung letting you in with a sharp nod. You know the place so well you have no difficulty finding your way in the dark. You find Hyunjin standing behind the black curtains around the stage, hiding him from sight. He’s dressed all in black as usual, and blends with the shadows so well sometimes the only thing giving him away is the piercing on his eyebrow. 

“Did he say two or three?” he asks you. 

“Three,” you confirm. 

“Three,” Hyunjin repeats under his breath, turning to finish preparing his things. “Why not two like everyone else? Why does it have to be three?”

You smile to yourself at his muttering, and hand him your beer. 

“Take a sip, yeah?” 

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” 

He drinks as you peak around the curtain to see the stage. You love seeing it from this angle when it’s all ready to go, its floor covered in cords and various equipment. Side Effects has four members, each with their own microphone, and the drum kit is huge.  

You turn back towards Hyunjin who has a finger against his earpiece and hands you back the beer. You understand the signal - the show is about to start. The Trades goes dark and you hear the crowd scream in excitment. You turn on your heels to leave, as you don’t want to be in the way, but as you’re about to head back, you’re blocked by a few people passing in front of you. 

You can barely see them in the darkness, only a few lights giving a hint of their faces, but you can easily guess from their outfits and general energy that they’re the band. 

The first has short, ruffled dark hair and wears a tank top that barely covers his wide shoulders. He does not see you, clearly in his own mindspace. The second is slightly shorter, with shoulder-length black hair that is half tied behind his head. His eyes are wide and shine in the darkness. He notices you staring and nods at you quickly, munching nervously on his lower lip. 

The third barely glances at you. He wears a leather jacket and his hair covers his eyes. The last is smiling, visibly excited, and gives you a wink as he walks by - but he does it so quickly you can’t get a good look at him.

Each of them gives a different energy, none of which feels similar to what you would expect in a popular rock band, and just for that, you are intrigued. The crowd is going wild, a few people screaming at the top of their lungs, pushing towards the stage. The overall atmosphere is electric, tense like the few seconds before a raging thunderstorm.

You decide to stay for a song, making yourself small backstage. The first notes of an electric guitar rips through the Trades, soon followed by a rhythmic beat on the drums. When the voices join the melody, you find yourself moving, tapping your feet on the floor. The song is catchy, reminding you of the music you listened to when you were a teenager - in a good way - and their voices blend in perfect harmony. 

Tank top guy, who you understand is the main singer and guitarist, stands at the center of the stage, belting a high note in the microphone. To his right, the other guitarist smiles widely at the crowd, no longer looking nervous - and to the left, perfectly sporting the bad boy look with his leather jacket, the bassist does not even smirk. 

But really, it’s him you can’t look away from. Sitting at the drums, on the edge of his stool, slamming his sticks like a man possessed. He’s fast and aggressive, his face quickly dripping in sweat, his tongue slightly sticking out from between his teeth. In your entire life, you’ve never seen anyone play the drums like that. He’s probably barely visible behind the other members and the array of drums and cymbals in front of him, and yet he shines so bright you can’t take your eyes off him. 

You stand there as if struck by lightning for the rest of the song, and then for about half of the second. 

Who is that guy?

You see the appeal of Side Effects. Four handsome guys with an insane amount of charisma bombarding really good music like they were born for it - of course they would be popular. Around you, the audience is dancing and singing, clearly having fun. You feel proud for the Trades, and a little embarrassed that you didn’t give this band much attention before. They are good. 

You clap when the second song ends, listening attentively as they introduce themselves. The singer and leader is Chris. The other guitarist is Felix. At the bass is Minho, and behind the drums sits Jisung. 

You can’t help it - you stare at him. Jisung. He’s fidgeting like a child as Chris interacts with the crowd, happiness overflowing his eyes. He plays with his drumsticks like they’re the extensions of his fingers, which you don’t doubt is true. As Felix says something about an upcoming EP, Jisung leans down to drink some water, and as he looks up, your eyes meet.

He doesn’t react, and for a second you think he can’t actually see you in the dark - but then, he smiles. 

A heart-wrenching, life-altering smile. 

You can almost feel your legs wobble, but really, you are too shocked to move. You just stare back like an idiot until he looks away. 

How can a guy be so goddamn magnetic? 

The next song starts and you try to catch your breath. It’s hard to do so as he plays right next to you, the muscles of his arms tensed, his entire body jolting as he pounces on the drums. He’s still smiling, but he’s focused. You breathe out slowly. 

When you think you can stare at him in peace, he turns his head for a second and winks at you. 

It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You take a step backwards, clearing your throat, and look around nervously. That’s when you see Hyunjin, who is smirking at you. You give him a glare and he playfully winks at you. 

You make sure to give his arm a good slap before you head back towards the booth to go back with Changbin, your legs a little shaky. 

You’ll watch the concert from a distance.

People often talk about the calm before the storm, but you prefer the one that comes afterwards. The latent electricity, the echoes of screams. You stand in the middle of the Trades, your ears ringing in the eerie silence. The entire audience has left, the stage is empty. 

You stand among the staff, your shot glass lifted as Changbin ends his speech. He has a proud grin illuminating his face, his eyes shining like stars - you cheer with the others to the night’s success, clink your glass against Hyunjin’s and drink. People disperse to finish cleaning up or to get home, but you linger next to Changbin. You throw your arm around his waist as he finishes talking with Wooyoung, and once the bouncer tells you both goodnight, you pull Changbin into a hug. 

“Congratulations, Mr. Seo,” you tell him. “I’m proud of you.” 

He hugs you back, chuckling, his breath making your hair dance. In the way his body leans against yours, you can feel how both happy and exhausted he is. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he breathes. 

You shake your head, leaning back, gently tapping his cheek with your palm. 

“Of course you couldn’t.” 

He pulls his tongue at you as someone calls his name. You both turn towards the voice. A young guy with dark hair is smiling at Changbin, walking towards you. Wearing a pair of jeans, a white button-up and a relaxed tie, he looks both casual and fancy. Behind him are four people you immediately recognize.

Side Effects. 

You try not to stare, stepping away from Changbin.

The main singer, Chris, looks completely spaced out although he’s smiling politely. Felix looks like he’s still on his adrenaline high, bouncing slightly, looking around in curiosity. The bassist, Minho, remains impassive, but he perhaps looks a little bored. The drummer, Jisung - will you ever be able to forget that name? - is on his phone and does not see either of you. 

“Mr. Kim,” Changbin says, extending his hand. “I thought you would’ve left by now.” 

“Not without saying thanks,” he replies, shaking Changbin’s hand. You conclude he’s the band’s manager. “Call me Seungmin, yeah?” 

He looks at the main singer and nudges him with his elbow. 

“Right,” Chris smiles. “Thanks for having us. We had a good time.” 

“Yeah, it’s a really cool place you got,” Felix, agrees. 

They all give smiles and thanks, shaking Changbin’s hand. Your best friend’s grin cannot leave his face. You stand a little behind him, observing the exchange. It’s hard not to gawk. They’re still wearing their stage outfits, and although they look different without the spotlights, you can still feel their energy. 

“We’re having a little after-party,” Seungmin explains. “Wanted to extend an invitation.” He glances at you. “You and your staff, of course. Anyone who wants to join.” 

“Ooh,” Changbin chuckles. “Hell, why not.” 

Seungmin nods. “I’ll text the address then. See you in a bit.” 

As they walk away, you exchange a long look with Changbin. You wait until they’re out of sight to gasp loudly, holding on to each other like you’re going to fall on your knees. 

“Did they just -” Changbin exclaims. “Did we just get invited to an afterparty?”

“I think we did,” you whisper frenetically. “I think we fucking did.”

“Holy shit!” 

This is the first time anything like that has ever happened - usually, if there are after parties, they take place inside the Trades, and it’s with bands or musicians that aren’t very well known. Those who are, even just a little, often leave as soon as their performance is over.

“You know what that means, right,” Changbin giggles. “Not only did they stick around, but they took the time to thank us, and then invite us? What the fuck!” 

You laugh hysterically, throwing your arms around Changbin’s neck. You take the time to scream and dance for a minute or two, but then there’s stuff to do. You help your friend settle a few things, leaving the rest in Yuna’s safe hands, who’s not in the mood to party and has worked at the Trades since its opening. 

There’s five of you going to the party, so you split two taxis and get to the address Seungmin texted Changbin. It’s already really late when you get there, but you don’t care. This sort of thing never happens and you are going to enjoy it. Besides, if it allows you to steal a few more looks at that hot drummer, you won’t complain. 

The place, which you guess is the house the band rented for their time in town, is huge and already filled with people. Nobody asks who you are, and you just join the party like you were there from the start. Changbin is able to find Seungmin, who guides you to the kitchen where there’s a scandalous amount of beer available. You grab a bottle and cheer with your friend. 

It’s going to be a good night.

You’re going to lose the game, that much you know - but you’re not going down without a fight. If only your eyes weren’t burning from the exhaustion and the booze, you might’ve stood a chance. But then again, your opponent is good. 

Minho has brushed his hair away from his face. His eyes drill into yours, and while they are beautiful, they are, right now, your worst enemies. 

You squint as the people around you hold their breath - and after a few more seconds, you can’t take it. 

You blink. 

The small audience lets out an audible sigh. Minho gives you a smirk. 

“Well played.” 

You wave your hand, rubbing your teary eyes. You’re not proud, but you can admit defeat, so you nod at him and he pats your shoulder. You'll get him another time. Or not.

It’s incredibly late and horribly early. You’ve been drinking - not too much, but a fair amount. The party is slowly calming down. There’s still music playing, but it’s faint. People are no longer dancing and drinking but rather lounging and chatting. A few are laying on the floor or on the couches, asleep. Someone is snoring nearby. A lot of people have left. Most, in fact. But not you. 

You’re still here and you’ve just had a staring contest with Lee Minho - which you’ve lost. You shake your head, letting it fall against Changbin's shoulder. He is half asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open, his head secured against a fluffy cushion. In a minute or two you’ll lose him, but that’s fine - you plan on just curling up next to him and sleeping too. 

Except, as you’re about to do exactly that, you spot Han Jisung. 

You haven’t seen him much during the night. Not long after you arrived, you saw him flirt with a girl and he disappeared afterwards - you can guess the rest. Not very surprising coming from a member of a rock band. Of course he would have groupies. He was handsome, talented, charismatic. A flirt, too, apparently. Not like you cared, and certainly not like you expected him to remember the wink he gave you - if it had even been intentional. At this point, you’re convinced he didn’t even see you, that you were just a faceless shadow observing him from backstage.

So much for the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. 

But he’s there now, walking towards the kitchen, wearing distressed jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair is all over the place, his steps a little uneven. You stare at him as he crosses the room - he’ll never see you, anyway. 

Changbin's chest is rising and falling regularly now, and you glance at him to confirm he’s fallen asleep. You smile tenderly, pat his cheek, and decide to head to the bathroom before you also get some rest. You head to the hallway, stepping over a few bodies, smiling at Jeongin who’s still playing DJ although the music is at such a low volume you can barely hear it. You ruffle his hair as you pass him. 

You step out of the bathroom, thinking to yourself you should get a glass of water, and look up. A few steps away, leaning against the wall, is Han Jisung. 

He looks up at you and smiles, his hands in his pockets, his eyeliner a little smudged.  

“There you are.” 

You’re too surprised to say anything at first, and he chuckles. 

“What, you think I forgot about you?” 

You blink, trying to gather your thoughts. “Excuse me?” 

He smiles, tilting his head a little. “It’s you. You were backstage earlier.” 

“How do you know that? It was dark.” 

“Not that dark.” 

You chuckle, maybe a little nervously. You’re a bit too drunk and tired for this conversation. He just looks at you in response, and you know it deep inside your heart. This guy is dangerous. Dangerously attractive, no doubt. But also just dangerous - the kind to consume your heart in a single bite and not leave a crumb. Exactly what you should avoid.

You cross your arms, looking back at him. “If you knew I was here, why didn’t you come earlier?” 

He shrugs. “I thought you’d look for me.” 

“There were like a hundred people here,” you sigh. “And when I saw you, you looked a little busy.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. His smile - fuck, that smile. Wide and bright and heart-shaped. Fuck. 

“Oh, that,” he says. “Yeah. She was all over me, what kind of gentleman would I be to refuse?” 

You snort. “For some reason I can’t buy into the whole gentleman thing.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Do I need to remind you you’re a rockstar?” 

“Hm. I would have just said musician or “some guy in a band”, but I’ll take rockstar.” 

You stare at each other, and you can’t explain it, but you both burst out laughing. Surely, it’s the booze. It has nothing to do with the electricity between you, like you’ve known each other for years, like this is far from being your first ever conversation. What the hell is this? 

Is this what people mean when they talk about instant connection? All you’ve known is friendship and trust built by experience and bonding. Not that it’s a bad thing - on the opposite - but this is new for you. 

You cover your face with your hands, shaking your head, and Jisung approaches you slowly, his eyes filled with sparks. 

“I love your laugh.”

“Oh, come on,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. 

You turn to lean against the wall, placing your hands behind your back, and he follows your move, barricading you between the wall and him. He smirks. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“It’s not that, rockstar,” you smile at him. “I just know guys like you. Flirts. Fuck boys.” 

“Aoutch.” 

“Like you don’t know it.” 

He doesn’t refute it, his eyes lingering on your face, your nose, your lips, your body. Most of all, your lips. You’re tired and drunk and he smells good - it would be easy to reach out, but you won’t let yourself do it. You want to see what he will do.

And just like that, like he’s reading your mind, he leans in. Your breath hitches but you put a finger against his chest. 

“Hm. Haven’t you had enough for one night?” you tell him mischievously. 

He groans, and he’s so close to you his breath caresses your lips. 

“It’s you I wanted from the start.” 

It’s a terribly attractive thing to say, and you try really hard to ignore the fact that you’re turned on. You attempt to focus on little things to take your mind off his smell and his warmth - the fact that your mouth is dry, that a strand of your hair is tickling your ear, that your feet feel heavy in your boots after an entire day in them. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” you whisper. 

“All the more reason,” he grins. 

He reaches to put said strand of hair behind your ear, removing your itch, and it makes you almost dizzy - so much that you barely see him as he leans towards you again. Your finger, still pointed at his chest, pathetically bends, and your hand ends up sprawled against his shirt. His breath smells like apple flavored liquor. He kisses you. 

You know you’re just some random girl for him, one he’ll probably never know the name of, one of many he’ll have made out with on his tour. You know you’re just that, and you should have enough self-respect to push him away and not become yet another groupie on his fuck shelf, but he kisses so well you forget all of that. 

Or, well.

You know it, but you choose to forget it. 

Han Jisung’s lips taste like chaos. He kisses the exact opposite way he plays the drums, languidly, longingly, almost carefully - he is patient and delicate, yet it is clear he knows what he wants. You wrap your arms around him, and he pushes you against the wall, kissing you deeper. 

His hands are in your hair and he slides his tongue against yours, and you moan at the feeling of it, and in this instant you would let him do whatever he likes to you. 

You said it. 

Dangerous.

You are vaguely aware someone approaches you and stops next to you, but Jisung is still kissing you like it’ll never happen again - and it never will - so you don’t really pay attention to it. It is only when Jisung lips leave yours that you touch back with reality, realizing the voice has been calling his name repeatedly. 

“What is it, man?” Jisung asks, his voice low and annoyed. 

You’re still hidden in his arms, feeling drunker than you’ve ever been. You can barely open your eyes. 

“Sorry,” the voice says. It’s Chris. “But we need to go, like, now. Felix isn’t feeling good.” 

You glance at Jisung to see his face has changed. He looks tense, almost sad. It’s a surprising sight and it stirs something inside of you. 

Jisung gives Chris a nod. “I’ll be there in a second.” 

Chris leaves, and Jisung turns back to you. 

“Sorry, baby. Gotta go.” 

He gently lifts your chin with his fingers and gives you a last gentle kiss. Your legs can barely keep you up. 

Just like that, he walks away and disappears. You know it’s the last you’ll see of him tonight - and probably ever. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but there’s nothing you can do.

You trace your lips with your own tongue. 

Apples.  

You drag your feet back to Changbin, who is still asleep, and you sit beside him. Feeling disoriented, like your whole life has been taken apart and built back sideways, you wrap yourself around him, close your eyes, and let sleep steal you away.

The barista slides the two full cardboard trays of coffee on the counter and you thank him with a smile. It’s heavy and impractical, but luckily you only have to go next door. 

As much as you love the Trades during the night, when it’s packed and loud and stifling, you adore it during the day. If the weather is nice, like today, the doors remain open to let the fresh air in, and there’s a spot at the booths, where you usually sit, that catches the light just right. You head there first, leaving your bags and your own coffee, and then you make a round around the place to give the other cups to the people you meet. 

Jeongin is making repairs on his sound console and he accepts the coffee with a nod. Andy, the janitor, takes the next one, and soon you’re left with just one. You head upstairs to Changbin's office, and seeing that the door is closed, you knock. It’s the code everyone knows - an open door means you can go in. A closed one means knocking.

You wait for a few seconds, and when the door opens, Changbin only lets his head through - you see there’s someone in there with him. Soft brown hair and a black coat. Could be anyone. You just hand him his coffee, and he thanks you with a smile. You’re curious to know who he’s meeting, but you’ll just ask later. 

That’s the beauty of your friendship with Changbin. There’s absolutely nothing complicated about it. Since day one, you have been completely open with each other about everything, so ambiguity has never been an issue. Nothing ever lingers - you just talk about it. Good things, bad things, uncertain things. 

It’s an affectionate friendship, but it’s also a brutal one. You both have strong personalities, and everyone expects you to clash, and you do. But you do it in a way that is so open and true it never results in actual conflict. 

Changbin keeps you steady, Changbin knows you, and Changbin learns with you. To be human, to do better - but also to accept you’ll always have your flaws. 

Whistling a Side Effects song - it’s been stuck in your head - you head back to your usual booth and sit down. You take off your jacket, open your laptop and plug in your headphones. 

It’s difficult for you to find places where you manage to be productive when working. Your own apartment is often too warm; cafés are a nightmare; but the Trades, however, is perfect. There’s just an energy that gets your creative juices going, and you’ve been enjoying it as much as you can. 

You take a long sip of coffee and get to work. 

About twenty minutes later, you see Changbin crossing the room towards the main entrance with someone - the person he was in a meeting with, obviously. You recognize Seungmin, Side Effects’ manager. They seem to be on friendly terms, so you’re wondering why they met. You can’t resist the temptation to take off your headphones to try and listen, but they’re too far away. 

It’s been two days since the party and you can’t think about much else, although you keep telling yourself it’s pathetic. Still, you’re intrigued. You thought the band would’ve left town by now. Clearly, they haven’t.  

Changbin appears a minute later, sitting down on the booth in front of you with a smirk you can only describe as ecstatic. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Tell me you still have the file for your poster,” he tells you. 

“Always,” you frown. “Why?”

He scrunches his nose and leans towards you. 

“Because you’ll have to add something to it. Encore.” 

“Wha - WHAT? WHEN?!” 

“In two days.”

“TWO DAYS?” 

Changbin explains that the band’s next scheduled performances have been canceled due to a flood in the venue. Since their tour would only resume a few days later, they had some free time ahead and decided to stay in town. 

They offered to perform another time at the Trades because they loved the place, and Changbin certainly wasn’t going to refuse. A last-minute show on a Wednesday would be a challenge to organize, but it could be done. It would be done.

Giving Changbin a tight hug with a squeal of excitement, you immediately get to work on the design of the poster announcing the new date. The rush of adrenaline is inducing a rush of inspiration, and you have it wrapped up in a few hours. 

Once you’ve sent the file to the printer, you lean back against the booth and realize you’re hungry. You remember you still have leftovers in your fridge, so you decide to head home. You throw your bag around your shoulder but leave your headphones around your neck for when you’re outside. It’s quiet in the Trades, but you glance around the room to see if anyone is there so you can say goodbye. 

There’s only one person there, sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging his legs and looking around. For a second you think your eyes must be deceiving you, but it’s him. Han Jisung. 

He’s wearing grey jeans covered in patches of different patterns. His oversized red and black striped sweater is torn here and there, his dark hair in disarray. To complete his look, he wears a thin leather choker around his neck and a variety of bracelets on his wrists, and his nails are painted pitch black. 

Whatever he might say, he does look like a rockstar. 

You don’t know if you know him well enough to just approach him like that, but you figure that his tongue being in your mouth less than forty hours ago must count for something, so you take a few tentative steps towards the stage.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. 

He turns his head in mild curiosity, and once he sees you, grins widely. 

“I was hoping to find you here,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Sure you were.”

“Sorry. It was too easy,” Jisung chuckles. 

“Seriously, why are you here?” 

He shrugs, the heels of his leather boots hitting the stage as he keeps swaying his legs. 

“I was really bored, so I took a walk. Ended up here, and the doors were wide open,” he explains. 

He looks up to the ceiling, a strand of hair brushing his forehead and falling in front of his right eye.

“I love to see venues when they’re empty. They’re this special feeling about them.”

“I know what you mean,” you agree with a smile. “It’s calm, but there’s still… this lingering tension.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Jisung nods, looking back at you, eyeing you up and down. 

You feel a little casual compared to him in your baggy jeans and crewneck, your hair tied behind your hair with a claw clip, not wearing any makeup. You must look like a different person from the other night, but Jisung does not make you feel self-conscious. He looks at you exactly the same, with an intrigued gleam and a charming smile. 

“Where are you heading?” he asks. 

“Home,” you reply. “To eat.” 

“Ooh,” he chants, jumping down from the stage. “I’m in.” 

You stare at him in disbelief. 

“What?” 

“I kinda feel like a cheeseburger, though,” he states, walking towards you with purpose. He stops in front of you. “I’m paying.” 

You open your mouth to argue with him, but then you realize you don’t want to. Free food and pretty entertaining company? Why not. You nod.

“Lead the way,” he says with a grin.

In a couple of steps you’re standing outside under a timid sun. You point to the left, and Jisung follows you. 

“So what do you do here, exactly?” he asks, nodding towards the Trades. 

“Nothing,” you say. “I don’t work there, not really.” 

He frowns. “So why are you -”

“Changbin is my oldest friend. I helped him put the place together, and it’s kind of just… where I hang out. I designed the logo, though.” 

“You did that?” Jisung wonders, pointing to the sign. 

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he whistles. “Looks really cool.” 

You thank him with a smile. Although you’re always hard on yourself when it comes to work, you are proud of what you did for the Trades. Not that you would have accepted anything less than perfection, anyway. 

“I did the posters for your show, too,” you add. 

Jisung gives you a smile that you would call impressed, and you feel a tang of pride in your heart. 

“So you’re a graphic designer?” 

“Yup.” 

“Cool. Tell me about it.” 

You have no idea why he’s interested, but you indulge him, telling him more about your work as you head towards the closest diner. It’s not a fancy place, far from it, but they do have the best cheeseburgers in the neighborhood, in your opinion. Jisung doesn’t look like the fancy type, anyway. As you watch and listen to him, you feel like he’s more the type of person that can adapt to every environment they’re in. 

Being constantly on the road as he is, you guess it must be a good quality to possess. Has he always been like that, though? Or is it something he picked up along the way to make it easier? 

Something about him just tickles your curiosity.

You sit down on a booth of worn black leather and the waitress brings you the menu. Jisung doesn’t look at it - just at you. 

“Were you born here?” 

“Yes.”

“You never left?” 

“Nope.” 

“Not even for traveling?” 

“Just once. Went to London.” 

“For what?” 

“Fun.” 

“Hm.” 

“Are we done with the interrogation?” 

To your surprise, Jisung lets out a loud laugh, sliding his hand through his hair. 

“Sorry. I meet so many people, and I rarely have the chance to get to know them. This is new.” 

“So I’m the first human being apart from your band and management you are able to have a conversation with in what, weeks?”

“Months.” 

“No pressure, then.” 

His smile stays on his face, large and luminous. You kind of like it. The waitress comes back to take your order, and you ask for two cheeseburgers, two sodas, and a large plate of fries to share. 

Jisung keeps asking you questions. You tell him about how you met Changbin - kindergarten - what was the best concert of your life - not his - and what your favorite font is - depends on the day.  

You get your food not long after, and as you pick up your burger, you decide to turn the table on him a little. Only fair, right? 

“So you’ve been bored and wandering around. What about the rest of the band?” you ask as he takes a bit of his burger. “What have they been doing?”

“Sleeping,” Jisung answers with his mouth full. He swallows. “Fuck, this is a good burger.”

“Must be grateful for the rest,” you say.

Jisung shakes his head. “Not all of them. Minho can’t stay still to save his life. He’s climbing up the walls already.”

You laugh in disbelief. “Really? He looks so… calm.” 

“He’s so weird,” Jisung laughs. 

You hear the tenderness in his voice, and you catch a glimpse of the bond that must be linking them. You felt it, even when they were on stage. They were more than a band - they were brothers. 

“And the other two?” you ask, simply out of curiosity. 

“Chris is fine. He doesn’t say it but he’s glad to be able to stay in. Work on music. Watch movies.” 

Jisung’s eyes darken. 

“Felix… sleeps. A lot.” 

You can hear something there, but you don’t want to ask. It’s none of your business, after all. Still, Jisung explains.

“He’s been through shit recently. So it’s good he can sleep.” 

You smile softly. “You’re really close, right? The four of you.”

“Yeah,” Jisung nods. “With Seungmin, too.” 

The softness on his face is new, but it does not last too long. Quickly, his smirk comes back, his eyes full of mischief. 

“You like video games?”

You expect Jisung to bring you back to the house where the party took place, but instead he walks you to an apartment building. He explains that the house would’ve been too expensive for a longer stay - it’s not like they were millionaires - so they found this place on Airbnb for cheap. It’s smaller, but more than big enough for the four of them. The rest of the crew shared another place a few blocks over. 

“The four of us lived in a shoebox for the longest time while we were in our garage phase,” Jisung says as he closes the door behind you. “So this is luxurious.” 

He doesn’t bother to give you a tour, but you don’t care. Leaving your bag in the hallway, you follow him to the kitchen. 

“That was a long-ass walk you took.”

Minho is glaring at Jisung, wearing two oven mitts and a neon pink bucket hat. The kitchen smells delicious, and you glance at the oven to try and see what is cooking in there. 

“Found a stray cat,” Jisung says, waving at you. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Cute of you to act like it wasn’t you that was lost.”

“I wasn’t lost. Just bored.” 

Minho stares at you - or, well, you think he is. His eyes are completely hidden under his hat and his hair. He raises an oven mitt towards you, and you have to guess he’s pointing.

“Staring contest girl.” 

“Not the worst nickname I’ve heard,” you pout.

“What was?” Jisung asks. 

“You’ll never know.” 

Minho chuckles. 

“Made some meat pies if you’re hungry.” 

“Thanks, bro.” 

You frown as he grabs a plate to get a slice. 

“But you just ate -”

You stop and shrug. One thing you’ll never judge or pretend to understand is how a person’s stomach works.

Minho and Jisung start whispering between themselves, and it seems like you hear Felix’s name, so you give them some space. In the meanwhile, you wander around the apartment, check out the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and then enter the living room. It’s a cozy space with a large sectional and a huge TV. You glance around for a good thirty seconds before you notice there’s someone sitting in a window nook. He hasn’t seen you, his eyes focused on his computer. Piled up on his head is a beanie, a pair of headphones and a hoodie. Chris. Jisung’s description was accurate. 

“Don’t mind him,” Jisung tells you as he reappears next to you. “When he’s like that he’s not conscious of the outside world. You could be walking around naked he wouldn’t notice.” 

“Sounds like a theory you’ve tested before.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

You both plop down on the couch, laughing, and Jisung turns on the console. He hands you a controller and you start to play Crash Bandicoot, not really talking. You enjoy taking your mind off things, not really thinking about the situation you are in. Why are you here, after all? There’s no clear reason apart from the fact that you like Jisung. But you aren’t the type to question things too much - most of the time you prefer to just follow the path life takes you on. 

For now it’s taken you here. 

You spend the next few hours playing and eating snacks. At some point, Felix emerges from his room and sits on an armchair, dizzily staring at the screen. He looks exhausted, snuggled in a hoodie that is way too big for him, black hair curling around his ears. 

When your eyes get tired Minho takes your place, playing a few games with Jisung as you text with Changbin. He reminds you you’re supposed to go to a birthday party that night, and you let out an irritated sigh. 

“Fuck me,” you hiss through your teeth, resisting the urge to throw your phone across the room. 

“Sure,” Jisung grins at you. 

When you glare back, he chuckles. 

“What’s up?” 

“I have to go to this thing tonight. Birthday party.” 

“Hm. Sounds fun.” 

“Really not. The girl is a nightmare but she can’t, for the life of her, understand we’re not friends anymore, and that Bin will never be interested in her pathetic ass. All she does is show off how much money she has.” 

“Wow,” Minho laughs. “Now I kinda want to meet her.” 

“Good idea,” Jisung nods. “We’re not doing anything tonight, anyway, and I don’t know for you guys, but I don’t want to spend my entire night shut up in here. Let’s go.” 

You shake your head. 

“No way.” 

“Think about it, Y/N,” Minho says, placing his elbows on his thighs. “Bringing us as guests would shut her right up.

“And I need to get really drunk,” Felix states, all of a sudden. 

It’s the first words he’s spoken since he got out of his room, and while you look at him in surprise, the other two seem used to it. 

“Then let’s do it,” Jisung claims, clapping his hands.

“I have to go home and change, though. If I show up like that she’ll start a rumor I’m homeless or something,” you sigh. 

Jisung waves his hand. “That’s fine. I’ll come with you and help you choose a killer outfit. You guys meet us there, yeah?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get Chris when he emerges from the deep,” Minho nods.

Jisung takes your hand and lifts you off the couch. He guides you back to the hallway and slides on his boots. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say. “We can meet there.” 

“I wanna see your place,” Jisung simply responds.

Maybe you should be freaked out or annoyed at the game he’s playing. You know he’s just trying to get to know you, that you’re an adventure for him, but it also feels like he wants to assimilate as much as he possibly can before time runs out. It’s cute, but it’s also unnerving. What will he do with all this knowledge of you, once he leaves? Will he forget? Will you become a fond memory, or one that will fade away over time? 

You shouldn’t indulge him, because you’ll probably end up getting hurt. But at the same time, it’s stimulating for you, too. Letting someone in. Letting him see who you are, every part of you, knowing it’s temporary. Then he can walk away, carrying pieces of you. There’s a beauty to that you can’t yet grasp. 

When you arrive at your place, you let him walk around to look at what he wants, heading for your room. It’s not a big apartment, nor is it in perfect shape, but you made it yours. You and Changbin took the lease most particularly for the bathroom, which is more spacious than any you’ve seen in the city. In exchange, both of your bedrooms are kind of tiny, but it’s not like you have people over very often. If you do, it’s agreed you’ll find another place to stay for the night. 

You remove your clothes of the day, changing your underwear and slipping on a short leather skirt. You’re zipping it up when the door of your room opens on Jisung, who strolls in like he lives there. 

“What the fuck?” you let out, covering your chest - you’re only wearing a bra.

“You told me to make myself at home,” Jisung smirks, sitting down on your bed, sliding his hand on your comforter. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Come on,” he says. “You’re almost dressed already. Love the skirt. Is this the shirt you’re planning on wearing?” 

He lifts the piece of clothing, a black tank top that laces on the front, and hands it to you. You snag it from his hand, slipping it on swiftly. He eyes you up and down. 

“What about accessories?” 

He stands up, walking to your dresser, and opens your jewelry box. You stare at him, absolutely mind blown at his behavior. 

“Oh. Love that. That’s hot,” he says, handing you a lace choker you haven’t worn in ages. 

“Having fun playing dress-up, are we?” you laugh. 

He winks at you, and proceeds to choose the rest of your outfit. Cherry earrings, silver rings, and loose hair. Once he’s done, he twirls you around, biting his lip.

“Perfect,” he says, slipping a hand on your waist to pull you close. “Thoroughly fuckable, if I might say so.” 

“Thanks?” you answer with a giggle. 

“Y/N,” he breathes, taking a step towards you. “C’m’here.” 

Before you can answer anything, he plunges his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell, and places a kiss there that sends shivers all over your body. You close your eyes.

“Jisung…” 

“It’s not the outfit,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve thought about fucking you all day.” 

You do your best not to let out a moan right there, instead biting your lip hard as he keeps kissing your neck. 

“Jisung,” you breathe. “I just got dressed.” 

“I don’t want you to undress.” 

You frown as he pushes you towards the bed. You lay down, eyes on him. Outside the blue is fading to black, enveloping the room in a heavy purple, and there’s something earnest and intimate about it. You’ve been on edge ever since that kiss he gave you - and you’ve so desperately wanted to know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been interrupted. 

You have somewhere to be, but you don’t care. Jisung is at your apartment and visibly also wants to pick up things where you left them off. You are not going to waste the opportunity. 

Jisung’s hands spread your legs, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on your thighs. 

“Just want to get a taste,” he mutters. 

Your breath hitches as he pushes up your skirt, lips brushing your skin. He makes his way between your legs, finally setting his mouth on your underwear. At this point you are writhing around him, desperate for a direct touch. 

“Getting wet for me so fast,” he breathes. “How can I resist you?” 

“No one talked of resisting,” you answer in a sigh. 

He chuckles. “Fair point. Can I?” 

You nod, and he draws your underwear aside, leaving you exposed to his eyes. You spread some more for him, pulling up your skirt, and he does not waste another second. His lips embrace your wetness, his tongue swirling around your clit. You let out a shaky sigh, your fingers reaching for his hair. Your thoughts wander, far away from your reach, as you just enjoy Jisung’s caresses. 

He hums against you as you roll your hips against his mouth. It’s working wonders for you, your pleasure building quickly. 

“That’s good, baby,” he breathes. “Make yourself come in my mouth.” 

You’re hot, your body tense, Jisung making out with your cunt. His tongue makes a quick work of it, and you come not long after. You shiver delightfully, and it takes you a while to come down. As you do, Jisung gently replaces your underwear where it was, contemplating the drenched fabric with a satisfied smile. 

“Now you can walk around all evening in your soaked underwear, courtesy of me, and I’ll have your taste on my tongue,” he says in a low voice, his smirk all the right kinds of dirty. 

You’re still riding the high of your orgasm, so you don’t really find the right words. You just smile at him.

“You’re fucking insane.” 

“Just trying to enjoy the time I have.”

The taxi drops you off in front of your friend’s house. Jisung hands him a few bills and comes to stand next to you, admiring the place. 

It’s huge, outrageously so, the typical rich person’s, and you absolutely hate it. From the judgemental look on Jisung’s face, so does he. 

You put a hand on his shoulder. “You asked for it.”

Felix, Chris and Minho are already inside, according to Jisung’s phone, and it takes you a while to find them - the house is packed and loud. 

“Have you seen Changbin?” you ask them, but they shake their heads. 

You check your phone - no news from your friend. He’s probably running late or has a last minute hold up. You decide to stick around anyway. You’re dressed up, you’re here, and you have company. 

You get drinks and sit between Jisung and Chris. You talk a lot to the latter, who, now that he doesn’t have his head in his computer, proves to be really fun company. You discuss productivity and creative slumps, interrupted here and there by the occasional fan asking for an autograph or a picture. Jisung is busy playing cards with Minho, his hand on your thigh. Felix is flirting with a few people, drinking fast, his smile widening with every second. 

When your friend comes into your field of vision, and eyes you with annoyed envy, you are so happy you could sing. You wish her a happy birthday, the band too, and for once she has absolutely nothing to say. 

“Changbin didn’t come?” she asks as a last resort. 

“Sorry, he couldn’t make it,” you reply with a fake pout, trying to hold back your laughter. 

When she leaves, dumbfounded and annoyed, you laugh hysterically with Jisung for so long you have tears streaming down your cheeks and your sides hurt. 

As the night advances, Jisung’s hand rides higher and higher on your thigh. His eyes get glassy with the alcohol, as do yours - in fact, everyone gets pretty wasted. Chris and Minho share a joint, keeping an eye on Felix. Despite the chaotic ambiance around you, you five stay pretty calm, chilling on the couch you claimed, talking or playing silly games. 

A few other people join you for a classic game of never have I ever - except you’re all too drunk already to play with drinks, so you agree on changing the rules. If you have, you kiss the person to your right. 

“Never have I ever been naked in public,” Felix proposes. 

His eyes are lit up like fireworks, and he stares at Chris, who shakes his head.

“Oh my gosh…” 

“You HAVE to, Chris!” Felix cackles. “We all saw you!” 

“What’s the story?” you ask, laughing. 

“Nothing interesting. You don’t want to know,” Chris sighs. 

“I do!” you retort. 

“A simple story, really,” Minho explains, twirling a joint between his fingers. “He went to take a shower at the camping site we were staying at, and I stole his clothes.” 

You all burst out laughing, and Felix claps his hands. 

“C’mon, now. Kisses. On the mouth.” 

Felix receives a kiss from the girl next to him, which surprises him - and Chris turns to you. 

“It’s the game, right?" he laughs. "Sorry, Ji.” 

“No harm, man.” 

“You’re okay with it, right?” Chris asks you.

You nod, amused. Chis leans in, a smirk on his face, and slides his fingers in your hair. His lips are plump, kissing you gently, and you feel yourself melt a little. You almost don’t want to stop, your hand falling against his chest. The booze makes your tongue act on its own, dancing with his, and Chris indulges. It takes a minute before you lean back, falling back on the couch. 

“Fuck, damn,” you laugh. Your cheeks are red. “You’re a good kisser.” 

“So are you,” Chris smiles. 

“That was hot,” Jisung lets out with a solemn nod. 

You hide your face in his neck, giggling like a teenager, and the game continues. At the next question, Minho kisses the guy next to him, and you appreciate the sight a little too much. Your senses are getting tangled - between the booze, the weed, Jisung’s warm fingers around your thigh, Chris’ tongue and the sight of so many people making out, you’re officially horny. 

It doesn’t help that you still feel your wet underwear against your cunt, reminding you of the joys of Jisung’s tongue. 

You bite your lip, waiting for the right moment. Finally, a girl asks never have I ever stolen a car, and nobody moves - except you. You fall against Jisung, pulling him into a needy kiss. The people around you start yelling and laughing. 

“What the fuck!” 

“STOP MAKING OUT, WE NEED THE STORY,” Felix screams.

“I don’t think we’ll get the story tonight, bro,” Chris tells him with a chuckle.

He’s right, because you’re lost in your kiss, Jisung’s hands all over you. You don’t even care that there’s dozens of people around. You devour his lips, get drunker on his taste. You want him, you need him - and he kisses you deep and passionately. One of his hands grip your ass and you moan softly. 

“I think we’ve lost them,” Minho says. 

“Hey,” Chris says in your ear. “Get a fucking room.” 

A giggle escapes your mouth and Jisung pulls away from you. His lips are already swollen, and the sight is so attractive you have no idea how your legs are able to hold your weight as he pulls you on your feet. 

“Have a good time,” Felix sings as you walk away. 

You wave at them, letting Jisung guide you through a house neither of you really know. You stumble through the crowd, stopping to kiss sometimes, and you can’t wait to be alone. It’s proving to be complicated, though, because every door you come across is either locked or already has people busy behind it. You scoff and snicker until you find a door that has a piece of paper taped on it. 

PRIVATE DO NOT ENTER

You exchange a knowing look with Jisung. No words needed. He turns the handle and you see stairs leading down. You close the door behind you, lock it, stumbling down the stairs to the basement. 

When you get there, you gasp. 

It’s a beautiful room, with thick, fancy carpets and the biggest TV you’ve ever seen. There’s a bar in the corner, and on a wall, a collection of guitars. You stare in awe at everything, Jisung standing behind you, kissing your neck.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

For a second you forget all about Jisung, running towards the guitar displayed on the far right. It’s the same, you realize. The exact same model. 

“That’s a rare one,” Jisung says, sliding next to you. “Worth a fortune.” 

“My mom had one,” you tell him with a smile. “She found it at a flea market. Guy had no idea what he had. She paid 11 dollars for it.” 

Jisung smiles even more widely. “It was meant to be.” 

“Yeah.” 

You smile fondly at the memory. It soothes you, envelops you. You forget where you are, for a second, although your entire body is drunk on Jisung. 

“You play?” he asks you, his eyes not leaving yours, his hand putting a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“A little,” you admit.

“Then let’s hear it.” 

“No, Ji, you can’t touch -” 

You might not know him that well, but one thing you are learning about Jisung is that he does not care. So it’s without hesitation that he grabs the guitar from the display and hands it to you. You laugh, carefully taking it. 

You sit down on the floor, the guitar in your arms, and you gently brush the strings. Jisung sits in front of you, leaning against the back of a couch. 

Before you know it, you’re playing a melody you know like the back of your hand. With your eyes closed, and just the sound of music to guide you, it all feels like a dream. The basement, the party, even Jisung, it all fades - you’re alone with the guitar for a few seconds. 

When you open your eyes again, at the end of the song, Jisung is staring at you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. 

“A little?” he repeats.

You laugh. “Ok. More than a little.” 

“You didn’t tell me you’re a musical genius.” 

“I’m not.” 

He lifts an index. “I’ve heard a lot of people play the guitar. I’m not just saying this. I think I’m lowkey in love with you, now.” 

You smile at him, at his dark hair and his round eyes, at the line of eyeliner under them, at the choker around his neck, at the red and black sweater you were gripping desperately minutes ago. 

“Same to you,” you admit. 

He grins and crawls over to give you a kiss. The guitar falls beside you, immediately forgotten. Jisung hums against your lips. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you in a hoarse voice. 

“Yes please,” you answer, and he laughs. 

You remove his sweater and let your fingers wander around his chest, touching his skin. It feels warm. Still kissing you, he unlaces your top, cupping your breasts. He teases your sensitive nipples, drawing a soft cry from your lips. You arch your back, thrusting your hips against his. You can feel his hard cock under his jeans, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around the bulge to stroke him. Jisung grunts in your mouth, and suddenly bites your lower lip.

You jump in your surprise, letting out a moan. 

“Keep moaning for me, baby,” he whispers, gliding his teeth across your lips. “You sound so hot.”

“Fuck, Ji. I’ve been dreaming about that cock.” 

You unbuckle his belt and take him out of his boxers. He’s hard, and you lift your hand to your mouth, slowly licking your palm. You keep your eyes on him while you do it, and he stares back at you, mouth parted, taking in the sight. Then, you start to stroke him, coating his length with your spit. 

“I’m going to fucking ruin you,” Jisung growls. 

He roughly takes your hand away, enclosing his fingers around your wrist, and pins it against the carpet. He lays you down as you bite your lip in amusement, glancing at his erection - and you can almost see him pulsating. He doesn’t let go of your arm, pushes up your skirt and pulls down your panties at the same time, and slides his fingers against your pussy. 

You shudder as he chuckles.

“You’re still so fucking wet, baby.”

“It was all the kissing,” you admit with a smile.

You kiss his jawline, his neck, his ear, as he keeps rubbing his fingers against your wetness. You’re clenching around nothing, your hips moving in search of pressure - but Jisung keeps his caresses light. 

“Chris got you good, didn’t he?” 

“He did,” you breathe, although you can barely find the words. 

“Got me, too, to see you make out,” he replies, keeping his voice low. “Maybe one day I can watch you fuck.” 

As he says the words, he inserts two fingers inside of you, and you let out a choked whimper. 

“Fuck, Ji, don’t say shit like that,” you cry out.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you want to?” 

“Right now, I just want you,” you say, and you mean it. 

He smiles against your lips as you kiss him. You sit up slightly, and he liberates you, taking his fingers out of you. He slides them into his mouth, cleaning them. 

“The taste was almost gone,” he explains, and you smile.

You give yourself a boost to turn him around so you can straddle him. You place yourself so your folds grind against his cock, swaying your hips slowly. He lets out a deep breath, and you throw your head back. Your hands sprawl on his chest as you keep moving, and you know you’re making a mess, smearing your wetness on his skin, but you don’t care. 

“Fuck, yes, baby,” he moans. 

You glance at him with a smile. 

“You like that?” 

“I do. Are you coming?” 

“I’m close.” 

“Then stop. I want you to come around my dick.” 

Not that you could refuse him. He takes out a condom from his back pocket - you don’t question why he would have that ready - and hands it to you. You get him ready, your fingers trembling slightly. 

“Going to pound that pussy so good,” Jisung whispers to you, placing your hair behind your ears, cupping your cheek. 

You rub his length against you to lubricate, and then slowly ease him in. A curse escapes your lips, and Jisung secures his hands on your hips. You accelerate gradually, and soon you are fucking him, your capacity to think escaping you. He helps you by bucking his hips, deepening the thrusts. 

One of his hands travels across your stomach, squeezes your breast.

“So pretty,” he moans. 

“You’re so fucking deep inside me,” you breathe out.

“C’m’here, baby,” he grunts, pulling you towards him, so you lean against his chest. 

He places your arm behind your back, pinning you in place, and your knees fall on either side of him. Then, he starts hammering into you. The way he holds you, you can barely move, and the sensation is so intense it instantly makes you see stars. 

“Holy shit, Ji,” you whimper. “I’m coming…” 

“Come, pretty thing,” he whispers in your ear. 

You come undone around him, shaking violently as he keeps you in place. Your moans echo through the basement, and maybe you’re being too loud, but you don’t care. You’re pretty sure no one can hear you above the deafening music from upstairs, anyway. Jisung continues to thrust into you, placing a few languid kisses on your neck until you’ve come down. Only then does he slow down.

“How was that, baby?” he asks, still rolling his hips.

“So fucking good.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiles. “Stand up for me.” 

You nod and manage to push yourself on your wobbly legs. You lean against the couch, and a part of you just wants to lay down on it. But Jisung has another idea. He stands up as well, pulling you in his arms. 

“Sit here,” he says, and pats the back of the couch. 

He pushes the hair away from your face, kissing you deeply, his cock brushing your pussy. He’s still so hard - you know he’s not done with you. You settle on the top of the couch, spreading your legs. Jisung takes his pulsating cock and guides it inside of you again, keeping your legs apart. 

You’re already getting too used to having him there, because your body hums in approval, and your pleasure immediately starts building back up. It feels like he’s filling every inch of you, his breath heavy on your neck, thrusting into you in deep, languorous moves. 

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” you mutter. 

“It’s because you take me so well, baby,” he grins. “But I like your compliments.”

You bite your lip. “Praise kink?” 

“Y’know it.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his earlobes, licking his neck. You start to suck at the skin there, intent on leaving a trace, and he growls. 

“You’re look so fucking sexy right now, Ji,” you breathe in his ear. “I love your cock. I love how you fuck me with it. You’re so beautiful and you made me come so hard.” 

You feel him twitch inside of you, and you can’t help but smile. You hum, planting a few kisses along his jawline. 

“Is there anything you can’t do, Ji?” you breathe, although he starts thrusting into you so hard you have a hard time aligning your words. “Such a good kisser, and you… You fuck so well… And the way you play…” 

He moans, slamming into you. The sound of your voice, of his breathing, of his skin slapping against yours becomes a blissful symphony.  

“When I saw you playing the drums… Fuck, I just fell in love with you,” you say. 

You don’t know how you’re still talking because he’s moving faster and faster, bringing you to the edge again. 

“Your fingers around the sticks… The way you hit the drums… So fast and brutal…” 

“Fuck, baby…” he whimpers.

“You’re magic, Ji,” you cry out. “Everything that you are is magic.” 

He moves his head to capture your lips again, and you moan in his mouth. Your kisses are feverish, disorderly.

“I’m coming again,” you moan.

“Don’t hold it back, baby, fuck, keep clenching like that,” he says. 

You’re seconds away from coming when he does, and the feeling of his cock bursting into you is almost too much to handle. Your orgasm reverberates in your entire body, his too - and after a few seconds of delightful chaos you breathe out against each other, panting. 

When you’re able, you open your eyes. His remain closed, and you admire the sweat on his skin, the slightly smudged makeup. You must look as much of a mess as he is. 

You place a chaste kiss on his lower lip, and he opens his eyes to smile at you. 

“I don’t want to move,” he says. 

“Me neither,” you admit. 

“Let’s just stay like that for a few more seconds.” 

You nod, your head falling on his shoulder. After a minute, however, your legs start to waver, and you reluctantly move away from each other. Luckily there’s a bathroom in the basement, so you go together to clean up. He helps you lace your top back on and you insist on putting back his belt yourself. 

He strokes your hair. Kisses you on the temple. Keeps your hand in his as you walk back upstairs. 

You feel dizzy. You feel good. 

This is dangerous. 

Jisung will be leaving soon. 

He’ll forget you and you’ll have to do the same.

All in good time. 

Felix has fallen asleep on Chris’ shoulder, who is texting on his phone. Minho is playing a card game with the guy from earlier - when you approach them, he gives you a nod. 

“You two look fucked out.” 

“Let’s go home,” Jisung says, ruffling Minho’s hair. 

You watch as the two boys walk away, their arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. Although you’re exhausted your smile doesn’t leave you, and you help Chris wake Felix. The guitarist groans but still follows you, and you steal a bowl of chips on your way out so you can eat them in the taxi. 

You get to the band’s rental and everyone heads for their bedrooms - you leave the empty bowl on the kitchen counter, following Jisung to his bed. You both fall against the mattress, entangling your limbs together, and you sleep.

Thank you for reading! I really hope you liked it, please let me know if you did. See you soon for part two!

#han smut #han x reader #han x you #han x y/n #han jisung smut #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids smut #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you

[hikarihenkoyo]

Modern!Megaera design +small notes of her design for the AU for today! Extra thoughts and notes I've had so far under the cut

I was rereading Son of Neptune the other day and got reminded that all of Hades' employees are modernized because Than pulls out a fucking IPad (Love that for him) so I couldn't shake off the idea of everyone getting phones and tech to do their jobs.

Meg tries so hard to keep it strictly professional, Than has a lot of extra ways to stay in contact at Hades request, and Zag 100% does not care about staying professional so he's frequently sending memes and pics to the other 2 much to their dismay. RIP to the shade that accidently got CC'd into an email chain filled with like a billion closeup photos of Cerby.

Also custom underworld emojis because I'm the only one who thinks it's funny. There's deffo ones of all the plushies like Battie and Mort, all the dog emotes are red like Cerby, and despite this, Zag prefers emoticons. If he took a shot every time he used :D and :) he'd get tossed into the Styx for alcohol poisoning lmao

Also! Thinking about how the Furies disguise themselves in PJO- I'd like to think Meg has a few different appearances she can use for jobs on the surface but the one in the image is how she looks when she doesn't bother and The Mist hides her :D

ok thats all for now thanks

#my art #hades game #hades #megaera #hades Megaera #hades fanart #megthanzag #kinda #crumbs of it #I'LL DRAW ALL THREE TOGETHER AFTER IM DONE WITH THAN'S DESIGN

[velvetmud]

All Those Aches and Pains

warning(s): explicit 18+, period sex, blood, oral, daddy kink, dirty talk, messy filth

in which joel especially loves how you taste during usual painful days of the month

-

Despite how swollen, sore, and achy you’d felt since it started yesterday morning, bleeding through everything and getting all worked up over nothing — Joel could still easily read you, feel what you needed from him but hadn’t known how much you’ve needed it just yet.

He’s done all the right things in taking care of you, running you your bath, feeding you your indulging treats, leaving you alone to your own space when you need time to rest and recharge. There was just one last thing he planned on checking off his list for whenever you were dealing with these particularly dreadful aches and pains.

“You know where I need that pussy, baby,” he heaves from down below you, gorgeously naked with his dark pupils totally blown. “Get it down on my mouth. Yeah, that’s right. It’s okay if we’re messy, s’what tastes good.”

Kissing little marks while his trustworthy hands engulf the entirety of your thigh in each, your pussy could only wait for what was to come and drool more slick and blood. He hears how obscenely wet you sound, taking the back of his finger and teasing a swirl in. He feels his irritating cock start to move about and bob up and down, aching for some attention from the erotic sounds.

“Jus’ need to cum the pain away, don’t you, honey? Need to let it out on my tongue, yeah. Tastes so good like this.”

Spreading your lips apart gently with two fingers, he licks a stripe up the hood of your clit. Practically electrocuting you.

“Oh my god, daddy I love that—“

“And daddy loves you, baby,” he pants, hot breath blowing on your thumping pussy. The warmth alone thrilled you, clenching and gaping for his mouth. “Love eating my pretty pussy.”

He drags his flattened tongue down in gorgeous circles, mixing his spit with every fluid. The taste of earthy copper fills his tastebuds not too long when he goes in, and already he couldn’t get enough.

“Mmmm tastes so good for daddy. Was hungry for this poor little bleeding pussy all morning,” he whispers in the crevice of your skin, sucking one of your lips between his own while your hole helplessly spills more out.

His words put your body in a drunken frenzy, riding your hips along his chin and grinding on every ridge on his awaiting face. Joel is beaming, sweating, so clearly sent straight to heaven and happy to be of use for you when you don’t feel good. To give you release, and taste every new flavor you drip for him.

“Fuck, s’it your second day, sweetheart? Taste so fucking sweet on me right when it starts.”

“Y-yes, I— it hurts, daddy—I need you to make it feel better,” you whine, spreading out any remaining space so he’s completely submerged and diving in as good as he can. His tongue wiggles in a zig zag around your clit, gathering up your juices and flicking his tongue on your bud. He knows how sensitive it gets, loves slapping it with his cock right before you fuck. Even slaps it with his own palms whenever you’ve grown increasingly naughty against him.

“Shhh, pumpkin. I’m licking you better now, we’ll get your sore little pussy back to feeling good again. Gonna get rid of all those aches and pains,” he murmurs, locking eyes when he dips his tongue in and hums at the pool you’ve got gushing inside you. You see how hard it makes him, tasting you in these vulnerable moments—when your body’s in its monthly pain.

“Yeah, please, p-please keep licking it better daddy,” you whimper your request, scrunching his locks between your fingers while the vibrations of his hums give your body another beautiful buzz, thighs shaking while he laps at your pussy, slurping your juices up clean.

“Pussy’s gonna taste this amazing for me all week.. oh fuck I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere ‘til after you fuck my mouth first.”

He smoothes his tongue from your ass to the button of your clit, slipping his tongue in side to side and moaning in glory while he does it.

The raw taste of your pussy in heat does something primal to him, something substantial. Gathering up your slick onto his smooth fingertip, he guides it down before his cock before he blew this chance and busted on its own, snaking those wet fingers that he’d scooped inside you, pulling at his base in his hand and rubbing downward.

His cock was already angry and drooping, veins delectable looking out on display. The intensity in his eyes was also a sight to behold, dipping his tongue in and closing his eyes while his lips do all the work. You’re gaping for it but you know he wants you to cum on his mouth before anything else.

Without thinking he jabs his thumb in your slippery warmth, nearly going cross eyed at the welcoming heartbeat thumping of your pussy.

“You gonna give daddy your orgasm? Gonna get it in my mouth? Yeah you fuckin’ will. You better cum all over daddy’s tongue, daddy wants the taste.” he snarls, hips rigorously thrusting into his wet palm, the palm that he’d gotten covered in your blood and your juices. Joel hurries to slip his thumb out and suck on it, missing the flavor right before diving in to swirl his tongue in your taste again.

“Yeah, I know that pussy’s gettin’ ready. Shit. Mmhm, could eat this all fucking day.”

“I’m gonn—gonna cum, I can’t hold it any longer d—“

Joel halts his rigorous licking to hiss and spit, snarling up at you to “shut the fuck up and give it to me, mmm—baby, yeahhh you feeling good? like when daddy licks you up this good huh?”

“Y-yes…. need it, oh god,” you shake your head back and forth in a daze, feeling your body unclench and release it all on him.

“Need this every fuckin’ day of the month just to make it through, don’t you?” he chuckles, coming up for air briefly after giving your pussy another sloppy kiss.

“S’okay baby, I need it bad too. Can’t have my moody little slut in heat without getting her her orgasms, hm?”

He gulps and laps everything splashing on him, delighted in your long howls and whines, bratty hips still thrusting your clit onto his tongue like a slip and slide.

Your thighs quake in the heat of your buzzing aftershocks, heaving while Joel keeps his lips glued to your pussy, cleaning and kissing so gently and generously.

“M’it…. feels so good, daddy…”

“My girl this sleepy already? Came on my mouth too hard, baby?”

He laughs and smiles at your heavy eyes and sluggish posture, giving him playful shoves. “You know how much daddy loves to take care of you. Always will. ‘Specially love how you fuckin’ taste for me like this,” he scoops his middle finger in to demonstrate, shamelessly licking down the finger down to the knuckle.

When he has enough slick to glide his palm down his cock again, it takes less than twenty strokes as a whole until he’s shooting his load aimed right between your bloody puffy folds. He ruts the fat tip onto you and groans when you push back and slide up against him with your hips.

You’re already nearly out cold by the time he gets a damp washcloth for between your legs. The warm kiss that lands on your temple makes you stir, noticing the feeling of your soft pajama bottoms back on your legs he somehow got rolled up to your waist while you were knocked out. Water by your bedside, your favorite crackers accompanied. Little things that made all those aches and pains that much more bearable.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine