agnes

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

[jsongprk]

アゴー⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

: ̗̀➛MASTERLIST ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛GET TO KNOW ME ˎˊ- ↓

bmf!!➛ tiktok- @jsongpark

: ̗̀➛i write fics as a plus to writing my own books and i am also a student.. so updates may be very irregular!

: ̗̀➛ i take any requests!-- please dont hesitate to send an ask, request or not!! ....but am currently writing for only enhypen and maybe cortis, and will not be writing any smut for the latter!

this is for all of my three (3) readers IM CRYING

[jsongprk]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ oh dear, HR?

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you and jay have been coworkers forever, but when you-- a work-obsessed lonely woman starts to recognise your feelings, a night out changes everything.

wc: 1.5k

genre/warnings: smut, creampie, unprotected sex, jay x reader, colleague relationship, sorta babying, recommended to read w jazz music in the back 🫣

a/n: small oneshot for tn, i have a few longer works i just cant get done soo.... writers block kicking my ass. who else loves dada jay!!!! not proofread.. once again..

the slow hum, the golden lights, the deep tone of the slender bartender should’ve helped more to soothe your nerves, dull the buzz so ever present in your mind. but the reality had to set in, at some point or other, it was awfully evident now as you sat in such a place like this— you hadn’t gone out in weeks. not if it wasn’t work related. and now you were lonely.

it was a bone too hard to chew. work had always been there, always been able to distract yourself from anything. most times such distraction wasn’t necessary, you had never found yourself so needy for anything other than a call back from your boss, a reminder on a project from a colleague.

usually, your wants from your ‘work friends’ were just that— work related. you had never thought of any of them as anything more than placeholders in that dull office you loved so dearly.

so, clearly, an even harder bone to chew was the fact that now you wanted more. from a very specific placeholder.

park jongseong.

never liked that name, he preferred jay— the fact you wish you knew about him.

you only ever discovered his real name one late overtime night when you had got so awfully caught up in the annoyance that you really didn’t know him.

and you really, really wanted to.

so, for the first time ever, you texted that old college friend, asked him for a date, and hoped to maybe get dicked down. anything to take your mind off him.

but he never showed.

the most annoying part is that the bar is actually quite nice, you would’ve liked to spend time here with at least someone you knew.

but now, your nerves were no longer over meeting up with someone you hadn’t seen in ages, dreading the possible awkward-ness of it all. no, now your skin started to feel awfully warm, not because of the alcohol trickling down your throat, but because of the stupidly radiant presence of jay park.

just a few seats across, there he sat. his sharp jawline, his perfect nose, his eyes slightly hidden under his glasses, and those stupid forearms peaking out under his rolled sleeves, all glistening beautifully under the warm, comforting— sexy— lighting and the courage-building, confidence-enlightening jazz music.

not for you though, god no. you could never just walk up to him, ask him what he was doing here, and make dumb small talk with a grown man you mutter a greeting to every morning and a drool offering every evening.

not literally of course. however, sometimes those insta posts you found on accident are too tempting to resist.

it would seem, as his eyes catch yours just briefly before you manage to fascinate yourself with the structural integrity of the bar, that he was capable of falling for the stupid ambience’s seductiveness.

in other words, he decided to approach you—his barely known coworker.

“y/n, its nice to see you here.” he greeted, his voice awfully velvety.

“likewise, jay. what- what brings you here?” right, sure the nerves aren’t showing now, you think.

“boss set up a teams’ get together, didn’t you see the message? it was in our group chat. i assumed you were here because of that.” right. you refused to check anything work related for the night. it was meant to be all about you, a night for yourself.

“oh, uh no. i didn’t see.”

“right, well. you are looking very nice tonight.” jesus, is he trying to kill you? “what brings you out? if not a dull work-thing.”

“oh well, i had a date.” you mutter out, trying to play it off.

a pause.

“he didn’t show, though, so.. here i am.” he hums softly, looking down at you as you start to wonder if maybe its rude for you to be sitting? should you get up, get him a stool? beat yourself up for thinking he wants to continue this small talk?

“sorry to hear that, he’s missing out.” oh.

“so, is your newest… project? being received well?” nicely articulated, you grimace, trying to divert the conversation from your awfully pathetic love life, or sex life— what normal woman would already be pressing her legs together at just this awfully tension heavy conversation?

“ah, yes. its doing quite well actually.” he drags a stool from behind him, settling down unfairly smooth. “sales have gone up quite a lot.”

“although, i would prefer not to talk about work tonight y/n.” his eyes flick down to your legs, slowly dragging over the edge of your dress.

“oh? and what would you like to talk about then, jay?” you tilt your head, leaning into him as you subtly play with the end of your straw. maybe the nerves have disappeared.

“i saw you like a few of my posts on instagram the other night.”

oh fuck.

“not to worry, i didn’t mind. 2am is a bit surprising however.” you stare at him, your eyes widening ever so slightly as you beg your body to contain itself.

“…would you want to try some of that wine you have there back at mine? im sure we could get more personal in a private environment.”

holy shit.

“god, yes.”

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

you gasp, small whimpers escaping your lips as jay finally sits up, his knees slightly marked up and red, his lips awfully swollen and plump from however many attacks they’ve had on your own— face or otherwise. “doing so well darling.” he presses faint kisses on your cheeks, your thighs as you try to catch your breath.

“jay…” you whine.

“oh baby, you poor thing.” he hums at your pout. you knew he didn’t mean it, that stupid smirk, his hands traveling to his belt, him giving you three orgasms, the last leaving you on the brink of tears— it was all awfully contradictory of his cooing.

“cmon sweetheart, you can give me another.” he groans into your chest, kicking off the last of his clothes, chuckling slightly as you gape at his length.

he pulls back, peering into your eyes as he sits above you, searching for any sign of real discomfort. you start reaching for his face, pulling him in for another kiss.

he meets you halfway, his hands leaving faint strokes across your sides as he soothes the clear nerves— now not over some dumb date, over how difficult it would be to take him.

“please..” you whimper into his ear, eliciting a faint groan as he nudges your soaked hole.

“you want it baby?” he coos, refusing to move.

you don’t either, your face contorted with fear and excitement. “aww, cmon baby, you dont want it? don’t want me to fill you up?” he hums, leaning back slightly, loving the teasing.

you reach for him immediately, pulling him back down as you shake your head. “no- no, i wan’ it, please jay,” you slur your words, your mind already going to mush after his attack earlier.

“okay baby.” you whine as he pushes in, inch by inch stretching you open, your jaw going slack as you burry your face in his shoulder, clinging onto his biceps as he starts moving.

“fuck baby, so perfect, such a tight little hole around me, aren’t you?” he grunts, relentless as he chases the overwhelming pleasure.

you nod, digging your nails deep into his muscles, feeling them flex every time he pushes back in, the knot in your abdomen growing tighter with every slam of his hips.

“jesus baby, fuck.”

“doing so good f’me, such a good girl.”

his mutters, his praise, his neediness never ending as you both near his first, and your fourth climax of the night.

you gasp out as he hits that sensitive spot over and over again, finally coming undone around him as you clench, forcing groans and curses out of him as his thrusts grow increasingly more frantic.

“fuck sweetheart, jesus.” your whines start to grow louder as the overstimulation hits you, just moments before his finish.

“christ baby, take it, take it all-” he grunts, spilling into you with one final thrust, his pants slowing as he finishes.

you both say nothing for a moment after, until he pulls out and shushes your whimpers, pressing faint kisses to your forehead as he helps you sit up, pulling one of his shirts over your head, fitting you like a small nightie.

he chuckles at your sleepy face, your eyes struggling to stay open as he babies you into sleep, pulling you against his chest as he mutters praise into your ear, small kisses falling upon your cheek, your eyelids, your arm, anywhere he deemed worthy of a kiss— everywhere.

“jay..?” you peep out, your eyes still shut, your cheeks slightly squished under his arms hugging you into him.

“hmm?”

“do we have to go back to normal at work..?” you whisper, shifting slightly as you cling to his arms once more, the scenario awfully contrasting.

“no baby, you let me worry about those things.” you hum in response, leaning into him further as sleep takes over,

“sleep tight, darling.”

feedback appreciated but never necessary-- hope u enjoyed!

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

[jsongprk]

SCANDALOUS! 0.3 ⋆˚࿔

a/n: hey so heres part 3... which once again i dislike... 🫩 breifly inspired by this ask although i decided not to add the smut for this one as i have an upcoming arranged marriage au (jay x reader) and theres a similar scene.. so i wanted to leave it for that fic! (will be out soon)

part 1, part 2

warnings/genre: fluff, idol x idol, written/smau, other members mention, sorta crack, (possibly the last part guys...)

you sigh, smiling through the annoyance over the fact that you weren’t annoyed, approaching your door as you hear that faint knock.

you are greeted by a very slumped jay, waving goodbye to jay and sunghoon as they scurry out of your building, mouthing quick apologies and winks as they escape.

“hey baby.” you brim, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and helping him indoors.

you guide him all the way to your kitchen, forcing him to sit as you fetch a cold glass of water.

“open.” he obeys immediately, letting the water run down his adams apple as he stares into your eyes, completely forgetting about the icey liquid hitting his lips.

“you’re very perfect.” he mumbles, wiping away spilt droplets onto his sleeve as you make your way to the bathroom.

“am i now?” you chuckle, unwrapping makeup wipes as you help him sit.

“my girlfriend wouldn’t like how you’re touching me..” he slurs, giggling slightly as you jerk your brow.

“your girlfriend? since when did you make it official?” you smirk, warmth blooming in your chest as you see the way his smile drops, taking a hold of your hands immediately.

“what.. princess i asked you if i could be yours months ago… when did you break up with me?” he whines, peering into your eyes like a lost puppy.

“ah, so you do know im your girlfriend.” his eyes squint slightly, before he lets out a small gasp realising what you made him admit.

“stop trying to act all cute jongseong, im very upset with you.” you say firmly, your expressions contradicting your tone as you await his whining, finally getting him into bed with you.

you curl into his side, resting your head on his chest after finally getting him to free himself of his day clothes, his bare abs hard under your palm. “’m sorry baby..”

you look at him, humming “hmm? why love?” you run your hand up and down his abdomen, trying to will him asleep.

“for getting jealous..” he mumbles, sleep slowly taking over. “we should get married.” he hums, his eyes fully shut and his arms curling tighter around you.

“okay baby.” you whisper, kissing his cheeks as his breathing slows. “lets do that.”

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

hope u enjoyed!! feedback appreciated but never expected!

ps,, this may be the last part depending on how it does... i cannot tell if people are receiving it well and as i don't like it much myself i might just focus on my other works!

++ if anyone has any fic ideas/reqs pls send my way i wanna write something new but have no good new ideas...

[jsongprk]

please do part 3 of scandalous!!

But ok hear me out, jealous possessive fuck w/ Jay like 😭

Jay getting jealous of a another idol because you did a tiktok dance w someone or yoh getting shipped by your fans

A PART THREE

ok im kinda on board tho cause u gave me an idea for it...

ill see how well part 2 does and depending on that ill do a part 3

PURELY CAUSE I GOT OTHER WORKS IM TRYNA GET OUT 😢😢

great idea tho anon.. stay tuned 😳😳😳

[jsongprk]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ SCANDALOUS! 0.2

A/N: hi i hate this ok bai... also heads up this is smau/written so make sure u read the fic section or wtv its called+ make sure u read part 1 first!!😳 not proofread btw.. 😢😢😢

part 1 part 3

warnings/genre: smut, creampie, makeout sesh, jay lowk a dilf without being one, petname bunny, baby, etc, angst, drinking, idol x idol

despite the tears begging to break past your waterline, the message almost made you laugh. there was no way he was here. yes, you knew you were in the same building as him. but he had made it clear you shouldn’t be choosing him. he wouldn’t show up if he still believed that.

you tell yourself that as many times as you need in order to will your hand away from the door knob.

yet it doesn’t work. because you knew, deep down, all you really wanted was for it to be true. you wanted him to be standing there, ready to hold you in his arms, sooth your red cheeks, kiss away the tear stains as he had all other times you need him to.

and after the awful week you had, you almost laugh again, when you do see him there.

until you don’t, or at least, not all of him.

his eyes go sharp the second he sees you, and he pounces instantly.

his lips crash against yours, all of your hatred— or rather lack there of, is dissipated within seconds. his tongue pries open your mouth, swiping once, twice across your lips as he slams the door shut behind him with his foot.

you cling onto his shirt, moaning into his mouth, eliciting a “god, baby, fuck”, his hands slipping under your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, breaking apart barely as he travels down your neck.

you whimper at the feeling of him everywhere, his mouth leaving tiny nibbles as he tongues at your weak spots, his hands feeling over your thighs as they travel dangerously close to where you need him most.

“you’ll let me apologise, right baby?” you nod frantically, desperate to just feel him as he murmurs into your skin.

“cmon bunny, you can do better than that. say it.” he leans back, staring into your eyes eagerly, just waiting to let go.

“please jay, i forgive you- just-” you gasp, his hands thumbing at your heat as he picks you up again—now with one hand—, throwing you over his shoulder as he wanders to your bedroom, sliding off your panties as he makes his way over.

“oh you’ll forgive me after tonight sweetheart.”

he continues his abuse against where your hole, slightly edging you as he refuses to let you have that release you were so needy for.

“so wet f’me baby, you need me that bad?”

you nod, whining as you try to shove your face into the pillows flanking your head, grasping onto his biceps as he pulls away again, licking his fingers clean.

you peer up at him, breathing still unsteady as he leans on his knees, pulling his top up and above his head before doing the same for you, your dress now pooled on the floor.

“so perfect baby, god” you pull him down again, your mouths moving feverishly against each other, matching the erraticity of your hands as you both tear at any fabric separating you.

he nudges at your hole, his length slowly stretching you open as you both gasp and groan at the feeling. “so good for me, my little bunny.”

he slams into you, so deep you can feel him pressing against your cervix after he gets confirmation you were okay, every so often speeding up and slowing down, relentless drilling into you to drag it all out.

suddenly, he stops. your arms still wrapped around him tightly, scratching up his back and whimpering at the loss of constant stimulation. he gently flips you, slipping out in the process as you sit atop him.

“cmon baby, you can do it.” he lifts your hips, positioning you back above his dick, “slide down just like that, fuck,” he groans, helping you as your knees fall onto the bed beside his torso, gasping as you start bouncing above him.

“god, you’re so perfect, my little bunny.”

you whimper, your movements growing sloppy as you chase your release, “aw my baby is tired?” he grasps onto your hips, taking full control despite being below you.

“jay- oh fuck” he brings your head down to his, planting kisses all over your face, swallowing your moans as you come undone above him— soon he follows after, releasing inside you as he hugs you tightly.

“you did so well.” he whispers into your ear, something meant just for you, as he pulls out, soothing your discomfort as he lifts you into your en suite, running a bath.

“i’m so, so sorry my love.” he says, punctuating with a kiss to your forehead as you smile sleepily up at him.

“its okay jayjay, i know why.”

you climb into the warm water, jay knelling behind you as he washes your hair thoroughly, muttering apologies, praise, compliments, pure love all over you.

you turn, looking into his eyes, the lack of clothes something now warm and intimate instead of hot and desperate.

“i love you so much.” he blurts out, your eyes widening as you peer into his soft features.

“id quit for you. god, how did i not figure it out sooner.” he mumbles, caressing your cheek as you lean into him.

“you didn’t lie..” you whisper, a statement more than a question, a confession more than a realisation.

“no.” he confirms. “never did, never will.”

“i love you too.”

and through all the fear, the cheers, the fans, the company, all of it, you vow to stick together.

to keep loving one another.

no matter the hardship.

feedback appreciated but never expected!!

@yjwswhilom

[jsongprk]

will u write a pt 2 of the jay smau?? Im under your bed btw!

😳...come out and say hi 😂😂

ok genuinely for a while there i didnt know if id do a part two purely cause i actually have no clue what to do...and bc its like my least favourite post. 🥺

writing smau has never been my thing so i did write it with the intention of it being a oneshot. so.

BUT considering its like the most popular on my account (eff that) i probably will... stay tuned 😳😂

edit- part 2 posted!

[jsongprk]

im unwell

biker heeseung fic cumming soon 😳😳✌️✌️✌️😂😂😂

[jsongprk]

can we be moots but im a pussy so uh

YES OFC 😳😳😳😳😳

pls dont even be nervous.... im desperate for moots truly like we are in the same boat

[jsongprk]

https://www.tumblr.com/jsongprk/818850080710967296/%F0%9D%9C%97%F0%9D%9C%9A-scandalous?source=share

what are WE after this... ok ig ill just cry by myself

BHAHAHAHA IM CRYINF

stop... cry with me 🥺🥺🥺

[jsongprk]

moonstruck ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

moonstruck: unable to think or act normally, especially because of being in love.

genre/warnings: knight x princess au, fluff, smut, unprotected p/v, reader gains independency slowly, jay mention, sunghoon is very patient, reader is very curious, creampie,

a/n: this was originally over 80k words.. but, i didnt like it-- ironically, i dont like this ver either 🫩 not proofread as all my works arent😢😢

w/c: 4.3k

“i apologise my lady but groaning and grumbling over your blouse will not make it any less restrictive.” another pull. “if i may, how else do you hope to be courted if you aren’t appropriate?” then, a pat against the tightest reign of your torso, and a pleased smile.

missy was a kind lady-in-waiting, always did her duties well, and always attained to them as such— you, her main. however, she was still traditional. extensively, at that.

as the entire palace was.

she knew not of the scoffs you replayed in your mind when you knew better than to utter them aloud, she knew not of the ideas you had already formed for the future of your- your fathers kingdom.

she did, however, when he was not present, she did know of the huffs you directed to the thought of your marriage. one fast approaching. if such is even possible, without even a groom, and barely a bride.

when he was present, you didn’t dare whisper your disagreements towards your set-in-stone future. it was disrespectful. un-ladylike. out of character.

inappropriate.

thats was your standard. slim waist, smooth hair—not one speck out of place, perfect footwork for any and all balls, and a polite, kind person. perfect. just as the kingdoms princess should be. which, when you were upfront with yourself, you knew that wasn’t too far from how you wished to be. just not for who you were set to marry.

jay is kind. jay is a gentleman. jay is powerful.

jay is unknown.

at least to you.

he was the first atop your fathers list for improvements to the streets, a rightful man for you. to guide, and aid in your eventual crowning. it wasn’t to happen immediately, nor was it definite to be him.

but you knew your time as queen was close— royals, whether queen or king, where not to uphold their position if over the age of 70. an heir was required. and this very ball, the one you were so tightly being prepped for, was in celebration of his last month. your fathers 70th was the 31st of April, and today was the 1st.

you also knew that your much awaited time would be awfully farther if you attempted to sit atop that throne without a man- without someone there to overshadow you.

and awaited it was, your whole life had been pure. too pure. you were perfect, never a peep of disagreement, always nods, never an ask, always understanding.

so, when you hear those heavy footsteps, and the sound of his grumbling tone, knowing he’s there to collect you in order to take your arm and have (those allowed,) to clap and cheer just at the sight of your pretty pink dress and perfect skin, you sit. you straighten your posture, you smile at the ropes moulding your flesh into beauty, and you wait to lilt your voice.

“just splendid dear.” he extends his hand, waiting for yours to take his forearm. “i will stay until conclusion, you are to leave before your set time.”

“yes, father.” of course—back just after sunset, asleep in the carriage to make up, ice bath when home.

alone, just after routine.

— ᨳଓ .

missy’s eyes crease as you meet hers from the staircase, smiling as she watches her work, work. hair done, dress tightened and loosened in all the right places, hand as smooth as ever as it sits against your father, the weirdest parts of you causing the eruption from the crowd.

you take control of your own wrist again—barely, as you seperate to tip-toe down the opposite staircase. custom to dance the first orchestra, you unite with some lucky nobleman— ensuring you get a nod from your father first.

your feet glide across the cold, comforting floor. effortless. done only so smoothly with the reminder that you are allowed to sit once the shook stares and nonstop show of teeth and upturned lips halt, even if only by this one pleased man who gets to hold your waist.

however, tonight was different. not only that of what a special night it was already, but how the air had felt. you didn’t feel such a need to let your minds wander just to get you through the night— the boredom and reality taking over, as you found something else- or someone else, to guide your satisfaction.

it was a knight.

you could barely even see his face, those helmets where always too shadowing. but you could make out his eyes, and his lips.

his very plump limps. his very endearing eyes.

i hope jays will look like that. you think.

for the first time ever, you let yourself drop— just slightly— from that perfection you carried so, well- perfectly.

and it was to let your eyes fall on that stupidly handsome, tall knight— instead of keeping them on the man who kept fumbling his steps. probably because his eyes were behaving themselves.

another few hints in the orchestra, another few turns of your feet. and yet, you stayed looking— staring, at him. he had this pull about him, impossible to turn a blind eye, impossible to pry away even after you settle, managing to escape from the loudest part of the room.

loud, both in and out of your mind.

others continued their commute, others continued dancing, but you? you stayed glued to your chair. away from the commoners (they were only allowed in the courtyard—despite your pleas) you couldn’t even breathe slow without thinking, or clinging to, him.

he stood composed, as if he wasn’t the most scandalous man in this room. to distract the princess, as a knight no less— he was to be locked up.

yes, that was it.

the colour he planted across your cheeks, the quickening of your breath, the stutter in your voice as you greeted distant relatives and the occasional townsman admirer, was all his fault.

not yours.

the princess was not to blame for the inevitable dispute shared with her father- whilst yet to come, a hint under perfection was imperfection.

and ‘imperfection’-? it was never to be even uttered in the same string of words as your title. no, no not even title—if a whisper of those words had any relation to you, descriptive language of even slightly inappropriate behaviour did not belong.

so now, as you sit, trying to enjoy the skim, dull foods— if they could even be called as such—layed out specifically for you, trying to ignore what you knew was coming— your fathers eye was too sharp to miss— trying to ignore that magnet standing in the corner of the hall, you are rudely interrupted.

“is it to your liking tonight, your highness?”

a man, one you knew you should know, the way he refused to announce himself, the way he flashed all thirty two pearls— he must’ve been someone.

“oh, yes, very much so. everything is delightful.” you try not to wince at the halting nature of your words, you just couldnt get your mind focusing.

“i hear you are to be married soon. your father is very pleased, boasting to everyone about it.”

your eyes widen. “is that so?” gods. another slip up. you are not to question.

the mans brows furrow slightly, but his smile does not falter— this makes it hard to decipher his age, are those lines due to his upturned lips or his years? “yes, jongseong, is it? jay, i believe he is referred to. a humble man, it sounds. different to your father.” he chuckles.

you just cant hold back tonight. maybe it was that man who opened your eyes, maybe it was the shock of hearing your marriage was already making the rounds. whatever it was, you felt alive.

“different to my father? how so?” you flash an innocent face, if it worked to make others trip over themselves, maybe it would work to grasp their independency. maybe this man would ignore your mishaps.

and he does, evidently so. “well, if you dont mind me saying princess, your father knows his worth. even as he brags about your future he makes it clear he owns your soon-to-be.” then, he plants a hand on your shoulder, giving it one tap, before heading away.

you barely have the time to process before missy comes back, ushering you out of the commute and into the carriage. “oh my dear, we are running slightly late. you must be back in time for your ice bath.”

but you dont listen to her. not because you dont want to, nor because you are contemplating the conversation just passed.

its because of him. no longer a thought— there he is. right in front of you. that infruiatingly handsome night has followed you out of the hall, nodded at your maid, and is now helping you to get home.

“missy, if you dont mind. uhm, why is he here?” you gesture towards him through the small window as you speak to your maid, knowing full well he can most likely hear you so long as his ears are well.

“he's your new personal knight, your father assigned him to you.”

you stare, stunned.

why on earth would you need one? why now of all times? why him.

“your father is worried, that, the streets may get a tad… roudy. —when news of your wedding comes to light. “ she stumbles, somehow reading your mind.

ah.

the streets may want to harm you.

their precious princess—it was basically treason for you to love another.

if not them, then no one.

— ᨳଓ .

you arent sure what you expected when you got back to the warmth of your chambers. a kind welcoming bath? a simple good nights sleep?

no, not after ‘the show you put on.’

somehow, you could never leave the gaze of your father— and you worried he wouldve seen you eyeing that knight.

but the berating never came. not for that, at least.

apparently, you hadn’t smiled enough.

“you know i appreciate you my dear. but you are reaching far too high if you believe others would when your face looks like that. you are here to be cherished, not loved.”

and with that, he left. you are not to be loved.

usually, you wouldn’t mind. you would complete your routine as methodically as possible, then climb into bed.

but tonight was different.

you had a glimpse of real emotion. you didn’t even know how much you yearned for it.

until he came along, in that metal suite, guiding you home, and now, standing outside your door. definitely listening to your weeps.

no, there was no way he could hear you. the door was far too heavy, your quiet tears couldnt reach him.

and yet, you still couldn’t get them to stop. not until you see your saviour lying across the rooms vanity.

your book.

—diary.

and so, you write, and you write, and you write. you write of how you dont want this marriage, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself. you write of how all you really enjoy is writing.

you write of how seeing that man tonight, has made you feel things youve never felt before.

including, a sudden strike of courage.

courage that forces you out of your stool, leaving your cramped hand behind to open your door. courage that allows you to look that man dead in the eye, and ask-

“whats your name?” it comes out breathy, as if you just ran a marathon.

and when he answers— just with his eyes, you cant hold back.

“pardon me madam?” he leans forward slightly, shocked.

“whats your name.” you command now, smiling as the excitement of doing something so, so scandalous, has never even crossed your mind. and now you're doing it.

“its sunghoon, your majesty.”

“sunghoon.” you mimic.

you ponder for a second, pouting, before- “can i see your face?”

he hesitates, clearly wondering whether or not complying or not would be more or less professional.

he goes with obeying.

how could he not?

he saw you eyeing him the whole night— he saw ur pink cheeks as he made eye contact.

he was confident, but his ego was never big enough to imagine the princess, the actual princess would notice him. let alone ask to see his face.

let alone stare, stunned at how handsome his face turned out to be.

and he just couldn’t hold back his smirk, especially not after you turn and instantly bolt out of the room, your face going completely crimson.

the coming morning, after your- far too eventful night, you awake to missy’s voice.

today was planned perfectly, as all days were in yours.

you were to visit the gardens, today. something not unbeknownst to you, you lived directly next to them. no, it wasnt that that had made today so- weird, so unexpected. it was that he had to be there.

the whole time.

it was unnatural.

it was meant to be missy, she was the one constantly accompanying you. not some, some knight?

and yet there he was, making you stiff and awkward under his gaze.

gardens— no longer safe from sight. you jot down.

but you figure standing, staring at the flowers whilst wondering what to do with your hands, well, it wasn’t ideal. if marriage was where you were headed, you may as well enjoy your last days.

so, you speak up— you take a risk.

“..why are you always staring?”

“its my job your majesty.”

“but, most knights don’t dare to let their eyes fall upon me.”

he snickers. “i have been ordered to let my eyes fall exactly there.” he mocked you, sounding out every syllable of every word. he had actually mocked the way you talk. it was how you were raised- speaking lady like was your only option.

“have you now..” you pout.

“if i may, why are you always staring at me, must be a much more appropriate question.”

you go bright red. “why are you asking so many questions, sunghoon?”

“it was one, princess.” you flinch— that title, ‘princess,’ — he didn’t say it like how it was meant to be said, he said it like he was making fun of you. he said it like a pet name.

“why are you so rude to your princess.” you demand.

“i have next to no regard for the royal family.”

you stare at him, stunned. how could he be so blunt?

“it used to absolutely none. then you came along. you’re pretty fun.” he winks at you, letting out a small breath.

still staring, you gape at him, before shutting your improper mouth, turning away, and nodding.

its understandable, you suppose. you didn’t even really like your father.

but you- fun? no.

“i’m fun..?”

“why are you mumbling now?” he chuckles.

your eyes snap back to him, your lips jutting out.

“stop pouting, princess. yes, you are indeed fun.”

“how am i fun?” you cross your arms, both annoyed and inquired by him.

“well, you’re funny. very direct even when you don’t mean to be. and very curious.”

“well.. what am i meant to be if not curious?” you unravel your arms, giving yourself a good five seconds of intimidation.

“you’re not meant to be anything. you are you, princes.”

“and who is that, sunghoon?”

he simply smiles, giving a nod and a wink before you turn, stunned, shocked, and all the more curious— but a whole lot less stiff.

he wasn’t that bad.

he was annoyingly quite good. quite fun.

your day had ended much farther from usual. it was pleasing— shockingly pleasing to feel so joyed over a difference. a change was never usual.

that conversation, one so drastic to you, had been replaying like a broken record in your mind. from the second you turned and breathed in the garden aromas, to the icy bath, to the soft covers you now lay engulfed by, you couldn’t get over it.

or him.

or the aching feeling of desperate teachings. literally, and figuratively.

one thing, one very sinful act, you had been taught at a young age— how to please a spouse. it was the wife- the queens, job to ensure fulfilment was present for the king.

but you had never learnt more than positions, and the forbiddance of it- despite its ‘necessity’.

and you were so very curious.

you were so very desperate, so very done.

after the sun had fallen, three things remained as you decided to go see him again— for one, you couldn’t be more excited to disobey your father and the invisible contract you had signed for your future. for two, you were curious— about all the little nooks and crannies that go into the deed.

lastly, you were needy.

not just mentally, but it was clear what your body had wanted.

or rather, it wasn’t clear— and that made it clear. transparent.

so, you push open the doors.

“i’ve found who i am. or- i mean, a small part.” you say, stumbling slightly after being met with his face- no helmet this time— no armour. as if he had been waiting.

“and?”

“the only thing- or, i guess, a big- large thing, i desire, is to learn. yet i promise ignorance just so i don’t feel any satisfaction.” you confess. the feeling of trusting someone with such shocking words, knowing how they could be misused— it was beautiful.

“but i want to feel that satisfaction.” he stares at you, trying to decipher your words. he understood, but he didn’t comprehend.

what did you want to learn?

instead, he asks “why now, of all times?” tilting his head slightly.

“because of you.” you sigh- or breathe in. you aren’t sure. “i like you. uhm, a lot, but, i cant be with you. and, well i’m getting married soon- i just, i want to have one small part of enlightenment before being asked to help in the ruling of a city.” he smiles, nodding along.

he’s eager to hear you say it.

asking for you to ask him.

“can you-” you straighten. “can you teach me how to-” no, its more than the learning part. even if you don’t want to admit it— you know it. “will you lay with me?”

“i may be let go from my position.” he smiles, almost completely unfazed. or at least seemingly.

“i thought you had no respect for royalty..” you mumble, disappointed.

“you know me so well, baby.” he pushes you back into your room, his face immediately illuminated by your subtle lanterns, still present from your previous writing endeavours.

he crashes his lips onto yours, persuading your mouth open with his tongue as he pushes the door shut with his foot. **his foot.

he is a knight for a reason. you think.

you sigh into his mouth, splaying your fingers across his chess, finally getting to feel him.

before he suddenly breaks apart, slightly breathless.

“show me how much you want it.” he demands with such kindness, as he sits at the end of your bed, staring up at you.

he chuckles— laughs, at your dazed expression. “take off your clothes, princess.”

your face goes that similar pink hue, before you comply.

you curse yourself— wasn’t tonight all about disobedience??

but it was, you realise. you’re doing what you want to do. if he had or he hadn’t just ordered you to undress, regardless you would’ve done it. this is what you want. what you need.

he sighs, watching as your porcelain skin grows more and more visible, leaving now nothing to his imagination, sending everything to the blood rushing to his- now very prominent dick.

“jesus, baby.” he reaches for you immediately, forcing you down onto his lap, eliciting numerous soft whimpers from you as you grasp his shoulders, squirming under the feeling of his fingers through your folds.

“doing so well f’me.” he mumbles, planting soft kisses to your neck, cheek, forehead, anywhere as he slowly rubs circles on your clit, the sharp contrast of your needs and his soft compliance.

“sunghoon- oh, please, gods-” you moan, digging your nails into his collar as he speeds up.

you begin fumbling with his buttons, “hoon, off” you mutter, proper language now escaping you, unraveling from the code you had so driven into you.

he chuckles, standing, pulling his hand away as he licks his digits clean, bringing them to the hem of his shirt as he pulls it up, now above you as he lays you against the soft sheets.

you stare up at him.

“please..”

“use your words.”

“bite me.” you grumble, frustration peaking through, forcing his grin instantly wider.

“ask nicely.” he smirks.

your lips part, feeling the ache between your legs as you gape up at his frame, decorated so beautifully by scars. you lean up, getting onto your knees as you help him out of his pants, freeing him finally. you let out a small puff of air.

“are you sure you want this, princess?” he holds your cheeks, planting soft kisses to your eye lids as you process everything.

“yes, yes please, sunghoon.” dragging your fingertips up and across his arms, holding on his wrists as you lean your lips onto his palm. he nods, resting one hand on your collarbone, slightly pushing as you lean back, getting comfortable.

he brings his length up, nudging your hole a few times, teasing as you gasp and purse your lips together, holding onto his biceps, before he finally starts pushing in.

your hands fly to his back, scratching him up immediately as the pressure overwhelms you.

“doing so well, y/n, breathe baby.” he mutters into your ear, his hand caressing your forehead, brushing away the sweaty strands that encase it, as he slowly buries himself in you, whispering soft praises constantly.

he stays there, letting you adjust before you look into his eyes, nodding as he pulls back, before slamming right back into you. you cry out immediately, nails pressing back into him.

he continues, back and forth, in and out.

you get louder and louder, making his praise and admiration grow with your volume.

“so perfect for me baby,”

“feels amazing around me, squeezing me so well love.”

never ending air touching your ear, his words making you squirm.

“sunghoon, something, oh god- i dont-” you gasp, feeling a tight coil pull at you, begging him to keep going.

“shh, ‘ts okay princess, let go f’me baby.” he mumbles, losing himself as he brings his hand away from your face, your breasts— wherever it was wandering before he began rubbing circles on you again, cooing for your release.

“hoon, jesus oh my god-” you clamp down on him, crying out as your release washes over you. clinging onto him like life support.

but he wasnt done.

“good girl, cmon baby, give me one more. you can do it” he groans, latching onto your neck as you whimper.

“i cant” you sob, “please, i cant, hoon-” you didnt even know what you were pleading for, you needed him to continue and stop at the same time, the overstimulation mixing deliciously between pain and pleasure.

“yes you can baby, just f’me, i know you can.” he pants, growing closer to his finish in unison with you— he hits that spot, kissing your cervix just slightly as he speeds up, before burying himself as deep as possible, leaking inside of you as he groans into your neck, simultaneous with your second release of the night.

he collapses next to you, pulling you on top of him, careful not to hurt you— he whispers near silent praises, subtle “’did so well f’me,” and “such a good girl” escaping his lips as he mumbles into your skin.

finally coming down from your high, your eyes widen as you look into his, before softening— allowing a massive grin to overcome your face.

“oh? was it that good?” he teases, tickling you as you giggle underneath him.

he pulls out after you both settle, kissing away your soft whimper as he cleans you up.

“you okay? nothing hurting? please tell me if-” you shut him up instantly, pressing a long kiss to his plump lips as you drag him back into your bed.

“i’m okay. it was amazing.” you curl into his side, giggling into his stripped chest as his arms come up around you, holding you tight.

“i like you a lot, funny girl.” he mutters into your hair, stroking your back.

and you realise, just how much this had meant to you. how much he had meant to you. the kingdom was never there, in your dreams. they had been overwhelmed by him, your writing, and yourself.

what your father had wanted, your expectations? they were not in the contract you had tied to yourself for so long.

it was him.

“did you mean it when you said you don’t respect the royals?” you peer up at him.

“of course. hold on- wait, not you.” he holds you tighter, “never you. please don’t say you were thinking that.” he pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes.

you giggle, pressing a kiss to his knuckle as you curl into him.

“so then, you wouldn’t mind kidnapping the kings daughter, saving her from her future?”

his breath pauses, his eyes softening immediately, looking at you like you had just told him you had all of his wildest dreams waiting for him, stashed away in your pocket.

he squeezes you to his chest, holding you as close as possible.

“i couldn’t think of a better new job offer.”

— ᨳଓ .

@yjwswhilom ur never escaping being tagged

feedback appreciated but never expected!!

hope you enjoyed!!! ♡

[jsongprk]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ SCANDALOUS!

ׂ╰┈➤genre/warnings: jay x reader, idol x idol, slight angst, jay is whipped, slight suggestiveness, reader worries, jay has proper grammar even over text, i will be falling for dada jay propaganda

part 2 part 3

ׂ╰┈➤a/n: this is my first smau... so. seeing those weverse con pics of jay did something to me but i am lowk in writers block so smau it is!

@yjwswhilom

ignore the poor quality on some ss pls....its bc i had to transfer them back n forth from my laptop to phone due to tumblrs mobile pic limit... 😢

part 2 maybe..?

[jsongprk]

FALLING IN LOVE — ᨳଓ .

↳ after a night of drunken confessions, you thought things with sunghoon were doomed from progressing- until he asks you to help judge his practice for an upcoming comp!

↳ genre/warnings: fluff, love confessions, oneshot, kissing, ice skating, reader is a bit of a klutz...

↳ WC: 1.3k

↳ a/n: hi... i just wanted to post something so apologies its quite short,,, ( this was written in about 30 mins) i have a few long angsty sunghoon/ jay fics coming out soon.. so keep an eye out?

you don’t know why you agreed, especially after what had happened.

it was mortifying, terrible, to get humiliated like that. asking out your crush was never easy, but it was definitely one million times harder when that crush was your best friend of— too many years to count.

it took months of convincing to ruin the friendship, just for him to stare at you like a puppy— a very confused, shocked, disgusted, —whatever stupid expression that was.

you hadn’t exactly been graceful, blurting it out only after the courage of those mystery drinks jake had made had entered your system. whatever he had conjured up at that party, it was to be locked up.

yes, a drink was to be put behind bars for your drunken mistake. you groan, berating yourself internally.

maybe it was the hope that sunghoon had called you here to apologise and confess how obsessed he was that brought you here, but you knew the chances of that were below 0.

unfortunately, you may have to just accept that you just wanted to see him. as usual.

so now, after your mind tricked— forced you into going, you find yourself scoring his twirls once again.

he runs over after finishing, knowing nothing of how desperately you wanted him to get off the ice and just do something. “how was it?”

“good. great. as it always is”

“will the judges like it?” right. he had a tournament soon— why on earth did you tell him a few days before it???

you are never getting drunk again.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n.” god.

how can he be so….gorgeous? annoying?

gorgeously annoying?

“they will love it. i don’t know what gets you… points? but it looked great. very graceful.”

“let me teach you.”

you stare at him, stunned. you had never properly been on the ice, the only time even slightly hinting at ‘skating’ was at the age of 8, and sunghoon had to carry you off the ice. him asking to teach you to do whatever he just did— it was abhorrent.

yet something about that stupid look, that stupid shit faced smile, made you get up, sigh, and say- “fine.”

“yes!”

“but if i fall and break my wrist its your fault.”

“understood.” he salutes, face going dead serious before chuckling as he leads you to get skates on.

he ties your laces as you sit there, deeply regretting your decision, and deeply repressing how badly you want to run your hands through his hair. its tickling your knees for gods sakes.

“okay, so you’ll want to get on-” he steps onto the ice, “like this.”

you shrug, holding onto the wall as you go front first, one foot after the other. yet before you could even get the other over the step, you were falling- slipping directly onto the ice.

however the fall was much faster than you thought it would be.

you land on something hard, something steadying you, someone giggling and patting your cheeks. “you okay?”

your face goes bright red, pushing away from him— suddenly getting very good balance.

he nods, smile faltering, just barely, and gestures for you to follow him.

you stumble after him, letting out a breath of air— almost a laugh— at how stupid you’ve been.

he doesn’t have to like you back. its probably better this way—now theres no worry of splitting up. no worry of forgetting an anniversary, or causing fights over other stupid things.

at least with friendship, proximity was guaranteed.

and so, time should be passing quickly. considering how much fun you should be having.

or would be.

if you weren’t still caught up on how you want to have those fights.

you want to argue about silly things, you want to come back to him apologising all teary eyed before hugging it out and laughing it off as you fall asleep together.

but you knew it wouldn’t come.

“you’re doing pretty good!” he yells out, as if he isn’t flying across the rink on one foot. clearly your skills of keeping your feet as close together as possible with the most bent knees the world had ever seen— it did not compare.

definitely not comparable.

considering- for the second time now, you are falling face first. that stupid, annoyingly perfect flash of a smile was impossible.

and now, for the second time, once again he was there.

instantly in front of you, lightning fast.

“you’ll get it soon, stupid.” he chuckles as he helps you up, steadying your arms as you grasp his biceps.

his very hard biceps.

same as before, he helps you. same as before, your face goes awfully crimson.

different from before, he holds you a little tighter. his arms whispering a slight need for you to stay.

different from before, you stay. you don’t push him.

and he just stands, squeezing you, staring into your eyes.

as if you were the gold trophy at one of his competitions.

and now, even after that pep talk- that realisation, that you two should be friends despite whatever future you had conjured up with him, you can see it. right there.

that stupid future— holding you, nervous smiling gone, staring into your eyes as if your lack of skill was the best opportunity for him.

but it was the worst for you.

that humiliation— it wouldn’t happen again. regardless of how loudly your mind is just screaming at you to lean in, feel how those lips would move against yours, breathe him in.

so, same as before you push back.

“jesus- i’m fine.” you wave it off, laughing.

“what-?”

“i should go, sunghoon.”

“what? y/n-”

you turn, eyes refusing to meet his, lips refusing to fuck anything else up again.

but he had always been more decisive than you.

his arm latches onto yours, pulling you back onto his chest, forgetting just how unstable you were, forgetting you two are still on a field of ice— you fall right on top of him, toppling him over for now the third time.

and before you could even process, he was pulling you in, kissing you.

park sunghoon. the guy whose lips you had dreamed about, were now on yours.

and they weren’t pulling away.

you knew you should. you knew you should be the responsible one.

but it was him.

and you two never were known for responsibility.

“the other night,” a kiss. “i was surprised.” another kiss. “i didn’t-”

no kiss. he pulls away, you still directly on top of him, lips plump, face flushed, brain barely moving- “i didn’t know if you meant it. you were basically hammered.” you divert your eyes, embarrassment washing over you.

“but i do.”

they snap right back.

“i like you.”

a moment— breathing in each other, noses nearly touching.

“a lot, i- i love you.” your breath catches.

well, now your brain certainly wasn’t working.

“okay?” he says softly, brushing your hair out of your face as his hands move from your hips— something you hadn’t even noticed.

your eyes widen, finally realising what was happening. thanking the lord and whoever built this rink for your bad skating skills. “holy shit.”

he chuckles, eyes creasing as his smile widens once again, giving you another peck to really seal the deal. “you don’t have to say it back, i’ve been waiting a while to say it— so, sorry if its too-”

“i love you too.”

he stops, before lunging you two up— finally recognising your weight above him, kissing you all over as little giggles escape you— your mind finally going quiet.

“good.” he holds your cheeks, pressing them together as you smile up at him.

“i cant wait to get into so many arguments with you.” you say, giggling into his palm.

“you’re so strange.” he mumbles, kissing your forehead over and over.

and you could not be more happy over the dumb decision of agreeing to this dumb hangout—whatever it was that convinced you. “you love it.”

“i do.”

likes + comments appreciated but never necessary!!!

@yjwswhilom

[jsongprk]

good lord.

i need to write a fic.

edit-i wrote one

[yumangel]

pls interact with writers!!

i feel like i’m not the only one who struggles with feeling like that so i felt the need to address it here, because maybe some of you don’t know how much of a difference interactions actually make for us!! of course likes are fun and i think i can speak for all of us when i say that we’re always very thankful for each and every like on our works but at the end of the day, a like is just a tap on the screen.

what truly motivates us are comments, reblogs, even shooting up an ask telling us that you enjoyed our fic. that human interaction is key!! it makes us feel like our work is actually appreciated, like we’re not just speaking into the void without getting anything back. personally i get so overjoyed whenever i see a comment or a reblog with tags talking about the fic or an ask with some nice words about my works because to me it means that what i created actually matters - it strives me to do more and lifts my mood when i’m hesitant about continuing posting.

don’t be shy about expressing your opinion on the fics you read!! we writers don’t bite, quite the opposite - every little bit of feedback we get is motivation, and more motivation equals more amazing fics for you to read. <3

[jsongprk]

wheres your stop?⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

m- mature

f- fluff

MASTERLIST

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

YANG JUNGWON ⋆˚࿔

tba....

LEE HEESEUNG ⋆˚࿔

tba...

PARK JONGSEONG ⋆˚࿔

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION! slight m

╰┈➤ˎˊ-SCANDALOUS!

╰┈➤ˎˊ-SCANDALOUS! 0.2 m

╰┈➤ˎˊ-SCANDALOUS! 0.3

╰┈➤ˎˊ-oh dear, HR?

SIM JAEYUN ⋆˚࿔

tba...

PARK SUNGHOON ⋆˚࿔

╰┈➤ˎˊ -FALLING IN LOVE -f

╰┈➤ˎˊ -MOONSTRUCK -f, m

KIM SUNOO ⋆˚࿔

tba..

NI-KI ⋆˚࿔

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗BALCONY BLISS (draft ver) m

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗BALCONY BLISS 0.2 (complete ver) m

MORE TO COME!

[jsongprk]

BALCONY BLISS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 0.2

: ̗̀➛ ORIGINAL

in which you and niki are neighbours, and have never crossed that line. until one night, facing the exhausting aspects of life, you do.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi so if u saw the og before i changed it no u didnt.. i disliked how i went about the angst so. heres the redo! im only keeping the og up as it has likes so... me baymous?? i lowkey still hate this one but we ball..

warnings/genre: smut, slight fluff if you squint, slight angst, unprotected p in v, drinking, smoking,,, lmk if more?

wc- 5410

if there was one thing you learnt from college, its that not everyone stays.

if there was one thing you didn’t learn from college, its that everyone would turn out to be awful.

including, maybe you. arguing with your now— well ex— after he cheated on you, surely wouldn’t have been good for your neighbours. especially not with how paper thin these walls are, especially not with how loud you were.

you weren’t even really mad at him. sure, he’s a dick. but you never pictured yourself marrying him or anything.

so, as you stand in the breeze just outside your warm living room, breathing in the comfort of your cig—

“you should really stop that.”

a sudden voice, very deep voice, pulls you out of your thoughts. to your left, the usually empty balcony identical to yours—save for a few plants here and there, now has a presence. a seemingly very tall, annoying, presence.

“pardon?” you ask, not having to yell, or quieten down for that matter. your apartment complex was unfortunately quite small— the space between you was nothing short of miniscule.

“the smoke. it keeps me up. i have work early.” he replies back, his elbows bent on the railing as he clasps his fingers together, looking directly into your eyes. his face, now illuminated as he comes into the light, makes you tense up slightly. how has he gone unnoticed by you for so long?

“lot of demands coming from someone i cant even put a name to.” your eyebrows hitching up, frowning at his smug face.

“you could.” he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “you’re pretty.”

you scoff, appalled by the direction of this very, very unneeded conversation.

“no thanks.” you turn away, flicking the bud out of your fingers and stomping onto it, putting out your only comfort for the night.

“because you got broken up with?” he calls back, halting your movements instantly.

“what? how the hell did you-”

“usually when you smoke i hear talking along with it. you sit with him out here all the time. he sounds like a prick.” he cuts you off, shocking you even more.

why the hell is he so attentive?

“yeah, well. could’ve heard that before i dated him.” you mutter, turning your head towards the free house you now live in. empty, but free.

“what’d he do?” the man asks, resting his head against his fist as he awaits your answer, looking as if he’d been curious the whole night.

and you know what? you’re done being the one who settles your frustration through a puff of smoke and a sip of a drink. your annoying, sexy, prick of a neighbour can deal with it tonight.

“he cheated.” his eyes widen— without shock over the fact, more over your decision to actually talk to him. the guy who told you off for smoking for his own benefit, and proceeded to flirt despite your miserable look. “with one of my friends, no less.”

“why’d you even date this dude?” you eye him. then shrug— realising you don’t even really know. college had been a lot. it was easy to have him there, sometimes.

not when he’s off fucking your friend.

“i wouldn’t do that to you.” he perks up, tearing his eyes off you as he sighs. as if thats the most normal sentence to ever leave his mouth. “wanna talk about it?”

“are you just trying to get into my pants when i’m in a vulnerable state?” you ask, trying to hide the temptation. whether he was acting interested or not, both outcomes could work for you tonight. both are distractions.

you weren’t even sad over the guy. just disappointed you even let yourself go that long with him.

“no. you can even get to know my name tonight.” he answers, shaking his head, slightly pouting.

you stare at him, now smirking slightly, wishing you had your smoke still in between your fingers. or brushed hair. or at least some makeup on.

“jeez, third base already?” you say, finally enticing something other than a smirk out of this guy as he chuckles, muttering something back.

“i wish.”

now you chuckle, despite the rude, audacity of this dude, he already seems better than your ex. better sense of humour, at the very least.

“is there a word for the opposite of a gentleman?” you ask him out of nowhere, your teeth showing as you smile at his puzzled look.

“hmm.. prick? uncouth?” he ponders, shoving his hands in his pockets as he shivers slightly, the cool night air hitting you both.

“thats the name ill put to your face.” pulling your phone out, you open contacts, and begin jotting something down.

“you want to remember my face?” he gasps, placing a hand over his chest.

“give me your number.” you reply, eyeing him as he settles down from his dramatising— only to perk up again after recognising your words, and quickly grasping out his phone to make sure you save it.

“does this mean we get to talk?” his voice raising slightly, making the suggestive tone in his voice incredibly obvious as he leans over the railing.

“no, i’m going to bed. night prick.” you smile at him, turning off your balcony lamp as he chuckles, yelling back—

“smokings also bad for your health, pretty!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

of course, the night after your strange, but oddly comforting encounter with that- guy, you had come to one conclusion.

you were still thinking about him— whether that him was the prick from last night, or the prick who had just cheated on you, the statement would remain true. and you needed a distraction from one, and help from the other.

standing there, much more confident— yet slightly stunned— there he was. “Riki Nishimura. thats my name.” broad and tall, leaning against your doorway as your flushed face greets him once again. you let out a puff of air, shock at how perfect he is, annoyance towards that, or whatever it was, you let a slight inch of nerves out. “just come in.” and he smirks.

instantly pressing you against the cold wall, his lips follow suite onto your own, crashing your bodies against each other in fiery passion.

as his tongue breaks the barrier of your mouth, he slips his palms under your thighs, lifting you up, muttering “where?”

“left door-” you gasp against his lips as his hands squeeze you, rash and desperate as he makes his way into your room.

“jesus baby, how’d i not get you sooner?” he mumbles, diving into your neck as you fall back onto your bed, pulling your hoodie up and over your head, your cheeks slightly flushed under the small glow of the light protruding from your living room.

“don’t have me, nishimura.” you smile, before gasping at the feeling of his teeth nipping you slightly. he then moves to one of your breasts, still partially covered by your bra, alternating between them until each had been covered with traces of his lips.

“yet.” he mutters against you. “i like this. very pretty.” he says, thumbing at the lace against the very area he had been attacking with his lips moments earlier.

“want me to keep it on?” you reply, smirking as his hand instantly goes to the clasp clinging to your back.

“god, no.”

and before you could even react to the cold air hitting your bare chest, or the warm feeling of his mouth on you, he’s moving again, guiding his hand down to your aching core.

“jesus, you’re wet. don’t even have your panties off yet baby. he suck that bad?” he says lowly, groaning as he presses into you with more pressure, edging near exactly where you needed him.

“you sound like, fuck, you sound like a porn star.” you try to laugh, knowing you’re only saying this because he never did anything like this, and all of a sudden you are finding very new things about yourself, but he cuts off your giggling, replacing it with a very sharp gasp as he swipes his fingers through your folds, pushing your underwear to the side.

“i know you like it pretty, look at how you’re squirming from just my words.” you eye him, knowing full well he knows its not just his words— his fingers circling your clit, ignoring your need for more.

“please, fuck- riki,” you whimper, gripping his arms.

“i’ve got you baby.” he mutters, holding you as your climax rips through you, helping you ride it out as you come down from your high, panting slightly as your back hits the soft bed, riki still whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

as you finally regain your thoughts, your prop yourself up on your elbows, eyeing the rough bulge in his sweatpants, before catching the smirk across his face as he follows your eyes.

“what do you need?” he coos, willing it out of you.

“you know what.” you say shyly, annoyance creeping through.

giving in slightly, he matches your clothing situation, slipping his top off to reveal his sculpted torso. “say it.”

“fuck, ki. please, just take me already.” you groan, mouth nearly drooling at the sight of him as he slips out of his bottoms, helping you to undress simultaneously.

“atta girl.”

before you even get a chance to process how hot that was, or how big he is, he’s pushing into you, light thrusts as you stretch so deliciously around him— both of you groaning together as he hunches over you, his head in your neck. “so fucking perfect baby.”

as he bottoms out, giving you a few seconds to adjust, he refuses to hold back on the praise. subtle “good girl” and “doing so well for me, princess” leaving his lips continuously as he allows you to get used to the thick stretch.

despite the aching need rushing to his cock, he doesn’t dare move before you finally nod your head, closing your locked jaw before swinging it right back open as his hips slam into yours.

you grasp for his back, eliciting a strong moan out of him.

“gods, scratch me up baby.” you do.

“yeah, mark me up just like that.” you do.

as he continues his ruthless hammering into your now drenched cunt, you feel the sharp coil tighten once again, your sounds getting ever so louder.

“f- fuck ki!” you gasp as he speeds up, both of you chasing your high.

“jesus baby, all those pretty sounds just for me? doing so well.” he grunts, leaning down to nip at your neck.

“oh god, i’m going to cum, ki please-” you whimper, before he cuts you off, his thrusts slamming into you.

“not yet baby, i’m close, stay with me. together, yeah? will you do that for me?” he leans back up, his dazed eyes meeting yours as you slam them shut, bathing in the overwhelming pleasure.

“eyes on me.” he commands, your eyes immediately obeying him as you nod your head vigorously, his hand coming down to circle your clit once again.

you gasp, before digging your nails into his shoulder blades, him burying himself to the hilt inside you.

you both slowly come down from your high, as he immediately wraps his arms around you, basically forcing you to accept the sweet affection of aftercare.

“did so well for me.” he mumbles, stroking your hair for a hot second until his breathing slows, finally pulling out.

“ill be back in 2 seconds.” he says, clearly.

you nod lazily, too wrapped up in your state to even really recognise his footsteps as he wonders mindlessly into your bathroom, before returning with a warm hand towel, cleaning you up.

before you nod off, your head fall onto the warm chest of the man who just turned your world upside down. literally.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

its suffocating, when you wake up. knowing what you’ve done. it felt insanely right and wrong all at the same time. for gods sakes, the guy cheated on you, and you feel bad for pretty much moving on in a few nights. or maybe it isn’t that.

you eye the clock perched on your wall, not making out the exact time but knowing its too early to be called morning and too late to be called night.

so, you get up. as usual when it gets too tight—when everything starts closing in slightly, you tiptoe your way out to your balcony, careful not to wake the, not-so-prick, laying in your bed as you sit down, bringing your knees to your chest, realising the fluffy pyjamas you don’t remember putting on.

clearly not careful enough, however. “cant sleep?” a raspy voice questions from behind, subtly approaching and sitting next to you, propping one knee up as he lays a thin blanket across your shoulders, draping onto your back. “whats on your mind?”

you sigh, shakingly.

“she wasn’t just one of my friends. who he cheated with.” a pause, and a sigh. “she was my best friend.”

you laugh, bouncing your forearm against your knee, trying to will the tears away.

“she was basically my fucking sister. i didn’t like him that much. but at one point he was my friend too, and we shared good times.” you feel almost empty, hollowed out.

“i don’t really have anyone now. except her.” you smile, pointing towards your lighter, resting near the rigid box of cigs on the rim of your balconies flimsy railing.

finally, you turn to meet his eyes— his very sad, and very worrying eyes.

but theres something else there, something hidden behind those irises, that you cant quite place yet.

then he smiles, just barely.

“i think this is our first time having a conversation.” he smiles, fully now, brimming as he looks straight ahead again, your shoulders nearly touching. “a real one, not just a nod at each other or a bland ‘hi’.”

now, he turns, facing you more evidently in his body language. “ive wanted to be close with you for a while now, y/n.” you take in a small breath.

“at first it was something like tradition gnawing at me, the desire to be on good terms with the neighbours. share sugar when we needed it, things like that.” you let out a faint chuckle. “then, one day i heard that idiot boyfriend of yours slam your door when i was sleeping. i was mad— pissed off, he did it a lot. so, having had enough, i walk out to the balcony— i knew if i went outside no one would be there. i was going to yell at you, tell you to be mindful of others.” you turn fully towards him now, only now noticing just how deeply he looks at you.

“then i saw you, standing there, still staring at the door. not moving. like you were just done. then slowly, you turned around, tears brimming in your eyes, and just silently walked out—parallel to me, sat, and simply looked. you didn’t even notice me.”

how deeply he sees you.

you stare at him, stunned— shockingly, you can recall the night, despite it being like so many others, that was the night you-

“that was when you started,” he nods his head to the small box that had been glaring at you all night, “started smoking again.”

“since that night, i was so desperate to be friends. maybe not even friends, just aware of each other.” you feel a small tear travel down your cheek.

“you have me, now. you’ve had me since that night, and you wont lose me.” you feel your teeth jabbing into your right cheek.

“i barely even know you.” you whisper, trying to convince yourself to not fall too deep into this- friendship, fuck-buddies, whatever it was.

he hums. “my dad was in the army, died before i was born. i work as a bartender most nights, very late. my lucky number is seven. my favourite colour is black-” he stops— looking at your lips as your voice stutters slightly. “i know its a shade. be quiet.” he smiles, mocking frustration. “and for a long time refused to make any strong connections with anyone.” his grin fades slightly, looking into your eyes as you process the information.

“..why?” you tilt your head slightly.

he nods his head, as if gulping down the information he’d never really wanted to regurgitate. “i wanted to follow in my fathers footsteps. never even knew the guy, but i reckon till the day i die they’ll keep a spot open for me in his favour. apparently he was pretty good at what he did.”

vulnerable, you think, one more time.

“id rather you didn’t.” he smiles, before moving back into your side, extending his arm across your shoulders as you give in, and finally lean your head into him.

“good. thats good.” he hums.

“i also love black. even though its not a colour.”

and yet, despite the warmth, and the care, you’re still expecting the worst in the end.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a soft hum echoes across your dull hall, the only recognised pressure being that of the faint music playing a few doors down, seeping into the crack of your apartment the silence suddenly so noticed. gone is the intense, breaking tension your ex took with him the night you met niki, replaced with days filled with constant golden hours.

the often, too often fights over simple mishaps— why you were home so late, the clothes you wore, the easily forgettable, yet so dearly held onto discourse. your mind, your soul may have let go of him, you may have recognised it wasn’t the man you were sad about.

but your heart refused to recognise the true reason.

the thought, that anyone— anyone, could just do that to you. despite your effort.

and what made your emotions clench the most, out of this whole situation, was that he never made you feel scared it would happen again. ever since niki showed up, everything has felt slow.

calm.

settled.

so now, as you sit on your balcony, the setting sun catching your hair in such a light that even you notice it highlighted in your peripheral, you close your eyes, and breathe.

being alone, knowing all you really had was those two, used to kill you.

maybe its niki, maybe its the relief of letting go, but now, now?— you just feel at peace. and youd like to think the thought of niki leaving doesnt gnaw at your brain regardless, but it does.

you like him.

you know that much.

and its terrifying, its calming, its annoying, its him.

after a few weeks, dwelling on that realisation, dealing— enjoying him as he visits, calls, anything, you notice how much tranquility an apartment can hold when, albeit subtle, is no longer filled with the faint stench of forgotten cigarettes. a hard process, of quitting, gone unnoticed. you no longer felt the need. it was almost like you didn’t have time to, when he was around so often.

the usually mundane weekday nights, spent with tired bones after a long day at work, a tired mind falling asleep next to a man who didn’t even seem there, were now— if not peaceful— filled with laughter. or chatter, or whatever else you and niki had got up to. he now had an overwhelming presence, all the time.

he was there to get excited with you when your favourite shows got a season 2, he was there to give you a hug whenever the feelings caught up, he was there when you just needed a distraction— whether that be a good fuck, or eating your weight in popcorn on his couch. he was there, always, over the past few weeks.

he is there, now, as you realise how much it is you like him, and how much you just want to pester him, be around him. especially when you’ve just got your period.

so, you pick up the phone, noticing the small “7:34PM” reading in the corner. it rings once, twice, before-

“hey.”

“hey pretty” he answers, always prepared with that dumb nickname. just barely making out the gruff in his voice— probably having been just woken up.

“i’m really hungry.” you sigh.

he chuckles. “are you now?”

“yes.”

a faint pause, before a laugh, almost like a sigh— yet a happy one— calls from his side.

“sounds like you want me to get you something.”

“i want cupcakes.” the tone in your voice is laughable, so serious over something so simple.

“okay” you can just hear the smile on his face. “ill go to the store princess.”

you hear him moving, -putting on some clothes maybe? “…i want specific ones. as in 1 hour away specific.” then he pauses, the shuffling about stilling.

“you want cupcakes that are 1 hour away? you cant get them anywhere else?

“correct. pink ones.” you add.

“ill be back soon.” and with that, he hangs up. leaving you, a smiling, giggly mess an hour and a half later as he announces his arrival with multiple boxes of pink, swirly, cupcakes.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the night after your escapade of frosting, giggles, and play fighting, you realise how you haven’t heard from him since then. only a few hours, just a day, gone so slowly without him. there was always, if not a visit, a text. something to make sure the friendship— whatever it was, hadn’t dissipated in 6 hours.

so, this time, instead of asking him to come over seductively, or call and ask for far away cupcakes, or heading out to your balcony to spy on him only to find him hanging from yours like he’s bloody romeo montague, you simply get up, and head next door.

you breathe in as you get to his place. only a few metres away— the distance doesn’t give you much time to turn away, or think.

so, you stand, and breathe. it was only a little while. you tell yourself.

its not like we’re even together.

but regardless, it still scares you. just the thought of, whatever you had, slowly going away, was awful. enough to make your breath hilt. at the least.

finally, you knock.

and he answers, just a few moments later.

“oh, hey.” he sighs, meeting your eyes for only a second, before standing there as you watch him dumbfounded, over the tiny fact that he didn’t call you pretty.

“hi.” you reply, your voice small. he perks up slightly, opening the door wide to let you in, motioning his hand to get you to sit on his couch.

a show still plays on the screen just across from where you where both sitting now, something forgotten amidst the tension, the awkwardness, the anxiety floating between you two.

you sit comfortably, but don’t dare touch him. usually, that would be nothing.

he’s been inside you for gods sakes.

moments pass, maybe even hours— at least it feels that way, just filled with silence, subtle glances taken at each other when you think the other isn’t looking, and a knowing recognition, that this isn’t your normal silence. where you’ve both had a long day, and you both need quiet, paired beautifully with the others silent presence.

no.

you feel like you don’t belong, like your some giant alien sitting right next to him.

but you refuse to fall back into how you were.

so, you muster up all of the courage in your bones, your blood, your skin, your nerves- and lay down— letting your head fall across his chest.

he doesn’t tense up.

“you okay?” you thumb at his shirt, his eyes still looking away, but making contact with your own in sudden pulses.

“yeah, yeah i’m fine. just been thinking, we, we’re just like, friends right?” he mutters, his features remaining normal— a polar opposite to your widened eyes, and slightly gaping mouth.

“if you want, i mean, yeah. i guess so.” you mumble out, peering up at him, begging for him to look you in the eye. “why?”

he chuckles. “didn’t want you to get too attached to me now.” as if it was a joke. "youll be fine without me, if i ever do happen to leave?"

you nod, your lips pursed so tightly to hold back any threatening tears.

and you laugh along too.

and after a little while, laying slightly tangled together, your hand now matching his as he strokes your arm, you tracing his tattoos, it feels almost back to normal.

almost as if he hadn't confirmed that he didn't want more just a few moments ago.

almost as if now, you two weren't acting completely in love.

almost as if you hadn’t noticed the hickey on his neck, and on his chest.

and you hadn’t kissed him, not like that, for weeks now.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you try to convince yourself that it was on you. you had thought to hard about him, he wanted casual with you. hell, thats probably what you should’ve wanted, considering your last relationship.

you try to remind yourself that he had even said when you met, he’d always wanted to be friends, that you hoped for more.

but regardless, after multiple nights, weeks, of messing around together, fucking around together, and understanding each other, its reasonable to find yourself shocked, sitting on your balcony again, smoking. something you haven’t done since that night you met him. something you decided to pick up again, after the oh so evident ghosting you’ve endured over the past week. as if all this time together meant nothing.

first it was no responses— that day of silence, then the realisation that he had been with another. then no showing up on the balcony. then only coming home late. really late, later than usual with his job. then it was the tears, knowing how out of nowhere this all was. thinking you had it all with him.

until you hear a faint knock at your door. after weeks. after too long.

and you knew who it was. you knew that knock. you knew it from the nights you would spend together. the best ones being when you would sit and talk about the serious stuff. then the dumb. then the sad. whether it be his guilt over never joining the military, your loneliness, or your stupid favourite colours, it was always something to be remembered.

so, knowing it was him, you don’t open the door. you sit. and think. and notice after a few minutes a faint rustling sound nudging the floor, before footsteps receding. and you realise how he didn’t go to his balcony again, and he didn’t check on you.

giving up on your restraint, you head to the door, an overwhelming presence in the room. as if it was pulling you over, just needing you to check. see if maybe he is still there, maybe he meant it all those nights ago when he said he wouldn’t leave.

then you remember, all those nights ago, how he mentioned his refusal to strong connections.

oh.

so, when you open the door, expecting nothing now, expecting his fear for connection to represent itself in the flesh as you swing it open, you gasp. just faintly.

there, glaring at you, with the softest eyes, is a small note attached to some black flowers.

with shaky hands, you lean towards it, lifting up the small bundle and walking backwards, into the safety of your home. of the loneliness of your home. and you read.

y/n,

i’m sorry. i know this is sudden, but i couldn’t do it. i’m not good with this, feelings when they mean so much. you say often how you dont care for your ex. how you didn’t even like him much. but i see you, and i know it still hurts you. and thats what scares me. i dont think i could live with myself if i ever made you feel that way. and i know i wouldnt be okay with being just friends.

i don’t understand my own feelings here, but i know i want more. and im scared, terrified that i cant give you what you deserve. hell, no one could.

i will be back one day, and when i do get home, i hope you will be doing well. please take care of yourself. the cigarettes hurt your lungs.

love

-riki.

you gasp, the thoughts and realisation tearing through your airways as you lurch as fast as you can at the doorknob after processing what he’s decided. what he’s going to do.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you mutter, the shock and desperation ripping through you as you sprint down, hoping, praying you’re heading down the same street he’s on, heavy droplets landing against your bare back, only slightly covered by a loose singlet, and whatever else pyjamas you so happened to throw on. not caring for your style, or how insane you look running through the cold rain, tears matching the drops as they rush down your face.

until finally, you hit a dead end. and know that your too late. that he’s already gone, and you recognised it too late.

why couldn’t he be more brave?

then, a deep, annoying voice pulls you out of your state.

“y/n?” he stands there, shocked, relieved, and mad all at once. as if he should be surprised to see you.

“baby-” he cuts himself off. instantly. “what are you doing here? you’re going to get a cold, you barely have proper shoes on-” and then you do it, you cut him off before he can notice his senseless rambling, and get scared of how much he cares for you again.

“why, why did you leave?” you cry into his chest, leaping into him, wrapping your arms around him so tightly he couldn’t even think of breaking away. “you said you wouldn’t, you said i would have you forever. i know its scary, but, fuck, ki-” you sob, looking up at him now. "if not for me-, no. why not for me? i thought, i thought you had changed your mind, about, about that. why would you want to leave? you can stop talking to me, you can give up, you can be scared, but don’t leave, don’t take the free place, please.” you ramble, word vomiting all over him and he stands there, stunned and just accepting it all. all your frustration, sadness, and all his realisation.

his realisation that getting close to you, and the possibility of hurting you wasn’t his biggest fear. it was actually hurting you. and thats what he's just done. in the attempt to avoid the bad, he committed the worst. his realisation that, he does understand his feelings. that oh yeah, he's fucked. and he’s totally, utterly, digustingly-

“i’m in love with you.”

you stop, immediately looking at him with wide eyes, not believing your own hearing at first.

“fuck. i’m sorry. jesus. i’m so sorry. i cant believe i’m realising that now. god, i’m sorry. i wont leave. never again, pretty.” now he’s the one rambling, his eyebrows pressing into each other as he finally moves, wrapping his arms around you, still standing in the rain. the now pouring rain.

“i forgive you.” its almost pathetic, really. how fast you say it. but despite that, you understand why you do. and you understand why he needed the forgiveness in the first place.

and you understand why he’s worth it.

regardless, he cant hear you anyways. not over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement, heavy all around you. he tilts his head, a habit he may never get over, indicating his confusion. and so, sick of all the sadness, and the hurt, you lean onto your tippy toes, and kiss him. sweet and gentle, cupping his cold cheeks.

and as he leans in, his lips silently whispering his care, love, and admiration for you as they move against yours, you know. you know it will be okay.

especially after you mention how you just so happen to love him too, and he cant remember a day he was happier in his whole life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

if there are any mistakes pls ignore i did not proofread... i honestluy dont think this one is any better but again i wanted to get it out !! @yjwswhilom

[jsongprk]

BALCONY BLISS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 0.2

: ̗̀➛ ORIGINAL

in which you and niki are neighbours, and have never crossed that line. until one night, facing the exhausting aspects of life, you do.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi so if u saw the og before i changed it no u didnt.. i disliked how i went about the angst so. heres the redo! im only keeping the og up as it has likes so... me baymous?? i lowkey still hate this one but we ball..

warnings/genre: smut, slight fluff if you squint, slight angst, unprotected p in v, drinking, smoking,,, lmk if more?

wc- 5410

if there was one thing you learnt from college, its that not everyone stays.

if there was one thing you didn’t learn from college, its that everyone would turn out to be awful.

including, maybe you. arguing with your now— well ex— after he cheated on you, surely wouldn’t have been good for your neighbours. especially not with how paper thin these walls are, especially not with how loud you were.

you weren’t even really mad at him. sure, he’s a dick. but you never pictured yourself marrying him or anything.

so, as you stand in the breeze just outside your warm living room, breathing in the comfort of your cig—

“you should really stop that.”

a sudden voice, very deep voice, pulls you out of your thoughts. to your left, the usually empty balcony identical to yours—save for a few plants here and there, now has a presence. a seemingly very tall, annoying, presence.

“pardon?” you ask, not having to yell, or quieten down for that matter. your apartment complex was unfortunately quite small— the space between you was nothing short of miniscule.

“the smoke. it keeps me up. i have work early.” he replies back, his elbows bent on the railing as he clasps his fingers together, looking directly into your eyes. his face, now illuminated as he comes into the light, makes you tense up slightly. how has he gone unnoticed by you for so long?

“lot of demands coming from someone i cant even put a name to.” your eyebrows hitching up, frowning at his smug face.

“you could.” he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “you’re pretty.”

you scoff, appalled by the direction of this very, very unneeded conversation.

“no thanks.” you turn away, flicking the bud out of your fingers and stomping onto it, putting out your only comfort for the night.

“because you got broken up with?” he calls back, halting your movements instantly.

“what? how the hell did you-”

“usually when you smoke i hear talking along with it. you sit with him out here all the time. he sounds like a prick.” he cuts you off, shocking you even more.

why the hell is he so attentive?

“yeah, well. could’ve heard that before i dated him.” you mutter, turning your head towards the free house you now live in. empty, but free.

“what’d he do?” the man asks, resting his head against his fist as he awaits your answer, looking as if he’d been curious the whole night.

and you know what? you’re done being the one who settles your frustration through a puff of smoke and a sip of a drink. your annoying, sexy, prick of a neighbour can deal with it tonight.

“he cheated.” his eyes widen— without shock over the fact, more over your decision to actually talk to him. the guy who told you off for smoking for his own benefit, and proceeded to flirt despite your miserable look. “with one of my friends, no less.”

“why’d you even date this dude?” you eye him. then shrug— realising you don’t even really know. college had been a lot. it was easy to have him there, sometimes.

not when he’s off fucking your friend.

“i wouldn’t do that to you.” he perks up, tearing his eyes off you as he sighs. as if thats the most normal sentence to ever leave his mouth. “wanna talk about it?”

“are you just trying to get into my pants when i’m in a vulnerable state?” you ask, trying to hide the temptation. whether he was acting interested or not, both outcomes could work for you tonight. both are distractions.

you weren’t even sad over the guy. just disappointed you even let yourself go that long with him.

“no. you can even get to know my name tonight.” he answers, shaking his head, slightly pouting.

you stare at him, now smirking slightly, wishing you had your smoke still in between your fingers. or brushed hair. or at least some makeup on.

“jeez, third base already?” you say, finally enticing something other than a smirk out of this guy as he chuckles, muttering something back.

“i wish.”

now you chuckle, despite the rude, audacity of this dude, he already seems better than your ex. better sense of humour, at the very least.

“is there a word for the opposite of a gentleman?” you ask him out of nowhere, your teeth showing as you smile at his puzzled look.

“hmm.. prick? uncouth?” he ponders, shoving his hands in his pockets as he shivers slightly, the cool night air hitting you both.

“thats the name ill put to your face.” pulling your phone out, you open contacts, and begin jotting something down.

“you want to remember my face?” he gasps, placing a hand over his chest.

“give me your number.” you reply, eyeing him as he settles down from his dramatising— only to perk up again after recognising your words, and quickly grasping out his phone to make sure you save it.

“does this mean we get to talk?” his voice raising slightly, making the suggestive tone in his voice incredibly obvious as he leans over the railing.

“no, i’m going to bed. night prick.” you smile at him, turning off your balcony lamp as he chuckles, yelling back—

“smokings also bad for your health, pretty!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

of course, the night after your strange, but oddly comforting encounter with that- guy, you had come to one conclusion.

you were still thinking about him— whether that him was the prick from last night, or the prick who had just cheated on you, the statement would remain true. and you needed a distraction from one, and help from the other.

standing there, much more confident— yet slightly stunned— there he was. “Riki Nishimura. thats my name.” broad and tall, leaning against your doorway as your flushed face greets him once again. you let out a puff of air, shock at how perfect he is, annoyance towards that, or whatever it was, you let a slight inch of nerves out. “just come in.” and he smirks.

instantly pressing you against the cold wall, his lips follow suite onto your own, crashing your bodies against each other in fiery passion.

as his tongue breaks the barrier of your mouth, he slips his palms under your thighs, lifting you up, muttering “where?”

“left door-” you gasp against his lips as his hands squeeze you, rash and desperate as he makes his way into your room.

“jesus baby, how’d i not get you sooner?” he mumbles, diving into your neck as you fall back onto your bed, pulling your hoodie up and over your head, your cheeks slightly flushed under the small glow of the light protruding from your living room.

“don’t have me, nishimura.” you smile, before gasping at the feeling of his teeth nipping you slightly. he then moves to one of your breasts, still partially covered by your bra, alternating between them until each had been covered with traces of his lips.

“yet.” he mutters against you. “i like this. very pretty.” he says, thumbing at the lace against the very area he had been attacking with his lips moments earlier.

“want me to keep it on?” you reply, smirking as his hand instantly goes to the clasp clinging to your back.

“god, no.”

and before you could even react to the cold air hitting your bare chest, or the warm feeling of his mouth on you, he’s moving again, guiding his hand down to your aching core.

“jesus, you’re wet. don’t even have your panties off yet baby. he suck that bad?” he says lowly, groaning as he presses into you with more pressure, edging near exactly where you needed him.

“you sound like, fuck, you sound like a porn star.” you try to laugh, knowing you’re only saying this because he never did anything like this, and all of a sudden you are finding very new things about yourself, but he cuts off your giggling, replacing it with a very sharp gasp as he swipes his fingers through your folds, pushing your underwear to the side.

“i know you like it pretty, look at how you’re squirming from just my words.” you eye him, knowing full well he knows its not just his words— his fingers circling your clit, ignoring your need for more.

“please, fuck- riki,” you whimper, gripping his arms.

“i’ve got you baby.” he mutters, holding you as your climax rips through you, helping you ride it out as you come down from your high, panting slightly as your back hits the soft bed, riki still whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

as you finally regain your thoughts, your prop yourself up on your elbows, eyeing the rough bulge in his sweatpants, before catching the smirk across his face as he follows your eyes.

“what do you need?” he coos, willing it out of you.

“you know what.” you say shyly, annoyance creeping through.

giving in slightly, he matches your clothing situation, slipping his top off to reveal his sculpted torso. “say it.”

“fuck, ki. please, just take me already.” you groan, mouth nearly drooling at the sight of him as he slips out of his bottoms, helping you to undress simultaneously.

“atta girl.”

before you even get a chance to process how hot that was, or how big he is, he’s pushing into you, light thrusts as you stretch so deliciously around him— both of you groaning together as he hunches over you, his head in your neck. “so fucking perfect baby.”

as he bottoms out, giving you a few seconds to adjust, he refuses to hold back on the praise. subtle “good girl” and “doing so well for me, princess” leaving his lips continuously as he allows you to get used to the thick stretch.

despite the aching need rushing to his cock, he doesn’t dare move before you finally nod your head, closing your locked jaw before swinging it right back open as his hips slam into yours.

you grasp for his back, eliciting a strong moan out of him.

“gods, scratch me up baby.” you do.

“yeah, mark me up just like that.” you do.

as he continues his ruthless hammering into your now drenched cunt, you feel the sharp coil tighten once again, your sounds getting ever so louder.

“f- fuck ki!” you gasp as he speeds up, both of you chasing your high.

“jesus baby, all those pretty sounds just for me? doing so well.” he grunts, leaning down to nip at your neck.

“oh god, i’m going to cum, ki please-” you whimper, before he cuts you off, his thrusts slamming into you.

“not yet baby, i’m close, stay with me. together, yeah? will you do that for me?” he leans back up, his dazed eyes meeting yours as you slam them shut, bathing in the overwhelming pleasure.

“eyes on me.” he commands, your eyes immediately obeying him as you nod your head vigorously, his hand coming down to circle your clit once again.

you gasp, before digging your nails into his shoulder blades, him burying himself to the hilt inside you.

you both slowly come down from your high, as he immediately wraps his arms around you, basically forcing you to accept the sweet affection of aftercare.

“did so well for me.” he mumbles, stroking your hair for a hot second until his breathing slows, finally pulling out.

“ill be back in 2 seconds.” he says, clearly.

you nod lazily, too wrapped up in your state to even really recognise his footsteps as he wonders mindlessly into your bathroom, before returning with a warm hand towel, cleaning you up.

before you nod off, your head fall onto the warm chest of the man who just turned your world upside down. literally.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

its suffocating, when you wake up. knowing what you’ve done. it felt insanely right and wrong all at the same time. for gods sakes, the guy cheated on you, and you feel bad for pretty much moving on in a few nights. or maybe it isn’t that.

you eye the clock perched on your wall, not making out the exact time but knowing its too early to be called morning and too late to be called night.

so, you get up. as usual when it gets too tight—when everything starts closing in slightly, you tiptoe your way out to your balcony, careful not to wake the, not-so-prick, laying in your bed as you sit down, bringing your knees to your chest, realising the fluffy pyjamas you don’t remember putting on.

clearly not careful enough, however. “cant sleep?” a raspy voice questions from behind, subtly approaching and sitting next to you, propping one knee up as he lays a thin blanket across your shoulders, draping onto your back. “whats on your mind?”

you sigh, shakingly.

“she wasn’t just one of my friends. who he cheated with.” a pause, and a sigh. “she was my best friend.”

you laugh, bouncing your forearm against your knee, trying to will the tears away.

“she was basically my fucking sister. i didn’t like him that much. but at one point he was my friend too, and we shared good times.” you feel almost empty, hollowed out.

“i don’t really have anyone now. except her.” you smile, pointing towards your lighter, resting near the rigid box of cigs on the rim of your balconies flimsy railing.

finally, you turn to meet his eyes— his very sad, and very worrying eyes.

but theres something else there, something hidden behind those irises, that you cant quite place yet.

then he smiles, just barely.

“i think this is our first time having a conversation.” he smiles, fully now, brimming as he looks straight ahead again, your shoulders nearly touching. “a real one, not just a nod at each other or a bland ‘hi’.”

now, he turns, facing you more evidently in his body language. “ive wanted to be close with you for a while now, y/n.” you take in a small breath.

“at first it was something like tradition gnawing at me, the desire to be on good terms with the neighbours. share sugar when we needed it, things like that.” you let out a faint chuckle. “then, one day i heard that idiot boyfriend of yours slam your door when i was sleeping. i was mad— pissed off, he did it a lot. so, having had enough, i walk out to the balcony— i knew if i went outside no one would be there. i was going to yell at you, tell you to be mindful of others.” you turn fully towards him now, only now noticing just how deeply he looks at you.

“then i saw you, standing there, still staring at the door. not moving. like you were just done. then slowly, you turned around, tears brimming in your eyes, and just silently walked out—parallel to me, sat, and simply looked. you didn’t even notice me.”

how deeply he sees you.

you stare at him, stunned— shockingly, you can recall the night, despite it being like so many others, that was the night you-

“that was when you started,” he nods his head to the small box that had been glaring at you all night, “started smoking again.”

“since that night, i was so desperate to be friends. maybe not even friends, just aware of each other.” you feel a small tear travel down your cheek.

“you have me, now. you’ve had me since that night, and you wont lose me.” you feel your teeth jabbing into your right cheek.

“i barely even know you.” you whisper, trying to convince yourself to not fall too deep into this- friendship, fuck-buddies, whatever it was.

he hums. “my dad was in the army, died before i was born. i work as a bartender most nights, very late. my lucky number is seven. my favourite colour is black-” he stops— looking at your lips as your voice stutters slightly. “i know its a shade. be quiet.” he smiles, mocking frustration. “and for a long time refused to make any strong connections with anyone.” his grin fades slightly, looking into your eyes as you process the information.

“..why?” you tilt your head slightly.

he nods his head, as if gulping down the information he’d never really wanted to regurgitate. “i wanted to follow in my fathers footsteps. never even knew the guy, but i reckon till the day i die they’ll keep a spot open for me in his favour. apparently he was pretty good at what he did.”

vulnerable, you think, one more time.

“id rather you didn’t.” he smiles, before moving back into your side, extending his arm across your shoulders as you give in, and finally lean your head into him.

“good. thats good.” he hums.

“i also love black. even though its not a colour.”

and yet, despite the warmth, and the care, you’re still expecting the worst in the end.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a soft hum echoes across your dull hall, the only recognised pressure being that of the faint music playing a few doors down, seeping into the crack of your apartment the silence suddenly so noticed. gone is the intense, breaking tension your ex took with him the night you met niki, replaced with days filled with constant golden hours.

the often, too often fights over simple mishaps— why you were home so late, the clothes you wore, the easily forgettable, yet so dearly held onto discourse. your mind, your soul may have let go of him, you may have recognised it wasn’t the man you were sad about.

but your heart refused to recognise the true reason.

the thought, that anyone— anyone, could just do that to you. despite your effort.

and what made your emotions clench the most, out of this whole situation, was that he never made you feel scared it would happen again. ever since niki showed up, everything has felt slow.

calm.

settled.

so now, as you sit on your balcony, the setting sun catching your hair in such a light that even you notice it highlighted in your peripheral, you close your eyes, and breathe.

being alone, knowing all you really had was those two, used to kill you.

maybe its niki, maybe its the relief of letting go, but now, now?— you just feel at peace. and youd like to think the thought of niki leaving doesnt gnaw at your brain regardless, but it does.

you like him.

you know that much.

and its terrifying, its calming, its annoying, its him.

after a few weeks, dwelling on that realisation, dealing— enjoying him as he visits, calls, anything, you notice how much tranquility an apartment can hold when, albeit subtle, is no longer filled with the faint stench of forgotten cigarettes. a hard process, of quitting, gone unnoticed. you no longer felt the need. it was almost like you didn’t have time to, when he was around so often.

the usually mundane weekday nights, spent with tired bones after a long day at work, a tired mind falling asleep next to a man who didn’t even seem there, were now— if not peaceful— filled with laughter. or chatter, or whatever else you and niki had got up to. he now had an overwhelming presence, all the time.

he was there to get excited with you when your favourite shows got a season 2, he was there to give you a hug whenever the feelings caught up, he was there when you just needed a distraction— whether that be a good fuck, or eating your weight in popcorn on his couch. he was there, always, over the past few weeks.

he is there, now, as you realise how much it is you like him, and how much you just want to pester him, be around him. especially when you’ve just got your period.

so, you pick up the phone, noticing the small “7:34PM” reading in the corner. it rings once, twice, before-

“hey.”

“hey pretty” he answers, always prepared with that dumb nickname. just barely making out the gruff in his voice— probably having been just woken up.

“i’m really hungry.” you sigh.

he chuckles. “are you now?”

“yes.”

a faint pause, before a laugh, almost like a sigh— yet a happy one— calls from his side.

“sounds like you want me to get you something.”

“i want cupcakes.” the tone in your voice is laughable, so serious over something so simple.

“okay” you can just hear the smile on his face. “ill go to the store princess.”

you hear him moving, -putting on some clothes maybe? “…i want specific ones. as in 1 hour away specific.” then he pauses, the shuffling about stilling.

“you want cupcakes that are 1 hour away? you cant get them anywhere else?

“correct. pink ones.” you add.

“ill be back soon.” and with that, he hangs up. leaving you, a smiling, giggly mess an hour and a half later as he announces his arrival with multiple boxes of pink, swirly, cupcakes.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the night after your escapade of frosting, giggles, and play fighting, you realise how you haven’t heard from him since then. only a few hours, just a day, gone so slowly without him. there was always, if not a visit, a text. something to make sure the friendship— whatever it was, hadn’t dissipated in 6 hours.

so, this time, instead of asking him to come over seductively, or call and ask for far away cupcakes, or heading out to your balcony to spy on him only to find him hanging from yours like he’s bloody romeo montague, you simply get up, and head next door.

you breathe in as you get to his place. only a few metres away— the distance doesn’t give you much time to turn away, or think.

so, you stand, and breathe. it was only a little while. you tell yourself.

its not like we’re even together.

but regardless, it still scares you. just the thought of, whatever you had, slowly going away, was awful. enough to make your breath hilt. at the least.

finally, you knock.

and he answers, just a few moments later.

“oh, hey.” he sighs, meeting your eyes for only a second, before standing there as you watch him dumbfounded, over the tiny fact that he didn’t call you pretty.

“hi.” you reply, your voice small. he perks up slightly, opening the door wide to let you in, motioning his hand to get you to sit on his couch.

a show still plays on the screen just across from where you where both sitting now, something forgotten amidst the tension, the awkwardness, the anxiety floating between you two.

you sit comfortably, but don’t dare touch him. usually, that would be nothing.

he’s been inside you for gods sakes.

moments pass, maybe even hours— at least it feels that way, just filled with silence, subtle glances taken at each other when you think the other isn’t looking, and a knowing recognition, that this isn’t your normal silence. where you’ve both had a long day, and you both need quiet, paired beautifully with the others silent presence.

no.

you feel like you don’t belong, like your some giant alien sitting right next to him.

but you refuse to fall back into how you were.

so, you muster up all of the courage in your bones, your blood, your skin, your nerves- and lay down— letting your head fall across his chest.

he doesn’t tense up.

“you okay?” you thumb at his shirt, his eyes still looking away, but making contact with your own in sudden pulses.

“yeah, yeah i’m fine. just been thinking, we, we’re just like, friends right?” he mutters, his features remaining normal— a polar opposite to your widened eyes, and slightly gaping mouth.

“if you want, i mean, yeah. i guess so.” you mumble out, peering up at him, begging for him to look you in the eye. “why?”

he chuckles. “didn’t want you to get too attached to me now.” as if it was a joke. "youll be fine without me, if i ever do happen to leave?"

you nod, your lips pursed so tightly to hold back any threatening tears.

and you laugh along too.

and after a little while, laying slightly tangled together, your hand now matching his as he strokes your arm, you tracing his tattoos, it feels almost back to normal.

almost as if he hadn't confirmed that he didn't want more just a few moments ago.

almost as if now, you two weren't acting completely in love.

almost as if you hadn’t noticed the hickey on his neck, and on his chest.

and you hadn’t kissed him, not like that, for weeks now.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you try to convince yourself that it was on you. you had thought to hard about him, he wanted casual with you. hell, thats probably what you should’ve wanted, considering your last relationship.

you try to remind yourself that he had even said when you met, he’d always wanted to be friends, that you hoped for more.

but regardless, after multiple nights, weeks, of messing around together, fucking around together, and understanding each other, its reasonable to find yourself shocked, sitting on your balcony again, smoking. something you haven’t done since that night you met him. something you decided to pick up again, after the oh so evident ghosting you’ve endured over the past week. as if all this time together meant nothing.

first it was no responses— that day of silence, then the realisation that he had been with another. then no showing up on the balcony. then only coming home late. really late, later than usual with his job. then it was the tears, knowing how out of nowhere this all was. thinking you had it all with him.

until you hear a faint knock at your door. after weeks. after too long.

and you knew who it was. you knew that knock. you knew it from the nights you would spend together. the best ones being when you would sit and talk about the serious stuff. then the dumb. then the sad. whether it be his guilt over never joining the military, your loneliness, or your stupid favourite colours, it was always something to be remembered.

so, knowing it was him, you don’t open the door. you sit. and think. and notice after a few minutes a faint rustling sound nudging the floor, before footsteps receding. and you realise how he didn’t go to his balcony again, and he didn’t check on you.

giving up on your restraint, you head to the door, an overwhelming presence in the room. as if it was pulling you over, just needing you to check. see if maybe he is still there, maybe he meant it all those nights ago when he said he wouldn’t leave.

then you remember, all those nights ago, how he mentioned his refusal to strong connections.

oh.

so, when you open the door, expecting nothing now, expecting his fear for connection to represent itself in the flesh as you swing it open, you gasp. just faintly.

there, glaring at you, with the softest eyes, is a small note attached to some black flowers.

with shaky hands, you lean towards it, lifting up the small bundle and walking backwards, into the safety of your home. of the loneliness of your home. and you read.

y/n,

i’m sorry. i know this is sudden, but i couldn’t do it. i’m not good with this, feelings when they mean so much. you say often how you dont care for your ex. how you didn’t even like him much. but i see you, and i know it still hurts you. and thats what scares me. i dont think i could live with myself if i ever made you feel that way. and i know i wouldnt be okay with being just friends.

i don’t understand my own feelings here, but i know i want more. and im scared, terrified that i cant give you what you deserve. hell, no one could.

i will be back one day, and when i do get home, i hope you will be doing well. please take care of yourself. the cigarettes hurt your lungs.

love

-riki.

you gasp, the thoughts and realisation tearing through your airways as you lurch as fast as you can at the doorknob after processing what he’s decided. what he’s going to do.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you mutter, the shock and desperation ripping through you as you sprint down, hoping, praying you’re heading down the same street he’s on, heavy droplets landing against your bare back, only slightly covered by a loose singlet, and whatever else pyjamas you so happened to throw on. not caring for your style, or how insane you look running through the cold rain, tears matching the drops as they rush down your face.

until finally, you hit a dead end. and know that your too late. that he’s already gone, and you recognised it too late.

why couldn’t he be more brave?

then, a deep, annoying voice pulls you out of your state.

“y/n?” he stands there, shocked, relieved, and mad all at once. as if he should be surprised to see you.

“baby-” he cuts himself off. instantly. “what are you doing here? you’re going to get a cold, you barely have proper shoes on-” and then you do it, you cut him off before he can notice his senseless rambling, and get scared of how much he cares for you again.

“why, why did you leave?” you cry into his chest, leaping into him, wrapping your arms around him so tightly he couldn’t even think of breaking away. “you said you wouldn’t, you said i would have you forever. i know its scary, but, fuck, ki-” you sob, looking up at him now. "if not for me-, no. why not for me? i thought, i thought you had changed your mind, about, about that. why would you want to leave? you can stop talking to me, you can give up, you can be scared, but don’t leave, don’t take the free place, please.” you ramble, word vomiting all over him and he stands there, stunned and just accepting it all. all your frustration, sadness, and all his realisation.

his realisation that getting close to you, and the possibility of hurting you wasn’t his biggest fear. it was actually hurting you. and thats what he's just done. in the attempt to avoid the bad, he committed the worst. his realisation that, he does understand his feelings. that oh yeah, he's fucked. and he’s totally, utterly, digustingly-

“i’m in love with you.”

you stop, immediately looking at him with wide eyes, not believing your own hearing at first.

“fuck. i’m sorry. jesus. i’m so sorry. i cant believe i’m realising that now. god, i’m sorry. i wont leave. never again, pretty.” now he’s the one rambling, his eyebrows pressing into each other as he finally moves, wrapping his arms around you, still standing in the rain. the now pouring rain.

“i forgive you.” its almost pathetic, really. how fast you say it. but despite that, you understand why you do. and you understand why he needed the forgiveness in the first place.

and you understand why he’s worth it.

regardless, he cant hear you anyways. not over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement, heavy all around you. he tilts his head, a habit he may never get over, indicating his confusion. and so, sick of all the sadness, and the hurt, you lean onto your tippy toes, and kiss him. sweet and gentle, cupping his cold cheeks.

and as he leans in, his lips silently whispering his care, love, and admiration for you as they move against yours, you know. you know it will be okay.

especially after you mention how you just so happen to love him too, and he cant remember a day he was happier in his whole life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

if there are any mistakes pls ignore i did not proofread... i honestluy dont think this one is any better but again i wanted to get it out !! @yjwswhilom