#the events of the first and third pic would be about a year apart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junghelioseok · 3 years

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heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

It’s been awhile since my brain insisted on a Life In a Bulleted List post! (Please forgive any odd emotional leaps bullet to bullet.)

During the middle part of this week, my wife is going to travel for a work thing for the first time since February 2020. We’re both fully vaccinated, in a spot with low COVID numbers, and she’s going to a spot with low COVID numbers, and honestly, it feels weird to be the amount of worried I am, which is not very worried! Obviously COVID is still a massive problem worldwide, and of course we live in a country whose greed and foreign policies actively make things worse for other places, and of course it’s still very important to take every precaution here (we’re still wearing masks in stores/public places, for instance). But I’ve spent the last fifteen months with pretty painful anxiety, worry, and anger as my near-constant companions, and it is wild to think about my wife going off to a different area and to feel...pretty much OK with that.

This will, however, be my first (and second and third) night spent without her since, yes, February 2020. And honestly, while it might be kind of a novelty this week to, like, eat something I like that my wife doesn’t, or to stay up writing until a not-very-sensible hour...all this time together has been great. Didn’t get tired of her once. (At least not anything a solo walk around the neighborhood or a solo trip to pick up groceries couldn’t fix.) We are very lucky. Understatement.

I am becoming a person who doesn’t kill every plant. And our yard is closer to “done” which is very exciting. And I’m finally getting to the point with container gardening where our food is semi-regularly seasoned with things I’ve grown. I’ve got a lot to learn but for awhile I was worried I would never be even partially successful.

Last week we found two young opossums dead in the backyard, quite far apart from each other. We couldn’t figure out what happened, but it’s possible they got into some poison elsewhere and ventured into our yard? I said some words over them (it’s not like we knew them but I suppose everything deserves to hear “you are loved and will be remembered” even if the people promising to remember you are just two random women) and we buried them and it was really sad. I love opossums, and I wish I knew what happened so I could try to prevent it in the future.

My writing brain continues to be entirely focused on fiction (well, fiction and my professional genre). I’m almost certain I’m currently setting a record for Longest Time Without Poetry since my childhood, maybe. It’s weird. But fiction! I’m having so much fun and feel so connected to everything I’m writing and thinking about, both in terms of orignal stuff and fic. I love the feeling of being out in the world doing mundane little things but in a good mood because of fiction. :) :) :)

I haven’t watched all of this past Friday’s Fire Drill Friday yet, but I think Jane Fonda’s hair is getting more Grace Hanson-shaped as the G&F season 7 filming gets closer to resuming. I feel very convinced this is true, whether intentional or subconscious, and I hope it means they’re gonna let Grace’s hair go grey this season. I know there’s at least one interview in which she said that’s what she wanted to happen, plus the Grace wig visible in S7 BTS pics (since they started filming after she’d already changed her real hair) seems to have grey roots?!

Speaking of FDF, the guest was Demi Lovato and it is pretty wild how many people on the Instagram event announcement, people who claim to be a Jane Fonda fan or a fan of the environment or social justice or whatever could absolutely Not Handle It to see someone respectfully yet nonchalantly use the correct pronouns for a non-binary person? The sanctity of grammar argument is EMBARRASSING. The phrase “attention addict” is EMBARRASSING. Especially since judging someone for seeming like an attention addict seems like a slippery slope on Judgment Mountain to judging someone for their actual addictions, past or present. And since we as a society love to punish people for their addictions and weaknesses instead of celebrating the way that self-discovery and honesty and self-actualization give people the tools to be stronger and cope with their “weaknesses” more effectively. And I’m sorry, Gail, but if you aren’t thinking maybe it’s a little weird that an 83-year-old can use they/them pronouns in a sentence while you’re on her page performatively misgendering someone, then you aren’t embarrassed enough but I will feel embarrassed on your behalf.

On a much, much, much happier note, baking with weed for older relatives is a love language. <3

And finally, on a very related note, I leave you with One Weird Trick your doctor won’t tell you for how to make sure you don’t forget which brownies are the special ones:

(Image ID: a white saucer containing two brownies. One is plain on top and the other is covered with a variety of rainbow sprinkles and colorful sugar.)

#do not reblog there are so many things in here not to reblog #more emotions than livejournal dot com #jane fonda appreciation society #cw opossum death #food things #personal #about me #grace and frankie #gender things #cw misgendering

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livefromphilly · 3 years

Text

The Good and The Bad, 04.22.21 - 05.20.21

None of this shit is amazing or especially significant.

I already mentioned it, but apparently my X100V suffered water damage. Since it was out of warranty and deemed unfixable, it would have just been $1220 for a replacement. That was almost the same cost as buying a new one so I just told them never mind. I’m honestly a bit disappointed; I didn’t baby the camera, but I also would expect a camera that’s advertised as weather sealed to hold up better than it did. I started using my Micro Four Thirds camera as my general walk around camera and it’s been ok in that regard, especially once I added the Panasonic Leica 15mm. I just wish the shutter wasn’t so damn loud.

Moving was a pain in the ass. I finally feel settled in here, at least, but man I don’t ever want to move again.

After all the costs of moving, I only had enough money to get a new computer or a new TV but not both. The computer was a more pressing need so I went with that. My old TV is relatively new (and nice), but I got it when I lived in a much smaller apartment where the couch was a lot closer to the TV. My eyesight is horrible and now it’s kind of hard to see the TV from that distance.

I keep telling myself this but I think I'm really going to try to get back to using Flickr more. Instagram and Tumblr are nice for sharing photos, but I think I want a more photo-centric place. Somebody I follow on Insta did a copy/paste thing about the platform being a place for friends to connect and it kinda hit like "yeah, I guess it really isn't just about photos anymore". At least not primarily. Apparently the last thing I posted on there was in 2020, but it was just photos from a roll of film I shot in 2018.

Speaking of film, I haven't shot a roll of that stuff in a while. I haven't finished one roll so far this year, and May is definitely the furthest I've made it into a year without shooting film since I got back into shooting film in 2012. I'll definitely have to fix that this weekend.

It’s been nice hanging out with friends again. So far the only bar I’ve hit up has been Local 44 but I’m hoping to visit Bob & Barbara’s soon. I had planned to go last Saturday but forgot it was my sister’s birthday.

I saw my mother and sister for the first time without masks in over a year last Saturday for said birthday. She and my parents came over for BBQ and cake. As much as I missed spending time with friends I definitely missed my fam more.

The Apple event was interesting in a way that I like what they showed, but it also made me decide to save money, skip the iMac, and just get the Mac Mini. So far I’m happy with the investment. I also got a 27” monitor to go with it, and it does 120 fps so I can hook my Xbox Series X up to it and play certain games at the higher frame rate .

I downloaded a demo for some photo editing software called DXO PureRAW and it’s hands down the most amazing photographic software I ever used. You just drag and drop a raw file and it spits out an incredibly clean DNG even on super noisy high ISO pics. It almost makes the micro four thirds photos look like they came out of a full frame camera with the lack of noise. The only problem is it doesn’t work on Fuji X-Trans based files, so a lot of the photos I took in the last few years with my X100V and X100F can’t take advantage of it. It also, for some odd reason, doesn't work with the Fuji XF10 files, which is strange considering that's a regular Bayer sensor.

I’m HYPE for the NBA playoffs. I really think the Sixers have a shot to win it all this year. I mean, I think that every year but especially this year.

#The Good and The Bad

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pradadoie · 3 years

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A full translation of HXX’s second victim’s post - Part 4

The second time I met him was at the Shenyang Skechers event (21st December 2019, morning). I was supposed to meet him at the event, but I ended up catching a fever and rested in the hotel instead. This was also the time I learnt that he was contacting a few other fans from China (she knew it from her friend). After the event, he came to look for me at night.

First pic

HXX: But I think there are a lot of fans here (in the hotel)

OP: Just swipe the room key in the lift and come up to the 22nd floor

HXX: alright

OP: Maybe you can come later

HXX: I just woke up

OP: Ok, go eat something first

HXX: ok

OP: Should I just visit you now?

HXX: You know what, It’s fine! I will just meet you later

OP: Yea, meet me later

HXX: Do you think I should wash up first

Second Pic

HXX: Which

HXX: number

HXX: Is it?

OP: 2202

HXX: But you have a fever

HXX: Is it really alright with you?

OP: It’s fine, I feel much better now

OP: I’m just freezing a little

HXX: Alright

HXX: I won’t arrive that fast

HXX: I’ll tell you when I’m on the way up

OP: Alright

HXX: I’m coming up now

HXX: Open the door for me

HXX: Ok?

OP: ok

Third Pic

OP mentioned that she could only find these few screenshots as proof as she changed her phone prior to making this post - causing her to lose some of the chats between the both of them. She kept these screenshots above, which are dated 21st December 2019.

This was also the time where we didn’t use any protection (while having sex). During that time, I asked him to put one (condom) on, and he said it’s alright/fine. I assumed that he wasn’t in a good/healthy condition. After having sex, he mentioned that it has been a year since he had sex, and once again, I believed his words. What I did not know was that he (supposedly in a bad state) went back to Seoul that night to meet up and flirt with other women.

After said intimate actions, I asked him about the other fan. He immediately admitted that the girl happened to be the Chinese fan who we talked about the other day. They had a meal together and hugged each other in a friendly way to express gratitude. They did not do anything else other than that, HXX even showed me their (HXX and the chinese fan) Wechat chat logs, the chinese fan sent him affectionate messages and I could tell that she genuinely liked him and had strong feelings for him. However, his replies were simple (T/n: The chinese word for this has more nuance - it implies that he never put in any effort into the replies he sent to the chinese fan). During that time, I thought it really wasn’t nice of him to show me their private chat logs, but I liked him too much, I understood where he was coming from and appreciated the fact that he was able to be transparent about their relations together, and that the chinese fan’s feelings for him were just one sided.

He expressed his fear of the chinese fan spreading the story and I asked him whether he was afraid of losing his fans. He responded saying - “I’m not afraid of losing fans because it doesn’t matter to me, I’m more afraid of the company finding out.” I told him to pretend to switch his accounts and ghost her (to not contact her anymore), and he kept emphasizing that he was really afraid, and wouldn’t stop smoking cigarette after cigarette, finishing an entire pack of cigarettes within two hours. I tried to comfort him and give him advice, thinking back, I was probably deceived by his lies as well.

After that, he would tell me that his schedules are getting more packed and he was getting more popular, and we wouldn’t be able to meet up. Thinking about it now, he was probably giving me a vaccination (T/n: OP used a metaphor, possibly to describe what HXX said in order to make her immune to other men). I jokingly brushed it off and said when that happens I would pursue another male Hong Kong celebrity, and to annoy/playfully aggravate him, I told him that I used to like this male celebrity, he told me: “His girlfriend is my friend, we filmed a program together and we even cleaned our ears together.” Our conversation shifted to the artists who were under the same company as him, he said although he fooled around (T/n: Going out and having fun), he thinks artists like K*is *u were dumb (T/n: OP used the word “傻逼”, aka moron - which came out of HXX’s mouth), took training for granted and never practiced, instead he spent his time playing around. Although I agreed with his opinion on this, he was essentially a pot calling the kettle black. The things you do aren’t any better, if his nickname is “Toothpick Wu” then your nickname should be “Needle Huang/Wong” (T/N: “Toothpick Wu” is a nickname given to Kr*s W* because of his small...you know, which was mentioned in one of his victim’s posts. OP may be insinuating that HXX’s small as well)

As he talked about himself and his body, he mentioned that his body wasn’t suitable for heavy workouts. Because of his small head size, working out heavily will make him look like a muscular barbie (T/n: slang for girls with a pretty face and a muscular body). At that moment, he mentioned his participation in the Korean military show (Titled: Real Men), where he faked a lower back injury/pain in order to leave the show earlier because he felt that it was too exhausting. Are you even worth your fans' concern by doing something like that? He also complained that the mainland entertainment shows he participated in edited him maliciously and made him look like an idiot - which made him contemplate on whether he should appear in the next season because he hated it.

Previously, I gave him a ring as a gift, which he wore most of the time - which was why I asked whether he could give me something that I could keep around me at all times, he refused and said he would never do things like this. He also mentioned that he had to take our couple ring (that I gifted him) off in order to comply with the show’s styling during recording sessions and told me not to overthink about it. I told him I would give him many rings so he could switch it out anytime and he said yes.

Apart from that, he strikes me as a boy with childlike innocence (T/n: read between the lines when OP says that, it's just a metaphor for innocence), at least that's what I thought. He believed that we would be able to travel to the moon sometime in our lives (T/N: WayV - Moonwalk?)I asked him if I could follow him and he smirked while saying he would think about it. Then I said if I earn enough money to get tickets and travel to the moon with him, would he follow? He responded saying “Then we can.”

In the end, he couldn’t give his everything to me, but I was willing to give everything to him.

#wayv #wayv translations #nct #nct u #nct translation #nct translations

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jamaisjoons · 5 years

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photobooth | knj

Summary: You never knew fucking in a photobooth, while all your friends are on the other side, could be this sweet. University AU! Porn with like 30% plot.

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader ft. Jaebum

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: excessive swearing as usual, namjoon being soft and cute as shit because that is a warning in itself, jealous possessive sex, also a jealous namjoon, soft dom namjoon, sub reader, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, joonie with his sinful mouth aka dirty talk, joon’s giant schlong, camera sex, technical porno-graphy (they take pics of them fucking), finger sucking, joon’s wicked tongue aka eating pussy, blowjob, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, cum eating, cum play, handjob, degredation (use of slut), cum swallowing, gagging + choking (on cock), riding, penetrative sex, slight? pain kink, namjoon with A* stamina, creampie, cum feeding

A/N: There is actually only about 30% plot in this, I did the math. But also, please don’t ask me where this depraved fantasy was bred from because honestly, I have no words or excuses for the complete filth I just wrote.

It’s not very often that you find yourself partying. It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in it; it was more than you were partied out. Kind of sad and pathetic for someone who was still in their third year of university but it was the truth. You had practically exhausted yourself (and your bank account) during your first two years of university, attending every club night, house party and drinking related college event that you could. You were still known across campus as the first year girl who downed an entire bottle of tequila before stealing some traffic cones (causing several issues with traffic the next day) just so you could use the said cones as party hats for the various statues littered around your campus.

That day had practically gone down in history.

So yes, it’s not really very often that you find yourself attending parties anymore; preferring the comfort of your own home and bed where you could scroll endlessly through social media compared to being surrounded by drunk people you barely knew. The parties you now attended were few and far between; so why did you find yourself in Hoseok and Namjoon’s shared apartment this heinous Monday night? Well, because it was a celebration. Namjoon, one of your best friends and your boyfriend of almost a year, had released his first ever mixtape. You’d spent the entire day listening to the masterpiece of a mixtape on repeat, a mix of deep, philosophical songs and diss tracks with the rhythm and flow of all the anger and frustration he felt and still feels towards the people who didn’t believe in him or told him he’d never amount to anything.

You see, all his life, Namjoon had always been the most clever, intelligent boy to walk whatever school he attended. University was no different and thus, he’d obtained a full scholarship to study both mathematics and philosophy. However, as much as he enjoyed both of those subjects, his passion had always been music. That had obviously led to slight friction with his family, who both wanted to support him and his music, but also wanted to see him succeed in life. And writing and producing didn’t always lead to success. Namjoon had also received criticism for his lyrics, flow and rap from other rappers who felt they were better than him. Nevertheless, he’d never let him get to him and kept his head down, producing his music whenever he could around his degrees. And finally, it had paid off, with him releasing his first ever mixtape album.

Hence, you find yourself at Hoseok and Namjoon’s apartment, for his congratulatory celebration. Hoseok’s state of the art speakers blared music so loud, you could feel the heavy bass reverberating through your bones. Not that most people seemed to mind, as the music was practically confined to the living room where most people were either dancing or just enjoying the music. If people wanted to speak, they were more than welcome to in the kitchen or rooftop, which consequently belonged to Hoseok and Namjoon as well. You were currently standing outside, breathing in the fresh air while Namjoon was conversing with Jackson, Yoongi and Wheein. Jimin and Jungkook were currently fighting over your best friend, Suri. Who had yet to decide who she was going to say yes to because somehow, she had fallen for both Busan boys.

Your other best friend and Suri’s sister, Sooji, was currently dancing on the table in the middle of the dance floor, her boyfriend of three years, Seokjin, was right next to her, egging her on as he drunkenly swayed left to right. Taehyung and his own paramour, Yena, were currently nestled in each other’s arms, whispering and giggling to each other. Thus, you found yourself on the rooftop, a drink in your hand with Hoseok and his girlfriend, Seokjin’s sister, Sooyun, at your side, keeping you company as you giggled at him. The poor boy had only had two drinks and yet he was flushed red and completely quiet, the complete opposite of what he was usually like while Sooyun, in her tipsy state, rambled on and on about something or the other. Honestly, she spoke so quick and changed topics so often, it was hard to keep up.

“____, I love you! I honestly love you so much. You’re so pretty, and you’ve got such nice hair” Sooyun gushed, reaching out and practically yanking at your locks. You winced slightly at the tipsy girl. Hoseok had his arms wrapped around her, leaning his head on her shoulder while he quietly watched the interaction between the two of you.

“I can’t believe you’re single, you should let us set you up!” Sooyun whined and you almost choke on your peach schnapps, lime vodka and lemonade concoction. You weren’t single. You were very much happily taken with the love of your life, Namjoon. Except, none of your friends knew that.

You’d been together almost a year, getting together in your second year. You’d initially kept it a secret because you weren’t sure whether it was going to go anywhere and you didn’t want friends butting into a relationship that was so new; especially since you were both a part of the same friendship group. But after the first couple of months, you’d just gotten so used to being in your bubble and being able to get away from your friends that you’d decided to just keep it to yourself for a bit longer. It was easy enough, you lived alone and so Namjoon and you had spent most of your time locked in your apartment. But then, the time kept passing and suddenly, your first anniversary was nearing and none of your friends knew of your relationship with Namjoon. Just as you were about to refute her words, Sooyun shakes off Hoseok and grabs your hand.

“Come on! I’ll introduce you to someone right now! He’s one of Jinyoung’s friends. You know Jinyoung right? He’s on my Forensics course” Sooyun says as she drags you across the rooftop, directly across your boyfriend and his group of friends. Namjoon looks at you in surprise, watching your every move and you smile apologetically at him before shrugging. Both of you know how headstrong Sooyun is, and you both know that there’s absolutely no saying no to her when her mind is set on something. Thus, you simply let her drag you.

When she finally stops, it’s in front of two guys. One of them, you can distinctively remember is Jinyoung; who you’d met a couple of times when Sooyun was working on projects with him. The second, is a completely new face and you’re floored by how beautiful he is. He’s got sharp, cat-like dark eyes framed by long dark locks that swish in front of his eyes. His nose is straight and sharp, sitting above perfectly shaped, albeit thin pink lips and a sculpted jaw that completes his face. He truly is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and if you weren’t already happy in a relationship with Namjoon, you’d have kissed Sooyun for this meeting. However, you weren’t single and you could both feel and see Namjoon’s gaze on you from the corner of your eye.

“Jinyoung-ah! Jaebum-ah hi! This is my friend, ____. ____, this is Jaebum and Jinyoung!” Sooyun says and Jaebum sends Jinyoung a look before smiling briefly at you. Jinyoung, however, scoffs and raises his eyebrow.

“Sooyun-ah, is this another one of your matchmaking schemes? Because the last time you did this, you tried to set up Yugyeom with Hwasa and you know how that ended” Jinyoung says sternly but Sooyun just waves him off.

“I should have known that their personalities would clash but it’s fine. And this isn’t a set up. I’m just introducing you to one of my best friends. Who just happens to be single” Sooyun says with a slight slur and you blush as Jaebum looks you up and down with a smirk.

“She’s cute, I’ll give her that. ____, was it?” Jaebum says before turning to you and you nod, blushing despite yourself.

“Perfect! I’ll just leave you both to it. Jinyoung, we have a project to discuss, don’t we?” Sooyun says as she grabs Jinyoung by the arm before tugging him.

“Ya, why would we need to discuss that now? Sooyun-ah? YAH!” Jinyoung protests as he’s dragged away, leaving you and Jaebum alone. You resist the urge to face palm yourself before nervously giggling as you turn back to Jaebum.

“Sorry about her. She’s kind of hard to say no to when she gets like that. Especially after a couple of drinks” You say sheepishly and Jaebum waves it off.

“I’ve been told. Yugyeom almost cried after the entire Hwasa situation, Apparently, she thought he was too cute and laidback” Jaebum says and you both laugh, thankful for the ice breaker.

“Cute laugh, suits a cute girl” Jaebum says as he leans forward slightly with a smirk before sipping his drink. Your eyes widen slightly and you shake your head at him.

“Hey listen, I know she said I was single… but I’m not. I’m actually seeing someone” You say and Jaebum’s eyes widen slightly before he backs up. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to explain a bit more.

“They don’t know. As in my friends don’t know. We haven’t told them yet. We kinda just liked being by ourselves, I guess? You know how big our group can be. It was nice being able to spend time just with each other, especially since we were so new. We were kinda worried that they’d immediately want us to start doing couple-y things… so we just never told them. But it’s a year in about two weeks” You quickly explain and Jaebum nods along.

“Yeah, I understand. At least, the needing the privacy thing. But damn, that’s a long time to keep something from your friends. It’s Namjoon-ssi isn’t it?” Jaebum asks and your eyes widen in alarm.

“Wha- how did you know?” You exclaim and Jaebum laughs at you.

“Well, Jackson always mentions how his ‘best buddy’ always seems to be busy because he’s hanging out with you. I don’t know how no one’s noticed to be honest. But also, he hasn’t stopped glaring at me since Sooyun-ah dragged you here, I’m kind of afraid he’s going to deck me or something” Jaebum says with an easy laugh and you stiffen, looking over at Namjoon. Jaebum was right, Namjoon was glaring daggers at the other male. You catch his attention and send him an easy smile and he’s immediately placated. His features relax, but you notice the slight clenching of his jaw and you know you’re not out of the frying pan yet. You turn back to Jaebum and give him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, he won’t hit you. I don’t think…” You trail off before shaking your head as you reassure the man, “No. No, he definitely won’t. Don’t worry, although I should probably go before he really gets angry. It was nice to meet you Jaebum-ssi” You say with a slight bow and Jaebum nods.

“Same here. Although, if you and Namjoon-ah ever break up, let me know” Jaebum says with a wink and you smack him playfully before turning around. You look over to where Namjoon was previously, but he’s no longer there. Your eyebrows scrunch in puzzlement as you look around, but it’s like he’s pulled a Houdini and completely disappeared. You frown before you walk around, looking for him.

He’s almost nowhere to be found on the rooftop, so you decide to check inside. You’re walking past the photobooth Hoseok had hired for the day (‘It’ll be fun! People can put on the funny accessories and take pictures to remember the day! We need one and it’s so cheap to hire it’ he has argued when faced with the question of why exactly they needed a photo-booth) when suddenly, you’re pulled into said photo booth, with the curtain being shut immediately after. You open your mouth to scream when an arm wraps around your waist, a hand clasping around your mouth and muffling your impending shriek. Your eyes widen when you come face to face with your boyfriend.

“Namjoon, what the fuck?” You yell when he finally takes his hand off of your mouth, hitting his chest lightly.

“Don’t what the fuck me. What were you doing flirting with Jaebum?” Namjoon asked, his eyes narrowing as his jaw juts out. He’s glowering down at you and you know you should probably feel threatened or somewhat fearful; but his anger only serves to turn you on.

“I wasn’t flirting with Jaebum!” You argue back. Briefly, you wonder if the both of you should be quieter, but you figure that considering the music is so loud, you’re both safe from prying ears.

“It certainly looked like you were. Why did Sooyun-ah drag you over there?” Namjoon asks and you stiffen slightly. You rub the back of your neck as you mumble your answer, avoiding his eyes. Namjoon’s eyes turn into slits as he cocks his head, trying to discern what you were saying.

“What did you just say?” Namjoon asks and you let out a small sigh, already knowing that he’s going to react explosively.

“She wanted to introduce me to him because she didn’t like that I was single” You finally say, your tone laced with exasperation and Namjoon’s hands smack into the photobooth wall behind you, caging you in, your knees slightly bent to accommodate the seat.

“What?” Namjoon grits out and you place your palms on his chest, trying to placate his anger.

“Namjoon! She doesn’t know we’re dating; her intentions were pure. Besides, I told him I was dating you as soon as he started flirting” You say in a rush before freezing, realising what you had just said. You quickly clamp your mouth shut, noticing the way his eyes darken at your words.

“He did what? H-He flirted with you? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m going to kill him” Namjoon says as he draws up to his full height, towering over you before turning around to leave the photo booth. Your eyes widen and you quickly grab his wrist and tug as hard as you can, pulling him back towards you. The booth is too small however, and he almost falls into you. Namjoon quickly catches himself, bracing his palms once again on the wall behind you.

“Stop! As soon as I said I was dating you, he stopped. Nothing happened. I’m yours Joonie, no one else’s” You say softly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you tip toe and kiss the bottom of his jaw.

“You’re right. You’re mine and no one else’s, especially not Jaebum’s” Namjoon says, his voice deep and husky. His words, paired with his tone, send shockwaves straight to your core and you can feel the beginnings of your arousal.

“And I’m going to show you, exactly why you’re mine and who you belong to” Namjoon continues before swooping down and capturing your lips with his. His arms snake around your waist and pull you closer into his hard, defined chest. You let out a moan, your fingers curling into the locks at the nape of his neck as you deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes your lip, asking for entrance and you allow him access. His tongue slips into your mouth and your tongues begin dancing; massaging and twirling around each other.

You moan into the kiss, tugging his hair slightly as you try to pull him closer to you. Namjoon’s slender fingers begin making quick work of your shirt, unbuttoning each button one by one before slipping it off of your body. His hands move to rest on your hips, trailing up and down your side before he unclasps your bra. He breaks off the kiss and begins peppering kisses down your jaw and towards your neck, suckling pink bruises onto your skin. His hands deftly slip under your bra, hand splayed across the side of your ribcage as a thumb skilfully works your nipple into hardened peaks. His soft touches send shiver across your spine and you cry out when he rolls your nipple under his thumb.

“Fuck, Joon… we can’t. Not here” You say, in a half assed attempt to get him to stop, but even as you say that, you pull him closer and he smiles against your collarbone; where he continues to pepper small kisses over the expanse of the skin.

“Yeah baby. Right here, where anyone could walk in on us. Where Jaebum can hear you. I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re mine and no one can have you. You’re mine… just like I’m yours” Namjoon whispers, brushing his lips against your lips before tenderly kissing the side of your mouth. His hands trail down from their place on your breasts to the buttons of your jeans and he begins unbuttoning them before slipping them down to your thighs. His hand then begins trailing along your mon pubis, back and forth in light touches. You buck your hips into him, lips drawn between your teeth as you quietly plead with him to give you what you want. You can feel your wetness sticking and unsticking to the lace of your panties with every one of his movements. Your pussy began clenching as he slowly got closer and closer towards cupping your slick sex.

“Joonie… Joonie please. I need something… anything” You plead and Namjoon pressed his lips into your temple.

“Anything for my baby” He says and then his hand slips under your panties, bypassing your clit and aiming straight for your slightly wet hole; immediately thrusting his middle finger into you. You let out a small moan of surprise, slight pain but mainly pleasure. His finger wasn’t wet enough to enter you without the mild discomfort, but now that he was in you, your slick was lubricating his digits.

“Shit baby, I could barely get my finger in. How are you this fucking tight? I swear, no matter how much or how often I fuck you open, you always stay as tight as the first night I fucked you. I’m gonna have to stretch that pretty little cunt for me aren’t I?” Namjoon hisses as he feels you clench around his finger.

“Oh god” You whimper, biting your lips hard as he forces a second finger into you. You lean forward, resting your head just under his collarbone as he continues pressing his long fingers as deep into you as they can go, the pads of his fingers pressing softly against your g-spot. He slowly slides his fingers out of you before pressing them slowly into you once again, slowly fucking you open. You let out a small whine as you feel him stretch you open, your hips softly pressing further into his hand, grinding down on his hand, as you silently beg him for more. Suddenly, he begins retracting his fingers from you, but this time, he doesn’t slide back in; instead, he pulls out and begins rubbing your juices all over your pussy before his thumb brushes your clit.

You cry out at how sensitive the bundle of nerves is, throbbing and hard, crying out for the stimulation that it had been denied. But now that it was being touched, it was slightly over sensitised and Namjoon’s light touches only caused in making your thighs shake slightly. Then, he thrusts his fingers back into you and this time, the stretch is slightly easier to take. You thought you’d be able to remain quiet, but as he begins thrusting his fingers into you, the pad of his thumb rubs lazy circles into your pulsing clit and a small moan escapes your lips.

“Your pussy feels so good around my fingers baby. You feel so soft and wet inside, fuck… I can’t get enough of your pussy. I love the way you feel, whether it’s around my fingers, or my tongue… but I especially love how you feel around my cock” Namjoon whispers in your ear and his words force your walls to clench around him, causing him to groan throatily right beside your ear. You’re breathing heavily, forehead still braced against his chest and he thrusts slowly and deeply into you.

“Joon-ie” You stutter, your voice cracking when he begins pressing a third finger into you. Your eyes scrunch up and you breathe heavily, your wrists curling around his shirt as he continues pushing his third digit into you, stretching your tight pussy even further.

“Joonie, I can’t… it’s too much. Fuck, Joonie… it hurts” You moan, grabbing his wrist with one hand, stopping his movement when his third finger is as deep into you as it can go. He hushes you, pressing comforting kissing into the crown of your head as he waits for you to adjust to being spread around his digits.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’re doing so well. You’re being so good for me” Namjoon soothes and you nod, the pain finally dulling enough for him to move. You know he has to stretch you out with at least three fingers or it’d be too difficult to take his cock in later but it didn’t negate the pain and discomfort you felt now. You release his wrist and Namjoon slowly begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you once again, his thumb once again rolling your clit in soft circles. Your nerves feel afire with all the stimulation you’re receiving and your eyes are focused on the way his hand looks inside your panties, the muscles in his well-defined arm flexing every time his fingers move into you; nerves bulging against the skin of his arm.

You finally gather enough semblance of yourself to move your hand to the obvious bulge in his trouser. You feel how long and unbelievably thick he is through his denim clad crotch. Your hands move, trying to undo his belt and take some of the clothes off of him. Your fingers however are too shaky, Namjoon still slowly drawing out your pleasure in the cruellest of ways. You can feel the heat pooling in your belly, the slow burn slowly driving you insane as with each thrust of his fingers he hits your g-spot briefly, adding to your pleasure induced haze.

“Mmm, baby not yet. I want to try something first. Do you trust me?” Namjoon asks and you have no idea why he questions it, because your trust and faith in him has never once waivered.

“You know I do Nams” You reply without hesitating and Namjoon smiles at you, the indentations that are his dimples deepen and your heart skips a beat.

“I love you” Namjoon says and your eyes are hazy with lust but you smile lazily and kiss his neck before murmuring back your own ‘I love you’. He slowly slides his fingers free, his fingers slipping out with a small pop and you can feel the slight ache in your walls from being stretched but you suddenly feel empty, whining for him to fill you again and make you cum. Namjoon laughs deeply at you before spinning you around so you were facing the photobooth camera. He manoeuvres you so you’re braced against it, palms pressed either side of the camera. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realise you’re in perfect position for the photobooth camera to capture your illicit actions.

“Joon?” You ask nervously and he presses a comforting kiss into your back, between your shoulder blades.

“This is your punishment baby. I told you, I’m going to show you who you belong to. I’m going to run that camera, and we’re going to capture just how good you are for me, how fucked out I make you. I’m going to capture every facial expression, the way you look with my fingers, tongue or cock buried in you, the way you moan for me. I’m going to capture your face when you cum. I’m going to show you that you belong to me and no one else. That no one can love you the way I do, make you feel the way I do, fuck you the way I do” Namjoon murmurs, his words rumbling deep within his chest and your throat goes dry, your eyes almost rolling back into your skull. It’s completely vulgar and his words are filth, spoken by his sinful tongue. And yet, you can feel yourself gush, suddenly wanting everything he was willing to give you and so much more.

“Does my little slut like that? Do you want me to fuck you in front of this camera?” Namjoon asks and you nod eagerly, Namjoon smirking down at you. He spanks your ass slightly, groaning in appreciation at the way it jiggles. His fingers that were once buried deep in your cunt are now found between your lips. He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around them, licking and sucking your arousal clean from his digits. You rolled your tongue over his fingers, tasting your own juices.

“Fuck, you’re a sin” Namjoon hisses as he pulls his fingers out. He then crouches down, undoing your shoes before helping you slip them off, and the slides your jeans off of you too. He does however, leave your panties on. Namjoon quickly undresses himself too, leaving him in just his black boxers that do nothing to hide his hardened cock. He presses his cock into your clothed pussy and you let out a sharp hiss before it turns into a moan at the feel of his heat next to your own. He turns your head to the side before dropping down for a kiss and suddenly, you forget where you are. You lose yourself in the feel of his thick, luscious lips against your own, the silken feel of his tongue dancing against yours. You bite his lip playfully and Namjoon presses his fingertips harder into your hips, slowly grinding his cock in harsh movements against your wet heat. Namjoon’s fingers flit up your side and you squirm against him, laughing into the kiss and Namjoon pulls away, grinning down softly at your giggling figure.

“It tickles” You say and Namjoon wiggles his fingers into your side a bit more, forcing another laugh out of you before he leans over and buries his face into your neck. He breathes in your scent deeply, his hands trailing up your stomach to cup your breast, rolling and softly massaging them in his huge palms. He slowly kisses his way down your neck, tracing kisses down your spine until he’s on his knees behind you. He places two small kisses on either of your butt cheeks before pressing light kisses against your inner thighs. He can smell how strong your scent is, the muskiness of your arousal so strong that it almost drives his insane.

He slowly hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling the lace down slowly. He watches the way he slowly removes your sodden panties, loving how they slowly peel from where they’re clinging to your pussy lips. He lets out a shaky breath as strings of your arousal stick to the material before slowly breaking. You’re completely drenched. Your juices are slowly dripping down from your cunt, you’re a complete mess, arousal thick and sticky, as it runs down your inner thighs. He finally pulls them off and they drop to the floor in such a state of ruin that you know you’ll never be able to wear them again. When you’re finally exposed you shudder, the heat of Namjoon’s breath and slight chill of the night draft through the photo booth curtain only adding to the sensation.

“Turn the booth on sweetheart” Namjoon finally says and with shaky hands you click the buttons you need to. Silently, you thank Hoseok for the photo booth, but especially because he had it rigged to take as many pictures as you wanted before it stopped. Obviously, he hadn’t intended it to be used for this reason, but you figured ‘hey, what the hell?’. You clicked the infinite option, which would take photos every 30 seconds. It also meant you’d have to personally stop it from taking pictures. The countdown began. 5 seconds to go and Namjoon spread your legs slightly, so you could accommodate him between your legs better. 3 seconds to go and Namjoon spreads your ass cheeks with his hands, exposing your cunt for his eyes to feast upon. 1 second to go and he buries his face deep within your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your leaking hole. The second his lips touch you, your eyes flutter shut and your face crumples in elation as you moan, and the camera clicks that exact second.

Namjoon smirks between your folds before once again laving his tongue against the entirety of your sex, from the source of your leaking arousal to your hardened, pulsing clit. He lashes his tongue against you, twisting and rolling the appendage against your soaked cunt lips. He stiffened his tongue before he began licking your clit. His tongue swiped the bundle of nerves again and again and your hands curled into fists as you moaned out his name, attempting to grind your hips into his face. He continued teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around it, suckling it between those two pillowy lips of his.

The second you threw your head back, the camera clicked again and you gushed around his tongue. You had been so consumed by the intoxicating ecstasy your boyfriend was lavishing on you, that you had forgotten you were being photographed. His lips continuously suckled and flicked your clit with his tongue, one of his hands moving to brush his fingers against your clenching pussy once again. You mewled out his name, bucking into him as you begged for more and Namjoon, never wanting to disappoint you, gave you what you wanted. He began slipping two fingers into you, and this time you were wet enough that they slid in easier.

“Shiiit” You murmured as you felt him finger you open once again. Namjoon began sucking harder, moaning around your clit and causing your legs to shake on either side of him. His fingers began pumping into you, and then he curled them inside you and your knees buckled when his fingers hit your g-spot. You could feel your long-anticipated orgasm slowly building up. All the stress, the tension, the slow burn of pleasure caused by Namjoon’s languid pace, his teasing and tantalising touches were slowly stroking the fire building in your loins. Every suck and lick of your clit, every thrust of his fingers into you, the way he was moaning against your cunt, the rhythmic clicking of the camera, were causing sharp thrums of pleasure to burn through your veins. You were turned on beyond belief and you knew that you were going to cum soon. You could feel it building, growing exponentially with every moment.

“You taste so good sweetheart. You’re dripping all over my mouth. Fuck, you’re so wet. You’ve never been this wet before. Do you like me eating you out in front of a camera? I think you do. I think you get off on the thought of me or someone else seeing you like this. But, fuck me baby. You taste so good, the sweetest cunt I’ve ever eaten. I could eat you out forever” Namjoon says from between your legs as he begins working you over faster. His finger bury deeper into you, curling slightly more, brushing against your spongy g-spot in a brutal rhythm. You moan, gyrating your hips against his face as you mewl and gasp his name out repeatedly, as if it’s the only prayer on your lips. Distantly, you acknowledge the voice and party going on outside the booth, but it only serves to turn you on more.

“Namjoon… please” You plead and he starts sucking and licking harder, adding a third finger into you. Your legs stiffen at the stretch once again but you power through it, eyes shut and leaking with the tears from the pleasure wrought on your body. You can feel the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had build inside you and it was slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. Your legs are shaking almost non-stop at this point, but Namjoon perseveres, finger fucking and eating you out to the best of his ability. You’re so wet, you can hear the squelching of your wetness every time Namjoon thrusts his digits into you.

He sucks even harder on your clit than he had before, all three fingers thrusting in and out of you so quick, your walls convulse uncontrollably around them. He slightly parts his lips from around your clit and begins licking at the bundle of nerves while suckling. You clenched your eyelids tighter and felt the tears at the corners. And then, he reaches up and pinches your nipple as hard as he can and you let out a small shriek at the pain mixed with the pleasure. But it’s all it takes to push you over the edge.

Before you can stop yourself, you shriek out his name. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin prickling with every sensation imaginable as your muscles quake, legs spasming involuntarily around Namjoon’s head. And then you felt it. Your cunt clenched rhythmically, your wetness gushing out of you in pulses, all over Namjoon face and fingers and all over the floor of the photobooth. The scent of sex heightens impossibly, until all you can smell is your musky arousal in the air. The pleasure doesn’t subside after first few squirts, it only intensifies with Namjoon’s continuous ministrations. He’s moaning against your clit, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure as you soak his hand and face.

Your legs both feel numb and like jelly and you’re completely certain that if it weren’t for your intense bracing against the wall and Namjoon’s hand still on your breast keeping you up, you would have been a quivering mess crumpled on the floor, moaning uncontrollably. You want to push Namjoon away, but he continues his actions, riding out your orgasm. You feel too sensitive, too raw and it’s beginning to hurt, but you can’t find the energy to push him away. Instead, you breathe heavily, trying to get your breathing back under control as you ride the after waves of your orgasm. But then Namjoon presses his fingers deeper into you, right up against your g-spot and begins massaging and rubbing it and suddenly you’re thrust into your second orgasm, immediately after your first. It was harder this time, the constant stimulation of your g-spot intensifying every ounce of pleasure you feel. You cum so hard that it hurts as much as it feels good and you’re shrieking his name out once again.

You pray that the music is still blaring, because there is no way the people outside wouldn’t have heard you otherwise. You close your eyes once again, this time the tears flowing freely as you clench and unclench your fingers. Your entire body stays trembling as you once again ride the aftershocks of your second orgasm. Your mind has gone blank and you’re nothing but a blubbering, moaning mess on top of Namjoon. Namjoon is finally slowing down, but the stimulation is still too much so you begin squirming. You let out small whines of protest as you pull away and Namjoon finally gets the message. His fingers slowly leave your spasming cunt walls, lips dislodging from around your clit. He grins up at you, the entire bottom half of his face covered in copious amounts of your slick. Your cum was all over his face, his shoulders, his chest and his hand and you blush brightly as you look down at his glistening top half.

“You did so good for me sweetheart. I can’t wait to see those pictures later. Fuck, you squirted all over me baby. Are you okay?” Namjoon asks as he rises from his knees and you lazily smile and nod. He lets your body go and your knees immediately buckle. Namjoon’s eyes widen but he quickly catches you, arms around your waist once again as he pulls you into his chest.

“Joonie… fucking…. amazing. I’ve never… fuck… can’t think” You stutter out and Namjoon chuckles, kissing your temple as he waits for you to get a hold of yourself. One arm lazily travels up and down your back and you feel the blissful feeling of love wash over you.

“I love you” You say lazily as you smile up at him and Namjoon grins, dimples popping out before he bends over and kisses you. You move your hand and palm at his dick as you finally begin gaining your wits about you.

“I want you. I want you in me, somewhere. Anywhere. I just need to feel you. Joonie please. Please” You beg and Namjoon tilts your chin up and kisses you hard. You moan as you taste yourself on his tongue and lips before you break the kiss, peppering kisses and suckling around his jaw as you taste yourself on his skin.

“Sit down, I want you to fuck my throat” You say, gesturing to the seat and Namjoon lets out a small groan. He quickly kicks off his boxers before taking a seat. Your eyes darken as you take him in, in all his glory. His deep golden tanned skin glistens with your juices in the light; and his muscular chest and toned arms are somewhat accentuated by the light reflecting off your cum. His thighs are thick, spread due to the seat under them and his cock stands proud between slightly spread thighs. His cockhead is purple and angry, and you swear you can see it twitch every now and then.

You lower onto your knees in between his legs, looking up at him as you palm at his dick. He was so hot and hard beneath your palm and so impossibly thick that even wrapped around his shaft, your fingers couldn’t touch each other. He was leaking with pre-cum, the sticky white substance pumping out of his slit and slicking his entire cockhead in his own arousal. You begin to pump the hand wrapped around his shaft up and down his length. Namjoon lets out a shuddering hiss as your wrist rubs his length, the pad of your thumb brushing against his precum covered slit as you spread his stickiness around more. It twitches under your touch, much like you had seen it do when he had sat down and you relish in the notion of having some semblance of control. It’s unusually rare for you to have this much control, Namjoon was always the more dominant one. But you had always savoured that, always revelled in how dominant and firm, yet soft he was with you.

“Don’t tease me baby, you know what happens when you do” Namjoon threatens lightly and your pussy clenches, undoubtedly dripping more of your juices onto the floor under you. And this is exactly what you meant. Even when you were in control, you weren’t. You had never and would never harbour any illusions of being able to overpower or be in control of your boyfriend. That being said, with the way he twitched and groaned under you as you palmed his cock, you knew that he was ready to explode and you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be torturing him. Consequences be damned.

You continued your languid pace, pressing soft kisses on his thick, tanned thighs, so close to his cock and yet so far. Namjoon watched you under half-lidded eyes, his smouldering gaze boring into you as the muscles in his jaw flexed. He raised his eyebrow slightly and you grinned, pressing another kiss onto his left thigh. A string of gooey pre-cum began exuding out of his slit, thick and slightly translucent white and you brushed your thumb against it before bringing it to your lips, licking his essence off of him. Namjoon’s throat rumbled in appreciation and you returned your hand to him, fisting his monstrous cock up and down. You lightly dug your nails into the sensitive flesh before you began raking them down, all the way to his balls, stimulating the sensitive sack. Namjoon let out another hiss, his head thrown back and fists clenched on either side.

“I thought you wanted to be a good for me baby? Thought you wanted me to fuck your throat like my good little slut” Namjoon says simply and your walls clench. He runs his fingers through your hair before firmly grabbing the locks, tugging at them and bringing your face closer to his dick. With that simple manoeuvre, he somehow has all the control back and you grip his shaft harder, pumping him up and down once before sticking your tongue out and swirling it around the tip of his still oozing cockhead. It twitches under you once again, and you swear you feel him pulse and grow even bigger and harder – if that was possible.

You lick at him again, eyes gazing up from on your knees, locked with his own smouldering gaze. Namjoon’s fingers lightly tug at your locks and you open your mouth in response, jaw stretched and just about wide enough to take his head in. You hold yourself there, lips suctioned around the mushroom tip while you continuously swirl your tongue and lightly suckle on him, tasting his essence in full on your tongue. His thick precum coats your tongue and you know you’ll be tasting him for a while after you stop fucking. Namjoon leans back slightly, pushing your head down further onto him while his own is thrown back and resting against the wall behind him.

You continue running your tongue up and down his shaft before slowly allowing him to split your jaw open as he pushes more and more of his cock into your wide-open mouth. You gently sucked more and more of him into you, almost gagging when his tip hits the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with tears and you hold yourself for a bit, waiting for it to subside. You’ve still got a few inches of his cock to go before he’s fully in your mouth and no matter how many times you had sucked him off, you never truly got used to his length or girth. The sensitivity between your legs was also slowly subsiding and your thighs squirmed slightly, wanting something to fill you up once again.

Once you adjusted more to him in your mouth, you pushed yourself down the final couple inches before your nose was pressed against his abdomen. You lightly tap Namjoon’s thigh, letting him know you were ready. And then it begins. Namjoon’s thighs flex and he thrusts up into your mouth. You gag slightly, reminding yourself to breathe through your nose as he begins thrusting in and out of your throat. He starts of slow, allowing you to get used to the feel of him slowly entering past the back of your throat but before long, his pace increases and he’s fucking into your throat hard and deep. Your finger nails dig into his thighs, leaving crescent shaped wells into his taught skin as he continues forcing himself down your throat.

“Fuck. Fuck, your mouth is so good. So- so… fucking hot… and w-wet. Shit, fuck baby. You’re- so good… for me. Only… for me. No one… not even Jaebum- can fuck your throat like this. Only me… only ever me” Namjoon groans, his voices stuttering as he revels in the euphoria of his hot, sensitive cock in your soft, velvety mouth. You can feel him twitch and pulse in your mouth and know he’s going to cum soon. One of your hands moves to play with his balls, slowly palming and rolling the sack in your hand, nails lightly racking it. His pace falters slightly before he thrusts particularly hard, burying his cock as deep into your throat as he can. You gag and choke, tears spilling down your cheek and faintly you hear the camera continuously click in the background.

And then he erupts. You hear him hiss and groan above you, hips lightly gyrating into your throat as his cock erupts. You taste and feel his hot, gloopy cum pump directly down your throat, clogging up your oesophagus. He cums so much, it floods back into your mouth and then you can taste his salty, slightly bitter cum. Namjoon’s fingers clench and unclench around your scalp, his breathing laboured as he comes back down from his high. You try your best to swallow as much as of his cum as you can, your eyes shutting as you relish in his taste. Once he’s finally spent, he pulls you off of his cock and you begin licking up the remnant of his cum around his cock.

When you’re done, Namjoon tugs your hair slightly and you open your eyes, looking up at him. When your vision comes into focus and your gazes lock, Namjoon seems to look at you with nothing but unbridled lust, only beaten by the sheer amount of love he holds in his eyes, all for you. Your eyes mirror his own gaze, the unspoken passion for each other alight on both your faces. Namjoon slowly lifts you up, pulling you so you’re straddling his lap. Your thighs are on either side of his legs and his cock is nestled in the crook of your thigh, incredibly close to your pussy.

“I really fucking love you” Namjoon says as his hand moves to the nape of your neck and then he pulls you in for a kiss. There’s no biting, or teasing, or tongues lashing against each other. You both simply lock lips and fall into sync as if you were destined for each other. He cups your face with one hand and holds you there, tongues dancing as he tastes himself on his own lips. Your hands move into his hair, messing up his sweat soaked locks as you pull him closer. The camera clicks in the background, but the two of you are too absorbed into each other to care. Then the kiss breaks natural as the two of you take a minute to catch your breaths.

“Are you ready? I need you inside me, please” You beg, the sensitivity in your cunt had long since faded and now you were consumed with the need to have him inside you.

“God, I need to be inside you. But I want you to face the camera, I want to capture the way you look when you first slide down my cock, the way I fill up and stretch out that pretty little cunt” Namjoon says as he spins you around to face the camera. Your legs are still in either side of him and you groan at the screen. The both of you are in perfect position for the camera to see everything. You notice you have twenty-three seconds till the next photo. Your fingers wrap around his shaft and you hover over his tip, rubbing the copious amount of slick all over his cockhead. He’s completely drenched in both, your arousal, and the remnants of his own cum, precum and your saliva. You’re both sticky, sweaty and messy but it only serves in turning you on more.

“Look at the camera for me sweetheart. I want you to keep watching it when I finally slide into this delicious cunt of yours” Namjoon says, his voice deep and croaky. The thick of his cockhead threatens to push into you and he groans when your hole flutters around it, spasming to try and draw him in. Namjoon’s face buries into your neck, but his gaze stays on your face in the display screen of the photo booth. His fingers grip your hips, pads digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he suckles the soft, tender skin just under your ear, by your jaw.

The timer begins counting down and you slowly guide him in. You rub his head all over your wet lips, knowing that your orgasms will have made you tighter and thus he’s going to have to stretch you out with his cock again. You stammer out his name when his cockhead brushes your clit. You relax your muscles as much as possible and then slowly slide down his girth. Your breath labours and your eyes screw shut at the stinging pain of him stretching you out. It hurt a lot worse than when he stretched you out with his three fingers but a lot less than if he hadn’t and if you weren’t as soaked as you were. His girth is so absurdly thick that you can feel your cunt muscles protesting the stretch. You hear the camera click and try to focus on that to take your mind off of him stretching you.

“Fuck Joonie…” You wince out in pain and Namjoon’s fingers splay over your hips as he peppers tender kisses comfortingly all over the back of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry baby. I should have stretched you again after you came. Do we need to stop?” Namjoon asks and you shake your head, not wanting to stop. You know that once he’s in you and adjusted it will all be fine, you just need to get through the initial burn. You bite your lip hard and choke out a sob as his bulbous cockhead finally squeezes into you with a pop. You lean back, his chest pressed tightly against your back as he pulls your hips down slowly, lowering you onto his cock and filling you up, your cunt protesting the stretch.

“How are you so big Namjoon, fuck- you’re tearing me up” You cry and Namjoon kisses under your jaw, the only bit of comfort he can offer you. It definitely hurts, but there’s pain in the pleasure and you feel yourself growing wetter. Although you’re never sure if it’s because of the pleasure or just your body trying to accommodate his girth for an easier transition.

Your hands slide to your breasts, playing with the fleshy mounds as he continues stretching out the walls of your pussy. You can feel every ridge, every single inch of him as he slowly opens you up. A sob of both pain and pleasure wracks through your throat and you gasp in and out, breathing deeply as he pushes further and further into you. Finally, he thrusts slightly and ploughs the last few inches into you, sliding in easily due to how wet the both of you are. His head jams against your cervix and your hand involuntarily moves to your abdomen when you can feel him so deep inside you. He slowly pulls out and then slides back in, bottoming into you and your pussy gushes, releasing another burst of wetness.

“What did I say sweet? Look at the camera” Namjoon says as he slowly begins to fuck into you. He’s in as deep as he can go and his pace is slowly picking up as your walls adjust to him. The pain is slowly dulling and the next time he drives into you; he forces a cry of pleasure from your throat. Your hands move behind you to thread into his hair. With every one of his plunges, he’s pressing harder and harder than he had before. You gasp and whine with every movement; there’s definite pleasure now mixed with the pain, the ecstasy and euphoria of feeling him inside you slowly taking over. He was so thick that he dragged your clit and g-spot with every shift of his hips, his blunt, mushroom head pressing and rubbing against for g-spot every time he pulled out and drove into you.

“Joon… Joonie- fuck, feels good” You mewl above him and Namjoon smirks against your neck, his eyes focused on the way he enters in and out of you on the photo booth screen. His cock twitches as he realises he’ll be able to take the photos home to view whenever he wants. Namjoon begins grunting as he thrusts faster, harder and much more vigorously into you. He forces the breath out of your lungs with each and every ramming movement inside you. The pressure of your orgasm was once again building inside of you. The slow burn of the heat inside your belly began pooling once again and your skin begins tingling and prickling with heat, your toes curling in euphoric bliss.

“This is so fucking hot baby. You’re so good to me. You see that? See how I stretch your cunt out? No one can fuck you like me. No one can make you feel this good. You’re cumming aren’t you? I can feel it. I can feel. Each. And every. Time. Your pussy. Clenches” Namjoon says, punctuating each of his words with a hard, well placed thrust against your g-spot. One of his hands moves to press against your abdomen, forcing you to feel him even more as his thumb begins strumming your clit. You wail his name, too far gone to care if anyone can hear you now.

“You like that? Does my precious little cock slut like when I fuck her like this? Yeah baby? You love it don’t you. You don’t even care if people outside can hear you. You don’t care that a camera is over there, taking pictures of what a good little slut you are for me. In fact, you’re even wetter. You’ve never been more wet in your life. I want you to be louder for me though baby. I want you to scream my name when you cum. So that everyone out there, so that Jaebum knows who this pussy belongs to” Namjoon says, one hand gripping your hip tighter as the other plays with your clit even more.

His words make you cry out and clench under him. You can feel the ebb of your orgasm approaching nearer and nearer with every one of his deep thrusts. He’s fucking into you so hard and deep that you can’t focus on anything other than the feel of him buried as deep into you as he can go. He batters your cervix with every drive of his hips and you’re a mumbling, shuddering mess. His thumb and forefinger suddenly pinch your clit as he bites your neck and your toes curl. You wail out his name, your throat hoarse and pricking with a stinging pain. And then you cum.

“Fuck that’s it” Namjoon says as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your cunt spasms uncontrollably and you gush around his cock, squirting for the second time. You continuously wail out his name, not caring if people can hear you and it eggs Namjoon on more, his cock forcing you open even though your walls are trying to clench around him and deny him entry with your orgasm. You roll your hips on top off him as your thighs shake automatically, quaking with the after effects of your orgasm. Namjoon slowly slows down his thrusts before stopping all of a sudden. You gasp in for air, catching your breath and your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember them shutting.

“Stand up and brace yourself against the wall again” Namjoon says, patting your ass and you do so. Namjoon’s cock draws out from the sheath of your body with a wet squelch and he slowly holds you as you stand on shaky knees. Your palms spread out on either side of the camera and once again you’re in the same position you were before. You waver for a minute, knees buckling slightly before catching yourself and holding your body up by bracing against the wall the camera is built into. Namjoon grabs you by the hips once again and bends you over slightly. He picks up one of your legs and hooks it around his elbow.

The smell of the air is permeated with sex and sweat; your musky scents entangling with each other. The air is only just about rendered from being stuffy due to the daft from the closed photo booth curtain. You look at yourself in the camera. You’re both a mess, hair plastered to your faces, Namjoon’s entire body dripping with a mix of his own sweat and your drying cum. Swear drips down from his hair to his shoulder and down his perfectly defined chest. You follow the trail with your eyes before your eyes are led to between your legs. Your thighs are soaked and with one of your legs propped up on Namjoon’s arm, there’s nothing to be covered.

You’re swollen and puffy and slightly fucked open from his huge cock. The evidence of the damage his girth and rough thrusts had done to your body are as clear as day. There are even slight bruises forming on your hips and between your thighs. You watch Namjoon drag his cock between your pussy lips and your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure mixed with the pain of the oversensitivity. He rubs the shaft of his cock against your lips, gathering more of your slick before placing his head at your entrance and pushing in. You’re both at the perfect angle for the camera to capture how well he stretches you open. You gasp in unison, eyes focused on where he’s slowly fucking you open once again until he bottoms out and fills you completely. The angle lets him do deeper, hitting all the sweet spots inside your pussy.

“Fucking hell babe. Baby… you’re pussy feels so damn god. I’m going to cum soon… but I’m not done with this cunt just yet” Namjoon warns, thrusting into you hard to emphasise his point.

“Fuck. Me. Hard” You whisper, letting each one of his thrusts punctuate your words. Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice and the next one of his thrusts causes your vision to turn dark, white spots blinding you. Namjoon yanks your hair back, exposing your neck to him as he bruises it with more of his kisses. You’re convinced that there’s no way you’d be able to hide any of his hickeys. He’s probably left them all over your neck and shoulders at this point. Namjoon begins riding you furiously, watching the way your ass bounces on his cock with each one of his thrusts. One of his hands clutches your tit, the other keeping your leg propped up as he fucks as deep, hard and fast into you as he can go. The entire time, his lips are just by your neck, kissing and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he ensures your pussy would never be the same again.

“You like this don’t you, my little slut. You like the way I ride your pussy hard. You like this fat cock stretching you open” Namjoon groans, his words sending waves of pleasure straight to your belly. You moan an affirmative and Namjoon chuckles dark and throatily.

“Press your belly. I want you to feel me fucking you. Want you to feel deep me in you, where no one else can be. Where Jaebum could never be” Namjoon orders and you do as you’re told, knowing you could never defy him. You press into your stomach and can feel the way he thrusts into you, the way his cock pushes your insides around inside your abdomen every time he rams into you. You press down harder so you can feel him more deeply and he hisses as you spasm involuntarily, the action making him feel even tighter inside you. You arch your back slightly and the movement allows Namjoon to hit slightly deeper, a feat you thought impossible.

You began thrusting back towards him, your ass bouncing off of his hips and the slapping sound of impacting sweaty skin fills the air along with the squelching of your pussy. Your tits bounced in Namjoon’s hand with every bounce as you fucked yourself back on his cock. You moved your hand a little lower to play with your clit while still pressing into your belly. Your leg that was propped up was slowly going numb, but you didn’t care. You were too consumed by the ecstatic delirium of Namjoon’s cock in you. Your orgasm started building once again and you were both anticipating and dreading it. You were already losing your energy and you weren’t sure what would happen if you came once again before Namjoon. You know him and you know Namjoon loves drawing out an orgasm from you when he cums. You bounce harder, clenching your cunt around him, anything to try and get him to cum quiver and join you.

“Fuck, I’m close baby” Namjoon groan out and you silently thank the heavens as you continue your efforts. You’re practically running on fumes at this point, but the oncoming orgasm paired with Namjoon’s keeps you going. You clench repeatedly and Namjoon groans. He grips your hips tighter and starts fucking into you so fast and hard that his balls start slapping against you. The added stimulation has you hurtling into your next and hopefully last orgasm. You had already lost count of the amount of times Namjoon had made you cum. His huge cock pushes you over the edge and once again you start crying and sobbing, your palms clenching into fists. Tears once again pool into your eyes and you’re crying freely.

“Yes! Fuck… fuck Namjoon! Shit” You scream at the top of your voice as you cum once again. Namjoon feels you grow wet once again and he groans under you. Your body shakes with the forces of your contraction and you clamp down as tightly as it was possible for your pussy around Namjoon’s cock with a shuddering wail. Namjoon’s rhythm falters and his hips start moving in a stilted fashion, rutting deep into you as he begins cumming.

Namjoon bucks underneath you, pulling your hips closer to him, his face buried in your neck as he grunts and moans throatily. You barely register what is happening, too absorbed in Namjoon’s huge cock in your blissfully beaten pussy and the way your skin prickles, the way your toes curl, the way your eyes roll into the back of your skull and the way you’re quivering underneath him with the force of your orgasm. Namjoon holds you tightly to him and with one last thrust he buries himself as deep into you as he can go. When your orgasm finally subsides and your senses come back into you; you feel the hot spurts of Namjoon’s cum shooting deep into you, coating your walls white with his thick cum. He cums so much that you can feel it flood back out of you with each and every one of his smaller thrusts. You allow Namjoon to catch himself, enjoying the feel of him cumming in you. When he’s finally spent, he slowly pulls out of you and you moan at the feel of him dripping out of you.

“Fuck, look at that pussy. I can see my cum drip out of your pussy. Look at it baby, look at how I’ve marked you as mine” Namjoon says and you direct your gaze to the photobooth screen once again. You look at your dishevelled state, your matted messy hair, neck and shoulders bruised with hickeys. You trail down your body and towards your pussy where you see his cum flood out of you, dripping onto the floor as the camera takes pictures of your ruined, cum filled cunt. Namjoon’s free hand pushes his fingers into your pussy, pushing his cum in and out of your cunt and you hiss at the action as he plays with the cum inside you.

He finally lets your propped-up leg go, instead pulling your chest against his back so your face is once more in the frame. The two of you stare at your mirror images as Namjoon sticks his fingers in your mouth, feeding him the mix of your cum. You eagerly swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking his digits as you eat his cum. Namjoon groans before pulling his fingers out. He spins you around to face him and grabs your ass, the other hand cupping your face as he kisses you. The kiss is lazy, tongues languidly pressing into each other before you both pull away. Namjoon, however, repeatedly presses lazy, tender kisses against your lips. You smile up at him and once again hear the camera click.

“Fuck, that was so good” Namjoon says and you giggle, nodding your agreement before you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes shutting as your exhausted body catches up with you.

“Joonie, I’m so tired” You whine and Namjoon laughs. He holds you tightly, pressing kisses into the crown of your head before slowly sitting you down on the seat. He turns around to the camera and stops it from taking pictures before clicking finish and causing the booth to begin printing the photos. There was no way he wasn’t going to have those photos, even if he’d have to hide them somewhere where no one can find them. He’d be damned if he let anyone else see you like this.

While he’s waiting for the countless photos to print, he pulls his jeans on, stuffing his boxers and your ruined panties into his pocket before throwing his shirt on haphazardly. When he’s dressed, he begins tending to you. He slowly slides your jeans on and you groan with protest when the rough material of the denim brushes against your still sensitive core. Namjoon apologises with a soft kiss on the middle of your forehead before he slips your bra on, followed by your shirt. He slowly begins buttoning you up, from the last button to the top, pressing tender kisses to your skin, from your stomach up to your chest until he buttons the last one, where he kisses your lips.

“Come on baby. We just have to sneak into my room okay? I promise you can sleep as long as you want then, but we just have to slip out without anyone noticing us okay?” Namjoon says and you pout but nod. Namjoon grabs your hand and picks you up. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, letting you lean on him. Namjoon turns to the photos, thankful that they’ve all printed. He grabs them, making sure they’re in a neat pile before he hands them to you. You hold them tightly as Namjoon peaks out of the curtain, checking to see if the coast is clear. However, when he lets out a small ‘fuck’ and ducks back in you’re slightly worried. You open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when you’re cut off.

“Just come out you guys. It’s not like we don’t know you guys just fucked in there” Yoongi says and your eyes pop wide open. Your face flushes in heat and you turn to Namjoon, looking at him in fear. His own cheeks are flushed and his eyes are shut as she shakes his head and mutters to himself.

“I’m sorry baby” Namjoon says and you shake your head, knowing you were just as much to be blamed, if not more considering how loud you’d been. You grab his hand and entwine your fingers before you squeeze in reassurance. Namjoon brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it.

“We’ll just face them together, okay?” You say quietly and Namjoon nods. He leans over and kisses you once again.

“No more bubble you know? No more quiet nights all alone in your apartment” Namjoon whispers against your lips and you shrug with a tender smile.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if it’s in my apartment alone, or surrounded by all our friends or even in a photo booth. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where I am” You confess and Namjoon’s eyes soften with all the love he has for you.

“I love you” Namjoon says, kissing your lips once again.

“I love you too Joon” You reply and then Namjoon opens the curtain and pulls you both out. Your skin heats up as you realise the entirety of your friendship group are sitting on the opposite end of the rooftop in a little circle.

The music had been turned off and the guests had all cleared out. Suri looked at you, her eyebrow cocked and you knew you were in a world of trouble for hiding your relationship from her from her expression. Sooji laughs at your clear embarrassment while Seokjin looks away out of respect. Sooyun looks slightly guilty and yelps, hiding behind Hoseok when Namjoon’s eyes narrow at her. Jungkook and Jimin are just staring at Namjoon is a mix of both awe and wonder, and you instantly knew they were already idolising him for this little stint. Yoongi looked at you in exasperation while Taehyung and Yena were nowhere to be found; they had most likely gone home. You squeeze Namjoon’s hand once again and slowly walk over to the group with shaky legs. Your knees buckle and you almost stumble, Namjoon catching you and allowing you to lean on him.

“So, when did this happen?” Suri asks, her arms crossed in front of her as she interrogates you.

“Can we explain another time please? Like tomorrow. ____ is tired and I’d rather just get her to bed” Namjoon says with a sigh and Jungkook snickers.

“It definitely looks like you tired her out. That poor girl, look at the state of her” Jimin says with a tut and Namjoon shrugs as you blush.

“It’s nothing she didn’t enjoy” Namjoon replies simply.

“Oh yeah, we know. We heard her. We had to ask everyone to leave. Didn’t know you had such an exhibition kink” Yoongi deadpans and you shuffle further into Namjoon, trying to use his large body as your shield. Hoseok then whistles, noticing the photos you were holding.

“Damn Joon, didn’t know you were freaky enough to take photos of you guys fucking. Although, that wasn’t why I hired the photo booth in the first place, but I told you it’d be fun right” Hoseok winks and Namjoon glares at him, effectively shutting him up.

“Yeah, except now it’ll need to be cleaned before we can return it and get the deposit back” Jin says with a sigh and both you and Namjoon apologise, promising to clean it out tomorrow.

“Umm, I’m sorry for trying to set her up with Jaebum” Sooyun stutters and Namjoon smirks at her.

“Oh, you’re not off the hook for that just yet. But it’s fine. He could never have her anyway. And I have the photos to prove it. Now, like I said, ____ really needs to sleep. So, we’ll see you guys tomorrow” Namjoon says and he then bids all his friends goodbye as he pulls you into the apartment, leading you into his bedroom. He sits you down on his bed and asks you to strip. Meanwhile, he walks over to his draw and pulls out a shirt for you and a pair of clean boxers for himself. He pulls the shirt over your head before stripping and slipping the boxers onto him.

He lays you down underneath his cover before sliding in on the other side. You turn around and wrap intertwine your legs with his, your head resting on his hard chest. Namjoon’s hand moves to rest on your hip, soothingly rubbing up and down as he presses a kiss onto the crown of your head. You smile lazily, snuggling further into him. You hear the rhythmic pounding of his heart right under your ear and the beat of his heart slowly lulls you into a slumber, the exhaustion finally taking over.

A/N: So yeah, that happened.

Masterlist

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killian-whump · 4 years

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Hi! I recently read a post about this person not feeling the CS energy anymore. I don't either. I mean, I'm a big MSR fan and to this day I have a pic of them as my cell wallpaper and I ocasionally watch MSR videos on YouTube and I still get that tingly feeling every time. I was a HUGE CS fan but the feeling is fading away. Maybe the ship isn't aging well or maybe it's the fandom itself? I thought I was the only one experiencing this but I see I'm not. What do you think? Still love Colin tho. :(

Honestly, I think it’s just a natural phenomenon... and an inevitable one, too.

A lot of it comes down to firsts. The blush of first love. The first read of a great book. The first kiss. The first day of school. The first “I love you”. Firsts come once in a lifetime, and they are thrilling and exciting because they’ve never happened before. Oh, sure, millions upon millions of people have kissed in the world, but never before has this person kissed this person. And yes, you’ve read hundreds of stories in your life, but you’ve never read this one so you don’t know how it's going to turn out.

Incidentally, this is the problem a lot of books/shows have when it comes to canon ships. People get so excited for the firsts, and they want them to happen and beg for them to come... but once those firsts are done, the audience loses interest in the subsequent events. The first kiss might get a million more people to tune in... but the second kiss will render hardly a blip.

And so it is with ships in general. When you first “meet” them, they’re so exciting and thrilling, you’re just completely consumed by them. It’s like that wildly romantic and all-consuming period that starts off every real life relationship. And in this stage, it’s easy to overlook problems. It’s easy to ignore the faults and focus on the positive. But eventually... that period fades. It’s natural, of course, and inevitable. And when it happens, well, that’s when most relationships either fall apart... or develop into something deeper and richer.

But here’s the thing: A successful real life relationship doesn’t end. It continues, changes, evolves, and stays relevant for the rest of one’s life. Fictional ships, on the other hand... they DO end. The book runs out of pages. The show gets cancelled. The credits roll. It’s over. Sure, you can imagine how it would change and evolve and maintain its relevance after that point... but no matter how deeply you invest yourself in those imaginings, they’ll never be real. Ultimately, you’re left with recycled firsts (here’s their first kiss again... this time in space!) and complete fabrications (their third child was adopted from Agrabah...).

And eventually... Well, even those become old. You’ve already read about their first kiss in space, and in ancient Rome, and in high school, and in college, and in a coffee shop, and in a castle... and it’s not that you don’t like the couple, or that you no longer think they’re perfect for each other... It’s just that they’re not exciting anymore. And, unlike real life relationships that lose their excitement, they don’t evolve into something deeper, because they’re over.

They stagnate.

Again, this is completely natural... and inevitable. There are those who would claim it isn’t, but that’s probably just because they haven’t experienced it enough times for themselves yet. Eventually, they will... and then they’ll understand. But in the meantime, denying the inevitability and sheer naturalness of the phenomenon does more harm than good. People who try to FIGHT it, who force themselves to maintain the same level of investment once the stagnation begins... they’re only going to one day realize the only thing they’ve achieved is to turn a stagnating interest into a resented interest. What once gave them inordinate pleasure now leaves them feeling completely unfulfilled - and bitter about the time and energy they expended on trying to maintain an interest that was coming to its own natural decline.

So how do you prevent that? You let the thing stagnate. You accept that its lost its luster and no longer excites you. It’s not that it’s a bad thing or there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just that you don’t feel like reading about it or writing about it or blogging about it or talking about it or whatever... and that’s okay. You have to give yourself permission to set it aside for however long you want or need to. And then, if/when you DO come back to it... it will be with fondness and warmth - not resentment and obligation.

So no, Nonny. It’s not the ship itself, or the fandom, or even you. It’s just natural. Once ended - Captain Swan ended - years ago. It will never die, and there will always be fans and shippers (new and old), but it IS over. There’s no more firsts. No more excitement. It will never be as great as it once was. People will grow tired of it and drift away. They’ll scatter off to other shows and other ships, like dandelion seeds in the wind. It’s inevitable. Part of life.

C’est la vie <3

#fandom #shipping #not whxmp #anonymous #kw ask box

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “John Wick” Part 3

Y/N left The Organization 3 years ago for the one reason strong enough to make her settle down: love. But after tragedy crushed her to pieces, she decided to leave The Joker and seek refuge with an old friend and mentor - John Wick. Needless to say The King of Gotham can’t accept his wife running away without a word, especially since he didn’t have a chance to tell her things she might want to hear.

Part 1 Part 2

The Joker listens at the bedroom’s door, impatient to have a conversation with you. It seems you are engaged into a fervent phone call with Winston and figured he shouldn’t interrupt.

“Please, anything you can discover would be a great help! U-hum… U-hum… Thank you,” and you hang up, which queues your husband to walk into the room.

You completely ignore him, scrolling through the numerous text messages you sent to your connections; several are already answering back and hopefully you can get some news soon. The more people are involved into the project, the more chances to find Kase and untangle the mystery of what happened to him after he was removed from the car.

“You left me there,” The Joker sneaks in and closes the door behind him. “Luckily we had Wick with us so he gave me a ride.”

No reaction. He takes a deep breath, trying to get your awareness.

“I didn’t sleep with Evelyn; sex wasn’t the reason why I kept visiting her. I know how that asshole made it sound and he was totally out of line!”

You quickly glance at him, busy replying to Ares since you feel you’re going to explode soon.

“The only skill I was interested in is the fact that she is an excellent painter and a popular art smuggler, OK?” J raises his voice, sort of annoyed you neglect to participate into his monologue. “I did not cheat, alright?” he approaches his wife. “First of all: I’m VERY picky! Second of all: why would I want a woman everyone else had?! I don’t like used toys. Third: nobody’s been polishing my gun as you tastefully addressed the issue! I have one Queen and I married her!!”

A little bit of doubt in your eyes and he utilizes the opportunity.

“You said you saw me going to her house? I did! The Bowery King asked if it was for the last 6 months? Yeah, I did! You know why?!”

At least now The Joker got your attention: you play it cool but he guesses you’re torn apart by his confession.

Many unfortunate events crammed in lately and hating the man you love made life infinitely more unbearable.

“Why…?” you barely muster the strength to inquire and he sees it as a possibility to mend a few broken pieces; although you can hide your emotions well, J can still read between the lines.

Maybe that’s why he answers with another question:

“Do you realize there are just three Monet paintings in circulation on the black market in the entire world? You admire his work and it took a lot of effort and a substantial fortune to acquire The Water Lily Pond painting. Evelyn Black helped with the transaction, then I had her make some modifications to the original masterpiece.”

You keep staring at The King of Gotham, uncertain about the stuff being tossed your way: is he lying or telling the truth?... In your line of work translating feelings is a huge part of the job; ultimately you had the best mentor to teach you the ropes when you started with the organization: none other than the legendary Baba Yaga. Despite his reputation and to your own amazement, John was one of the few hitmen with integrity and perfectly mastered the aptitude of not being a jerk. Such a rare gem… And blissfully unaware of it himself.

On the opposite end, The Joker is a jerk and flawlessly acquainted with his own “captivating” personality that made you fall in love with him anyway.

Also, doesn’t appear to be deceitful for the moment.

And you despise yourself even more for wanting to believe him.

“What… modifications?...” you throw him a bone and J is definitely not going to pass on the alternative of explaining his actions.

“I wanted to surprise you so I took advantage of Miss Black’s capabilities in the art field; I had her add small images to the authentic canvas: an evolution of you being pregnant, the nine frames culminating with a tenth: the new mother holding our son. Similar to a timeline,” he emphasize and you look intrigued, which might be a positive sign. “Needless to say it was tedious, difficult work, especially because she had to apply special pigments you can’t find at every corner of the street. Apparently you can’t mix old paint with contemporary shades, thus I had to order aged, special colors from Italy, Spain and France. That’s why I went to her place so often: I had to supervise the long process and make sure it turns out astonishing. Then…” and The Joker pauses,”…Kase was gone and I didn’t know what to do with my gift: bring it home or not? Would you have loved it? Would it make you sadder? I continued to drive to Evelyn’s and glare at the stupid painting for hours, undecided on what to do…”

J watches you bite on your cheek, then straightens his shoulders as you utter the words:

“… … … You ruined a genuine Monet?”

Your spouse might be a smooth talker when needed, yet he’s not wasting his versatility on this statement:

“I didn’t ruin it; I made it better!”

Silence from both parties. A good or bad omen? Hard to decipher the riddle with two individuals tangled into a relationship that somehow worked despite countless peculiarities meant to keep them apart.

“I have to talk to Jonathan,” you finally mutter and The Joker steps in front of you.

“Talk to me!”

“Unless you know the exact location of the suitcase full of gold coins he’s been safekeeping for me, I really have to speak to him. Or do you want to hammer the whole basement searching for it?”

Y/N walks out of the bedroom and J lingers inside, evesdropping on the conversation happening downstairs. He can’t understand the chat, but you are probably notifying John about the details your husband left out.

Might as well join the party, therefore The Clown pops up in the living room with a plea impossible to refuse:

“Hey Wick, can I stay here? I don’t care if you say no, I’m not going to leave.”

Your friend crosses his arms on his chest, focusing on the random topic:

“How could I deny such a polite request? Of course you can stay Mister Joker; my house is your house.”

You’re watching the free show unamused; usually it would make you smile…now you lack the depth for such connotations.

“Don’t get smart with me, Wick!” J growls and Jonathan pushes for a tiny, unnecessary quarrel.

“I’m not; although generally speaking, I fancy considering myself a smart guy.”

The Joker opens his mouth and you’re not in the mood for whatever the heck they’re initiating:

“I’m going to pump, then after you dig out the suitcase I’ll take half to the Bowery King,” you announce your plans to them.

“You can do that and rest; I’ll deliver the coins,” John immediately offers. “I can stop by Aurelio’s car shop and ask for his collaboration: he has a lot of associates, doesn’t hurt to get him involved. You have plenty of gold.”

“I have two more suitcases in the Continental’s safe and two more at The Penthouse. It doesn’t matter if it’s all gone as long as I can find my son.”

“I know gold coins are preferred; don’t forget we have a lot of money too,” J reckons with spite.

Is he reminding you or Jonathan?...

*************

Your husband spent the last hour in the garden, talking and texting with a lot of people; needless to mention he’s capitalizing on his network also. Winston disclosed Stonneberg’s contract is still opened, meaning the son of a bitch is out there; you have to scoop him before anybody else does.

“Y/N…” The Joker tiptoes in your quarters. “I thought you were taking a nap,” he huffs when he sees you at the edge of the bed.

You glare at the vial on the nightstand, sharing your idea for a future you wish will come true:

“I didn’t have my medicine in two days; I won’t take it anymore because if we get Kase back… I will nurse him. It all goes in the milk and I want to be able to feed my baby… Do you think his little heart is still beating?...” you sniffle and J is currently debating on a clever response since his mind is blank; one could deduce messing up is encoded in his DNA, but on such a huge scale… well, it gives new interpretations to the term even for him.

The grieving woman seeking reassurance for their loss is trying to make sense of the pointless occurrences that lead to Kase being an innocent victim and The Joker can’t render clarification: he has no clue why he asked her to marry him and why she said yes, it’s not that he’s husband material or a family man. Perhaps Y/N thought he could be… just enough to get by, that’s why she accepted his proposal.

Most women would have cringed at the concept. Most women. Not Y/N.

Most women would have flinched at the notion of having his baby. Most women. Not his wife.

Above all, she trusted J with their son and he treated the three weeks old like a trinket: didn’t drive him home because he had an important meeting, didn’t bother to assign escorting cars nor extra security. The King of Gotham took his child’s safety lightly and it definitely had severe consequences. Too late now to fix past mistakes... but he can attempt.

“You’ll be able to nurse him, OK?” he sits by you and hands over his cell. “Can you enter your phone number in here? Or am I not allowed to have the present digits?”

You’re hesitant and he slides the screen while you hold the gadget.

“Lemme help you,” The Joker sarcastically mumbles. “It should be the first on my list, right where the old number you canceled was.”

You exhale and fulfill his demand out of pure frustration when he squeezes in a second innocent petition.

“Chose my avatar.”

You grunt at his rubbish, scrolling through his folders for a picture anyway; J hopes the largest file will get your attention and that’s the point. How could Y/N miss it?!

Entitled “Baby”, the humongous cluster of pics contains 5,723 items. You open it quite absorbed by its size; what’s more puzzling is the collection depicting Kase’s ultrasounds, hundreds of frames with you being pregnant taken without you knowing: there’s a few when your ankles were so swollen you had to sleep with your feet up on 4 pillows, others with you munching on strange food you craved, more with you in the shower focused on your bump, a decent amount of couple selfies when you were sleeping and J had to immortalize the moment without waking you up and approximately 1,500 images of the newborn.

“You didn’t gross me out when you were pregnant,” The Joker reminds a teary Y/N. “Not sure why you would believe such aberration...” he pulls you on his knees and yanks the phone away, tossing it on the nightstand. “I would also like to underline I didn’t have an affair with Miss Black, alright?”

J lifts your chin up, forcing to look at him.

“Let’s put it this way: why would I fuck around with another woman when I have a wife at home that wants to kill me on a regular basis, hm? Where would the fun be? I mean, she didn’t pull the trigger yet but it’s exciting to hope she might. You know me: I’m a sucker for thrills!”

“Do I?”

“Huh?” J steals a kiss and you frown at his sleekness.

“Know you?”

“Yeah,” the green haired Clown acts composed while in fact his feathers are ruffled. Before you catch onto it he has to ultimately admit: “I’m sorry I didn’t drive the car… I should have…”

The Joker holds in his breath when your arms go around his neck very tight.

“I’m suffocating…” he grumbles. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to hug me or choke me to death,” J keeps on caressing your hair, prepared to block your attack in case you’re actually in killing mode.

This is the excitement he was speaking about: with you, one could never know until it’s a done deal.

“I bumped into Magnus at the Continental,” you give him a bit of space to inhale much needed air and The Joker is surprised at your revelation. “I had no idea about his scheme, otherwise I would have skinned him alive right on the hotel grounds! I wouldn’t have cared about the consequences!”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” J cuts you off and he can tell you’re getting mad; maybe you think he doesn’t give a damn but the reason is simple. “You would’ve been declared excommunicado for murder on neutral ground and I don’t want my wife to be the target of such punishment from the company she so proudly retired from. I need my partner!”

The King of Gotham touches your forehead with his as you whisper:

“I hate you!”

“Mmm, regarding this true love affirmation, I’m gonna need you to take a break from detesting me until we have Kase, then you can despise me full throttle again. Deal?” he extends the palm of his hand and you reluctantly shake it, not realizing you’re reacting to his nonsense. “Is that a smile?” J returns the favor with one of his creepy silver grins.

“No.”

“Liar,” he pecks your lips and can’t explain the weird feeling in his heart when you kiss him back.

*************

Jonathan enters the house and becomes suspicious after a few minutes: too much silence.

Omg! Did you and The Joker engaged into a brawling that ended up badly? Did you end each other?!

John frantically runs to the garage, nervous to see your car and J’s are still parked inside. Shit!

“Y/N?” he shouts, concerned about your fate; The Joker’s… irrelevant. Nobody in the garden, patio is empty also. Downstairs is deserted thus he rushes upstairs to your room. The door is not completely shut and he slowly pushes it, knocking.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

The first thing he notices are clothes scattered on the floor, then he halts his movement at the sight of Y/N and her husband dozing off on the bed sideways: the naked bodies are covered with a blanket, but he can tell you’re snuggled in J’s arms.

Jonathan steps backwards, guilty of invading his guests’ privacy; he certainly didn’t expect to intrude in such a manner and softly closes the door, grateful it’s not what he feared.

You and The Joker are so worn out the sound of your phones vibrating on the nightstand doesn’t wake you from the deep sleep. Your numerous contacts keep replying back to the text messages, the most important one showing up on his cell: one of the people J reached to is Evelyn Black and the two sentence conversation lights up the screen.

“Let me know if you see Stonnenberg.”

“He’s here.”