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princessbrunette · 6 months

Note

I love stepbro!jj, what about step sis asking jj to help her cum because she just can’t get the write angles :(

HELPING HAND ♡

tryin something new n decided to be less lazy with my writing and presentation. ♡

CW: step-cest, tiny bit of faux-cest if you blink i think ?? this is dark content technically, do not interact if that’s not ur thing. aside from that, usual warnings such as smut and mentions of past family issues. proceed with caution ❀

You loved when JJ came home.

It was simple, something he did everyday — well, most days atleast if he wasn’t off on some grand adventure you’d hear about a few days later, curled up to his side on the couch digging your toes into his thigh and begging him for details.

Anyway, JJ was different when he’d come home. Not like himself in the morning, running around frantically always half way out the door, still pulling up his pants holding the bagel you had put in the toaster between his teeth, ruffling your hair as he passes you as an apology for stealing your breakfast.

JJ when he came home was calmer. Not always super tired, just… done with the day, happy to be home, happy to see you. He was still warm from the sun, despite it having gone down hours ago, and always smelt like salt water still from being in and out the ocean all day. He’d wear a lazy dopey smile, dropping down on the worn leather of the couch beside you, spreading his arms along the back of it.

Today was different, and you wanted to be your usual silly and playful self with him, chatting until it gets late, your mother passed out asleep and his father taking a night shift up on the pier, a job JJ thinks he’s lucky to have talked himself into, yet pleasantly surprised he’s kept it up this long. Nights like these, your chatting would turn to playful wrestling, any excuse to get your hands on eachother and then a few guilty, chaste kisses once he’d inevitably pinned you. You weren’t in your usual mood however.

He hadn’t touched you in a while, not like that anyway. The glossy, pearl pink of your nail had been chipped off from your incessant nibbling, anxious thoughts swirling your mind regarding whether JJ had come to his senses, realising he shouldn’t be helping his little step-sister like this, and he’d rather just pretend it didn’t ever happen. God, had he spoken to someone about it? Been guided out of your needy hands? Your wondering had lead you to pull away slightly, not seek out his help like you so badly wanted to, trying to please yourself the way he did, attempting to remember the exact way he curved his fingers against your squelchy spot.

But your fingers weren’t long like his, and no matter how far you bent your wrist it just wouldn’t crook up to the angle you needed— and you didn’t even wanna get started on your lack of coordination in rubbing your clit at the same time, it was all too much for your hazy little head, and after pretty much working yourself to tears you’d resorted to huffing, pulling up your pyjama shorts and going to sulk on the couch in the dark, room lit up by old Spongebob re-runs.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes when JJ came home, and you wasn’t sure why. Well, you were — you were in a foul mood, and him walking through the door all warm and smiley and devastatingly charming just made you throb harder, clenching hard enough that you could crush a fuckin’ walnut in there. His dumb little sleeveless shirts and shorts and backwards red cap smushed over an abundance of sun-bleached hair. He didn’t even try, he just woke up and looked like that. It was twisted. How dare he.

“No ‘hello’? Y’know, you’re too pretty for all that pouting. Wanna talk about it? Talk to Papa J?”

He’s already teasing you, it’s like he knew. He flops down onto the couch next to you, leather covered couch cushions hissing under his weight, stretching himself across the space like he usually did. You wanted to crawl into his lap and rock against his dick and have your tongues wrap around eachother, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your step-brother, you both needed to resist for a painful amount of time before you gave in, to prove to yourselves you were good, normal people. You didn’t see the point, you’d said it once and you still thought it— JJ was just bein’ a good big brother, helping you out when you need him so desperately. However, the denial of your shared feelings had become routine, and if it’s what it took for JJ to give in and help you, you were happy to play ball.

“S’bad JJ, I shouldn’t say. Doesn’t matter anyway.” You all but huff, turning back to the TV. Your lashes flutter a little when he urgently shifts closer, tilting his head trying to gauge your expression. You kind of wanted to smile, you liked that he cared.

“Wh- yes it matters. Is someone bothering you?” Yes. You. A tidal wave of warmth brushes over your arms, stomach curling tightly in on itself at the thought of JJ being protective over you, teaching someone who was being mean to you a lesson. You bite your lip, and when you turn to look at him again he’s closer than he was before, brow creased waiting for you to speak.

You look at him, look at that little cut on his lip. The graze on his cheek. Wonder how it happened. You exhale slowly through your nose, brows furrowing and you blink a few times as you gather your thoughts. He thinks it’s cute when you do that.

“No one is bothering me. I just… I haven’t been able t’do what you did. As good as you did it.” You slowly spell it out, not wanting to say any of the crude terms, or even specifically have to own up to what you wanted. You said a millisecond-long prayer in hoping he would simply understand what you meant, but when you’d lifted your gaze back up to the blonde boy after shyly staring at your chipped nail polish, he was squinting one eye at you, mouth a little gaped.

“Yeah, uh— y’gonna have to be a touch more specific than that, honey. Know I’m a genius, but I ain’t a mind reader.” He leans back into the couch, relaxing once you told him no one was picking on you.

You clench your fist in your lap, looking up at the ceiling in despair as if the answer to your problems was up there. You drop your eyes back to JJ, the cause and true answer to your problem and brace yourself. “I haven’t been able to… touch myself as good as you did it to me. Tried all night Jayj, even started crying ‘cos I couldn’t do it right. Just feel all… empty since we last did it.” Your bottom lip pushes out and you curl your legs up so you could wrap your arms around them, physically making yourself as small as possible seeing as you’d wanted to disappear into the couch in that moment.

For once, JJ is lost for words.

You can’t handle the silence as he stares at you, contemplating his next action. So, you speak again. “Sorry Jayj… j’st need you to do everything for me.” You look so pitiful, it’s sweet in a kicked puppy kind of way. He’d like to consider himself a helpful kinda guy, infact he knew he was— he wouldn’t be in half the shit John B dragged him into every single day if he wasn’t constantly putting his ass on the line to help him. This was no different, this was risky. He could break up a happy family, ruin things for his dad if he got caught doing this. God, he’s such a troublemaker it made him want you more.

“Look,” He speaks, closing his eyes and fixing his hat on his head. He speaks your name softly and it just sounds better on his tongue than anyone else’s. You squish your thighs together, preparing to be shut down. Your face is all pained, and he realises you’ve come to him practically begging him to touch you because you’re hurting without him. His dick jumps in his shorts. “I’ve been tryin’ t’do the right thing. Y’know? S’not easy. When you walk around looking like that. Looking at me like that. You think I haven’t been thinking about the last time we—” He cuts himself off with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. Was he mad? Your brow creases even more and he thinks you might cry, so he scoots back up to you, draping an arm round you like you’re just a kid who’s being comforted after a scolding. “It’s really that bad?” He tongues at the cut on his lip. You nod, feeling sorry for yourself and he exhales slowly out his nose. He thinks for a bit, and then just stares at you for a while. He think he might even kiss you, but then he speaks. “Lie back.”

You’re happy as a clam when you scoot back on the couch, happy you’re getting some special attention from your step brother. “Oh yeah, all smiles now huh.” He tsks playfully. You lean your back against the armrest, bringing your knees up and spreading your legs just a little. He rubs his hands over his face again in preparation before he turns his body to face you, immediately dropping down his gaze to see the wet patch in your shorts.

“Lord have mercy.” He shakes his head, a hand pressing thoughtlessly to the back of your thigh, spreading you wider. “Whyyyy do you do this to me?” He sighs under his breath, ever so casually pressing a thumb between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the fabric of your shorts. You suck in a breath, and release it with a whimper and his eyes leave your crotch to look at you analytically as you do so. “Jesus, alright. Take these off.” he taps the side of your hip, signalling to your shorts and you wriggle out of them, unsure what to do with them so you clutch them between your hands by your stomach. He swipes them from your hold and throws them over his shoulder, busying himself with slotting a couch cushion under your lower back. “Wont be needing those.”

“JJ, might need them incase someone comes in!” You whine, but he ignores you, stroking your thighs and squishing the dough of them, spreading your legs to witness your glossy, honeyed treasure between them.

“If someone comes in, we’re screwed as it is, shorts aren’t gonna save you.” He murmurs, adjusting himself in his pants, rock hard already. “Show me what you were doin’ and I’ll uh, I’ll try and teach you, yeah.” The blonde tried to keep his voice level, feeling better about himself if he kept this purely educational, just helping you learn your downstairs a little better.

You resist a whine, face already hot in embarrassment from asking. He watches your painted toes curl into the couch cushion, knees knocking together as you suck on your bottom lip shyly. “It’s okay, c’mon pop ‘em open again. Not like I haven’t seen it all before.” He cooes, coaxing you with a hand on your knee. You spread your legs, bringing your fingers to your lips and suckling on the tips, getting them nice and wet. You had to be doing it on purpose, this innocent act wasn’t gonna hold up much longer if you kept staring at him with those sweet doe eyes and pouty lips.

“Started like this…” You lower your fingers with a frustrated pout, dragging them down to your clit and jolting slightly when your fingers brush it, sensitive. JJ practically salivates at the reaction, watching you like a hawk, looming over you. He thinks back to the first time he touched you down there, and you got all choked up because it was too sensitive and you got all overwhelmed, clawing at his hand and saying it was too much. He recalls having to calm you down with kisses and tell you to just relax and let it happen. He’s been with quite a few ladies over time, whether it be at pogue parties, ex flings or FWB’s— none quite as sensitive as you though. None quite lovable as you either. He can’t believe he’s thinking that.

He watches you pant, his coarse fingers stroking your leg whilst you grind away at your clit, focused and letting out sweet little squeaks in response. “Pretty girl, aren’t you? Man, you’re so worth all the trouble.” He speaks quietly, intimately. You felt special when he spoke like this, never a time where JJ isn’t revelling in his bravado, loud and jokey, forever performing to deflect from his issues. You got calm JJ, intimate JJ, your very own.

You were already making a mess of yourself, so it didn’t take long until your fingers were curling down toward your hole, spreading your folds as you pushed them downward. You wasn’t too sure if that was for your pleasure, or for JJ’s view but it made you feel good regardless. You sink a finger in, eyes flitting up to watch your step-brothers reaction, clenching around your single digit when his eyes leave your pussy to look straight into yours. “There y’go.” He hums, and you get to work.

He see’s your frustration around 15 seconds in, when you just can’t get the right angle. You fidget, moving your wrist about, tilting your hips up a little— but after a while all you can do is let out a sad whine, looking to JJ for help. He gives in hilariously fast. “Okay, alright, lemme do it.” But he doesn’t start without gently taking your wrist and bringing your fingers to his mouth, briefly sucking off any remnants of you lingering on your wet fingers. “Real sweet, just like I remember.” He muses, making you trickle out more arousal from the way you clenched around nothing.

His breath catches in his throat when he slides his fingers up and down your folds, spreading them and taking the sight of you in. It wasn’t until you spoke up with a pained “Please!” that he swivelled his hand around, fingers pressing against your wanting hole.

“Lemme in, pretty. Thats it, g’nna need you to relax just a little, yeah?” He pushes a finger in and even then you feel the stretch, much bigger than your finger— and you still weren’t used to it. “Thats my girl.” He lets slip, and his eyes flicker to yours guiltily at the sentiment, only to see your brows pinched and jaw slightly agape, ruined cunt fluttering around his finger. “T’aww.” He cooes quietly, returning his eyes to the task at hand.

He lets the ball of his hand smush to your clit so you can grind on it, and at the feeling your knee jerks up a little, letting out a pleased yelp of surprise. “Shh, shh, shh.” His brow creases, a free hand holding your knee to keep you open. “Just take it baby, there you go.” He was really getting into it now, his pupil swallowing his eye, something darker about the way he stared at you in the dim light of the living room. He slides in another finger, and the coil in your stomach is already starting to tighten.

“A-already g’nna cum soon, Jayj!” You whine and he grins like an old happy dog, the brink of a laugh, wide lipped and toothy.

“Thats the point, right?” He teases, but you don’t take him in, eagerly humping your hips up into his hand, small and needy ‘please!’s spilling from your mouth. “What’ja need? I’m right here, babe.” His free hand strokes your waist now, thumb sliding along your skin to soothe you, possibly keep you quiet and calm.

“Closer.” Your lashes flutter, tears welling beneath them making the dark clusters kiss at the corners, bonded by the shimmering drops threatening to fall. “Want you closer.” You’re looking— no, staring at his mouth and he knows what you want specifically. He doesn’t care anymore, what’s a little kissing between step-siblings? Suppose it doesn’t matter when his fingers are buried into your cunt collecting a pearly ring around his knuckles.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He grits his teeth, fingers going at your more vigorously once he leans over you, simply breathing hot air onto your lips for a moment before pushing his own against yours. You feel the cut on his bottom lip skim yours and instinctively your tongue lulls out to lick it, wanting to taste anything he had to offer. You felt depraved, your shame quickly fleeting as JJ drew you closer to your orgasm. You feel so dirty when you suck on his tongue, just the way he taught you last time, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat. God, you wanted him deep in your throat, wanted to taste him everywhere, devour everything he had to offer. How could you go from a naive young girl who knows nothing of intimacy to this little desperate slut all from a few kisses and JJ’s magic fingers (As he so charmingly named them) You were starting to think it was in you all this time.

“Good girl. Can feel it comin’, just gotta let it go n’relax. M’here now.” He groans into your mouth, fingers brushing that soft gooey spot deep in your core making you cry out. He had to pacify you with more kisses, wondering what it would take to get you over that finish line. He stalls, leaving gentle kisses across your jaw as you mewl, trying to find the right words to say. He knew it was words you needed, preening and practically folding in half for him anytime the blonde directed any praise towards you at all, even as simple as a “Good job!” in a day to day basis.

It was risky, but he thought he’d try something kind of sick. Test the waters a little.

“Gotta stay quiet, baby. Don’t wanna wake up your mom now do you? Probably better off no one sees your big brother helpin’ you get that pretty pussy off, huh?”

You’re clenching so hard it nearly pushes his fingers out. God, you’re both sick.

Just like that, you’re gushing, sweet moans and hiccups swallowed by JJ’s desperate mouth as he silences you by force, letting you ride out that orgasm you so desperately needed. “I know, I know, you’re alright.” He cooes as you do so, dropping kisses in where he can because he know the moment to do so will be gone soon enough, and the guilt will kick in. For now though, he enjoys the moment, enjoys the closeness, and for a second — he can pretend you’re all his, his girl — and not a step-relative. It makes his heart clench.

#anon #jj maybank smut #tw stepcest #stepbro!jj #jj maybank x reader

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skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

05. sharing a bed series ; skz ; han

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 5/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: han jisung/reader content info: dom!reader. sub!jisung. sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. past misunderstandings, grudges, bickering. femdom feat: face slapping, face sitting, hair pulling, choking, riding, denial-n-cumming-anyway, kneeling, more pussy eating. this one is a little longer. teehee :)

“Hey, I hope you had a good flight…”

Chan’s voice message crackles through your phone speaker but you can barely hear him over the bustling airport. You wait until you are outside in the pick-up zone to try listening again. It is marginally quieter out here, cars coming and going, light snowfall brightening the winter night. With your luggage at your feet, you replay his voice mail.

“Hey, I hope you had a good flight. Something came up at work and I’m not gonna be able to pick you up. I’m really sorry ‘bout it, mate. Jisung is on his way to get you. I know, I know, but he’ll get you home, yeah? If you’re still mad tomorrow, I’ll take you to lunch and you can kill me there. Buh-byyeeeee!”

Oh, that son of a bitch.

The message ends just as a pair of headlights flash over you. You can see through the front window but despite the direct eye contact Jisung still feels the need the honk the horn not once, not twice, but three times.

You stand there with your arms hanging helplessly at your sides. Snow falls on your head and a frown darkens your whole face. Jisung just smiles and waves like an idiot, honking the horn again.

I am going to kill Chan, you think to yourself.

Jisung loves putting you in situations where you are the unrepentant supervillain of his life, so ignoring him and getting in a cab would just play into his horrible little hands. He might look unassuming in his puffy coat and backwards cap, might look soft and friendly with his fair hair and plushy pink smile, might look innocent with his big brown eyes peering at you with cartoonishly saccharine enthusiasm, but in reality none of that is true.

Han Jisung is the worst.

Han Jisung is your nemesis.

Han Jisung honks the horn again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shout. You roll your eyes and heft your luggage over your shoulder, stomping with an incredible degree of petulance for a woman of your age. You toss your bag in the trunk then slide into the passenger seat.

Jisung honks again.

“Hello, hello, welcome to Flight H.A.N with Jisung airlines, this is your pilot speaking—”

You turn on the radio to shut him up. You are not in the mood for his shenanigans.

Jisung cringes with theatrical chagrin.

“Yikes,” he says with a bubbly laugh. “Tough crowd.”

“Just drive.”

“Yes, mistress, right away, mistress, Jisung lives to serve his mistress, please don’t hurt Jisung or leave him out in the cold tonight—”

You thunk your head against the headrest, glaring ahead as Jisung smoothly joins the traffic flow despite his nonsensical rambling.

You vaguely remember a time when Jisung was shy, back before he made it his life mission to send you hurtling into an annoyance-induced death. You also vaguely remember a time you liked him, him and his quietness, him and his quirky humour, him and his big, stupid, brown eyes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Jisung sings along with the radio so you flip the station to one with talking. He strums his fingers on the steering wheel, lips pursed and eyebrows lifted. He casts you a few side glances that you pointedly ignore. When you see him open his mouth, you hold up a finger.

“Do not even think about it,” you say. “Whatever you were about to say or do… Don’t.”

He presses his lips together and makes an obnoxiously loud pop.

“Kk,” he says. “This should be a fun half hour.”

The airport is outside of the city, a half-hour drive to your downtown apartment. Usually. The weather has traffic horrifically backed up. Half an hour comes and goes and you are barely out of view of the airport.

“We could play a game,” Jisung says, looking at you sideways. “I spy with my little—”

“Nope.”

“Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.” He nods, strumming the steering wheel again.

The radio blathers on, you barely listening. You scroll through your phone until there are zero notifications, then you scroll through your photo album just for something to look at. Jisung hums to himself and you try not to get annoyed all over again. You exploding at something so inconsequential would give him way too much satisfaction.

The snow comes down harder. It pulls your attention from your phone to the blustery world outside. Everything is a harsh grey, the dark night foggily illuminated by the white snow. Even Jisung is concentrating now, his brow furrowed as he stares through the front window.

“Shit,” he says.

He changes stations to catch a road update. Your jaws drop in unison when the reporter mentions a thirteen hour delay on the main bridge into the city.

“Thirteen fucking hours?” you say. It comes out wheezy. “It’s winter! Why are they always so surprised by the fucking snow! God! What the hell are we gonna do?”

“We’re not going anywhere near the bridge, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Jisung says, flipping the car into reverse and immediately changing course.

“How else are we getting downtown?”

He looks at you like you’re so stupid that he can’t believe it, his eyebrows jumping up his face.

“Uh, hello, welcome back to town, it’s snowing here,” Jisung says. “We’re going downtown tomorrow when it won’t kill us or trap us in a car—”

“I want to go home—”

“Do you want to spend thirteen hours in a car with me?” Jisung asks. “Because that’s what going home will involve right now, k?”

He sounds terse. You feel a little better when he acts short with you too, more justified in your own rudeness.

“Fine,” you say. “What are we doing then?”

A ten minute trip turns into an hour long drive with traffic delays, but eventually you are rolling into the snow-covered parking lot of the only motel with a vacancy sign. You and Jisung do not speak, stepping out of the car and crunching along the snow in silence. The motel parking lot is washed a golden colour, the yellow balcony lights beaming over the white snow. It holds the promise of warmth. You hurry inside.

You shake yourself off in the tiny entryway while Jisung dings the desk bell. Someone appears to check you in.

“You’re a lucky couple,” she says. “Lots of folks have stopped because of the weather. We have exactly one room left available. It’s a nice cozy double bed. Sounds good?”

“Ummm…” You join Jisung at the desk, a million frantic thoughts running through your brain. “Hold on, we’re not—”

“Did you hear that, baby?” Jisung says with exaggerated fondness, because he can’t help but taunt you. “We’re a lucky couple. Isn’t that just our luck the only room available has one bed?”

You step on his foot deliberately and he yelps.

“Is there really no other option?” you ask the attendant with some degree of desperation.

“No, sorry.” She gives you a funny look but shakes her head. “I doubt you’ll have better luck finding a room anywhere else tonight. You can have this one or enjoy a car nap.”

“My beautiful wife and I are happy with a double,” Jisung says, already holding out his credit card. “Right, baby?”

You smack his ass, hard and swift. His eyes widen. You smirk.

“Right, baby,” you say with a snarl.

Tonight’s only saving grace is the hot water; you enjoy a long shower before changing into sleep shorts and a camisole. You join Jisung in the room, finding him sprawled on the double bed with air pods in his ears. He tossed his hat somewhere and is laying there in jeans and a t-shirt – remarkable, as you thought he might strip to his underwear just to be annoying. But no, he lays there peacefully. His fair hair is darker at the root, neatly framing his unfortunately handsome face. He has one arm flexed under his head, the muscle more pronounced than you remember it being. His eyes are closed as he nods along to the music.

You grab a pillow and thwack him in the gut. It startles him to attention, a strangled sound leaving his throat.

“You stay on that side of the bed and you do not move, got it?” you say.

He sticks his tongue out at you.

“Very mature,” you say.

You lay down with your back to him. After twenty minutes, he still has his bedside light on so you snap at him. He whines like a little baby but turns it off, leaving just his phone beaming at his face. You can hear his music but say nothing.

You can’t sleep. You want to roll over but you absolutely refuse to face him.

His phone screen finally goes dark after god knows how long and he puts it aside. There is a long stretch of silence in the dark. You swear you have never been so uncomfortable laying on this side in all your life. Knowing you will not be able to sleep without turning at least once, you decide to roll over. You figure Jisung laid down with his back to you anyway.

He didn’t. He is staring right at you, his big eyes making him look like a pathetic little lemur gawping at a human in the dark.

“Why don’t you like me?” Jisung says.

“Oh no,” you say, immediately rolling onto your back. “Absolutely not. We are not having a heart to heart.”

“Oh come oooon, please,” he whines. “This is the time and place—”

“It really isn’t—”

“It’s a classic story, a boy, and a girl—”

“I don’t like stories—”

“Forced to share a bed and share their secret feelings—”

“Those feelings are disgust, hatred, and revulsion—”

“Opening their hearts and—whoa, wait, what? Hatred? You hate me?” Jisung pushes himself up on one elbow, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face.

You try to ignore him and his stupid expressions, glaring at the ceiling as if it can do anything to save you. Your heart is beating fast but it doesn’t feel good. The pounding is coupled with a nauseous turn in your gut.

It is open knowledge that you do not like Han Jisung one bit, but you seldom vocalize it so explicitly. Certainly not to his face. Certainly not beside him in bed.

“That can’t possibly surprise you,” you say.

“Well, it does actually!” Jisung says. “I knew you didn’t like me but hate me? How could you hate me? I’m delightful.”

Even now, the clown is trying to joke. Because that’s all it is to him, isn’t it? Everything is just a joke all the time. Everything and everyone is a punchline waiting to happen. But you aren’t laughing. Your hands close into fists and you dig your nails into your palms to keep your frustration in check. Your neck feels hot and your stomach is still turning. You feel embarrassed about things you haven’t even said yet. Your tongue feels swollen somehow, your throat lined thickly. It takes several deep breaths before you can speak.

“Well,” you say bitterly, “I guess I just can’t help being a massive bitch. The worst you’ve ever met, right?”

There is a beat of silence, then Jisung flips on the bedside light.

You slap your fists down on the bedcovers and glare at him.

“Turn off the light,” you say.

“No way, you were just talking in a voice. What did you mean? Why do you--”

“Jisung, I swear to god, if you don’t turn off that light—”

“Look, can we just—”

You shove the covers down and climb on top of him without thinking, trying to reach the light yourself. He grabs you by the arms and pushes you back. You end up tussling ungracefully, you wriggling around like a worm and Jisung clearly in control but just as clearly trying to go easy on you. It puts you at an impasse. With an angry huff, you push away from him.

“If I said something—” he starts.

You laugh, a joyless cackle.

“If,” you repeat. “You’ve said a lot of somethings over the years, Jisung.”

“I—I didn’t mean it if I—I don’t even know what I—”

You look at him. He seems to be genuinely confounded and more than a little miserable, his eyes darting around as he racks his brain, his brow furrowed with obvious upset. His hand is frozen on his head, a clump of hair feathering through his fingers.

He meets your gaze and you roll your eyes. You feel hot and uncomfortable again, the source of your nausea climbing up and up and up until it is clawing its way past your lips and—

“The day we met,” you say, finally, after years of stamping down the humiliating memory, “you said I was a massive bitch, the worst you had ever met. And it—”

You are not sad. You refuse to be sad. This pain is years old now and it does not hurt you anymore. But you are angry – with him, with yourself, with this whole shitty circumstance, and the angrier you get, the more tears stab at your eyes.

You swallow down a lump in your throat and take a steadying breath. You stare at the wall because his attentive, earnest gaze is too much to bear.

“I know I’m a little awkward when I first meet people,” you say. “I’m shy and weird and sometimes… sometimes people think I’m a bitch when really I’m just quiet. Chan introduced me to you because he said that you were kinda the same, and that we had lots in common, and he thought we would get along. And then we met and—”

“We did,” Jisung says softly.

Your vision is blurry now. You sniff hard, wiping your arm under your nose.

“Yes,” you say. “We did. We got along amazing. We were quiet for a second and then it was like… like we were already friends. As if we always knew each other. I’ve never spoken like that to someone so quickly. It’s like I just forgot to be shy. I was so happy and then—”

“I remember all this,” Jisung says, still sounding confused. “I don’t get it. It was Changbin’s birthday, right? We were talking all night and it was great but then you just left without saying bye. Then the next time we met you already hated me—”

You finally look at him, hitting him with the full force of your emotional expression. He clearly was not expecting the tears because he literally jumps at the sight of you.

“I left after overhearing you talk about me in the kitchen to one of your stupid friends,” you snap. “’That woman is without doubt a totally massive bitch. The worst I’ve ever met.’ And you were laughing. Just… just standing there laughing about it, about me. And I had no idea why. Why? What had I said or done? It was humiliating. And it hurt, and the reason it hurt so bad was because it came from you.” You jab him in the chest, trying to sound angry because your tears are falling now and it just makes you feel pathetic. “It hurt, Jisung,” you say, “because it was you. From anyone else I wouldn’t care. But you were the one person I expected to understand me. The one person who got what it was like. So to hear you saying those things—god. I never wanted to see you again, but then you and Chan started your stupid projects together and I couldn’t get away from you. And you just got more and more in my face no matter what I did—”

“Oh my god.” Jisung slaps both hands to his head. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he is hearing. “Hold on,” he says, abruptly getting out of bed. “Just… just hold on.”

He runs away. You sit there more confused than anything, your face wet, your breathing uneven. He is gone long enough for you to get angry again, glaring at him when he gets back in the bed.

“Here,” he says, giving you the tissue box he evidently retrieved from the bathroom. “Just… here.”

He takes a tissue and awkwardly dabs at your cheek. You snatch it away from him, frowning.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. He gets off the bed again, hovering awkwardly at the side while you wipe your face clean. He waits until you are composed, swaying where he stands, clasping and unclasping his hands. When you stop sniffling, he lets out a huge exhale. “Okay,” he says. “Look. I’m sorry. I’m… I’m really, really fucking sorry. And I want to explain, I really do, but… but if I explain, I think it’s only gonna make you upset.”

You give him a very sarcastic look.

“I’m already upset, you stupid jerk,” you say. “Just spit it out so I can go to sleep.”

“Right.” He runs his hand through his hair again. It falls softly down and flutters when he exhales. “God. Okay. This is gonna sound so stupid. But, yeah, okay, I do remember saying that actually. I didn’t know you heard me but… but that’s not an excuse. I know. I shouldn’t have said it at all. I totally do know that. But also… I said it, but I didn’t. What I mean is, what you heard me saying, I was not actually saying.”

You stare at him for a long moment.

“What,” you say, “the fuck?”

He waves his hands around defensively.

“What I mean is,” he says, “and stay with me… but… I actually meant it as a compliment.”

“A compliment,” you say. “A compliment? You called me a massive bitch as a compliment?”

“Yes.”

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?” you shout, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at him.

His reflexes are fast. He ducks and the pillow sails over his head, whacking the blinds with a clatter. He looks there then looks at you, just in time for you to throw the tissue box. He dodges that too, ducking down again. The box hits the radiator and thunks to the ground.

“Okay, listen—” he says.

He is not fast enough when you chuck the second pillow.

“Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he says, holding the offending pillow up in surrender. He tentatively approaches the bed with it, eying you as he gently lays it back down.

You glare.

“I promise I can explain,” he says. “And you’re gonna love this explanation, because it is going to completely and totally humiliate me and you will have something to hold over my head for the rest of your life.”

“I’m listening,” you say. You feel embarrassed about crying so the least he can do is embarrass himself too.

“Thank you,” he says. He gets back on the bed, kneeling and tipping his head back. It looks like he’s praying, gathering the strength to admit whatever he is about to admit.

You cross your arms. You are annoyed he is taking so long and also annoyed that you genuinely want to know. Han Jisung has no problem blurting every stupid thought that crosses his mind, at least when it comes to you, so you cannot begin to imagine what dark secret he can’t bring himself to speak out loud.

You are halfway convinced he is trying to come up with a lie when he finally throws his arms out as if in supplication.

“I’m a fucking freak!” he says, with all the verve and jubilation of hallelujah. He closes his eyes and nods his head. “I’m a pervert and I think with my dick like ninety-eight per cent of the time. The other two per cent of the time I am honestly probably thinking with my prostate, though I haven’t really worked that one out yet completely—”

“What?” Your whole face screws tight with bewilderment. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I love bitches. No wait.” He shakes his head. “That came out wrong. Hold on. I love… well, yeah, no, bitches. Mean girls. Bullies. Catwoman.”

“Catwoman.”

“That whip… t-cha.”

“Jisung—”

“Look I was telling my friend about you because Minho’s an even bigger freak than me. He’s the only one who knows my secret and—”

“Your secret,” you say slowly. “That you… like bitches?”

“That I love bitches,” he says. “When I told him that you were the biggest bitch I ever met, it was because we both knew that what I meant was: holy shit dude, I just found my soulmate, she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, I’m getting married tonight, and if she asked me to tattoo her face on my butt right now I would do it.”

You hate that you laugh, but the comment is so unexpected that it sputters out of you.

Jisung smiles, releasing a pent-up breath of relief.

“You were… are… funny, and smart, and yeah a bit quiet but you still don’t let it stop you from defending yourself or someone else when something is wrong. Remember when you told off that creep at the party? The one who was bugging Felix? You don’t take anyone’s shit and then you just move on quietly like it was nothing. I was obsessed with you from the second we started talking. Then I was a stupid horny pervert and opened my big stupid mouth and now you hate me.”

“I’m still not sure I really get it,” you say, admittedly flustered at his admission. You had no idea Jisung saw you that way. The woman he’s describing does sound pretty amazing, and he sounds sincerely infatuated. When your heart starts skipping beats again, it feels different than before. “Explain,” you say.

He slaps his thighs in a motion of surrender.

“Yup,” he says. “Okay. Fine. Cool. I like when women boss me around. I like when they are mean to me. I like when they hurt me and make me cry. It… it gets my dick hard, okay? I love bitches. I LOVE BITCHES—”

You reach out to slap a hand over his mouth, remembering it’s a motel in the middle of the night.

Jisung’s shoulders jump and he laughs into your hand, clearly embarrassed as he remembers where he is. You laugh in spite of yourself, lowering your hand.

“Oops,” he says.

“Oops,” you reply.

Oops, you misunderstood your eavesdropping.

Oops, Jisung never hated you.

Oops, you find yourself staring into his eyes for way too long.

“So just to clarify,” you say. “You’re into, like, female domination stuff, and you called me a bitch as the highest form of compliment in your crazy brain, and then you spent the next two years being as annoying as possible because…”

“I thought you were just, like, crazy edging me or something,” Jisung says, making you laugh helplessly into your hands. He laughs too, even while looking a little pained. “I did! I was like shit, she’s so nasty, she’s really taking me for a fucking ride. I would have kept doing this for the rest of our lives if this conversation didn’t happen. I would’ve been at your wedding like damn, she’s really got me going this time—”

“You’re so stupid,” you say, pushing at his chest without any real animosity.

“I know, I really am,” he says. He draws an X over his chest. “But cross my heart and hope to die, everything I have told you is the complete truth. I’d tell you to slap me because you definitely deserve it but honestly, it would give me a boner and I don’t think either of us wants that since we’re stuck in the same bed all night.”

He says it jokingly, of course. But you can hear the twinge of flirtation and truth under his just kidding.

And maybe you’re still on an adrenaline kick. Maybe your emotions are right at the surface. Maybe you hated him so much because deep down you liked him, and you hated that you liked him because of a misunderstanding.

And maybe, just maybe, those big brown eyes have drawn you in from the second you first saw him.

“Slap you,” you say, as if in deep contemplation. “Slap you where? Your face?”

This clearly catches him off guard. He opens his mouth and a garbled sound comes out. He thumps a fist on his chest.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Sure. Whatever, you know. You know.”

“Mhm.” You move so you are kneeling too, facing each other. You watch as he swallows hard, the gulp going down his throat. All the adrenaline you built up earlier is suffusing into the race of your bloodstream. Heat simmers below the surface of your skin. “And you like that? Getting slapped when you’ve been bad?”

“Oh my god,” he says. “Are you.. are we… is something happening right now? Oh my god. Hold on.” He says that but then all he does is stand up and sit back down again, rekneeling in the exact same position. “Right, okay,” he says. “Slap away.”

You snort, rolling your eyes but smiling. You lift your hand but he is staring at you so expectantly that it just feels weird, not sexy, and you laugh giddily with amusement.

“Aww, come oooon,” he whines, but laughingly too. “Don’t get shy. You were so good at it.”

“I’ve had years of bitchy practice, I guess,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, making him grin. You shake your head. “I dunno. Just. Do something to earn a slap I guess. It’s too weird to just smack you out of nowhere.”

“Do something?” he asks. “Uh, I dunno. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never done anything in my life to earn a slap. I’m seriously the most charming and funny and perfect guy ever and I—”

Your slap him across the face. The sound startles you because it sounds harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Jisung looks genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, his jaw falling open. He blinks himself back into focus and you are about to ask if he’s all right, then he looks at you in a way he has never looked at you before. The desire and desperation of his gaze moves right through you, gathering hot in every intimate place.

“Did you like that?” he asks, his voice a little gravelly as it drops low.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. You reach out to touch his chin, a delicate touch that makes him shiver. You turn his face to look at the faint redness on his cheek. “Can I try again to be sure?”

He nods and swallows again.

You don’t ask for build-up this time. You pull your hand back and bring it down sharply on his cheek.

This time it makes him whimper. It flushes you with heat.

“Oh my god,” you say. “What else?”

“Uh, oh, fuck, um.” He touches his cheek and sucks in a breath. He pushes his hair only for it flop back in place. “Um,” he says. “Choking. F-fingers? Fingers in my mouth... Um, haha, I can’t think. Bondage? Yeah. Erm, denial. Overstimulation. Puuussy… yes, um, pussy. On my face please. Uhh… Punishment. Pulling my hair… Oh, hello.”

You take hold of his shoulders and push, guiding him to lay on his back. He is already panting when you straddle him, his eyes wide when you lean down.

“Do you still hate me?” he asks when you are millimetres away from his mouth.

You pretend to think about it.

“Hm,” you say with obvious theatricality, stealing a page from his book. “Yeah. I hate you so much. You’re my worst enemy. Sorry, baby.”

“That’s hot,” he says with a nervous little giggle. “You’re hot. You know I think—mmmf.”

You interrupt whatever long-winded joke was incoming. He does not protest this interruption as it involves a kiss, a good kiss, a deep kiss, one that pushes his head into the plushness of his pillow, one that has him moaning into your mouth. He lifts his hands to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your bare thighs when you seize his wrists. You shove them into the bed, pinned on either side of his head. He bucks under you, his mouth opening under your kiss. You bite at his bottom lip and drag your teeth, making his hips move even more.

You break away quickly and just as quickly slap him. It knocks a surprised breath out of him, his eyes a bit watery when he looks up at you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” you say. “I’m just getting started.”

“Oh my god.”

You try not to smile but Jisung makes it hard. You feel flushed with excitement, hot with power and anticipation. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and push the hem of his shirt up and over his chest. He whimpers again but doesn’t move, his eyes closing when you hold down his wrists and duck your head.

“Fuck, oh god,” he murmurs, a constant stream of mumbled expletives as your mouth runs over his chest, kissing and licking and biting, teasing him until he can’t help but buck his hips for friction. When you feel him fully hard in his jeans you lean back, smirk, then climb off him. “Oh god, you’re too good at this,” he says, keeping his hands where you left them and gazing at you with wanting eyes.

You blow him a kiss and shimmy out of your shorts and underwear. Thoughtlessly he swings a hand down to touch himself, squeezing his dick through his jeans and groaning.

“Did I tell you that you could—” you start, but he puts his hand back beside his head before you can finish. His smile is far too innocent. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you say.

“Am I?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” you reply, getting back on top of him. “I still hate you.”

“Oh god, yes,” he says. His hips buck into the air as you scoot over his chest. “More.”

“I hate you,” you say, moving until your legs are on either side of his head. “ I hate you so much, Han Jisung. I’m going to ruin you.”

“Fuck.”

He already has his mouth open when you lower onto his face. You grip the headboard and rock yourself over his tongue, back and forth until he finds your rhythm and takes over. What he lacks in precision he compensates with eagerness, licking at you without any care for the mess it makes of him, wet and sloppy and hot as his tongue moves inside you then up and down your pussy, circling your clit, sucking, flicking, back and forth, around and around—

“Oh my god,” you say, looking down at where you can see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he works, as he moans, as he squeezes your thighs in his hands and drags his tongue all over you. You grip the headboard tight when you come, throwing your head back and grinding down against him.

You lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs. You shuffle back and sit on his abdomen so you can see him, his eyes wide and wet mouth open as he pants. He licks his lips and murmurs please, please, please in a hoarse voice.

“Please?” you repeat, a little out of breath as well.

You swirl your fingers over his bare chest and fiddle with the t-shirt still bunched under his chin. He moves his face wherever you push it, tipping his head back, tilting it to the side. He goes cross-eyed when your fingers dance in front of him, touching his lips. His mouth falls open and his eyes close when you slide two fingers inside his mouth.

“Please what, Jisung?” you ask, slowly finger-fucking his mouth. “What do you want?”

He can’t speak around your fingers so he just whines, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs.

“Oh,” you say. Your giggle is filled with genuine delight, even while your voice is rough. “I see. You want to put your dick inside me, baby? Hmm? You wanna say you’re sorry and that you’ll be good and let me ride you?”

“Good, so good,” he says, drooling around your fingers when you slide them out. He swallows hard, choking on nothing, then nods his head. “Please, please. Yes.”

You lean down and kiss his wet mouth, a chaste peck. You rub the corner of his lips, smiling at his closed eyes and wrecked expression.

“Okay,” you say. “Get ready for me then.”

You have a string of condoms in your luggage, always tucked in the pocket in case of emergency. Emergencies like a snow storm trapping you in bed with your former worst enemy turned lover.

When you get back to him, Jisung is laying there completely naked, flushed and stroking himself as he watches you. He lets you take his hand off his dick, holds you obediently when you guide his hands to your waist. He kisses you when you lean down, a hot and heavy kiss as you straddle him again. It ends when you push him flat and sit back, already grinning because you know you are about to short-circuit his brain.

“Wanna see a trick?” you say, and proceed to put the condom on him with your mouth. You laugh when you see his face after, his mouth hanging open as he blinks at you.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, but laughs a little.

His head thunks back into the pillows when you guide him inside you. You put your hands over his, holding them to your hips as you rock over him. His chest lifts and falls and his eyes close as he concentrates on not rushing your pace. He keeps holding your waist firmly when you slide your hands over his chest.

“Look at me,” you say.

He blinks his eyes open. You smile.

“Good boy.”

He makes a noise that sounds more pained than when you slapped him. It lights up inside you like fire and you move faster, take him deeper. You get a bit dizzy with how good it feels, his dick curving up to drive against the softest, most sensitive part of you, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm. You rub yourself at the same time, looking down at him as he gasps and moans, as he holds your hips and fucks you back.

You bring your hand to his neck and gently circle it, rubbing yourself harder when he whines with chest-deep desperation.

“I—I’m gonna—oh god—” he says, squeezing your hips so tightly that you think it might bruise.

It feels so good, his rough hands coupled with his dick hitting perfectly inside you. Your whole body draws taut for its crest.

“Don’t,” you say, laughing a little, not even to be mean but because it feels so good that you feel giddy. You squeeze his throat and his hips get erratic under you. “Not yet,” you say. “Me first.”

“Oh my god,” he says, looking up at you with frantic eyes. “I—I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“Jisung,” you say, squeezing his throat harder so he makes a choked-up sound that goes straight to your pussy. “Are you gonna be good or bad?”

“I’m—I’m—oh god.”

You stop touching yourself because you know he doesn’t stand a chance outlasting you. You ride him through his orgasm, choking him as he spasms and moans and cries out. His head lifts for a second, his eyes closed and brows furrowed, then he flops back down with an exhausted heave.

His eyes open again, watery and huge.

“Oh fuck,” he says, voice like gravel as you release his throat. A deep breath shudders out of him. “Oh… fuck,” he says, dreamily, smiling, then pouting. “Oh! Fuck!”

You giggle at him managing to say the same thing in three different voices.

You slip your fingers into his hair and tug, yanking his head up. He follows with a gasp.

“I should hit you again for that,” you say.

You slide off him, carefully. He sucks in a ragged, tearful breath when you touch his dick to deal with the condom. After, you rub your palm on the oversensitive head of it, making him grab at you and cry out. It squeezes a tear out of him and you kiss it away.

“Come on,” you say, grabbing him by the hair again. You get off the bed and drag him to follow. “I’m not done with you.”

He is a little shaky and boneless from coming. His footing is unsteady from the moment he touches the ground, moving with thoughtless obedience. He thumps down heavily onto his knees. When he sways, you straighten him. He blinks up at you, on his knees, already nodding.

You put your leg over his shoulder and draw him in. For the second time, he gets you off with his mouth, his hands on your ass and his face buried in your pussy. You sink your fingers in his hair and let it wash over you, humming happily when you are finished.

You lower your leg off his shoulder. Jisung slumps backwards, leaning against the bed and breathing hard, his face and hair a mess.

“Wow,” he says. He looks up at you. “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You laugh, feeling hot and flushed but satisfied.

“Me too,” you say, making him smile.

You help him back into the bed because his legs seem a little numb. You lay beside him, rubbing the inside of his thigh as he kisses all over your face. You giggle then fall into a proper kiss, winding around each other affectionately.

“I’m gonna send Chan a gift basket,” Jisung says, making you snort. “I am! Thank you for having a family emergency, your timing couldn’t be better.”

You tip your head and look at him with confusion.

“Family emergency?” you say. “He told me he was working?”

“Working?” Jisung furrows his brow. “Huh? We don’t have anything coming up at work. He phoned me from the road and said he was heading out to visit family? He said he wouldn’t be back all week-end.”

“He told me he was stuck working and would see me tomorrow,” you say, your eyes narrowing as you slowly put two-and-two and together.

“I didn’t even know why he was asking me and not Changbin or something,” Jisung continues to muse aloud. “He said you were wanting to talk to me, though, so I figured—”

“I never said that! I mean, I’m glad we did but…” You sit up, glaring at the wall.

Jisung bursts into laughter, covering his mouth as he looks at you.

“Did Chan hustle us?” he asks.

“He threw us together in a snow storm so we’d be forced to reconcile!”

“I don’t think Chan can control the weather—”

“Oh, he definitely can. I bet he delayed the bridge himself—”

Jisung laughs some more, kissing the side of your face lovingly while you continue to glare contemptuously at the wall.

“Well,” you say, looking at him. You kiss him sweetly on the nose and he smiles at you. “That’s fine,” you say. “A vacancy for my sworn enemy just opened up. Looks like I found a replacement.”

“I’m good with that,” Jisung says. “But… you’re not allowed to enemy-fuck him like that. That’s just for me, right?”

You settle in his arms, forgetting about Chan for the time being, forgetting to glare, forgetting about everything that happened before tonight. You smile at him, brushing a bit of hair off his sweaty forehead. He is still flushed and beautiful, his hopeful eyes locked on yours. He smiles back.

“Yeah,” you say. “It’s only ever been just you, Jisung.”

He visibly melts, his laugh a breathless thing. He leans in and kisses you and you hold his face, kissing him back. You can feel him smiling against your lips and you smile too.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung x dom!reader #sub!jisung x dom!reader #skz x reader #sub!skz x dom!reader

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beomie3 · 7 months

Text

fangs - c.sb

bf!soobin x fem!reader

summary — the proper way of doing your boyfriend's vampire makeup for a costume party is straddling him, of course <3 + the hickeys you left on his neck are only part of the costume, right?

wc — 2.1k

content — established relationship, smut, you both love marking one another <3 rough make out, unprotected sex, cursing, you do soobin’s eyeliner hehe

♫ fangs - matt champion

✩ this is fic 2/5 of my halloween spooky series!

"bin- we only have an hour," you're slightly out of breath as you try to inform your boyfriend of the time in between heavy kisses. he has you pinned against your wardrobe as you two were in the midst of getting ready for a halloween costume party that started in about an hour.

you still had to do his eye makeup but you just couldn't resist him with how sexy he looked in his sharp black suit; black tie snug to his neck, tight dress pants hugging his legs so perfectly. faux vampire fangs slightly poking the plush of his bottom lip. how could you resist?

you tugged his tie gently to pull him closer, walking forward while he blindly walked backward to sit in your vanity's chair when you lightly pushed him down into it.

his chin was about to your chest with how tall he was still whilst sitting down, darkened eyes staring up at you and what felt nearly pierced your soul.

"close your eyes for me," you lightly swiped your hand over his eyelids as you bit the eyeliner cap off and held it between your teeth, tilting his chin up with your free hand.

his legs were spread irresistibly as you stood in between them, tongue pressing into his own cheek with a subtle smirk growing on his lips. you just knew he wanted you and you wanted him just as bad. if it weren't for the time crunch, the two of you would probably be tangled in the sheets. but that wasn't to think about now, was it?

you ran the pencil along his lash line, gently smudging it around with your fingers, stopping to admire just how beautiful he looked in this lighting; jet black hair messily gelled back revealing his pretty eyebrows, supple skin, the soft and sharp contrasts of his facial structure.

"open," his eyes fluttered at the command of your voice, more intense now that they were sexily smudged with eyeliner. you then ran some in his waterline, his eyes never leaving yours. he loved observing you at work, finding your concentration utterly admirable. you stepped back after you had finished, absolutely head over heels.

now, this was it. holy shit. you knew your boyfriend was sexy as hell already but- his eyes lined and smudged effortlessly and dark left you with your lip between your teeth. he was irresistible.

"how do i look?" his voice was low, smoky gaze penetrating yours. how does he look? what kind of question is that? you bit your cheek, a glint in your eyes that undressed him where he sat. it wasn't until he skimmed his long fingers up your thigh that a certain buzz ignited your skin, tickling your core in a dangerous way. the party started in forty-five minutes. fuck it.

you had no words except the small moan that left your throat when you crashed your lips to his passionately, his large hands helping you to straddle his lap and snaking them around the small of your back to keep you there.

"you look so handsome," you whisper into his ear, sending chills up his spine at the warmth of your breath down his neck, turning him on infinitely. you kissed down his neck, stopping for several moments to decorate the soft skin with red marks that you knew he loved receiving. you began loosening his tie, enough to unbutton his white button-up, smoothing your hand over his exposed chest; a perfect canvas for kissing and licking all over.

your red lipstick left lip-shaped imprints all over the contours of his pecks, something he found so hot; he just wanted your kisses all over his body. attaching your lips to his neck, you sucked and bit at the skin, decorating him with your art.

happy with your purple and red splotches on his neck and chest, it was his turn. skimming his nose against your jaw, you angled your head to give him access to your neck; warm and supple for him to suck the life out of it. dragging the tip of his tongue across your neck, you shivered, tangling your fingers in the loose hair at the nape of his neck when he began suckling at the skin, soft and wet lips addicting against your sensitive flesh.

although, this time it was more intense with the dull ache of his fangs against your skin, turning you on in a way you couldn't even begin to explain. boy, would people know he's yours and you're his at the party. your matching vampire costumes would make sense now, with the red splotch and bites across your necks which emulate a vampire bite from one another <3

his hard-on was no secret as it prodded your wetness against your panties. luckily, that was all you were wearing under your black mini-skirt. you began to grind against the firmness in his pants, whimpering as it perfectly soothed your aching clit, tingles darting up and into your stomach.

he groaned against your neck, guiding your hips with a firm grip. you were pushing him nearly over the edge with your pretty noises in his ear; oh, soobin~ you're so sexy. and so hard, all for me? he could nearly explode at any moment. he needed you, bad.

that's it. suddenly, he groaned, picking you up swiftly and carrying you to the door of your bedroom as it was directly ahead, pressing your back against it as you wrapped your legs tightly around his hips. sharp black stiletto heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

he cursed under his breath as he held you against the cold wood of the door, the plush of your thighs becoming revealed under your skirt as the material was pushed up to your waist, his eyes darkening more and more as he looked your body up and down like it was a fucking buffet.

"soobin, baby..." you ran your fingers down his exposed chest, then returned them to his face, swiping your thumb over his lips. "...fuck me."

your tongue across his bottom lip was all he needed to be completely set over the edge, holding you up against the door with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other, his sleek pants dropping to the floor in an instant. the ironed dress shirt he tucked in so perfectly an hour ago was long forgotten about at this moment, everything leaving his mind. it was just you.

using a finger to hook your soaked panties aside, he looked you dead in the eye. a hungry, no, starved look prevalent within them. you smirked, seeing him so hot and desperate for you all had you almost moaning at the sight.

"like this?" he groaned lowly against your lips, slurring his words as he slowly pushed himself into you. his dick stretched you so good, so hard and curling up to kiss your g-spot at the perfect angle. you threw your head back into the door, only his name and yes yes yes to escape your lips repeatedly, so drunk on his cock already.

"mhmm?" he pressed kisses over the bruising hickeys on your neck, his hips rutting against yours slowly yet intensely, each thrust causing a thud at the door with his strength. he didn't give you much time to adjust to him because he knew you could take him. your pussy was just molded for him <3

"fuck soobin, fuck!" tears pricked your eyes as he rutted his hips against yours so harshly, fucking you so good you couldn't even think straight. nothing but the sound of both of your whimpers harmonizing, the slick sounds of him entering you repeatedly, the slapping of his full thighs against your ass, the thudding at the door with every thrust. he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved getting to watch your chest bounce against his at this angle, nipples poking through the thin silk of your top. he groaned at the sight, leaning down to help one strap off at a time with his teeth to free your tits. he pressed his lips to your collarbones, leaving even more marks behind.

an hour ago, you thought the two of you would be in the car by now, making your merry way to the costume party in your matching costumes. but no, here you were, getting absolutely fucked out of your mind; suspended against your bedroom door, getting handled in any way your boyfriend pleased. but you loved it. you loved everything he did to you.

even so that he now had you bent over the counter of your vanity, staring at each other's reflection in the large lit mirror. tight skirt pulled over your hips, his large hands holding you firmly in place as he pounded into you from behind, squeezing the plush of your ass.

everything about his reflection in the mirror was drop-dead gorgeous; the sweat beading on his forehead, your red lipstick smeared all over his mouth, neck, and chest. the depth of his smoky eyes piercing yours as he absolutely ruined you.

your legs were shaking in your high heels, nearly giving out but he firmly held you there, leaning over you to press kisses to your shoulder blades, exposed through the dainty straps of your silky top that hung lazily off of your shoulders.

"wanna come for me, beautiful?" he whispered into your ear from behind, reaching around to rub circles into your clit, causing you to clench and flutter around his fullness. he buried his face in your hair at the sensation, deep moans and whimpers exiting his mouth. the sound so pretty and lewd and pushing you right to the edge.

all you could do was desperately nod at him through the mirror, a familiar tickle at your core that only needed one more thrust to send you spiraling into white-hot pleasure. with one final thrust, the deepest one yet, you were moaning his name like it was a prayer, his eyes fixed intensely on yours, so satisfied to watch your face contort in pleasure.

your orgasmic pulsations around his cock was enough to have him spurting hot cum inside of you, thrusting it deep inside of you and watching as some leaked out and dripped onto the floor.

"holy fuuck," he cursed in your ear at the intensity of your orgasms, hot breath spreading across your neck that was covered in sweat, his thrusts slowing as you both rode out your highs, catching your breath before he pulled out of you.

your arms and legs were dead tired as they had held you up against the table the entire time, almost giving out but he spun you around and held you tightly against his chest, pressing kisses to your lips and neck, trailing his hands softly all over your body as to show his gratitude. he carried you to the bathroom bridal style and helped clean you up, oh SHIT coming from behind the bathroom door when you both realized the party was five minutes away from staring.

you hastily helped clean him up as well and returned to the vanity where you stared at one another's reflections. you couldn't help but laugh; the two of you were a fucking mess.

but to be honest, you both looked a lot more like vampires than what your original costumes even called for, and a lot sexier too; faces shimmery under the dim candlelight of your room, disheveled hair like you just went out on some sort of feral hunting mission.

the only thing you had to touch up was your lipstick because it was completely gone, all transferred onto him. his eyeliner was a bit smeared but so much sexier this way.

"ready to go win this contest?" you stared at him in the mirror as you had finished reapplying your lipstick, slinging your sleek bag over your shoulder. you almost blushed with how sexy both of you looked, basking in a certain afterglow that just radiated off of your faces.

he interlaced his fingers with yours and looked down at you, the shadow of his figure towering over yours and cast against he wall by candlelight. the two of you were just the perfect pair.

he didn't say anything but instead bent down to hug you, smothering you in his embrace. you hugged him back, suddenly yelping when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, spanking you and speed walking out of the door.

"we can't win if we're late!"

that was your soob; just fucked your brains out, but worried about being late. that was your man <3

a/n: my spooky series was on hold for a bit but i will still try to get out the rest of the fics!! thank you so much for 500 followers, u are the best :) i hope everyone has a safe halloween and tysm reading <3 comment if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of the series!

tagslist: @love-be0m @izzyexe @mhasimp666 @alialialisstuff @caaaptaaainamericaaa @airax1 @slut4saerom

©beomie3

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bby-deerling · 2 months

Text

get a room (law x reader)

you and law have a little too much to drink, and everything pours out all at once :)

masterlist || commissions

suggestive content, wc: 2.4k

cw: alcohol, drunken antics, making out, friends to lovers, confessions

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @queenmimi2817 @risenwrites @atanukileaf @cloudzoro @mirillua @kaizokuniichan @sanjisprincesswifey @sanjisjuul

The Heart Pirates were celebrating Shachi’s birthday underneath the depths of the ocean, and Law has had far too much to drink.

It’s written all over his face, eyes glazed over and drooping with relaxation; you hear it in the unrestrained laughs he lets out, filling the room with the rare rumble of his chuckles as Bepo tries his best to sing along in key to his favorite song. It’s obvious that he’s indulged in having one too many from how suddenly tired he is, a wave of weariness crashing over him like a white-capped wave.

His intoxicated state forces him to let his guard down and discard his inhibitions as he sinks into the couch, stretching one of his legs out over the length of the cushions while the other remains bent, too buzzed to care about his filthy shoe dirtying the sofa. Humming along softly as Shachi and Ikkaku belt out a duet, he finds his lazy, glazed over eyes drifting, only for them to land on your back.

It’s obvious that Law is drunk from the way he can’t help but stare.

He’s been swallowing down his yearning for so long that the alcohol buzzing through his veins makes his pent-up feelings overflow; a jumbled, disjointed confession of his feelings has been stuck to the tip of his tongue like a viscous drop of honey for seemingly forever, threatening to slip from his mouth each time he spends time alone with you—which at this point was nearly every evening. Law normally forces himself to shove his feelings into the pit of his stomach, but now, as he watches you giggling and unsure on your feet as you chat with Bepo, he knows nothing will be able to stop the way his lips unconsciously curl upward as his gaze rests on you, or hide the fondness he holds for you, imbued in each breath he takes. Craving your presence but much too shy to call you over, he stares holes into you from under the brim of his hat until a base instinct, a magnetic pull, makes you bend to the whims of his silent plea for attention.

You’re nearly as far gone as he is, judging from the way you flop unceremoniously on the couch after finishing the last gulp of your drink; your face screws up as the liquor coats your tongue—cute, as always, Law thinks to himself. Setting your glass down on the ground, you lean backwards, and your spine hits his leg; face flushing with warmth, he tilts his hat upwards to give you full view of the relaxed, easygoing smile he sends your way. His eyes are warm, free of the safeguards and walls that he maintains at nearly all times; it’s rare to see him like this outside of the comforting confines of closed doors, and catching that look of care and affection spread across his features in full view of the others sends butterflies racing through your stomach.

“Hey.” you mumble, demure smile on your face as your heartbeat jumps to the apples of your cheeks, red hot as they expose how deeply he affects you, rendering you a smitten pile of mush melting into the couch.

Law’s grin turns into something more akin to a smirk as he reaches out his bent leg to hook around your waist, caging you in his grasp like a blue sheep, or a mountain deer, or some other prey animal able to satiate the hunger of a starving snow leopard. “Hey.” he murmurs, mirroring your greeting as he watches you freeze up with anticipation, doe eyes blown wide as you wait for his next move. With a quietly spoken c’mere, he pulls his bent leg further inward, nudging you closer; normally, the boldness would have shocked you and make you sputter, but the drinks you’ve downed have turned you unabashed and unreserved, unable to do anything but bend to his request to lay down on his chest.

Resting your chin on the backs of your hands, elbows stretching outward, you look up at him with adoration, though everything is cast in a filter that’s slightly fuzzy, and the music is far too loud as it thumps in your ears. Touch like this from Law was unheard of—the two of you were quite close, and yet something as slight as daring to shift the tiniest bit of your weight onto him when sitting next to him on his office couch was enough to turn both of you into blushing messes—but somehow, it feels right; it’s natural, the way the heat of his skin creeps into yours as one of his hands traces circles into the small of your back and the other pulls his hat from his head and places it on yours. He’s beyond amused at the sight, and you let out a giggle; his hair is even messier than usual as he chuckles softly before deciding he wants his cap back on and snatches it from you, just as quickly as he gave it to you.

The hand that takes his prized spotted possession back from you finds a new directive as inked fingers weave through tresses of your hair. Humming contently, you lean into the touch, dying to feel more of his warmth spreading through your skin. “I’m mesmerized by you.” he murmurs, eyes melting into yours with an uncharacteristic softness. Time crawls to a standstill, and its passage becomes marked only by the rise and fall of his chest against yours; his inked hand cups your face, and his thumb runs across your jawline, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. Gazes swimming with the emotions and words you craved to say to each other, you’re both paradoxically left speechless.

“Please tell me you feel it too.” he whispers softly, sitting up slightly to lean in a smidge closer to your lips.

Your head nods slightly, and you murmur a soft, “I do” as you subtly adjust your position, lips nearly ghosting over his. Closing the gap, his lips meld onto yours; there’s a slight moment of hesitation before he starts kissing you properly, drinking in your essence as his arm loops around your waist, holding you close as your tongue tangles with his. The way his lips fuse with yours is soft but passionate, simultaneously heated and gentle as you both drown in an overwhelming sense of need. Everything except the sensations coursing along your skin had slowly dissolved away; however, your crewmates were very much still in the room, and slack-jawed at the fact that the two of you were making out in front of everyone.

“They’re both so wasted.” Penguin mumbles to Shachi, cringing as Law’s hand drifts dangerously close to the hem of your shirt.

Shachi laughs, carding his hand through his hair—truthfully, neither of them were any less inebriated than you and Law, and therefore ill-equipped to pass judgement, but this was the most interesting thing to happen on the Polar Tang in weeks, and no one could pass up the opportunity to make some live commentary. “At least he’s not going to be grumpy in the morning.” he says with a toothy smile; Law was known for being irritable and sour when he’s hungover, though sucking face with you tonight will hopefully put him in a better mood than usual when his head starts pounding and his bones begin to ache.

“I’m so happy for Captain!” Bepo cries, tears of joy streaming down his face; however, his display of emotion doesn’t last long before he’s bopped on the head by Shachi and Penguin.

“Knock it off and leave them alone! They’re gonna stop if they hear you!” Shachi exclaims, though his scolding is all for naught as Ikkaku drunkenly lets out a wolf whistle, cackling when Law’s head snaps away from yours, a string of saliva still tethering you to each other. A brief seed of panic implants itself in your chest as he looks at you, eyes blown out with shock, but the emotion quickly fades from his place and is replaced by playful smugness as he removes his hat and holds it along the sides of your faces in a haphazard attempt to create some privacy and leans in to capture your lips once more.

Lost in the melding of heated touches and drag of tongues against each other, you’re not quite sure when the lights dim, when the music stops, or when everyone files out of the room towards their beds, but when the two of you pull apart once more, he presses his lips to your forehead and maneuvers you onto your side so he can hold you close, murmuring a soft ‘m tired in your ear, though the exposed expanse of your neck is too tantalizing, and he plants a few kisses along it before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Me too—g’night, Law.” you mumble, lacing your fingers with his and bringing his knuckles to your lips. The sleep you both drift into is sound and much more restful than usual; the calming flood of emotions drifting through your body overpowers the clanging sounds of the submarine, and both of you are out like lights until the morning, to the point where your crewmates end up having to wake you up themselves.

“Look at them, they’re still in their own little world.” Penguin muses, the sound of his voice muffled by the sleepy haze that keeps your eyes clamped shut and body still. Bepo blubbers something about how it’s just so sweet, until he’s scolded to stop crying—which he promptly apologizes for. A tired ache runs through your bones, and you take a deep inhale as you try to stretch, but Law’s arms tighten around you, keeping your back pressed flush against him as he sleepily mumbles something incoherent into your ear. A content smile spreads warmly across your face until a snicker from Shachi reminds you that the two of you weren’t alone; when an intoxicating buzz was dancing under your skin last night, you had paid your crewmates no mind, but now, spotlighted by harsh fluorescent lights overhead, the tips of your ears burn red with embarrassment.

“Good morning, lazybones!” Shachi teases with a toothy smirk as your eyes flutter open, poking you in the cheek. You let out a heavy sigh, unable to meet your friend’s amused stare. Law shifts behind you, grumbling as he sits up, leaving you feeling bare and cold despite a blanket still being wrapped around your shoulders.

“Good morning, Captain! We made you both breakfast!” Bepo starts, his bright eyes and beaming smile a harsh contrast to Law’s scowl as he sips at the coffee that his crewmates so graciously brought him.

“And brought you some ibuprofen for the hangover.” Ikkaku adds as you take a bite of your eggs; you give her a mumbled thanks, a soft, gracious smile on your face as both you and Law scarf down your food. An unusual and eerie silence envelops the room; your friends were always so very talkative, but it seemed like they were waiting for either of you to say something, hanging on the edge of their seats to figure out what exactly was going on between you two.

“What time is it?” Law asks once his plate is clear, washing his food down with the last dregs of coffee remaining in his mug.

“A quarter past eleven, Captain!” Penguin responds with a smile; however, Law shows no deviation from his normal morning behavior as his still-tired eyes scan the room, still filthy from the aftermath of the party.

“This place is a mess.” he grumbles, stating the obvious as he fishes his hat off the ground and places it back on his head.

Bepo apologizes profusely, hanging his head as he nearly cries. “We’re sorry, Captain! We were trying to let the two of you get some rest—” he exclaims, though Law isn’t in the mood for his friend’s dramatics.

“Well, we’re up now. Clean it up, all of you.” he orders, rolling his neck to stretch it out as he stands, grimacing as he notices a stain right in the center of his favorite sweatshirt.

“Yes, Captain!” you all say in unison as you start to collect trash from the floor, though a wave of dread washes through your body; it was one thing to not acknowledge what had occurred last night in front of your crewmates, but the prospect of him heading towards his office and leaving things unsaid terrifies you at the core.

As if reading your mind, his pointed gaze turns to you, though his words send a shiver down your spine. “Not you. I need to talk to you.” he says bluntly as he turns and heads towards the door, giving you a silent order to follow him. Your friends keep quiet, though they send you sympathetic looks on your way out when they notice the way your body starts to tremble.

“Quit shaking like a leaf—I’m giving you the day off. I just didn’t want it to look like I’m playing favorites.” he reassures you, after ensuring the two of you were alone in the hallway and away from any prying ears. A heavy exhale leaves your lips as you let go of the breath you’d been inadvertently holding, though when the two of you pass by the door to the bedroom you share with Ikkaku, there’s a mutual hesitation as you lock eyes with your captain, both of you too nervous to speak.

Law breaks the silence first, cheeks dusted red as he speaks. “If you’re still tired, I thought that maybe we could, y’know…” he mumbles, biting his tongue in anticipation as he waits for your response; he’s relieved when a dreamy, adoring smile erupts on your face, and you perk up with excitement.

“I’d love to! Just let me grab a nightgown—this outfit isn’t very comfy.” you say, eyes sparkling as you dart into your room to grab the garment. When you return, he can’t help himself from gently taking your chin between two of his fingers and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. Though the press of his lips was innocent, it leaves you dizzy all the same, and you’re just as disoriented when he teleports you to his room and both of you crash into each other like magnets.

As his tongue slips into your mouth and your back hits the door, something tells you that the nap you were planning to take together would have to be postponed until later in the day.

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