#BUT both those things r fake

[rowanhoney]

Just having one of those regular little panics about the incompetence of the NHS

[hiddenbeks]

hmm. isabeau teaching brynjolf ballroom dances

[tortademaracuya]

i watched some urban exploration videos again today and while thinking how disrespectful and annoying the whole video was I remembered my OC lol he would fucking do all that shit

[sleepyjuice]

r u mine? — jj maybank

summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.

word count: 4181

warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff

a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3

“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.

“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.

“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.

“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.

You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.

You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.

But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.

So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.

You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.

jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??

jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?

jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b

You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.

You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.

You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.

This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.

“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.

Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.

“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.

“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“

“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.

“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.

you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about

you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao

you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??

you: have a good night at work! <3

You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.

“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.

“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…

An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.

You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.

You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.

“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.

You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.

You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.

“Oh, so you do have a phone.”

You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.

“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.

“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.

“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.

“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.

“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.

“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.

“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.

“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.

“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.

“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.

“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.

You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.

His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.

“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.

You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.

His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.

“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.

“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.

“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.

“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.

The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.

“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.

“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.

You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.

“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.

“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.

“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.

“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.

Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.

“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.

You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.

“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.

You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.

“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.

You didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.

He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.

“Don’t fuck with me —“

“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.

“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“

“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.

“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.

You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.

“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.

The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.

His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.

“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.

“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.

“Mhm, I’m still yours.”

[bitchlessdino]

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) [1]

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Word count: current 12.5k (total w.c. 34.4k) rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now. tags: MDNI, Childhood rivals to Best friends to Ex-best Friends to Strangers to Fake Dating to Lovers (try to keep up), childhood trauma, mentions of neglectful parents, random idol features, reader and seungcheol in their 30s, grump x sunshine, fake dating au, office au, taekwondo buddies, virgin!seungcheol, experienced!reader, food & alcohol scenes, yearning, smut tags to be provided in part 2

author note: Thank you to @tusswrites @gyuswhore @lovetaroandtaemin the title is so fucking long because this is the longest fucking thing i've written in my entire life. A little inspired by those ridiculously long ass anime titles that don’t need to be that length like they don’t need to be this fucking long, but they just are and it’s dumb, but I cackle every time I look at it. I'm dedicating this to @haologram who does this on the regular somehow and has been supporting me throughout the whole process bc this drove me nuts.

“Looking for fake girlfriend for hire aged 25-35, preferably with job, neat, and single. Negotiable compensation. About myself. I am a 30yo, 5’10 male with six figure job trying to relate to my colleagues by appearing as though I have a Significant Other. Your required duties will only be your punctual company to public events. Serious inquires only. Thank you.”

You stared long and hard at the Craigslist listing before quickly shooting a message, not giving yourself a moment to hesitate and regret your choices and quickly clicked off the window to avert your attention elsewhere. 

Craigslist was not a website you browsed every day, but today was not like every day. Today commemorated your last and final friend who celebrated her relationship hitting their two year milestone, reminding you that you’re the final single on the lonely island that was your life.

For as long as you could remember, everyone—including you—had been in some kind of relationship. And for some convoluted reason, having a girlfriend/wife/mother status mattered in the circles you ran, especially now when your dating history has been stretched and chewed like bubble gum. At this point, you weren’t closed off to anything, not even fake relationships.

You were sick and tired of putting in the effort of meeting these guys with nothing to come out of it; it was dud after dud, shitty date after shitty date. At the end of the day, you knew you were just meeting other people to satisfy the expectations of others, succumbing to the pressure of being coupled up with anyone to have your happy ending.

This was your chance to say fuck it. If they were all so insistent on seeing you date someone, you were going to give them just that. It didn’t matter who it was.

The Craigslist guy seemed to be in the same boat. Albeit, his situation sounded more unique compared to yours, he was also just trying to survive in this inherently judgemental world. You could imagine a compromise that would benefit you both correspondingly. It was just a matter of convincing your new potential faux beau that you were in desperate need of his assistance.

Then again, how bad was his situation that he needed a fake girlfriend to make himself remotely likable?

You didn’t know it yet, but in Choi Seungcheol’s case, it was dire. 

The effect he had by walking through the sixty-story VENTE Co. building already brought locals to shivers, but the air of the department he led was frigid whenever he passed through. Each heavy footstep of his grew louder as he made his way to his private office, and always with that empty soulless stare that never ceases to miss a day at work. No subordinate would dare even think of locking eyes, nor breathe the oxygen lingering on him, until the door closed behind him with no air to escape.

Before Seungcheol came to power as office manager, the rumors circulating about how he got into his position of power before transferring over to his current branch were the kind you’d hear about in fiction. Word got around about the possible blood he spilled, the secrets he told, or even the secret withheld for exploitation to get where he is now. This wasn’t any lowly position, after all, he was ten to twenty years younger than his colleagues holding the same position, earlier on track than anyone else in the company for someone who wasn’t an heir or a product of nepotism. Everyone assumed the gossip must’ve had some truth to them. 

Even Chan, the poor new intern fresh out of college, had fallen victim to the water cooler talk and seamlessly fell into the office dynamics. He cowered in his cubicle after seeing Manager Choi pass through the hall, clutching the toner cartridge he was asked to change out that now stained his fingers. And a breath of relief escaped him to hear the sound of a closing door.

Seungcheol didn’t do anything aggressive or violent with the way he ran the office, but he was a man of a few words. He neither confirmed nor denied these rumors, he just never addressed them, thinking maybe that’s how it should stay. Instead, he let the stone-cold glare that made the hairs on people’s necks stand upright speak for him. He didn’t go to company events, or plan them for that matter, he would just work his hours (often more hours than less), send out his orders, and leave work without saying so much as a goodbye. 

And why would he have to? He was the boss. He didn’t need to do more than what was necessary.

Yet, there was something he craved that couldn’t be achieved in the current workplace climate. Something he didn’t realize until it was already too late to turn things around unless the world was flipped on its head. 

From a young age, he was taught being feared was a good thing. It’s why his parents would put him in hard-hitting hobbies like taekwondo, hapkido, and boxing. He was groomed to be a leader who was strong, demanded his power, and strived to be the apex.

Yet, he was never taught that being lonely was something that came along with it. That climbing ranks, that gaining power and authority could make him feel so empty inside. Just like climbing the top of Mount Everest alone, it was just as cold and lonesome if no one was there to see it.

One weekend, curiosity got the best of him, and he wondered on the search engines if this feeling was normal, if others had this problem, or if it was a side effect of his ambition. Research and being a net explorer was a hobby that he fell victim to on occasion, this being an extreme case where he could not seem to grasp. One trending word led to another and then the web sucked him into a spiral of Google snippets from Reddit stories to self-help guides. 

What had felt like minutes had actually been hours since he started his search and he was beginning to get impatient until articles about How to be Likeable popped on his screen. Like many of the others, it sounded like nonsense or gimmicky, but one title stood out to him amongst others.

He scoffed as he moved his mouse to scroll through the pages, thinking it couldn’t have been that easy or perfect, but it just was. Unlike everyone else’s advice that told him to ‘smile more’ or ‘show positive body language’ (whatever the hell that meant), if he had a significant other defending him and complimenting him all the time, he wouldn’t have to do the work. They would do all the talking for him. He just had to compensate them enough to make it happen. It was idiot proof.

And that’s how he found himself on Craigslist, the site that seemed to have it all with no exceptions. His post was decent, vague enough to not make his status or identity known, yet enticing enough to possibly arouse a candidate. He just had to be sure they were someone he could work with.

After scouring through about twenty to thirty scammy and near-illegal offers, one piqued his interest, the single sensible response amongst a hoard of crazies. Maybe he found his girl. His fake girl that is.

“Hello, Are you still looking for a girlfriend? I seem to suit all your criteria.”

Things were looking up for Seungcheol, all that was next was the meeting. Being the workaholic he was, Seungcheol only managed to squeeze you in for a 45-minute interview during lunch, but it had to be by the office, giving you both the smallest time window imaginable. His lunch was the only time he would be able to do transactions such as this, and any weekend of his was solely for his leisure. Talking business–such as a fake dating proposition–on his well deserved weekend was not something he wanted to pencil in his calendar.

The coffee shop was perfect, only a ten-minute walk from the VENTE Co. building if Seungcheol speed-walked, and if he was early enough, he could get a freshly made deli sliced sandwich they were known for to have on his way back. However, he didn’t want to prolong this interaction more than he needed to. He knew that others from the office would occasionally visit or pass by this same cafe, but it was the most viable option. He just needed everything to go according to plan and at his pace. So far, it seemed as if it was; all that was left was your punctual arrival–but that moment had passed ten minutes ago.

He looked at his watch impatiently, tapping his foot in the incessant way he would, sighing as everyone that came through the passing door didn't even spare him a glance, maybe even some actively avoiding his eyes. He started to wonder if his description of himself was specific enough: male in his 30s with dark hair in a tailored gray suit. It wasn’t rocket science. Yet, not one who arrived looked like his potential match.

Seungcheol was beginning to think he wasted his time, his energy, and his effort. Is that what it felt like? To put heart into something and be burned after. He hadn’t felt anything like this since—

He groaned, scanning the perimeter self consciously and never feeling more humiliated in his life. As if he was actually stood up from a date. Running his tongue against his molars, Seungcheol scoffed, plucking himself off his seat as he bowed his head to avoid eyes. He was filled with silent rage, seething with resentment for someone who did not even bother to show up and reject him in person. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t date. 

As if on cue, the automatic glass doors opened, and a hoard of familiar voices were boisterously laughing as they entered the cafe, joking and jabbing at each other, as if ready to cue the sitcom music any time now. However, as Seungcheol barely lifted his gaze, they stopped in their tracks, flight or fight responses taking over and the instinct to survive this encounter held precedence above anything else. They straighten their postures like soldiers in a line up, changing their light atmosphere in the flip of a switch. 

“Mr. Choi! Good to see you,” Seokmin greeted, his smile quivering. 

“D-do you like their coffee too! How good to know,” Soonyoung followed, eyes shifting. 

“Did you just have lunch, sir?” Chan managed to say while staring at his own feet, hiding behind Hansol, who respectfully nodded and kept eye contact to a minimum.

The office manager nodded, scheming an escape route to retain some ounce of the dignity he had left, if any. The exit was a mere couple of feet away. He could just walk out, and his subordinates wouldn’t have a say against it. The plan was ready to be set in motion until he felt something–rather someone, coiling their arm around his bicep. Their warmth jolted him erect, making him stand pin-straight, much like his employees when they came across him. 

His head snapped at the unheralded intruder, locking eyes with a pair unexpectedly warm and wide, staring back at him with an unspoken fondness, and glint of humor. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d seen them before, along with that smile that broke out so wide the cheekbones reached their eyes, but somehow still effortless.

“Forgot something?” You asked, beaming at him with anticipation, clinging to him for companionship.

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you, his intrigue now replaced with puzzlement and his head was filled with noise, none of which making any sense, starting with the person in front of him. “You–”

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

“You and Mr.Choi?”

“This is news to us!”

“You both look so good together!”

You quietly laughed as they all prodded you with questions, while your supposed boyfriend did what only what his motor skills would allow him; that was to observe, watching how your expression turned just naturally light and jovial as you blatantly lie in front of the strangers before you. It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Well, I’ve got to walk him back to the office,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “otherwise he will not go back, and he’ll lose track of time. It was nice meeting everyone. Maybe I can do it officially in better circumstances!”

“Of course! We’ll see you in the office, Mr. Choi!”

“Yeah, see you! Pleasure meeting you Miss!”

You made your way out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk and gunned for it as soon as you were out of their sight, all while he was still holding your hand, having not spoken a single word the entire altercation and not knowing a single word to speak thereafter. You sighed when you found an alleyway away from prying eyes, hands on your knees as you panted, reminding yourself you really needed to take advantage of that at home gym equipment you bought for yourself. “Finally. Wow, they’re really nosy, aren’t they?”

“Who the hell are you?” he finally asked.

You lifted your eyes to meet his eyes, seeing the pits of black that glared down at you. If you were phased by it, you didn’t let it show, only dusting yourself off as you stuck out your hand. The unwavering grin on your face. “Didn’t you hear? I’m your girlfriend.”

“You’re late,” he pointed out plainly.

“Yeah, you try to catch three buses and a subway to get here.”

“You could've gotten a cab.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And waste my money? No, thank you.”

“You’re getting compensated anyway. Why would that matter?”

You gave him a teeth baring grin, ulterior motives written all over your face. “Well, actually, I had a deal in mind.”

Seungcheol scoffed, scanning his eyes over you as judgment fogged his vision. He trusted you as far as he could throw you–which frankly, could be really far, but there was something frightening about you. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I’m not a gigolo and never plan on being one. You had one job and it was to be punctual and you’d get paid. How is that so hard?”

“But I did a good job, didn’t I? Pretending to be your girlfriend?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but you made a good point, and knowing you’ve already made an impression back at the cafe, the younger guys in the office had probably spread the news throughout the floor by now, if not then throughout the whole building. Just like those vicious rumors had spread. Except maybe for once the word ‘conniving’ or ‘intimidating’ wasn’t being used in the context.

He sighed, growing weary, checking his watch for the time, since he was in desperate need for this encounter to be wrapped up as soon as possible. “What is it you want?”

You grinned. “Well, to be honest. I need a fake boyfriend–”

“No.”

“But–”

“That’s not how things are going to work. I pay you to work for me. You do a job. And that’s that. There’s no deals to be made here.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, sorry, but this is actually crazy to me.”

“How the real world works? I do apologize that no one’s ever taught you that.”

You shook your head, smiling. “No, it’s just…Choi Seungcheol. You’ve really grown up, haven’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He asked, hearing his full name as if he was being told a slur. “However, you found my name, my status, you have a lot of nerve–”

“Eight years old. You had just won champions for competitors under ten and you felt like you were on top of the world. You wanted to scream but not because you had won, but because no one was there to watch you win, not anyone you cared about anyway. Except for one person, the person competing against you. So you screamed together at a nearby cliff in the mountains. You were still sad, bawling your eyes out, but at least you weren't alone.”

He couldn’t breathe. In his chest, something grabbed at his lungs, and it squeezed, cutting off his airways. His gut tightened and jaw clenched. He had never planned on being reminded of that time of his life again. “How…”

“Hi, Cheol. It’s good to see you too, bud.”

Seungcheol had a particular youth, and as a kid, he was forced to do more than enough to prove himself. Achievements were not only required but expected of him. If he won something, it was the standard. He had to learn quickly that everything was meant to be earned, not given, both fear and attention.

You were weird. You had a lot going on, and he didn’t like that. Yet, you took the same classes he did, performed as high as he did, were recommended to the same competitions, and commended for simply existing. It was blasphemy. His young little heart couldn’t fathom such anarchy.

He couldn’t understand it before, but he was jealous. Jealous of you, your family, your dynamics, and everything you represented. You were ignorantly happy, and he hated that you still were just as good of a student as him, even if it was just at taekwondo.

Things started to make sense when he decided to place focus on himself, the gold, the medals, and everything he’s worked hard to achieve. Why did it matter that you were barely great at taekwondo, he excelled. Not only that, he was getting straight As, a model student, and someone respected and feared amongst his peers.

Well, those kinds of kids don't cry when their parents don’t come to their taekwondo championships, do they? No matter how many times he’s reminded them of the day to ensure they make it. He felt so pathetic. So utterly alone. He was a fucking winner, yet he was whining and crying about mommy and daddy like a loser.

“Hi, are you okay?” the snot-covered young Seungcheol turned his head, seeing you, a silver medal winner asking if he was okay. Pathetic. 

He was going to brush you off. Quite literally shove you away for wasting his time and invading his personal space, but you sounded so concerned, voice light and warm like sun rays, and before he knew it, your arms came around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His tears soaked someone else's uniform that day and that frustrated him like hell. 

It had to be you of all people to see him cry. His rival. The bane of his existence. Well, the bane of his existence had nice hugs and smelled like strawberry smackers and sweat. He didn’t know how he knew what those were but remembering it all now, it’s exactly what they were.

It was then you convinced him to scream from that cliff with you. You both screamed so loud that it made the birds nearby fly away out of fear, and it made you both belly laugh so hard you fell on your backs. The tears had dried against his flushed cheeks by now, but he still felt them coming, every passing second just reminded him that his parents didn't find him all that important to celebrate. And when you noticed, you made him scream some more. Screamed until your throats hurt.

And you were right, he wasn’t alone anymore.

He had something to look forward to at every taekwondo class now other than the sense of accomplishment. He had a friend to spend time with. And for the next few years, you’d continue to be that person for him. His person. The only person who would know how to break him out of the mental prison he was forced into since birth. 

The times waiting around to be picked up, he’d spend time with you, getting ice cream or eating the convenience store snack that he’s been told would rot his brain and eat away at his skin. Other days when they felt like it, they’d ditch class entirely, pretending they were sick just to go watch a movie or find somewhere far away to be themselves, alone together.

Then you both turned eleven. Eleven was when things changed almost drastically. New insecurities formed at that delicate age. Taekwondo classes were harder, kids were getting bigger and stronger, meanwhile you were getting taller. Taller than Seungcheol even, and that shook him.

Maybe that’s when your dynamic started to change. Then came a ripple of bad events, tumbling forward like a domino effect that led to the demise of your friendship. A series of events that Seungcheol forced himself to repress as it gnawed at him like a bad infection.

But not like the way your presence did at this very moment.

“Out of all of the people that answered…”

“Kind of like fate, huh?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “Or Divine punishment.”

You furrowed your brows. “Hey.”

"Okay, so, what? You think because we were peers in a Taekwondo class together it meant something?”

“Well, not really, but, you don’t think it’s nice to see a friendly face?”

“Someone I haven’t seen in twenty years is something I would hardly call friendly.”

Your smile fell a little for the first time, only to pick right back up as if it never happened. “Ouch, hurtful. But, I'm still very down to help you play your girlfriend; if you’ll help me, that is.”

Seungcheol looked over at you cautiously, wondering why you, someone who once threw caution to the wind, would take matters into your hands and fake-date for any reason. “Why do you need the help?”

You shrugged. “Bragging rights.”

His eyes could not roll further back into his head. “Can’t do that with a real boyfriend?”

“And you can’t get a real girlfriend to get your employees to like you?”

He stared back at you unamused, but with nothing to come back with.

You shrugged, knowing you had him backed into a corner. “Like it or not, we are alike, you and I. And, we kind of know each other, so it works out.”

“...How much do you actually need this?”

“Just as much as you do.”

He found himself contemplating, crazy enough to think that he could make a situation like this work. “Fine, we’ll draw up a contract at our next meeting during my next lunch hour.”

He started taking his leave quickly in the direction of his office building, not looking back. Still, you called out to him, with more to ask. “Our next date. Why not this weekend?”

“I’m not wasting my weekend for this.” he shouted back, his back shrinking away out of view.

“You’re not going to waste your weekend on your girlfriend?” you shouted louder, only for it to be no use; now you were just a woman screaming by yourself in an alleyway.

You didn’t have too many expectations for this appointment, you were just blessed that you were a freelancer and could make time for it at all. Otherwise, you would’ve never made that lunch. You managed to sneak past his line of vision, eyes darting at him immediately and processing his features before slowly backing away into a corner and taking up a booth. You wanted to observe him before you eventually met him face-to-face, ensuring he wasn’t some weirdo until you realized the face you were looking at was the spitting image of someone you once knew 20 years ago.

You had to be sure, pulling up your phone immediately to stalk any possible social media pages. You found a perfect match and the exact name. Hand over your mouth, you were beyond shocked, You hadn’t thought about this boy in ages and here he was before you, a grown man. A hot, brooding man. 

What the actual fuck.

He started getting up, frustration and impatience written all over his face as he let out a big huff, and you couldn’t help but break out in a smile seeing him sulk until the panic sunk in that he was trying to leave. As he began to head to the door, the exits were blocked, the people passing through all smiles until they laid their eyes on him, and immediately you see their bodies tense up in his presence.

You were beginning to understand the severity and unease that settled in the room when he was present. It was as if their lighthearted comedy turned into a thriller in a matter of seconds. At that moment, you saw your window, so quickly you jumped through it.

You chuckled as you remembered his expression when he first caught sight of you, the pure confusion and bewilderment on his face when you introduced yourself to his coworkers. You were surprised yourself when he did absolutely nothing, but perhaps he showed it as a sign of faith, or maybe he was just that out of it.

Nonetheless, things seemed to work in your favor, and the fake boyfriend you’ve come across was none other than the Choi Seungcheol. A mixed bag of emotions, but something you could work with, way better than any internet creep. It just looked like there was a lot of catching up that needed to be done.

And soon enough, you were about to catch up to the fact that Seungcheol meant business and was anal about his terms and conditions. 

“You have to be punctual, that was your only requirement in the ad alone. There cannot be a repeat of yesterday.”

You nodded, watching as he entered it in the shared document you both had displayed on both your laptops. “Okay, fine, but are you sure about discussing this here? What if you have a run-in with your coworkers again?”

“We’re in the corner, so we’re less likely to be spotted, and if we are it’ll look like another lunch…date.”

You raised an eyebrow, stopping at mid-sip of your Americano. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Why did you say it like that?”

He sighed, eyes visibly dull. “Like what?”

You moved your head animatedly, trying to prove a point. “Like you were choking on it. Like you were revolted by the idea of a date. A date with me?”

“Nothing personal. Don’t get defensive. This stuff is just arbitrary to me.”

“What’s arbitrary about it? People go on dates with people they like and sometimes fall in love. It happens every day.”

“Not me,” he retorted, typing in an important detail.

“So you don’t go on dates?”

“I work. Like everyone should be doing.”

“I work.”

He glanced up from the screen. “What do you do?”

“I freelance.”

“Hmm.” His eyes averted back to the screen. “Vague.”

“I make a good wage,” you emphasized. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

However, he didn’t seem to look convinced. “Are you sure you don't want to be financially compensated?”

“Shut up. I’m doing fine. Let’s get back to the contract please.”

“Finally.”

Things were officially being drawn up electronically before being sent over for you to sign, giving you a sense of relief and a weight off your shoulders. You craned your neck, feeling the strain of peering down at a laptop have its effect on you. “Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did. 

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?” You asked earnestly. 

His brows furrowed, before a subtle cocky smile crept against his face. “A healthy body in its top form is crucial for the average working man. It keeps my physical and mental health from deteriorating, and it’s the only way I can keep up with work, from carrying heavy work loads to travel. Aesthetics weren’t the goal, but thank you for noticing.”

“I didn’t compliment you for being big now, did I?”

Time running out on the clock, your meeting came to a close. You walked out together, keeping up appearances, and despite your protests, he started to hail you a taxi. You frowned as it arrived, seeing him open the door all gentleman like, but the stoic expression tattooed always on his face said otherwise.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not walking you to a bus stop, so take the cab. I’ll pay if you’re in dire need of financial assistance.” You had choice words to say on the tip of your tongue before he ushered you in the back seat, ducking his head in and tapping his card on the machine to pay. “Wherever she wants to go.”

Looking up behind the back of his head, you caught the sight of a few familiar faces, the same ones that you ran into yesterday with and quickly you suddenly found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. He stiffed under your touch, his arms stuck up hovering above you inside the car. “What are you doing?” he questioned, tone cold. 

“Don’t look,” you whispered, “but I see some of your coworkers. Just roll with it until they’re gone.”

Your chin settled into the crook of his neck, fastening yourself and determined to hold on until they were out of sight. Meanwhile, he stared down the slope of your spine, watching your hips shift to comfortably align with his, fitting yourself around his frame, and he helplessly took in your perfume wafting in his nose, noting its clean and pleasant scent. Before he realized, his arms rose, hovering around over your back and moving to close in to claim your warmth.

”Okay, it looks like they left.”

Instead, you released him with a light shove out of the car and patted him on the back before waving him off. He watched as it drove off, your hand waving back at him frantically before the car turned left at an intersection and disappeared on the road. From then, Seungcheol quietly returned to the office to organize his thoughts. Down the street, past the front desk, up the elevator, down the hallway, and entering his office. In all that time, he still could not make sense of what just happened.

But then again, he was learning that he didn’t make sense of a lot of things. Like company dinners, why did they matter?

In fact, Seungcheol had his gripes about company dinners. They were loud, rambunctious, and were centered around drinking until one needed their stomach to get pumped. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the occasional glass of whiskey and a fine wine, but that’s not what this was. 

Tonight, he was surrounded by blue and green bottles, then silver and green cans, all mixed to create a revolting concoction that the team seemed to thrive on to make the night a tolerable one, but what would have made it tolerable for a certain office manager was his fake girlfriend. His eyes shifted from one side of the restaurant to the other, seeing each member of his department slowly loosening their reins as alcohol poured into their system, pinking their cheeks and slurring their words. He did not look forward to the kind of conversations spoken out of turn under the influence.

The manager had been offered a drink five minutes after his arrival, surprised at the minimal spillage with how much Chan’s hands were shaking as he held it with both hands. Nevertheless, he accepted with a wordless nod as the cup was set in front of him, another working man comfortably escaping the clutches of Manager Choi.

Seungcheol was beginning to get annoyed at your tardiness. First it was the initial meeting—the one he still hadn’t gotten over—but now this was the first official public outing. You never cease to amaze him with careless conduct, as if life didn’t have consequences. It was almost as if you never grew up. This was starting to feel like a mistake.

“There you are!” Warmth snaked around his neck and tucked around his chin as someone’s cheek flattened against his.

He didn’t have to look to know it was you; only you were brave enough to commit this far, but he had just as much of a reason to be convincing as you did. He slightly turned his head, a vision of you in his peripheral before you faced him with a grin. “I’m sorry I’m late, don’t be mad,” you lightly pleaded, jutting your lips in a pout.

“Where have you been?” he bluntly asked, hoping it sounded concerned. It did not.

Your pout sunk deeper and you took the empty seat beside him, tugging on his arm. “I told you not to get mad!”

“She’s real?”

“You owe me 50 bucks! Cough up!”

The voices were growing louder, more banter rising at your sudden appearance, and Seungcheol was starting to wonder why he ever wanted this attention in the first place.

“Is this for me?” you asked pointing at the horrid cocktail Chan placed in front of your fake boyfriend before he then covered the top with the back of his hand.

“You evaded my question.”

“I was getting ready and lost track of time. God forbid, I try to look nice for my boyfriend and the people he works with.”

He lightly scoffed, almost impressed with the girlfriend's act.

“So you’re really Mr. Choi’s girlfriend?” An employee you’ve yet to meet sitting across from you asked.

“Yes! Why is that so hard to believe,” you chuckled.

Soonyoung, well off his rocker and having already taken down a bottle or two of soju, was quick to intrude. “Well, because he’s terrifying.”

And not even a second after, his coworker–Seungkwan, if you recall correctly–clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes growing wide as saucers before immediately clarifying. “He’s exaggerating! Mr. Choi just seems very…reserved and independent. Maybe too involved with his work?” The man trod lightly, lowering his gaze as Seungcheol shot his eyes back at him when he might as well shoot laser beams. Seungkwan felt them burn through his skull as he internally scolded himself, repeatedly tapping his mouth, for possibly speaking out of turn.

You nodded, pouring yourself a shot and following with a slice of beef off the grill. “It’s true. He’s a lunatic.”

The room went silent, all eyes falling on you as your words sunk in. The second hand fear was palpable, even Soonyoung began to sober up. Seungcheol scoffed, turning to the side as you enjoyed your free meal, not giving a second thought to your insult.

“I tell him he’s always in the office. Always, always! When is he gonna make time for anything else? He might die in that office one day,” you egged, taking another piece of meat followed by another shot.

The young man who introduced himself as Joshua tried his best to come to your rescue, “Miss, that might be–”

“It’s why I started visiting him during lunch. If I didn’t he would live off chicken, rice, and those disgusting whey shakes, wouldn’t he?”

Team member Jihoon chortled before immediately piping down when he saw Seungcheol’s quick side eye before the manager directed his attention back to you, who had a lot to say. The entire team stood, thinking their superior was seconds away from blowing up his shit in your face, they braced for impact. Instead, he rested his elbow on the dining table, rubbing his fingers to his temple, simply responding with, “You’re so loud.”

You pointed childishly, taunting him as if it was recess at a playground. “See, he doesn’t even have a comeback! He isn’t human.”

“Why did I invite you again?”

“Because I’m pretty and delightful?”

“No, seriously.”

Relief fanned out amongst the crew, and held breaths were released as chuckles and smiles took their place. They could breathe knowing that they had you to distract him, settling the nerves they had. Finally, most of them could find themselves enjoying the rest of the night and drinking all the soju and beer their hearts desired.

Throughout the evening, you and Seungcheol would bicker, picking each other apart like an old married couple as the rest watched, occasionally joining in when a common interest was brought up. You would usually engage as Seungcheol just quietly sat back listening, sometimes silently agreeing, learning more things about his employees this one night than the entire year he’s been manager. Seungcheol hadn’t experienced anything like this, or if he had, he didn’t remember.

“You’re enjoying this,” Seungcheol said under his breath, watching you finish a third lettuce wrap.

“I am,” you whispered, chuckling.

“This is the strangest combination I’ve ever seen, but it strangely works,” Jeonghan, one of the more honest members of the department, confidently stated.

Joshua joined in, agreeing. “They really compliment each other for some reason.”

“How did you two meet anyway,” Jihoon politely asked, “If you’re comfortable telling that story.”

You turned to Seungcheol, “You want to tell them or should I?”

He gave you a look, one that said, it’s your job, and you quickly got the hint. 

He was prepared for some cliche, something dumb like out of a romance movie. What he didn’t expect was the next words to come out of your mouth. 

“We actually are childhood friends.”

“You’re the same age?!”

That set them off. Suddenly flurries of grown adults gather around you to hear your story with their starry eyes, eating out of the palm of your hand with every word. It was a talent how you could lie, sprinkling in bits of the truth for authenticity, making every word that came out of your mouth sound like scripture. All while you tossed back soju shots and Seungcheol nursed a single beer in his hand.

“You’re like a movie, childhood rivals to estranged friends to lovers, wow. Lifetime would pay millions,” Chan gushed with red cheeks, covering his face with his palms.

Jeonghan suddenly pounced at an exciting idea. “Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot.”

They rest followed after him, chanting louder and louder. “Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot!”

Seungcheol shook his head. “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

The chants immediately faded out, only a whisper of its remains left in the form of a lost Soonyoung.

“Don’t take it personal, guys. He’s a lightweight. He’s had that beer since he came in and still hasn’t finished because we both know he’d be out like a light if he drank even half of it,” You taunted.

Seungcheol felt challenge brew within him, narrowing his eyes back at you. “Oh, yeah?”

“It’s okay, Honey, being a weak drinker doesn’t mean it's the end of the world.”

The office manager huffed, standing up slamming the metal dining table and startling everyone around him. “One of you, any of you, bring us some soju and two of the biggest glasses you have.”

Their feet scrambled, and demands were met. Your fake boyfriend smirked back at you as he started filling up your glass, pushing it toward you before he started filling up his.

“Lun-a-tic,” you sounded, claiming the glass.

You scooted closer holding the cups in the air before locking elbows and gazes. The glass pressed to your lips, the bitter liquid making it past your mouth and feeling it burn down your throat and then brewing something sinister in your gut, having you struggle to finish it. Meanwhile, your opponent drank his as if it was water, his eyes staring back at you in mockingly, grinning apparently despite his lips being preoccupied.

This little shit.

You both ended with a clean finish, slamming the cups on the metal surface, and you’re swarmed with cheers, reminding you that you had an audience. The heat was instantaneous, spreading all over you like fire, as your eyes grew heavy, the rush of cheeks becoming less coherent and just noise at this point of the night.

“Yeah, they definitely did taekwondo together.”

“I have never seen Mr. Choi that competitive before. He’s so cool!”

That last bit made Seungcheol snicker as he wiped the remaining alcohol off his lips, observing you as you uncharacteristically remained quietly seated with nothing else to say. “And I’m the lightweight? Can you even stand up right now?”

You gave him a mocking look, pulling yourself up from your seat and began doing all the sobriety tests you could possibly think of. From talking in a straight line to touching your toes, you made sure to do all the nine yards. After feeling like you succeeded (you didn’t), you then blew raspberries in his face until finally doing your perfect impression of a big buzzer. “Try again!”

Seungcheol fell off his chair laughing, face bright red in the matter of seconds, belly laughing and stunning everyone that was lucky enough to witness before he crawled up to get back in his chair. He pointed at you, still laughing, “You look so stupid!”

“Oh,” Minghao pointed at his superior’s face, “He has a dimple.”

“Nevermind that, he’s laughing.”

“Take a picture! Take hundreds of them!”

The rest of the night became a blur, a chaotic blur Seungcheol was probably better off not remembering, but all of the things he did remember made him feel warm. Or perhaps that was the alcohol lodged into his system. Company dinners can be alright. He probably won’t go to all of them, but one here and there wouldn’t hurt.

The next time Seungcheol felt awake was when he was in his bedroom, the sun peeking through the curtain as it beamed down on him. It was rare for him to wake up after the sun came up. “What the…”

He had no idea how he got home, pulling the covers off himself and immediately looking for his phone and found it conveniently plugged, and said that it was– “9:34. Fuck.”

"Rise and shine, sunshine,” you said bursting through the room, and Seungcheol immediately threw the covers back on, hiding his body as soon as he realized he looked the shittiest he’s ever looked. “How the fuck–why the hell are you in my apartment? How the hell are you in my apartment?”

“I took you home yesterday.”

“There’s a keypad!”

You giggled. “You put in the code for me. Drunk you is very nice.”

“You were drunk too!”

You clamped your hands over your ears. “Stop yelling, god. I sobered up hours before you did. Hangover still sucks though.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you found out where I fucking live.”

“The ID in your wallet, of course, which you should really be more careful about giving it to people when you’re drunk because, holy shit, I would've scammed you. What if it got into the wrong hands?”

“I’M LOOKING RIGHT AT THEM!”

“OW! Chill out. How are you not hungover right now?”

“I am, but–shit, none of this is making sense.”

“Well, while you have your mid-life crisis, I left a hangover cure and breakfast on your coffee table. Eat it, you’re going to want it. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you sleep here?”

You shrugged, “Oh the couch. It was like 2am and I was still tipsy, I wasn’t gonna go out there and become a statistic.”

“You just slept in a man’s apartment like nothing.”

“It’s your apartment. I’m fine.”

“Am I not a man?”

You rolled your eyes, waving him off. “You are hardly a human, iRobot. Now go eat. Oh, and remember next Sunday is my day, Carts and Tarts. Golfing and brunch with some of my college friends, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“What did I tell you about weekends?”

“Make an exception, yesterday went extremely well. I think everyone is warming up to you a bit more, and all you have to do is stand next to me. And maybe smile, but that's it!”

He groaned, throwing a pillow in his face, the migraines kicking in hard. “I feel like shit.”

“Which means it was a success! We’ll go over what you’ll be wearing and a bit of characterization over the week.”

“Characterization?” Seungcheol mumbled, the word foreign on his tongue. 

“Enjoy your Saturday!”

Carefully, you walked out, closing the door behind you and hearing the automatic lock click in pace. You passed through his front lawn, making your way past his gates, and you took sight of his neighborhood–admittedly prettier in daylight– before heading down the sidewalk to hail a cab. Waiting for one to arrive, you marinated in what transpired the night before and the images played in your mind in full color, as if it happened just moments ago.

“Fuck, you’re huge.”

“You tol’ me ta’ already.” Seungcheol murmured as he buried himself into your shoulder, letting you drag him to the entrance of his residence.

“What’s your code?”

“Secret,” he giggled. 

To which, you rolled your eyes. “You put it in then.”

You pushed him closer to the keypad, holding his wrist up to the screen and lifting up his head so he could see the numbers. His eyelids almost sunk to the bottom, but it was barely visible enough to make out what was in front of him. “Oh, I know this game, I’m good at games…”

“I’m sure you are, try this one out.”

His finger limply hovered over the keypad, giggling up a storm.“ 0…5…2…6.”

“You said it was a secret and said it out loud anyway, are you that drunk?”

“I win!”

“Oh, my god.” You rushed him inside, hoping none of the neighbors showed up or were nearby to have heard that, and scanned the perimeter for his bedroom. His instinct kicked in the second he entered inside, and he pulled away from you, taking himself upstairs.

“He’s gonna fucking kill himself.” You trailed behind him, on every step behind him, ready to catch him behind every tumble, and ensuring that Seungcheol in no way hurt himself as he made it up those steps.

As he finally reached the top floor, he turned the corner, entered a very obvious bedroom, and collapsed on the king-sized bed in the center. He laid sprawl, limbs spread wide like a starfish, and the biggest grin on his face that showcased his dimple gracefully embedded in his cheek.

You chuckled before dragging his body up the bed, urging him off the covers to usher him under. “Okay. I’m leaving now.”

You then turned away, about to leave when felt something wrap around your wrist pulling you near the bed.

“Don’t go.”

Your head back to see Seungcheol at the brink of tears, his features softening at the sight of you as he curled up into bed, sniffling. You dipped a little closer. “You don’t want me to leave?”

He shook his head, whining childishly, “Stay…”

He pulled you closer, now ushering you on the bed, and suddenly you were there together, him ready to sleep all tucked in, and you firmly sat because a grown man with the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes asked you not to go. 

So you stayed, just as he asked, and slept in the living room once he was sound asleep.

You smiled to yourself, regretful you didn’t take a picture or record a video of the incident. Although, if you did and he found out, he would’ve killed you. Or, you would’ve had some delicious blackmail material. The world may never know. You were just happy to know he still had that side to him. It was refreshing, and honestly, it made you a little hopeful.

Now you had to see if you could drag it out of him sober.

“Now to be the perfect boyfriend, my friend group has always said that the guy had to check at least five of these boxes.”

He looked back at you, not showing any interest in the matter while absentmindedly drinking his Americano that he used to hate, but he’s been enjoying a lot more lately thanks to you. “Is this all really necessary?”

You nodded determinedly. “You’re unlikable, and you need lessons. Yes, this is very important.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve received two good mornings today, and only five people decided to hide from me.”

“No one should be hiding from you,” you rubbed your chin in thought, “Sounds like you still need work. I might have to phase in a new method.”

“Excuse me, what new method would that be?”

“Never mind that. For now, Carts and Tarts. The girls have always said a guy needs five things: eyes, ears, mouth, heart, and…” Your gaze lowered to his nether regions, and Seungcheol did a double take, covering his privates with a pained expression.

“Those are just body parts, and have some decorum, would you?”

You pointed to the first box you needed checked. “Eyes: they need to be able to pay attention to you, notice things about you that you or other people wouldn’t otherwise see. To be loved is to be seen.”

Seungcheol listening to your reasoning and then mentally noting it for later. “Ah, and ears.”

“Listening to what you have to say. Being heard is just as important, but it doesn’t stop at hearing the words, it’s understanding the meaning behind them, which brings me to…”

“Mouth. To speak?” he easily guessed.

You nodded, passing him a cookie. “Ask questions. Learn why they’re happy, sad, angry, or anxious. Or even, include them in your conversations, sometimes they want to hear what you’re interested in. I think you’re getting where I’m going next.”

He took apart the cookie, breaking it in half, and passed it back to you. “Heart. Have a passion for something.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. Sometimes it's a job, or a family, or a passion projection, but there needs to be ambition and drive, but most importantly and above all, they love you. If they love you enough, they can balance both. They should have something in their life besides you, but still love you, you know?”

Seungcheol was buffering a bit on that last one but he decided not to question it. “I’m assuming that last one has to do with coitus?”

Mid-chew of your snack, appalled enough to speak with it still in your mouth while spewing out its crumbs, “Why would you use that word?”

“I knew I would invoke an interesting reaction, but not cause an avalanche.” 

You rolled your eyes, tapping your mouth with a napkin. “Everyone wants to have orgasms in their relationships, it’s at the top of their Christmas list. I’ve seen so many relationships get broken up because the sex sucked or someone has a weird kink–and I’m not kink shaming! Being weird can be cool.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said plainly.

“I’m just saying.”

“Never in my life did I expect this to be the topic of today’s meeting.”

You flatten your hands against the table, a satisfied smile on your face. “Well, now you understand. Try to pretend you're at least any one of these, and play up the boyfriend bit. You already know a little about me, just put it to good use.”

He observed you, studying your intent under the humor and lighthearted candor. “You really care a lot about this.”

“It’s just annoying how much they care about how much I'm getting laid. They’re a very large and very involved bunch.”

Seungcheol shut his eyes in disdain. “Why do they care?”

“Everyone is just either dating, married, or engaged. I'm the last person left, and I haven’t had a relationship that’s lasted more than three months. I just want them to lay off, make them think I'm dating someone with marriage in mind.”

“And when we don’t get married?”

You grinned, as if you have been waiting for this question to be asked. “I’ve curated a long 2-year plan to make us look like a committed couple. We fall in love passionately, so in love that we summer together and backpack over Europe, Asia, seeing all the great seas, seeing the world together…but then, I come back home, sad and single because even though you proposed and are desperately in love with me–”

“I think there are some plot holes–”

“You fall ill bitten by a radioactive spider exploring a jungle and pass away,” You concluded, exaggeratedly gasping into your hands.

“...isn’t that the plot to Madame Web?”

“You actually watched that?”

“You don’t know what I do on my weekends.”

“Watching awful movies is what it sounds like.”

He looked up to the ceiling, trying to visual all this together, as if any of this was remotely feasible. “We live in the same city, has it ever occurred to you that I could bump into any one of them?”

You shrugged, “Easy. You turn around and run in the other direction.”

“Your plan is horrendously flawed.”

“You wanna get married then?”

“Where’s the spider? I can get a headstart.”

“Just be a good little boyfriend.”

Seungcheol tsked. 

“What?”

He looked off at the window, noticing that it was going to rain soon. Things needed to pick up if he wanted to get back to the office dry. “I just wouldn’t have thought that you of all people would cater to a society that cared about something superficial like having a boyfriend.”

Your smile faltered. “Well, a lot has happened in 20 years. And who says I’m catering to anyone? Ever consider maybe…forget it.”

He narrowed his eyes, challenge burning through them, “What? Finish your thought.”

“We’re done here. Just come on Sunday, follow the dress code, and don’t be yourself,” and with that you threw your tote over your shoulder and walked out, not bothering to wait for him to trail after you, hailing a cab on your own accord.

The rest of the week you would make your lunch ‘dates,’ but it would be mainly for show, having you only swirling your straw in your drink as you moped, halfheartedly being present for most of the time. Usually, Seungcheol would appreciate silence, but from you, it was deafening, even with the background noise of the cafe. 

He pretended not to notice, sitting in silence with you, but he’d occasionally look up, seeing you glued to your phone, only interacting with him when it came to what they were contractually obligated to do for one another. He should’ve been pleased, yet, he was dying to talk to you.

Sunday finally came around and unfortunately, your bad mood had traveled with you, even in your cute little tennis skirt get-up you had been looking for the opportunity to wear. At least, Seungcheol had made the effort to look the part for the day. That morning you met, and he surprised you with his cooperation by looking like every country club asshole you've ever met, down to the pristine khakis and golf shoes with matching socks. You wondered if he bought that before the plans were set in motion, or if he already had it lying around. Either way, he looked convincing enough to persuade a few friends. 

“Good job,” you whispered halfheartedly.

“How long do we have to be here?” He mumbled under his breath, cutting into his spinach omelet after forgoing all the possible carb options, just like you expected him to.

“Two hours, tops. Just watch them get a couple swings in and we can excuse ourselves after, say we have another thing we gotta go to.”

You were then greeted by a familiar voice, beckoning you from the other end of the table. Her eyes were bright and perfectly cat eyed, lips pink and glossy, but her voice was mature and curious, dying to pull the information she could out of you. “So, how did you two come to know each other?”

Chaeyoung had always been an instigator, asking the pressing questions and demanding answers. It was natural for her as a news investigator, and she was the one who insisted your new boyfriend come to initiate him into their pack. This happened to be the first time you accepted her challenge, earning her intrigue, and like she did with all your boyfriends she’s had the pleasure–or more often displeasure than not–of meeting, she had to get the rundown. And she would do whatever she could to get it.

You cleared your throat, wiping your lips with a tablecloth. “Well—“

“Not you, darling, let’s hear it from Seungcheol.”

He hadn’t prepared for this, snapping his head at you a glint of panic was in his eyes. You grinned over at Chaeyoung, holding onto Seungcheol’s hand that rested on the table. “Don’t go interrogating my boyfriend, he just got here.”

“Well, it’s only fair to tell his version while he's here. There’s never been a gathering as big as this with your other boyfriends. He has to be special if you brought him here today.”

“Chaeyoung—“

“I can tell the story,” Seungcheol finally reassured.

You looked at him confused then bewilderment, fearing the words that come out of his next could be the end all be all of this entire charade.

You had to stop him before he ruined this. “Cheol—“

“She came crashing into my life, and I haven’t known peace since.”

If your eyes bulged any bigger, they would be falling out of your head. “I—“

“Really?” Chaeyoung’s interest got piqued, leaning in closer as the everyone else at the table lowered their voice, hoping to listen in. “How so?”

“We had met before. A long, long time ago, and I couldn’t fathom her existence in the slightest. She was a mind bending whirlwind, like no one else I’ve ever met before, and I couldn’t get her out of my head. That period of our lives we spent almost every waking moment with each other, telling each other things that we promised not to tell anybody else. Like an oath. And then all of a sudden, one day, we lost contact. No calls, no letters, no voicemails. We didn’t speak to each other for years until…,” he turned to you, a subtle softness in his eyes that only you could barely recognize under that cold, stiff exterior. “We passed by each other at a cafe near my office. I didn’t know what to think of it first…but she called it fate.”

He turned back to everyone, and they all just stared, peering at the newcomer as if he was a saint dropped from the sky, while the women at the table swooned after listening to his story, clinging onto his every word.

“Men like him do exist…” Yeri said dreamily, ignoring her longtime boyfriend, who at the moment was scarfing down his fifth quiche.

You were shell shocked, jaw actually dropped slack until Seungcheol stuffed an egg tart in it, occupying your mouth to avoid suspicion.

“And he’s feeding her. Why don’t you feed me?!”

“Dammit, they’re adorable.”

You weren’t sure who you were sitting with anymore. The fake boyfriend you hired was a calculating, condescending, arrogant prick that relied on you to make him look good. How was he doing a better job than you?

“Do you golf, Seungcheol?” Baekho inquired, warming up to him after hearing the sweet fable. “If so, we have to see your swing.”

He replied back with a shrug, “I’ve dabbled, although I was going to take it easy today.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This one isn’t sure how long we can stay.”

You glared at him, how dare he push the blame on you. You looked back at Baekho apologetically. “We had a prior engagement. I’m sorry. I mixed the dates up and couldn’t cancel on either one of you.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t mean you can’t play. Just a round, what do you both say?”

Seungcheol looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and you truly do not know how to approach it in the slightest.

“Okay, I guess a round can’t hurt.”

Baekho along with many other guests lit up in excitement. “Well, what are we waiting for? On the field, we go!”

Several members of the brunch got a head start on the field, taking their clubs and carts as they started heading off the first hole. Meanwhile, Seungcheol pulled you aside, seeing that you were both alone with no one else to eavesdrop. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“What? It’s one round.” You shrugged. “A game can’t be that long.”

A pained expression struck his face, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tightly shut his eyes. “Have you ever played golf?”

“No, I was never interested in it.”

“Jesus—do you see how big this field is? An average game of golf is four hours, sometimes more.”

Your eyes were about to shoot out of their sockets like any of the golf balls on the field. “Four hours?!”

“Yes, and you just,” he sighed, “Come on.” 

He took you by your hands, noticing them covered in a pair of gloves before dragging you to your designated cart. “Why the hell do you own golf gloves if you don’t golf?

“I thought today was the day I’d start,” you cried, nearing the verge of tears as you came to the realization of the eternal hell you’ve subjected yourself to.

And Seungcheol did not lie, it felt as if it would go on forever. As everyone was putting, the sun was beaming down on you, slowly but surely killing your will to live. At this point, you welcomed it. You already started to envy the ice in your lemonade that melted, seeing it was given the mercy of peace from this endless boredom. You weren’t used to being outside for this long. During these brunches, you would be inside in the spa by now with mud baths, not getting ready to be spattered in mud puddles when a ball hits water.

“Fore!”

“Just let the ball hit me right at the temple, right here,” you quietly mumbled from your golf cart, watching Baekho in front of you take a swing as a couple of other members of the brunch spectated from behind.

Seungcheol reunited beside you, taking a swig of his water bottle and sweating after swinging a few times around the field. “I guess this counts as my workout for the day.”

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” you responded sarcastically, numb to all feelings.

He leaned over the golf cart, arms over the cart roof. “You had every opportunity to say no.”

“And I didn’t, okay? You gonna rub it in my face?”

He grinned, that dimple you once found cute growing increasingly irritating. “Potentially.”

“You’re actually having fun, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, not denying it. “Golf is entertaining on occasion, and it’s true I didn’t plan on playing, but it’s kind of nice to be playing with a group this big. It used to be just me and father.”

“He taught you how to play?”

“He thought it was good to teach about control. It forced me to utilize the amount of strength and helped me understand optimal angles. Once you master that, you can get closer to reaching your optimal target. He said that’s just about all you need to be the person you want to be in life.” Although he sounded as if he spoke fondly, a storm brewed in his gaze, one that it seemed like it would persist if you pressed on any further.

“Wow…somehow you made golf even more boring.” You stepped off the cart, stretching your legs and bending your knees to make sure they don’t give out on you in pins and needles. “I might go back to the club house. Get something more to eat, catch the news, learn about some new propaganda, anything but this really.”

His gaze pulled up behind, staring past your head at coming towards you both, eyes widening in fear. “Look out!”

His arms wrapped around you, clutching your body before he tore you away from the ground beneath you, and shielded you from the incoming impact. Your face buried in his chest, hearing the deafening screech of wheels scraping the grass as it dug into a puddle conveniently in front of you both and just in the way of the vehicle gone rogue, splashing mud water onto whoever was nearby.

“Oh shit, my bad!” Beomgyu, the cart boy and designated driver of the vehicle, said quickly before driving off.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, pounding against his as it raced at the same erratic pace. Your bodies intertwined with one another, his caging yours like a momentary safe haven. He pulled back you to level with him, feeling his firm grip hold you steady. “You okay?” Seungcheol asked, scanning you over.

You panted softly, your breath caught in your throat, since you were still in shock from the near collision that had just happened before calmly nodding. He looked you over, dusting any dirt and debris off of you, and he finally let you free once he was sure for himself you were fine. “You should’ve just stayed on the cart. That could’ve gotten really bad,” he scolded, pushing your golf cap over your eyes.

“Hey! Oh my god! What happened?”

Your friends rushed over after seeing the scene, prodding you with concerning questions to which you answered with ‘I’m fine’s and ‘okay’s. However, amongst the noise, you finally took notice of Seungcheol, specifically, the aftermath of the incident and his clothes stained in murky brown specks and splotches.

“Your clothes…” you pointed out with a guilt ridden face.

He shook his head reassuringly, “I’ll change once I get home.”

“Nonsense,” Minhyun retorted, “Grab something from the merch shop. Complimentary of course.”

“I appreciate it,” Seungcheol nodded, “I do think I’ll have to take her back home. I don’t know if I can keep playing after that just happened.”

“Of course! We understand,” Junhui agreed, looking toward you empathetically. “Make sure she’s okay, and take care, kid.”

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said, finally getting on the cart and driving off the field. It wasn’t until you were halfway across the field that you realized what he had managed to do in the matter of seconds you had. You pivoted your head to him, seeing that the concern that was once on his face melt into his default expression, phlegmatic with a hint of arrogance.

“You evil genius.”

Seungcheol smirked, looking at you through his peripheral vision. “‘Strike the iron, while it’s hot,’ I believe the saying is called.” 

You made a visit to the merch shop as Minhyun suggested and met with the shopkeeper about getting their signature embroidered shirt with the country club's logo on the breast. He welcomed you, saying he was expecting you both after getting a call, but apologizing for the limited sizes. It was out of both your hands at that point, so you accepted it, handing Seungcheol off the medium and hoping for the best.

“I think this room is good.” You looked for an empty multipurpose for him to change into after seeing all the bathrooms nearby were closed for maintenance. The efforts to go further across the club for other bathrooms wasn’t worth the trouble, so this seemed to be the next best thing.

He followed after you, holding the shirt and walking in nonchalantly as you tried to quietly close the heavy door shut. He peered over at you, watching you behave strangely suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Closing the door!” you shout-whispered. “What if people see us sneaking around and think we’re doing something indecent?”

“You think shutting the door quietly and whispering makes us look any better?” he asked in a normal volume.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you respond in your normal volume.

He rolled his eyes before pulling the bottom of his shirt up and over his head, seeing every inch of his abdomen: every muscle, every curve, and every vein.

“Woah,” you quickly turned around. “Just couldn’t wait to get your clothes off in front of me, could you?”

He scoffed, putting his dirty shirt aside before picking up the new one. “Why’d you turn around? Nothing you’ve never seen before, I’m sure.”

“Did you just slut shame me while you’re the one taking your clothes off? The gall!”

He pulled his newly acquired shirt over his head, feeling it hug his body as he stretched out the fabric. “You can look now.”

You spun back, seeing that the shirt they’ve got might have been a tad smaller than they anticipated, compressing against him to the point that his muscles bulged at the seams, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He might as well not have worn a shirt at all. “That might be a bit small on you,” you stiffly pointed out.

“Well, it’s all we have.” He looked in the reflection in the mirror placed on the wall, unfortunately agreeing with you, checking himself in the mirror and already feeling it start to chafe.

“I’m surprised you did that today,” you brought up. “The speech, then the crazy save, wow.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, so was I. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. How did you improv all that so quickly?”

He shrugged, attempting to stretch the fabric even a little bit, hoping it wouldn't tear. “I didn’t really. I just said how I felt.”

“Wait, really?”

He slightly turned his head. “Yes. Like how I couldn’t fathom how someone as insane and careless as you existed.”

You clenched your teeth, knitting your eyebrows together, “You fu-“

“Or when I couldn’t get you out of my head. It’s true, I made it my life’s mission then to beat you at every taekwondo match possible.”

“I hate you so—”

“And you said it was fate, not me, so technically I didn’t even lie.” He turned back, walking back to you, “Then again, omission is a form of lying on its own. You would know since lying to my employees is like an Olympic sport to you.”

Your nose scrunched, displeased. “Your welcome, whatever. We fooled them. Good work. That will keep them off my back for a couple weeks.”

He clapped his hands. “Good, sounds like my work is done.”

“Ha. For now. Your end though, still requires a lot of work. Look forward to that overtime.”

That’s where phasing the new method came in. It was a risky move that you had your doubts about, but considering the trauma bonding that fine Sunday, you were sure Seungcheol could warm up to the idea. However, it couldn’t work if he knew it was happening, that’s why he had to go in blind.

[part 2 immediately found here]

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae @flwrshwa @itsmarieposa @palmsugr @apriyada @skittlez-area512 @choco-scoups @actuallynarii @tournesol155 @vvvlog @nerdycheol @christinewithluv @alyssa19123456 @kwonhs96 @scheolrriess @ch-rrycloud @fancypeacepersona @obsessionreads09 @userelv @minahaeyo @cookiearmy @wonwooz1 @carefully325

[starryylies]

Dude my buff ass boyfriend put his heavy ass head on my ass (I’m a big girl so I’m soft apparently) and told me that he’s gonna nap an I can only think Simon would say such things

Simon who loves sleeping on you(r) ass

AWW, that’s the cutest thing I’ve heard 😭

And simon is definitely that kind of boyfriend, the type of boyfriend that uses your ass as a pillow and your tits as his stuffed toy.

You were laying down on bed, scrolling mindlessly through TikTok, trying to keep yourself up till your boyfriend comes home.

You hear the front door open with a thud and you hear a “bloody hell” from big brutish boyfriend who probably hit his head on the doorframe, again.

You hear him run up to your master bedroom, opening the door slowly so he doesn’t disturb you if you’re sleeping.

He is happy to see you awake and gives you a crooked smile and a, “h’lo love”.

He quickly cleans up and comes to bed, where you are laying on your chest still doomscrolling through TikTok.

You are surprised to feel a heavy (bulldozer heavy) load on your ass, squishing your plump cheeks while his hands squish your thighs.

“Simon, what the hell are you doin’” you groan

“Tryin’ to take a nap luvie, you should too.” He says nonchalantly.

“Simon you’re squishing meee, sleep on your cushion” you yelp

Simon replies to that by fake snoring, making you giggle.

Well you had no choice but to let the man sleep.

Well until you felt his cold, freezing hand creep under shirt as he put it in the gap between both of your boobs (interbooby space), the boobs gave his hand cushioning.

“Simon what the hell it’s so cold, bro stoppp”

“Love firstly I’m not your bro, secondly they’re my personal stress toy and heater.”

“sii i swear to god ill give you a headlock with my thighs”

“Do it please” he jokes

You don’t know if you should laugh or cry but you end up settling for neither of those options and decide to just sleep.

You wake up the next morning to find Simon snoring, his head cuddling into your stomach and one hand on your ass and the other one between your boobs.

You really wouldn’t have it any other way though.

[distantdarlings]

RETURN THE FAVOR // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 3.2K WORDS

Enzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* When an altercation between Enzo and you gets you both thrown in detention, Enzo decides to take a bit of anger out on you.

+ WARNINGS - (Y'all, this is filthy) SMUT! PIV (no protection), mean dom!Enzo, Top!Enzo, Bottom!Reader, very brief Sub!Enzo, fingering (f!receiving), spanking, bondage, use of tie as gag, mentions of a slap in the face (x2), Reader is struggling (but still consensual), kinda bratty!Reader, public sex, generally rough sex, desk sex, degradation, name-calling, female reader, fem anatomy, language (lmk if I missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Slow Down - Chase Atlantic

- - -

The events of the morning had flown by so quickly, you’d barely even grasped what had happened. You knew there had been some kind of fight that you had been involved in where you were yelling at Theodore Nott for picking on a Hufflepuff. You knew that his little friend group had tried to shout back at you and that your current lover, Enzo Berkshire, had also pushed back against you.

That had pushed you over the edge, and you’d laid a slap across his cheek, lighting it up with red blush. By the time the professors had flown through the door, handing out detention slips, you’d hardly processed a thing that had happened.

There was a fight. You’d slapped Enzo Berkshire across the face. You were currently in detention for the rest of the day. Enzo Berkshire was sitting directly across from you. Those facts were clear.

The desks in the extra classroom you sat in were arranged in a debate circle, where the two of you were angled in front of each other. A pink handprint glowed brightly on his cheek, accentuating his chiseled cheekbone even more than before. His eyes were cut so angrily he might’ve evaporated you on the spot.

“If you have something to say, Enzo…,” you started, crossing your arms and staring right back at him. “Then you’d better spit it out now because I’m getting really tired of you staring at me like that. Hasn't anyone ever taught you that that was rude?”

He scoffed, an evil smirk cracking across his lips. “You’d better watch it. There’s no professor here.”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “Whatever will I do? Seriously, Enzo, what the hell do you think you’re going to do to me? I could best you in a duel any day.”

“McGonagall took our wands. What do you think you’re going to do?” he challenged, leaning forward onto the wooden desk.

“Maybe if you’d pay better attention in class, you’d be a bit better at wandless magic by now.” You cocked your head and shot him a teasing smile. 

He could talk a big game, but you’d shut him up perfectly well when you’d slapped him earlier. If he wanted to continue to insult you, you had no qualms with hitting him again. Just as he said, there was no professor in the room with you. You could easily get away with a second assault. 

Suddenly, he stood and crossed to the front of his desk. He leaned his body against it, crossing one ankle in front of the other, and setting back comfortably. His eyes watched your every move. A single strand of hair slipped loose from his expertly styled hair, tracing the line of his perfectly crooked nose. 

“What’s with the attitude today, huh? Have I not fucked you enough this week?” he asked, faking a pout with his reddened lips. He tilted his head to the side mockingly. You scoffed.

“Enzo, don’t be stupid. This has nothing to do with that. I told you in the middle of the argument that I was going to slap you if you didn’t get out of my face. And what did you do?”

“I didn’t back down from you, little girl.”

“And you got hit for it, dumbass.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the desk. While Enzo was the best body you’d had in a long, long while, you weren’t going to let his immaculate dick get in the way of your self-esteem. The Slytherin boys had a bit of a reputation for using girls, getting tired of them, then ditching them and leaving them with half of the confidence they had to begin with.

Enzo had an incredibly sculpted body, almost specifically designed for the rough sport of Quidditch he seemed to excel at. From the first time you saw him zipping through the sky—taut body stretching to catch the Quaffle and send it flying into the goalpost with the force of someone twice his size—you knew you had to have him. And that night, after the Slytherins had won and the after party had concluded, you had laid him down and rode him so ferociously, you’d locked him in from that moment on. As much as he loved to deny it, he needed you badly. 

You smirked.

He slowly waltzed across the classroom. His shoes clicked against the polished floors, echoing slightly off of the empty stone walls. Your eyes trained slowly upwards as he drew closer and closer before he stopped just before your desk. His intention was to hover over you and to make you feel small, but the seething stare you kept imprinted on his bright eyes ensured that you were in charge, not him. 

“Maybe it’s about time you had a bit of punishment,” he suggested. He placed the tips of his fingers on the edge of the desk, gently gliding them along the dented wood. A single fingernail absentmindedly traced some name carved messily into the desk. 

“Punishment?” you laughed. “If anything, it’s you who needs it. Maybe one hit wasn’t enough for you. I seem to recall the first night we fucked, you seemed to like it quite a bit when I’d hit you across the face, just like this morning. Tell me, baby, did you get hard when I did it earlier in front of all of your friends?” 

His fist came down hard on the table. You stood abruptly, backing away from his heaving body. The smirk refused to leave your lips. You pulled away slightly, leaning against one of the desks farther behind the one you previously occupied. You’d never seen him this mad before.

“Oh,” you pouted. “Did I hit a soft spot? God, imagine what your friends think. They know I’ve been fucking with you for the last few months, so what do they think, knowing I have complete control of you?”

“Yeah, right,” he snorted, inching closer to you, weaving in and out of desks and chairs.

“Enzo, baby, let’s be honest,” you smiled. “You’re like a dog on a leash. When I whistle, you come. In both the physical and transporting sense.” You continued to walk backwards, fingers caressing along desks as you passed by them. 

“Oh, you think this is a game? You think you’re in control?” he asked. You nodded sweetly. Anyone could see that you were, even those on the outside looking in.

“Aren’t I?” you asked. “You’re the one chasing after me here.” At your words, he stopped in his tracks and laughed meanly. He watched you closely as he slowly sat himself down in a wooden chair. The light creaking beneath his weight interrupted the echoing of his breathing. 

“Come here, baby,” he said gently, patting his lap with one heavy hand.

“Hmm, no. Try again.” You crossed your arms obstinately. He glanced around absentmindedly for a few moments as if thinking about something before he seemed to land on his solution. A small smile briefly flashed across his lips before disappearing again. Then, his eyebrows knitted together pitifully, as if he was on the verge of crying.

He slid down out of the chair, letting his knees hit the raw ground with a soft thud. His hands came forward, finding their position on the dusty floorboards, fingers streaking in the dirt. On all fours, he slowly began to crawl towards you. A few inches every second, a few breaths between his swollen lips, a few wobbles of his jaw, then he was paused before you with his lips hovering against your bare legs. 

You watched closely as he dragged his bottom lip from your knee up to the hem of your skirt before pulling away. A smile found its way on to your face at his behavior. At this point, all he needed to do was beg for forgiveness and offer his body up for the single use of your personal pleasure. Merlin, that would be the fucking day. 

“What do you say, baby?” you whispered, hand coming down to grab a hold of his jaw. You tilted his face up higher to look at you more directly. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for shouting at you earlier,” he whispered. Your thumb scraped across his mouth. At the sensation, a pink tongue darted between them and caressed gently over your skin. You smiled once more. You could get very used to seeing him on his knees like this. 

“I appreciate that, but I don’t think I can fully forgive you until you seek a bit more penance. In a physical form.” 

At that, you pushed yourself fully onto the desk behind you, legs falling slowly open. You revealed yourself to him. Between your decision to not wear tights today and the fact that your panties were hardly solid fabric as is, you figured it wouldn’t be much of a struggle to get him against you. His eyes glanced down beneath your skirt before flicking back up to you. He swallowed thickly, his throat tracking the shaky movement the whole way down. 

“What can I do for you?” he whispered. 

“Anything you want—just pleasure me and make me believe that you’re sorry.” 

Not a moment passed before he was jumping up from his position on the floor and crossing the remaining space between you two. You yelped as his hands trapped themselves behind your knees and tugged you toward the edge of the desk you sat atop. Before you had a chance to react to his annoying insubordination, he flipped your hips and pressed your chest roughly into the old wood. You shrieked at the assault, feeling a breeze inching its way up your back. His hands had yours tightly trapped behind your back. 

“Enzo! Let me go right fucking now!” you screamed. 

“Nuh uh, shush now,” he tutted. “You told me to pleasure you in any way that I wanted. I’ve decided what I want.” His words were menacing. A chill spread down your spine. 

With both of your wrists collected in his left hand, he freed his right to slip a finger behind his tie and loosen it. He pulled it from around his neck and rapidly fastened it around your wrists, binding them tightly against your back. You yelped at the tension burning against your shoulders.

“Fuck, Enzo! That’s too tight. Loosen it now or I swear—!” you started. His hands were then around your neck, interrupting your empty threats and loosening your tie, as well. You thrashed against his body but his hips pressed against your ass kept you locked against the desk.

“I swear to Merlin, you'd better let me up or I’ll scream.”

“Well, we can’t have any of that.” Suddenly, your tie appeared in front of your eyes in a flash. It slipped between your teeth and pulled tight against the edges of your mouth. He fastened the uniform fabric around the back of your head, careful to avoid tying your hair into it. You grunted rebelliously against the gag, trying to kick at him with your legs. 

“Besides, if I’m going to make you feel as good as I plan to, this’ll come in handy for how loud you’re about to scream.” His voice was a gravelly whisper against your ear, lips brushing against the shell. 

Eventually, you stopped struggling, and, at that point, he chuckled in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

He leaned up from where he’d been sprawled against your back and slowly pushed your skirt over your hips, revealing your ass to the cold air. You moaned against the gag as his thumb slid slowly through your slit, tracing the wetness that had already started to pool from the edge of your core to your entrance. He hissed at the warmth you gave off.

“I don’t know why you fight me so much—if you’d just lie still and let me fuck you, I think you’d be in a much better mood.” 

Then he was pulling your lace panties to the side and sliding a hot finger into you. You gasped, body tensing against the desk, as he spread you apart. It never mattered how many times he did this—you never got used to the stretch every part of his body provided to you. Before you’d even adjusted to the first one, he pushed a second finger in, and then a third. 

By the time he pulled his fingers from you, you were already dripping down the length of your thighs and the sides of his wrist. Behind you, you heard him place his fingers across his tongue and suck your essence from his skin. 

You rolled your jaw against the desk, propping your chin up to catch a glimpse of the door. The thought of a student or—worse—a professor walking in and catching the two of you made your stomach grumble with nausea. But, on the flip side, it also seemed to ramp up the heat in your abdomen. For some reason, the thought made you all the more ready for him to push himself into you.

Which, luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for. Without another breath, he worked his pants down his waist and legs and placed both hands on your ass. His fingers dug into your skin, massaging the muscle soothingly before laying a heavy slap to your right side. You stifled a scream against the desk. Your skin stung as if it’d been placed against fire. His fingers returned to the skin to move the heat around. 

Once he felt as though the pain had been appeased enough, he laid an even harder slap to your left side. This time, a bit of a shriek did break through the silence. You groaned at the pain, kicking your leg up and making sharp contact with his shin.

“Ah! You little shit.” He slammed his hand down on your ass again. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling. You couldn’t deny it—the thought only accelerated the wetness between your legs more. Fuck, you hated what he did to you. 

He reached around and pulled your gag from between your lips suddenly. The saliva-soaked fabric hung limply around your neck. “Now,” he growled in your ear. “Say you’re sorry for slapping me.”

“But you—” He shut you up by slamming himself into you down to the hilt. He slapped a hand around your mouth as you screamed out. 

“Say you’re sorry.” He began to pump rapidly into you. Every single thrust hammered into every spot you needed him to. He was relentless with his pace.

“I’m sorry,” you cried out against his hand. Your hands clenched tightly where they were wound against your back, fingernails biting into your palms. 

Finally, he pulled himself off of you and gathered your hips into his hands once more. He fucked you hard and rough, demanding that you feel every inch of him. His hip bones slammed against your ass with cracks that echoed like magic. Your eyes rolled upwards at the pleasure he forced into your body. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic. Hitting me then pretending like you run this show. I fuck you, not the other way around. At the end of the night, you’re the one screaming into my shoulder; you’re the one pulling me closer with your legs; you’re the one clenching me with this dripping cunt. And who gets you like this every time—fucking soaked and begging for more? Fucking me, you stupid slut. You think you can treat me like that, huh?” He punctuated his question with an especially hard thrust. You whimpered, teeth clenching briefly around the edge of the desk. “You ever act like that in front of my friends again and I’ll fuck this tight cunt right in front of them and the entire fucking school. I’ll tie you up like I have you right now and let every single student and professor watch as I end you.”

You whined aloud at his words. The images he painted in your mind ramped the sensations he was giving you to a million. Every movement he pushed into you urged you closer and closer to that sweet release you were desperate before. 

As you started to tighten around him, he chuckled meanly. His fingers dug into your hips. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Just like you do every time?”

You said nothing. He grabbed your tied hands and pulled you upwards, forcing your back into his chest. The new angle hit an especially deep spot inside of you. You gasped at the feeling. You were right on the edge of your release.

“Answer me!” he growled.

“Yes! Enzo, please, baby. I’m so fucking close,” you whined aloud. 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” He pushed you back onto the desk and forced himself against you faster and faster until the bubble in your stomach was bursting and raining down across his and your thighs. He groaned as the wet slick painted his skin. 

Once your high began to diminish, he pumped himself into you relentlessly until he was coming hard. He forced every ounce of his spend deep into you until he was finished and caught his breath. Once he was done, he pulled himself out of you.

“I think that ought to teach you, baby.” He pulled his pants back onto his hips and fastened his belt. You could feel his release pulsing out of your core and seeping down your legs. Sweat dripped down your forehead. Your ass was still exposed. 

“Whatever, Enzo. Just untie me,” you said. He paused and walked around to the front of the desk you laid across. You watched his body make every step until he stopped before you. A single hand came down to tilt your chin up towards him, just as you had done to him earlier.

“What was that?” he whispered. His voice was like steel.

“I asked you to untie me.”

“I don’t recall you asking anything. You demanded. Haven’t you learned anything?” he asked, clicking his tongue disappointingly. You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.

“Okay, I get the point, En. Now, untie me. A professor or student could walk in at any time.”

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” he smirked down at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Merlin. Please!” you sighed. 

“Mm, I think it’s too late for that. Your attitude fucking sucks. I shouldn’t have to ask you to say please. It seems this little session didn’t teach you much of a lesson.” 

He paused for a moment, then smiled decidedly. “Maybe this will, sweetheart.”

“Enzo, what—?” He interrupted you by pulling the gag back over your mouth, retightening it against your mouth and walking back behind you. He smoothed your skirt over the length of your back, ensuring that your ass was exposed, pumped full of his cum. He double-checked that your arms were fastened tightly against your back. You struggled against the desk, cussing his every fucking movement as best you could through the gag. 

He leaned down beside your ear and placed a small kiss to the shell of it. “Let’s learn from our mistakes, baby.”  

Then, with a whoosh, he Disapparated and rendered the room into complete silence. You scoffed in surprise, eyes widening and breath heaving in and out. There was no fucking way he just left you like this. 

The next time you saw Enzo Berkshire, you were going to make sure you returned the fucking favor. Exactly how he had. 

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn , @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74

[6gumi]

scandalous!

synopsis ﹒bllk men reassuring you that all those useless false scandals and fake news online are false ! ( in a rather . . peculiar way than normal reassurance . . <3 )

pairings﹒ michael kaiser, itoshi sae, oliver aiku x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited ( mistakes might be present ) 、 blowie ( oliver aiku ) 、dirty talk 、riding ( michael kaiser ) 、small titplay ( itoshi sae ) 、mentions of cheating but it doesn’t acc happen, promise ! 、v4ginal fingering ( itoshi sae ) 、use of feminine terms ( girl, gf (?) etc) 、 more tba !

note ﹒hello every1 ! ! :,3 wrote this while working on my art project lol ! ! ! first bllk work i believe ? ? i hope there isn’t too many mistakes in this one i’m very very sleepy trying 2 make my art look nice . . :,3 | reblogs r highly appreciated, feel free 2 send me an ask ! — millie ♡

୨୧ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

“come on, mein liebling . . is that really what you’re worried about? i assure you . . these pathetic scandals aren’t true anyways.” with a firm grasp on your hip, he guided you on his cock with such elegance and ease, wanting to fuck all worrying emotions lingering beneath that pretty face of yours. “speak to me, liebling. do you seriously believe all of those rumours going around about me? about us?” his voice was addictive . . your head was completely empty . . filled with nothing but his damn voice. even so, these stupid rumours and scandals . . . as reassuring as he is, you can’t help but think maybe there’s some truth behind those rumours.

sweat glistened his well-fit body and yours, mingling the intoxicating fragrances within the air. squeezing your breasts in his hands with a lick of his lips, his fingers grazed down your spine, grunting at his own sharp and desperate thrusts. you rode him with the same amount of desperation and arousal he had. your passion filled him with both satisfaction and hope . . hope that you believed you were his only, utterly dependent and devoted to you. the blonde’s fingers dug into your soft flesh as every movement brought you both closer into harmony, each groan echoed against the walls of your shared bedroom. “that’s it . . .” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breathing ragged from exertion. "ride me hard, beautiful.”

your face contorted in pleasure as you slammed yourself down against his cock, feeling the tip kiss your sweet-spots as you struggle to speak up, the mere feeling of his cock was enough to send you to heaven itself ! just then, your mouth opened to speak. “i—it’s not impossible,” you murmured, “what if you’re lying to me . .” “oh baby . . . do you really think i’m not telling the truth?” kaiser’s face grew serious, snapping his hips upwards against your pussy. he relished the feel of your warm body against his, wanting to fuck those precious thoughts out of you. he was telling the truth, those stupid articles . . were only trying to ruin his image. his large hands gripped your hips tighter, his nails practically digging into your skin with a sense of desperation . . wanting to prove himself to you.

“mein liebling . . . seriously. i’m telling the truth. i’m telling the truth when i say this pussy is mine and mine only. and i’m definitely telling the truth when i say this cock is yours to fuck yourself dumb on.”

“ . . you, mein blume . . . have nothing to worry about. my cock belongs to you.”

୨୧ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

“i mean it, [name].” sae whispered against your ear, sending streams of electricity through your spine. his renewed determination to reassure you became his goal for the day, pressing his nose against your neck again, inhaling the scent of your fragrance. he had you seated on his lap, his hardness pressing close against your ass . . . trying his best to hold it in when the time comes. his fingers darted out again, swirling around the sensitive nub. “y—you don’t mean it . .” you protested, which only made things more harder for sae. he hated when you doubt his words, his movements growing more confident and skilled with each passing moment . . mind focused solely on pleasing his pretty girlfriend who was all worried about these articles that weren’t even true.

“i do mean it.” your boyfriend’s heart pounded in his chest, free hand reaching out to touch your breasts. his fingers brushed against your nipples, making them harder than steel. "hm. what can i do to make you believe me?” he grips your hips, pulling you towards him, erection straining against his shorts as he struggled the urges to fuck himself balls deep into your pussy. “those articles aren’t always true, angel-face. i mean it. i’m telling the truth, okay?”

grinding his cock against your lower back, he pushed another finger inside. your walls trembled, gripping his digits with pure vigour, you could almost feel his cock throb ! “mmh.. but the article . . .” your whimpers were music to his ears, pleasure dancing across your face, replacing the looks of uncertainty and concern. an absurd wave of protectiveness washed over sae then— the idea that these people were making up false and uncouth claims and lies filled his heart with sick dissatisfaction. their declaration of his infidelity was another layer to his coldness, he hated all of them, he wanted you and you only . . . was that not obvious ?

“i know, angel, but they’re not true.” he whispered huskily, holding your heavy breasts steady. “fuck . . . you always say such pretty things," he murmured against their your damp hair, fingers lightly grazing down your labia as he thrusted them back in, wanting to make you cum and lose your mind completely. “please, you know those articles are just bullcrap trying to put our relationship at risk. but i’m not letting it happen.” there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he pulled out from within you, leaving behind an echo of fullness in your core.

“you know i love you, angel-face. is that in your head yet? or do i have to fuck it into you?”

୨୧ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

“oh fuck . . baby, you’re suckin’ me good.” oliver bit back a grunt, eyes drifting shut. he was supposed to be reassuring your pretty little head that he only had eyes for you, but it feels too fucking good. too tempting. he hoped and prayed you wouldn’t blame him later for wanting your mouth. the way your wet heat surrounds him sends him in a frenzy . . . your tongue swirling and dancing around was enough to drive him absolutely insane, he wanted to push your head down further onto his dick, thrust inside and give you all of him . . show you just how truthful he was being at this moment. “m—mmf . . listen baby, all those articles are just tryna’ ruin people’s images of me, of us. they ain’t real and will never be, kay?”

the sensation of your soft mouth enveloping him sends electricity straight to his body, wanting more of your mouth. desire raced through his veins, drowning out rational thought. your warm breath, soft moans . . he can hear all, feel every stroke of your tongue. your small sobs, and even those pretty tears. ohh . . . those tears. he loves them. gripping the armrest, fighting to maintain control. your precious tears streaming down your face . . . it only aroused him further, his dick twitching in your mouth.

you sniffled, trying your best to accommodate his size. “baby, i’m really telling the truth. all those cheating rumours . . . those pictures are photoshopped— ah fuck . . baby you gotta’ believe me.” oliver groaned loudly, mouth curling into a satisfied yet concerned smile as he watched his dick go in and out of your lips, his hips slowly moving on their own as he slammed himself against you, forcing you to take more of his cock. “i’m tellin’ ya, baby doll,” his voice rasped hoarsely in the air, swallowing a lump in his throat. “does my cock being in ya not prove anythin’? you’re the only one i imagine suckin’ me off so perfectly like this . .”

oliver couldn’t help but grin cheekily at the slurping he heard from you, “damn, you’re takin’ it all, baby. always knew ya were my girl . . never thought i’d end up with such a pretty girl like you . . don’t believe those dumb rumours, kay?” a low groan escaped your beloved boyfriend, hands running through your hair tenderly, guiding your movements until he could take it no longer. “just like that, darlin'. make me yours, again and again."

“can’t wait to be inside ya tonight. provin’ to you that i only want my dick to be inside this pussy.”

[gublerryswift]

Oh no, i love him | Spencer reid x Bestfriend! Fem! Reader

pure fluff

u can find part.2 here!!

content: Spencer is flirty (:o shocking, i knowww), Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (down bad for this.), Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone, Penelope interrupts them, but it's fine because she's a princess.

a/n: heavily based on my need to bury my head in Spencer's chest at any minor inconvenience.

Ever since you joined the team, you always seemed to gravitate towards Spencer. He made you feel so comfortable, so seen. Naturally you two developed a friendship, now best friends, joined at the hip, never to be seen apart from the other. 

To anyone seeing from the outside it was clear the other feelings between you two, the tension, the stolen glances. At this point, you two acted as a married couple, but still pretended to only see each other as friends. 

-

You could not sleep, having nightmares the whole night flashes of Spencer lying down, bleeding going through your mind, images so clear you almost thought it was reality. The current case the team is working on is keeping you awake. This unsub, for a still unknown reason, has been targeting Spencer and you guys cannot get to the reason why.

You get in the office early, settling your things down at your table and heading to the kitchen. You catch yourself preparing two coffees, one with an ungodly amount of sugar and the other black. Right on cue, Spencer gets in the office. 

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?" 

"Good morning Spence, and you already know it, horrible" You say, handing him the coffee as he places a kiss on your cheek, and you try not to blush – you hoped to master that hence the amount of times you'd have to do it when you're next to him but no he always found new ways to make you blush and stumble at your words like a teenage girl with a crush. 

"What bothers that pretty mind of yours" He says, taking a sip of his coffee and opening a small smile, noticing how you always remember how he likes it. 

"It's this fucking case, it's been 2 weeks, and we can't figure it out, the MO is all over the place, and now he's targeting you… It's just… I'm worried" you say, getting close to Spencer and putting your head to his chest as you often did when the world just got too much  "we need to find this fucking guy" your voice coming out muffled against his cardigan. 

"We will catch him, it's only a matter of time, honey. You don't need to worry, ok? I'll be fine, we will be fine." He says, grabbing your chin and making you look up, making sure you're looking at his eyes while he says that. 

"If you ever die, i'll kill you. Be aware of that Spencer Reid" You say in a fake serious tone

Spencer puts his arms around your waist, making you two be even closer now  

"Oh, i wouldn't dare to do that"  he says giggling and placing a strand of your hair behind your ear 

There's a lingering moment of silence, you two just stand there, the closest you've ever been just… looking at each other. Being this close to him, you can see all the hues of brown in those beautiful eyes of his. And almost as if there's this gravitational force, you two start to get closer 

"Hey guys, i saw you getting in is there any coffe lef-" Garcia enters the office kitchen, scaring you both to opposite sides of the space 

"Yeah there's um.. Some left there i think" You say, face burning with the embarrassment

"We're you two…" She says, pointing between you and reid 

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer gives her a death glare 

"Alright! … I'm just going to pour up some coffee and be out!" Penelope says rushing to get out

"Derek Morgan, you will not believe what a just saw" You can hear her saying as soon as she steps out of the kitchen, and you two can't help but burst into laughter 

"Well, i better go now, a lot of files. And um bad guys and stuff" 

"Yeah, me too" Spencer says, also blushing.  

You rush out the kitchen and as you walk over to your desk, a realization hits you 

"Oh shit,

Oh shit. I'm in love with him"

You think to yourself, realizing there's no way you can deny the feelings anymore. 

[colonelarr0w]

Can you write one where Astarion realizes that Tav is acting strangely because it's actually Orin and the actual Tav is kidnapped by her?? Thank you so much and I love your work!!

A/N - Oh my god I absolutely adore the trope of kidnapped lover being rescued (the parasites in me crave the angst). I hope you like this, I had a lot of fun writing it! So thank you @fanficlov-3-r <3

I Know You

Preview - "And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, '(Y/N) isn't amongst us.'"

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon BG3 violence

Word Count - 3.9k

Astarion prided himself on his ability to have memorized everything about you, from how your nose scrunched when you saw something you disliked to how your eyes sparkled when you noticed him staring at you from across the fire. It was those little things that simply made you … well … you. 

Which was why he found it very offputting when he noticed your excessive alcohol intake while attending a Tiefling party. Yes, you liked to indulge in a glass of wine or two while you chatted happily with Astarion or any of your other companions – but never had he seen you cradle an entire bottle of wine to yourself and drink it in its entirety. 

But that behavior was only one of multiple that he had noticed throughout the night; you were dancing with any Tiefling who offered their hand, you seemed to stray away from him and the others throughout the night, and the smile you wore did not reach your eyes in the slightest. It seemed fake, similar to the smiles that Astarion had once flashed at you to get your clothes off. 

“Is it just me or does (Y/N) seem a little … off?” Shadowheart comments, her eyebrow raising as she watches you indulge another Tiefling in a drunken dance. You stumble over both your feet and his own, a detail that both she and Astarion narrow their eyes at. 

For an oh-so-grateful leader, you were being careless tonight. 

Astarion’s eyes follow those of Shadowheart’s, landing on you just as you are finishing a dance with your fifth Tiefling of the night. He bows to you shakily, and in return, you curtsy – another move that Astarion had never thought he would see you perform. 

“I must say that I agree with Shadowheart. Excuse me for a moment,” Astarion abandons his half-empty wine glass, sliding it across the bar. The bartender raises a brow at Astarion, but says nothing. 

You chuckle heartily as a Tiefling female approaches you, in her hands a sparkling glass of champagne. You take it from her the moment it’s offered, just about to bring it to your lips before a pale hand clasps over your shoulder. 

“Ah-ah darling, I think that’s enough with the drinking for one night,” Astarion says with a fanged smile, angling himself so that he’s able to pluck the champagne glass from your hands quickly. You turn to him, eyebrows pinched together in an expression that mixes frustration and shock – as if you had been caught doing something that you shouldn’t. 

“Come off Astarion, I can indulge if I so choose,” you retort quickly, fingers extending towards your glass. Astarion lifts his arm, the glass just barely out of your reach. “You are indulging tonight, are you not?”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against your shoulder as his scarlet eyes rake over your figure. Something was wrong, it wasn’t just your general composure – it was everything down to the very way that you stood on your own two feet. 

“While that is true, I am watching what I indulge in,” Astarion says, already glancing at Shadowheart, who nods knowingly. She mumbles something inaudibly then to Gale, and soon a secret message is relayed over all of your companions. 

The Tiefling female had long since left your side, only adding to your annoyance that Astarion had come to your side. You turn sharply to face him, eyes narrowing at him. 

“And just explain to me why you thought it necessary to disrupt my fun?” you snap, glaring daggers into the vampire who stands in front of you. Astarion merely sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. His eyes flicker over you again, and it is in that moment that he realizes something … you were most certainly not you. 

And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, “(Y/N) isn’t amongst us.” 

“Because I know you (Y/N), and right now,” Astarion pauses only to yank you closer, lowering his lips to your ear. “You are not who you say that you are.”

You freeze in his arms, eyes flickering to look at him. The crease in your eyebrows vanishes, your expression of frustration replaced now by one of shock. “What are you on about?”

“Oh come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” Astarion growls, his grip over your wrist tightening, “I know (Y/N), and she would never indulge in such things of her own accord.”

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, not protesting as a very angered Astarion drags you out of the Tiefling party. He is quickly flanked by Shadowheart and the others, none of whom offer you looks of sympathy – if anything, they look just as angered as the vampire in front of you. 

The moment that your feet touch camp, your wrists and ankles are promptly tied by Karlach, who offers you no answers even as you demand to know what in the hells is going on. Astarion stands quietly at her side, his arms folded over his chest whilst his mind promptly races.

Where were you? Who was sitting in your place? Where the hells were you?

With a singular wave of his hand over your body, Gale reveals Orin to the others, then steps back and glares down his nose at her. In response, her lips only turn upward in a grin, one that sends a shiver down the spines of those that surround her. 

“Where is–”

“Oh please, save me the dramatics,” Orin says with a roll of her eyes, adjusting herself so that she sits comfortably. Her attention moves to Astarion, her smile widening at the sight of the expression that he wears. 

“You have five minutes to answer our questions before–”

Orin’s head tilts in Lae’zel’s direction, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens impossibly further. Her lips part, a delighted chuckle falling from her lips. “Before what? You kill me? If I die, (Y/N)’s location dies with me.”

In a flash of white and silver, the blade of a dagger is pressed against the skin of Orin’s neck, pressed down just hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. Astarion kneels in front of Orin, narrowed eyes glaring daggers into her as his lips pull back in an angered growl. 

“You will reveal (Y/N)’s location lest you want to end up a paled mess on the ground.” He was shocked by how much your disappearance had affected him – especially considering that he was supposed to be keeping his affection for you a secret from the others. 

There was a reason behind his secrecy, however, a reason that you had agreed with when he had first proposed the idea to you. It was for your safety, for your protection. But it seemed like even with that … he still couldn’t keep the one thing that kept him sane safe. 

Orin chuckles, leaning forward so that her nose just barely grazes his own. He can feel her breath as it fans over his face – it disgusts him. 

“Is that so?” Her head tilts, another delighted chuckle bubbling up her throat and spilling over her lips. Astarion pushes the blade further against her, ignoring the yells of warning delivered by the other members of the party. 

His eyes narrow, his eyebrows pinch together, and his expression hardens. Orin only chuckles again, sighing dreamily in a way that reminds Astarion of a hopelessly lovesick girl. Gods, what he would give to plunge the blade of his dagger into her neck. 

“Fine, but I hope you know I’m not yielding because of your … intimidation,” Orin murmurs, pouting childishly as Astarion pulls her to her feet, still glaring at her. He says nothing as he drags her past the others, not checking over his shoulder to see that the others have followed him.

< … >

Another chilled shiver runs up the length of your spine, using your vertebrae as a ladder. You turn uncomfortably onto your side, trying once again to tug your ankles from their shackles. All you’re met with is the sound of rattling metal. 

It had been a few hours … or perhaps even a few days since you last saw the others. You didn’t know – perhaps time worked differently when you were captured. 

The last you remembered, you were walking silently along a forest pathway with Astarion a few feet behind you. You were engrossed in the beauty of the willow trees that hung silently over you, their branches serving you the beautiful luxury of shade that covered you from the sun’s blaring rays. 

Just as you turned a corner in the forest, a cold hand that wasn’t Astarion’s clasped over your own, tugging you away into a forest patch. One good knock to the side of the head … and that was the last that you were able to clearly remember. 

When you awoke, your ankles were shackled to a wall and your wrists were bound with rope, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and leaving behind angry red marks. 

Your body had been littered with marks; cuts, bruises, and gashes. At first, they hadn’t hurt you at all – but you blamed that entirely on your adrenaline. Now every cut burned, every bruise ached, and every gash felt as though it would never stop bleeding. 

Surely every vampiric creature within a 50-mile radius could smell your blood … especially considering how much of it lay in a disgusting puddle surrounding your body. 

A shaky breath escapes you, one that you surely hoped would be your last. Your teary eyes flicker around the cell that you’d been thrown into; the cell that lacked even so much as a window. You were completely disconnected from the outside world, and for a singular moment, you thought that maybe you had died. 

And maybe you were okay with that now … with dying. 

Even though for so long you had tried your hardest to protect everyone – practically throwing your life down on the line for the lives of your companions – being captured was making you realize something. 

Maybe they didn’t care about you nearly as much as you cared about them.

If they cared, they would be searching for you. If they cared, you wouldn’t be bleeding out in some dank old cell with no way to know what time of day it was. If they cared … they would prove it, wouldn’t they?

A choked sob claws its way up your throat, legs curling inward. You wrap your arms around them, hugging them against your chest as your body curls inward into a fetal position. 

They didn’t care. Not Gale, not Karlach, not Lae’zel, not Shadowheart. 

Not even Astarion.

Astarion …

After everything that you had done for him. You had spared him that morning while walking with Shadowheart. You had let him stay in your camp even though he spat venomous insults each time you interacted politely with him. Hells, you had even let the damn man feed on you. 

In exchange for your blood, he was letting you rot alone in a cell. 

So much for helping others, you think quietly to yourself, tears slipping down your cheeks as your lashes flutter shut. A gentle numbness spreads over you as if someone had draped a blanket over you. It felt nice. It felt safe. 

Your shoulders relax, your lips part. 

One gentle breath falls from your lips before all goes silent.

< … >

“Come on now, I’ve led you right to where she is! The least you can do is entertain a conversation,” Orin complains loudly, huffing childishly as Astarion continues shoving her forward. 

There was no lie to her words, she had led Astarion and the others to where she had thrown you – a dimly lit dungeon hallway that was only filled with the sounds of low groans and dripping water, but even those had become scarce the longer that they walked. 

“The only thing I’ll entertain is your demise,” Astarion bites out, though he desperately wishes that he had kept his mouth shut. Orin doesn’t fail to catch the tremble in his voice – the vulnerability that seeps from his words. 

Her lips curl, another delighted chuckle rumbling somewhere deep inside of her chest. Her eyes flicker to catch a glimpse of Astarion’s profile, her chuckle deepening as she notices the emotional turmoil sketched into his features. 

“I wonder what you will do to me when you realize that she’s–”

“Hush,” Astarion hisses, reaching down and yanking the bonds around Orin’s wrist. The rub of the rope against her skin is enough to silence her. “Not another word out of you, wench.”

Orin stifles the small whimper of pain that had threatened to fall from her lips, instead turning to the cell that they were nearing; your cell. 

At the sight of the metal bars and uneven stones, she giggles. Astarion passes her off to Shadowheart, ignoring the cleric’s protests as he approaches the cell. 

“Oh shit.”

The world seems to go completely silent at the sight that lies before Astarion’s eyes, a sight that he immediately wishes that he could forget. 

You lay on your side with your back facing the cell’s door, blood – your blood – surrounding you in a crimson puddle. The bits of skin that Astarion can see are littered with cuts and bruises, your legs covered in gashes that continue to drip with fresh blood. 

In any other situation, Astarion would have marveled at both the sight and smell of your blood … perhaps even allowed himself to indulge in it. 

But now?

Gods, he had never been more disgusted by any one sight or smell. 

“Astarion? What’s – oh my Gods,” Karlach raises a hand to her mouth, palm covering her lips as she gazes upon the same sight as Astarion. The others join her, and each of them falls silent. “You take … her … and get out of here.”

Shadowheart nods, shooting Orin a sharpened glare before tugging the shapeshifter back down the way that they had come, ignoring her yells of protests and the way that she struggles against the ropes that bind her wrists together. 

With one tug at the already worn-down metal, Karlach disconnects the bars of the cell. She steps inside, carefully approaching you before copying her previous actions and removing the shackles from around your ankles. 

“(Y/N)?” she murmurs down to you, lightly shaking your shoulder while simultaneously trying to be sure that she does not burn you – the last she wants is to add to your injuries. 

She’s pushed aside by Astarion, who kneels beside you and feels his breath hitch at the sight of your paled face. Your cheeks have lost their usual rosy color, replaced instead by a white that looked as though it could rival the color of his hair. 

“Shit,” is the only thing that he’s able to say properly before he scoops you into his arms. He shakes on his feet for a moment, the sudden weight in his arms debilitating his balance. He says nothing as he strides past the others, making a beeline for the exit.

< … >

The first thing that you feel is a dull ache, then followed by a wave of pain that has you shooting upright and promptly vomiting onto whatever surface happens to be beside you. The moment you’ve finished emptying your stomach, a piece of cloth is offered to you by a pale hand – a familiar one this time. 

Hesitantly, you take it, dabbing the cloth against your mouth before looking up to who had handed it to you. 

“Astarion?”

“That would be my name, yes darling,” Astarion responds, though his tone doesn’t hold his usual flirtatious lilt that you had grown so used to. No, he sounds exhausted … it made you wonder just how long he had sat at your bedside. 

Your eyes roam over him, taking note of the tiny, barely-there bags that rest beneath his eyes. For a man who cared so deeply about appearance, he surely looked as though he had let himself go … likely because of you.

As much as you wish to take him into your arms and comfort you, a fleeting thought passes through your mind — he had taken his sweet time in finding you. 

If the roles had been reversed, and it had been Astarion who was taken from you, you already knew that you would have searched Heaven and Earth trying to find him. No stone would have been left unturned, no witness left unspoken to … you would have stopped at nothing. 

But it felt as though Astarion hadn’t cared enough, if he had, you wouldn’t have been as badly wounded as you were. You wouldn’t have laid in that cell for as long as you have, not that you knew the length of time in which you had been missing anyway. 

Astarion’s head lifts at the sound of you rustling, body scooting back from him until your spine rests against the headboard of your bed. You lift your knees to your chest, hugging around them. 

“Darling?”

You remain silent, but you allow your eyes to raise to meet his awaiting gaze. He waits patiently, though you can’t help but feel as though he’s analyzing you.

“How long have I been gone?” you ask. Astarion pauses, scarlet eyes flickering away from you. He swallows, you can see the emotional turmoil that swims in his eyes. Answer me, you usher in your mind. 

“Orin wouldn’t tell us,” Astarion answers honestly, voice wavering as he recounts his angered questioning of the shapeshifter. She had only giggled in his presence and “answered” his question with another question of her own. 

You remain silent, nodding to yourself as you glance down at the bandages that adorn your arms and legs. It makes you wonder if Astarion had patched you himself … or perhaps he had made one of your other companions do it. 

You lift your head, noticing now that Astarion’s attention was focused elsewhere. His expression looks identical to your own — caught in his own mind. Guilt. 

Did he feel guilty?

“Does anything—“ he pauses to clear his throat, “—anything hurt you?”

”Just my arms and legs,” you answer. Astarion nods, inhaling deeply and shifting in his chair. For some twisted reason, you want him to stand up and leave. Maybe it was to further prove your point, or maybe you just wanted to be alone. 

You’d never really know the true answer. 

He hums, nodding to himself before he shifts again. For a fleeting moment, he debates on whether or not he should stand and exit — it was clear that you wanted your space anyway. 

Astarion knew you … and he knew that right now, you certainly didn’t want him around. Never were you short with him, but your tone insinuated that you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Not that he could honestly blame you. 

And so, he stands from his chair. You don’t lift your head to look at him again … telling. 

“Why did you take so long to come for me?”

He freezes, feeling as though someone had doused him in freezing water. His back stands rigid; you could see the way that his spine visibly tenses the moment that his mind processes what it was that you had asked him. 

You snap your jaw shut the moment that the words fall from your lips, regret filling your senses. Sheepishly, you look down, staring at your lap and screwing your eyes shut. 

You freeze at the feeling of arms wrapping over your shoulders, tugging you against a chest that you had spent many nights resting against. His skin felt cold against yours, a welcome contrast to the heat that was currently making you very uncomfortable. 

Astarion’s cheek rests against the side of your head, his hands squeezing at your waist while also being mindful of the injuries that you had sustained. He sighs shakily into your hair, feeling himself relax as he feels you reciprocate his embrace. 

“The moment that I realized that I was not interacting with you, I went out to find you,” Astarion confesses, holding you tighter as he recounts the fear in the moment when he realized that you were not you. 

You remain silent, simply soaking up the comfort that Astarion’s arms provides you with. Your head rests comfortably in the junction that connects his neck and his shoulder, nose buried into his neck. 

“You have … absolutely no idea how frightened I was,” he whispers, his voice so low that it even the rustle of the blankets overpowered his words. His arms shake where they rest around your waist, his fingernails just barely digging into the exposed skin of your waist. “The prospect of losing you–”

“Astarion.”

He pauses, feeling you shift in his arms. Without any word of protest, he releases you, settling onto his knees on the bed in front of you. You adjust yourself, then reach out to take his hands into your own. 

Astarion flinches. You pause, waiting for him to say something to you. He doesn’t, and so you take it as an okay to continue. Your fingers squeeze his own, the action directing his eyes to your own. 

You stay silent for a second or two, simply taking in the way that Astarion’s eyes soften at you. His usually sharp scarlet eyes are glazed over now with a new emotion – guilt. Guilt over not being there for you, guilt over not saving you sooner …

… guilt that you had gotten hurt. 

“Darling, if I had the chance to save you sooner, know that I would have taken it without a second of hesitation,” Astarion admits, shifting an inch closer to you. You feel the tears building along your waterline, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you attempt to suppress the sobs that begin to bubble up somewhere in your chest. 

One of his hands releases yours, hesitantly laying against your face. He thumbs away the tears in your eyes, sighing as you crumple and reach for him again. Astarion doesn’t waste a single second, wrapping you in his arms and resting his chin against the top of your head. 

“I thought that,” you hiccup, “you and the others had forgotten about me.”

His arms tighten around you at that declaration, chest promptly collapsing it on itself as he realizes just how scared you had been. He doesn’t want to imagine what you must have been thinking in that cell, likely thinking about if you would ever be saved.

If he would ever come for you.

“Never,” he whispers into your hair, fingers stroking comforting circles into the small of your back. “I would never forget you, ever.”

“You are the first thing in my entire life that makes me feel … feel something. Something other than burning hatred. You make this wretched world worth living in.”

You squeeze at him, hands bunching up his shirt from behind. He doesn’t bring attention to it, letting you cling to him with as much force as you need. 

“And I’m not going to let you go. Not now, not ever,” he promises you. You close your eyes, sighing shakily through your nose. He can feel your nod against his chest, his cheek leaning further into your hair. 

And that night, when the glistening moon hung over your tent and signaled to your companions that it was time to rest, Astarion remained at your side – fulfilling his promise.

He wasn’t going to let you feel that scared again. Not now, not ever.

[kroosluvr]

the celeste celexcity kroosluvr swap au (i don't have a good name for this yet)

basics bc i haven't decided much yet

UHHH basically what it says on the images... akira is playing on maruki's side and they don't know if it's just to be a contrarian or if he actually believes in it. but akira in this au is very ends-justify-the-means + the fact that he's a dead man so he dgaf that it's the "wrong decision." he won't be there to see it anyways, no matter which route they take, but at least in the fake reality umm One version of akira kurusu is happy!

engine room and stuff plays out as normal i imagine those black mask plot beats r the same

+ post engine room, in 3rd sem akira's personality doesn't rlly change all that much. hes always been Shrewd Scammer Silver tongued untrustworthy bastard type and nothing changes even then. there are moments when he seems more 'vulnerable' but also sumire+goro cant be certain if its an act either

i think akira has a "well if they both hate me thatll make things easier" mindset regardless

shido is still goro's dad and all that and akira works for shido for whatever reason and he learns abt that and holds it over goro's head the same way he grates on sumire abt kasumi

o yeah akira wasnt like Particularly close w kasumi (he isnt particularly close w anyone) but they talked casually. he never rlly met sumire. it's funny when he meets 'kasumi' bc like obviously shes lying LMAO but he just genuinely doesnt care enough to find out (<- akira very selfish and just focused on his own goals on his lonesome). either way his interactions w her are funny bc hes like Hahahh yeah... (What hte hell isgoing on. Whatever)

also i think this goro doesn't meet all the pthieves/confidants in the same Order as canonverse akira, like i feel like he'd "team up" with yusuke first somehow (ake/kita fan THUMBSUP EMOJ)

sumire basically thesame. i changed her earring color frm gold-> silver just for differentiation pruposes (and itll fit better w her pthief design in swap bc itll be differnetntn!!! yay!!) uhhh but shes kinda more sardonic out loud thanks to akira being annoying

shes rlly embarrassed abt being "kasumi" to goro and so shes all like distancing herself like "sorry i know it was stupid of me and i totally get it if u dont trust me anymore bc i wasnt who i said i was" etc but goros also like thats in the past and also we kinda are the only ones in the world rn so we just have to put that aside for now and also kick akiras ass

THATS AL I CAN THINK OF RN it's kinda vibes right now bc im never good at figuring out entire plotlines LMFASOPFJS024320 falls over. Major plot holes probably and shit wont make sense it's a big JUST TRUST ME + i just wanna draw random stuff w them moment ummm uhh uh runs

[r3starttt]

OBLIVIATE | 00

ellabs x reader | series m.list | > CHAPTER ONE

an: comment to be added to the taglist!

SUMMARY: Amidst the seemingly flawless life, at the peak of the perfection, a looming fear emerges from the very plan that set everything in motion. It shadows you and your wife like a persistent ghost. Memories of youth and a vow to eternal love now cling relentlessly, tempting them to give it another chance.

CW: WIP. +18 content. poly relationship. threesome. sexting. smut encounters. description of sex. modern au. famous au. college au. ex to lovers. time skips.

hockey player! a. rockstar! e. actress! r.

Faded Polaroids lingered between your fingers, each one handled with the utmost delicacy and love.

PROLOGUE

You and Abby had just moved for the third time this year. This entire week had been a blur of sleepless nights spent unpacking. Abby had refused to allow anyone else access to the privacy of your new home, earning frequent scoldings from you, constantly reminding her how things could've been much easier that way.

You only accepted her request because of a very specific person on your mind.

Since your careers took off, neither of you had had a proper chance to settle down. Constantly rushing for interviews and switching roles between trophy wife and fame that left little room for stability.

As you organized the fancy shelfs she bought for the leaving room, Abby found a box filled with memories from her teenage years—music albums, books, and albums she had brought from her home after your marriage, knowing how much you cherished such things.

Taking a break to eat and rest, you both decided to sift through them. You laughed at her old photos, where she looked adorable or, as she called herself, 'nerdy' with her first pair of glasses. Constantly melting at her baby pictures, falling even more in love with the woman before you.

However, the comfort dimmed when you found a particular Polaroid—one you had once begged to take so you would never forget that day. Abby rested her head on your shoulder in the photo, your arms on each side, holding the camera, an auburn girl on your other side.

"What's that?" Abby's voice took you off trance. Your eyes flickered between the Polaroid in your hand and her face, simply leaning the picture to her.

"Guess we mixed them last time" She muttered quietly "Thought you put it here on purpose" a dismissive tone in those words, such a fake acting.

"Nah, I've got a whole box for it" you met her eyes. Your eyebrows furrowing at the tone on her voice, mocking you.

"I've been thinking about her" You handed her another picture, a small dog on Abby's lap. An intent to distract her from the emotions your words might evoke.

"Yeah?" Her hand brushed yours as she took the Polaroid. "What about her?" The couch creaked as she shifted closer to you.

"How's she doing?" you whispered, breaking the silence that kep on growing between both. "You've herd the news." Abby inquired, quite nonchalantly

"I miss her," you admitted. Saying it aloud felt strange, almost wrong- it left a bittersweet taste.

You hoped she would say something, but instead, she was distracted by another Polaroid she handed you seconds later. It was one you had never seen before, there she was, Ellie Williams

-

It all started with what was supposed to be a studying session, for you.

Both of them, well, Ellie had offered to help you with some math things you were having issues with. Abby decided to join 'I don't trust you two alone'

After that day, their need for you became a constant, unwavering presence. If they had been touch-deprived before, yearning for your glance, your kiss, any sign of affection, it only intensified afterward.

They craved your proximity, your touch, your attention, and it was undeniably tempting.

You agreed with both to let it as a sort of open relationship, a friends with benefits arrangement.

Mostly because you knew it would never work if the three of you stood together.

Not with Abby's aspirations and determination to study something to make her dad proud. Ellie, being deeply invested in her studies, aiming for success- hungry. And you who could only wait for that lucky signal, that defining moment to steer you toward your life's purpose—anything to keep you occupied.

Abby constantly showered you with affection and care, feeling a physical need to spoil both of you. She would often send videos or pictures of her sweaty abdomen post-gym session, accompanied by messages asking if either of you needed anything. "Have you eaten yet?"

On the other hand Ellie kept sexting whenever she had the chance, sending you both nudes with the excuse she needed an opinion before sending them to a girl she'd just met. Which wasn't completely fake- it just happened way too often to not be on purpose.

So, why not give it a chance. If it worked, great. If not, well, you'd find a way to make it function as long as you needed it.

> CHAPTER ONE

- taglist: @softlysunrays @eyesfullofsttars <33 | @cowboylu @ennabear @satellitespinner @flowrmoth

[stickyspeckledlight]

“…..allow me to ask, how the fuck did you both manage to break into my house, yet alone find a way to come to my world, Jade and Floyd Leech?”

But, where else can we find a thing so interesting?

Note: I can’t decide if I should use shrimps or koebi-chan so….idk comment on which one I should use for future Floyd stuff lol. Also first time writing any yan twst! Let’s hope I get it right lmao

(Speckled's End of Year Interaction Prompts, 12/2/24 ~ 1/1/25)

“Oya,” Jade exclaimed, “What strong language, [Name]-san. And after all the struggle we went through to see you again?” He simpered, sorrow every bit as faked as his surprise, “I’m deeply hurt.”

Unlike Jade, Floyd didn’t bother with theatrics. “Aha! Koeeeeebi-chan!” Floyd cried out, laughing with pure merriment, lunging toward your person. You shriek, dodging his initial lunge, but Floyd is unfairly reflexive and fast. Before you can so much as sprint, your limbs are already being squeezed in his hold. You gasp breathlessly, struggling to even breathe with how tightly he’s holding you. The sloppy, messy kiss Floyd gives you immediately doesn’t help matters either; it’s all spit and possessiveness, tongue practically going down your throat and teeth sinking into your lips.

From where you struggle and choke, Floyd only squeals with even more delight. “Squeeeeezeeeeeee~ Koebi-chan’s soooo soft,” he laughs, rubbing his cheek against your head, all crushing softness and joy, “I missed having you around, y’know. Leaving me with all those boring guppies—” and his voice drops, and his head dips into your neck, “—I probably should kill you for doing that to me,” he mutters, sharp teeth grazing your skin. At your tensing and shivering, he only breaks into more laughter, mood swinging back into perverted joy.

“Floyd, be careful with the dear,” Jade lightly chastised, “The poor thing looks like they’ll faint at any moment now. It’d be a shame to end things as quickly as they started, no?” His words are far from kind, far from concerned, even. They are ever bit as pleasured as Floyd’s laughs, and serve only to remind him that there’s more fun to be had from this.

Floyd doesn’t immediately let you go, but his hold lightens enough to where you can breathe steadily enough. “You feelin’ better?” Floyd sweetly asks, like he wasn’t the one who put you in this state in the first place.

You attempt to free yourself, but even in Floyd’s loose(r) hold, there is no escape. Floyd doesn’t even seem to struggle at all, yawning even as your flails grow more desperate. Floyd looks at your wall and zones out, his interest in you momentarily waned. Jade lightly chuckles at your plight.

You growl in frustration, “At least answer my questions!” You seethe, glaring at them both and baring your teeth, “I thought we were done. I thought I would be rid of you! So why are you here to torment me again?!”

You had met Jade and Floyd after exams, when Azul’s plans to take Ramshackle for himself were underway. After his overblot, you thought you were free of the twins torment of you, but they only kept pursuing you—without any directive from Azul whatsoever. It made every moment from the on in Twisted Wonderland unbearable, and when Crowley found a way for you to come back home, you took it at that instant. Sure, it was a bit cold to leave behind everyone without any goodbye, but who could blame you? Fault you? It wasn’t like everyone else there wasn’t selfish either, all in their own ways.

Even when you weren’t in Twisted Wonderland though, the twins haunted your dreams. They fed into your paranoia, your refusal to make friends, to love and kiss and be a silly student—it took you years to rip yourself from their influence, but you did it. You built a life for yourself with your own hands, and even Jade and Floyd Leech could stop you.

Until now, that is.

In classic Jade fashion, he finds an avenue to easily avoid giving answers. You might never get those answers, at this rate. “Torment? You must be mistaken,” Jade tsks, “As I recall, we gave you only the best; as ‘lovers’ do, I might add.”

Indignity flares in your chest. “Bullshit! You threatened me and my friends! Isolated and stalked me!”

“Hah?” You violently gasp, having the air knocked out of you. Your eyes bludge; your tongue lolls; your ribcage compresses like it’s cheap plastic beneath Floyd’s arms. “Those anemones were better company than us?” Floyd darkly mumbles, before laughing again, “Then again, you left us before, so you’re pretty stupid. Your opinions and stuff can’t really be trusted anymore.”

As if he ever cared before.

Jade doesn’t chide his brother this time. He lets out an appreciative hum as you truly choke. A gloved finger delicately rests on your cheek bone, before more are added to cup your cheek. As your vision spots with black, you are only caressed. As your eyes beg for mercy, mercy that anyone dying would beg for, only a chaste peck is given to your bloody lips. As tears of pure fear for the life before you and the sheer despair of losing everything again stream from your eyes, only laughter, one gently cruel and the other excitably sadistic.

“It would be an issue if you found out how we arrived here,” Jade finally answered, playing with a strand of your hair. “As Floyd so graciously pointed out, your decision making process cannot be trusted at this time.”

As if they ever would.

“Worry not, [Name]-san,” Jade grins wider. It’s not a nice smile; his teeth peak from it, and that’s always been a sign that he’s ready to take a bite from you. A sign that, as you quickly predicted, has him dipping his face against your juglar. “You’ll want for nothing in our care. Even this ‘freedom,’ you so cherish…”

He darkly chuckles.

“We’ll make it so it won’t be something they want for much longer, right Floyd?”

Laughter consumes your world before you completely succumb to the pressure, fated to wake in captivity for the rest of your life.

[amorchai]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): tasm!peter parker x reader

words: 926

warnings/tags: established relationship, r is implied to have a period – however, not ultimately gender specific.

it had been early evening, the sun setting across the horizon of new york, a faded orange hue emitting in the small apartment window of your kitchen as you stand by the stove. you’re scrolling through your phone, trying to relocate the recipe with your ingredients waiting by the countertop.

however, from the moment you pour water into the large pot atop the heating hob, you jump at the sound of a tapping window. turning your head, you’re met with the masked face of spider-man, a dorky wave sent your way.

leaving your things to the side, you wipe your hands across your apron before walking towards the tiny window to push open, allowing peter to stumble into the room. “hey, baby,” his adorable voice starting as he tugs the backpack from his shoulders to place on the wobbly kitchen table which tilts upon impact, “still need to fix that,” peter notes to himself while pulling his mask off.

his spikey hair flops in front of his eyes as he discards the mask to the side, facing you with open arms who smiles at him warmly with the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. peter places a kiss on your head as you melt into his chest.

“thought i’d find you in here at this time.”

“you know me too well,” you reply, mumbled against peter’s chest. he smirks, hands trailing up and down your arms softly while looking over your head to the array of ingredients, “what’s for dinner tonight?”.

pulling away from him, you walk towards the kitchen counter and back to the food ready to cook, allowing peter to follow you like a lost-puppy, arms swivelling so he can cuddle you from behind.

“noodles with veg, going to make some curry sauce,” peter hums approvingly, against your head. “that time of the month?” asks peter, knowing they’re two of your comfort foods merged together.

“yeah.”

“well, perfect timing, because in that case…” peter trails off, arms dropping from your side and allowing you to start cutting some spring onion, curiously listening for him to continue.

usually on days like this, he would stop by your apartment before going on patrol, leaving a bag of fresh clothes to change into when he would return to your side for night-time cuddles. however, tonight he has a thicker bag containing more things.

“what’s that, pete?” you ask curiously when the shuffling from behind stops, you turn your head to catch a glimpse of his face. he holds up three books under his chin with his eyes squished into an innocent, happy smile to show off.

“got you these,” his voice a murmur as his gloved hands moves the books into a tower while returning to your side to show you. cheesy romantic stories, laced with fake dating tropes or colleagues to lovers because it became a tradition to both read the same cliché books and talk about the scenarios afterwards.

you knew while he got you these, it was partly because he loves those categories himself and knew it would be up for grabs once you’re done. plus, you had little space left around the house for your endless books, mainly bought with or by peter himself, feeding the addiction.

but ever since dating you, finding your love in books appeasing and was able to take the time he lost when becoming spider-man to start reading again. your favourite date with your spider-boy being reading days in the café or under a tree during a warm summer’s day.

“thank you but you know more than anyone that i don’t need more books, pete,” you giggle and glance up at his proud and giddy expression as he dismisses your comment to show you the cover to the second book. “this cover reminded me of you, i really liked the purple background and illustrated flowers, plus this is also fake dating!”

you watch the way peter gushes, unable to look at the covers as you mainly focus on his reaction to his gestures so sweet but he considers casual. “are they all fake dating?” you ask with a grin, peter checking the third book before meeting her eyes, flitting between each one with his dorky smile matching yours.

“yup,” a pop in the ‘p’ while he responds.

“do you sometimes wish that you fake dated me first before we fell in love?” you ask in a teasing tone, watching as peter leans closer, nudging your nose as he shakes his head lovingly. “you didn’t give me time to, by the time you spilled the coffee on me i was already head over heels,” you scrunch your eyes at his response before he continued, “which is the cliché romantic meeting i’m more than happy to claim, we’re our own romance book, baby.”

with a kiss upon your lips, peter begrudgingly moves away with a displeasing groan while placing the books beside his bag, “gotta go on patrol, i’ll be back later, ‘k?”. you nod with a smile, turning back to the counter but watching peter as he moves to the open window, mask in hand.

“i’ll leave you some food in the fridge.” you comment as he slides the mask back over his face, leaning out the window but willing to respond normally, “thank you, baby. i better come back to you asleep with one of your new books.”

“you bet. be safe, spidey.” you reply, watching as he gives you a thumbs up before shooting a web at the building across, shouting while he jumps, “love you, baby!”

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[cupidscrule]

sooo if u could do bullysatosugu x fem!reader u would do me a biiiiiiggg favorrr and thak youuu

PUPPY BABY !

BULLY!Satosugu× afab!reader (no prns r used)

WARNINGS - light bondage, mean Satoru and suguru, slight non con? Reader doesn't explicitly consent but it's Implied, au where suguru isn't a cult leader, p in v, forced blow job, marking, reader gags on their panties

1.2 k wrds

You were their victim, all throughout highschool and now as a teacher. Still their victim, even though you three had grown up that didn't stop them, Satoru. Suguru.

Fucken assholes, calling you names, making fun of how you look, talked, anuthin' they could.

It was miserable, you couldn't do anything against them either way so it was pointless, the only reasonable person in your life was Shoko

"I swear I'm gonna kill them." You mutter to her dramatically falling back onto her bed, "I know they're annoying " she replies glam in over at you, she was the only person you could TALK to. At least she was always there as a buffer between you and the bastards, always let you rant and scream with her.

They never fucked around with Shoko though, no idea why they won't respect you but they will her.

"I'm so tireddd" you groan leaning back in the empty classroom, your students were currently out on a mission, probobly not dead. Shoko was off doing god knows what and, well there was Gojo and Geto. Honestly it was a pretty good day, they weren't around you; they were doing their own thing. Meaning you get peace and quiet. Which is rare.

"Hey y/n! What's up" the way too familiar voice echos, sound of the creaking door opening. Standing in the doorway the men.

"The hell do you want" you murmmer looking over at them, eyes halflided looking both grosed out and annoyed. Typical reaction to seeing those dicks.

"You looked lonely, thought we'd stop by" suguru said causally, shrugging his shoulders.

"Whatever bullshit your up to, I don't care" you say plainly, to your dismay they don't leave though. Coming up closer to you, Satoru talking about random shit, suguru just looking over at you. You were leaning on one of the old desks, too tired to be bothered to get rid of the pests

Satoru coming up beside you pulling on your hair harshly, slightly whimper comes from your lips

"Oh fuck sugu~ hear that" the white haired one says smirking like a cunt

Pulling away from him, standing a few feet away from them. "Fucken' whore" he whispers small laugh coming from him

" 'toru aren't you being a bit mean to the poor thing?" Geto hums, hands in his pockets. Eyes lingering on the display infront of him

"Nah shes not crying it's fine!! Sugu don't be such a downer " Satoru says fake frown on his dumb little face. Looking back over at you his hand going to grab your face, only to be stopped by you slapping it away

"Don't touch me." You say short, teeth gritting

"Bitch oh you're gonna regret that" he glaring at you, roughly grabbing onto your shoulders pushing you firmly against the wall, his grip tight, nails digging into your soft skin though the fabric of your uniform

Before briefly releasing you, shoving you down. Honestly you're kinda shocked, shocked that he thinks he can just get away with this. But of course it doesn't even MATTTER suguru's standing beside the cunt. They both have a devilsh look on their eyes which made you shudder, brows furrowed at them

"Yknow I've- fuck always been more a dog person"

Fucking humiliation is all you felt, they had you on your knees. Hands held behind your back, gagging on Satoru, even worse was your soaked panties, the fact you were getting off on this

Suguru sat on a chair behind you, holding your wrists firmly, while you were buried between satorus legs, his hand held on your hair gripping it and fucking your sore throat. Only sloppy moans came from you, tears in your eyes

"Shit you crying? What happened to tellin us to fuck off ?" Suguru laughs, using his free hand to rub the tears off your face.

"Mmf- don't even have a gag reflex you really are - fuck a slut huh?" Satoru says, forcing you to take his whole length, feeling his seed seep into your throat.

He pulls out, still semi hard dick in his hand "swallow." He said, watching you, a teary pretty little mess choke it down, face all red.

"Better listen hunny" suguru mutters patting the side of your cheek, you would almost think it was endearing if it wasn't for your situation.

No matter how much you tried you just couldn't make a coherent sentence, just babbles of cuss words.

"F-fuck y- you-"'

"Use your words" suguru says again in that sickly sweet tone

Satoru still up in front of you, looking down at you as if you're a bug.

"I h- hiccup hate- you. " Only words to come out of your mouth, wasn't really what they wanted to hear but it was something !

Suguru letting go of your wrists , releasing you, thighs were pressed together , dribbles of cum coming down from your chin with still teary eyes, awe it made satorus heart melt. For a moment he almost wanted to take away all the pain you were in, but then you wouldn't be crying so what's the fun in that?

"I'll take care of you hm? Alright hunny?" Suguru says, picking you up, bending your down, stomach down and ass up on the cold desk you were sitting on, you still had all your clothes on. Well despite your shirt being ever so slightly unbuttoned. Suguru with ease pulled down your sweats, your white lacey panties soaked, small giggle comes from Satoru after seein' that

"I was just jokin' damn, slutty one aren't ya?"

Suguru gently pulling them off, handing them to Satoru who proceeds to jam them in your mouth, making you taste your own filth, hearing suguru unbutton his pants, running his dick on your slit making muffled moans escape from you

Bullying his dick into your right hole, soft groans is all that's heard in the room, suguru has your legs resting on his hips while he digs into you.

Hands digging into your ass, earning small whines from you

His pace wasn't as bad at Satorus, still sore though. Till eventual you can feel him slowdown chasing his high, pulling close into you and cumming inside, hands still gripped onto your ass making small red marks.

"Cries too much" Satoru says pushing you over onto suguru

"Satoru, be nice they've been through enough ~"

"Mfm-sore- hurt" you whine snuggling closer to them

Huh, maybe they aren't so bad.

PT 2 CHAT?1!!1

[temptaetions]

cinnamon sugar 🌙 k.sm (m)

a/n: the photo above is from seungmin's instagram. i don't own the media, but i sure was blessed to see it. anyway, i think this is my first post with like...actual smut in it. please forgive me, because it is so shitty, i'm so bad at writing it. anyway, uhm, enjoy! my anon ask is now on, if you'd like to send any requests in!

synopsis: her lips taste sweet, like cinnamon sugar...she's such a treat.

genre: best friends to lovers | idiots in love | x fem!reader | smut | fluff | angst

pairing(s): best friend!kim seungmin x virgin!reader

word count: 6k. lowercase intended.

rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

warning(s): swearing, mutual pining, a lot of emotional turmoil from both parties, horribly written smut [between k.sm x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, soft d/s themes, (slight) overuse of pet names (angel, sweetheart) oral (f. receiving), paragraphs of praise, so much kissing, some grinding, the lightest amount of nipple play. riding/missionary, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, they stare into each others eyes and hold hands while fucking oh my god]. this is slightly self indulgent but the guilt i feel after writing it, and so badly at that, is overwhelming.

what to listen to: gaze - sweetback | eat it - megan thee stallion | agora hills - doja cat | real love - mary j. blige | whatta man - salt-n-pepa & en vogue

message from: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:32pm] i’m coming to pick u up, i want a cinnabon.

message to: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:33pm] ur paying 🤑

"can i get aux?" you say as you slide into seungmin's car. the leather of the passenger seat was cool to the touch, a sign that nobody had sat in your self-assigned seat. "hello to you too, best friend. how was my day? oh, it was lovely! it's so nice to see you, too!" "oh, shut up, min. you don't give a shit if i ask those questions or not." you chuckle, snatching his aux cable out of the center console. "you know me so well, fuck. i hate small talk. just merge souls with me." you and seungmin had been best friends for over ten years. he knew you inside and out - from your scalp to the bottom of your feet (including the scar from his razor scooter slamming into your ankle at age sixteen.)

you shared a lot of interests, but none as intense as your love of music and cinnamon rolls. he was always at your dance recitals. your biggest fan, really. he cheered, but never showed you more praise than necessary.

"i need you to stay humble, it helps me tolerate you." he murmured into your hair after one recital last year. you just shook your head in amusement, holding it high as you let him march you to his car for dinner.

"oh, i updated our playlist! i have a few new things on here." you said excitedly as you scrolled through the playlists on your homepage. you shared this love language – you had dozens of collaborative playlists with user ksm922, and you giggled at the ugly photos of the two of you he often used for the covers.

"sure." he shrugs, using his pinky to turn the volume dial up. your eyes trail on his slender fingers as they return to the wheel, but you shake it off just as quickly. pressing play, you let the smooth r&b sounds fill the car.

"oh, this is nice. what is this?" seungmin nods his head along to it, and you glance at the screen. "gaze by sweetback. it played on my sade station, and the vibes are just so kim seungmin, yanno?" you close your eyes and fake being a disc-jockey, his hand coming to pinch your arm lightly, a chuckle playing on his lips. "stop that, you'd be a horrible deejay."

"are you sure this isn't about sex? geez, bub, act like you get some." he teases, and you swat his arm. "i do get some!" "oh yeah? from who?" his eyes are trained on the road as he bullies you about your sex life (or lack thereof), allowing you a moment to stare at his ringed fingers. oh, the way they gripped the wheel, they could so easily grip your neck–

shut up, y/n.

"your mom." you huff, crossing your arms with a pout. you hated this conversation, and you often avoided it with him. yes, seungmin was your best friend, but you never wanted to talk about your sex life with him. he had experiences…and you heard from so many people how good it was.

with him, to be specific.

"what are we, thirteen? you wish my mother would breathe in your direction, you fucking virgin." he scoffs, and you force a snicker out. you glance at your phone, a smirk threatening to escape as it started. "oh, this one is good. turn it up!" he obliged, not even giving the screen a second look.

you settle in your seat as megan thee stallion's voice blares through the speakers, muffling a soft laugh behind your hand. seungmin hated the idea of you being a sexual being, and you often used it to bother him. you liked seeing him get red in the face, and squirm. it doesn't mean you understood it, but it was hilarious.

legs shakin', hit it 'til the bed breaking…bed springing, talk to it…

seungmin's mouth is agape, his cheeks firetruck red…

i don't want just one nut, daddy, i need the whole tree, ah…

…before his nimble fingers press skip. 

"are you serious, y/n? in my christian minecraft server?" his eyes are still fixed on the road, his knuckles turning white from his hold on the steering wheel. weird.

"it's megan! i love her, she's the hot girl coach. you don't want me to be a virgin forever, do you?" you joke, and he scrunches his nose. "since when do you listen to music about getting your…ugh, whatever. don't ever bring up sex appeal, you repulse me." you laugh loudly, your hand going to pinch his cheek softly. "you're so cute when you get flustered, min. here, i'll play pretty boy by the neighbourhood in your honor."

he can't stop thinking about it. it's been four hours since you played the song in the car, and it's still stuck in his head. well, what he did hear.

you, inherently, did not come across as a sexual being. you didn't, and that wasn't seungmin being just a platonic, nice friend – you genuinely did not care to be the core of anyone's sexual desire. you wore oversized shirts and loose jeans, the occasional dress paired with black pantyhose and boots. "gotta hide my ankles, minnie. that's how they getcha." but thinking about you…listening to that song? your hips winding down on some other man like he's seen you do on stage? hell, some other man's face when he's right here?

it made him sick.

and you were so beautifully unaware as you swirled your fork in your cinnamon roll, bringing the tines to your lips and sucking the icing clean off them. not a second lick or adjustment, just straight off. he felt his cheeks heat as his cock twitched in his pants, and he almost missed you waving your fingers in his face. "yo, you good? you seem distracted." you have a bit of icing on your lip, and he subconsciously reaches over to wipe it off. your eyes are wide as he does so, and he doesn't know why he can't move his thumb from your lip. he doesn't know why everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and he just watches as you instinctively suck your lip between your teeth at the loss of contact.

you're so pretty, fuck, you're so pretty.

"i'm good. do you want to go?" he's surprised to hear his own voice, and you nod absently. he was acting weird, he knew he was, but he feels like there's a fog in his brain that he can't shake. maybe it was the way he'd memorized every curve of your body, from watching your fluid dances. maybe it was the way that you smiled so innocently, you were so innocent. your eyes big and pure, your heart full, your mind…naïve.

he didn't understand the sudden urge to ruin you, but he knew he had to get over it, and fast.

"fuck." he groans, and your head whips around to look at him. "you okay?"

he nods quickly, his hand landing on the small of your back to guide you to the car faster. "min, if you have to shit, you can just say that." "ugh, shut up. you always say the most unhinged shit. no wonder you can't get laid." he rolls his eyes, and you just laugh. "trust me, it's not for lack of opportunity." you let him open the door for you, and you wink at him playfully, his fingers flicking your forehead before shutting the door. it was true, multiple of your friends had offered to…deflower you. hyunjin, on your dance team. minho, on your production team. felix, your choreographer. even their friends in the music department had offered, and you simply smiled, shaking your head at them. "i just like to flirt, your dick is your problem."

but much like seungmin, they had all seen the way you moved. how easily you sunk to your knees, how smooth your gyrations were, the way you looked like you enjoyed it. you felt good knowing people were attracted to you, but it never compared to what you believed was seungmin's innocent gaze.

it was weird to want more from him, and it pained you, slightly. he was cute, your best friend. cute, experienced, and he knew you. he knew you so well, what could go wrong? he could reject you, that's what.

you're in your own head when you realize the car has been moving, and rather fast, at that. "min, seriously. are you shitting your pants?" you roll your eyes, and he brings the car to a screeching halt. "bro, your brakes." you cringe, covering your ears as he pulls into his driveway.

"are you going to kill me? no way, jisung always said i'd go out this way. please, tell my mother i love her and make sure i get the best spot in heaven." you feign terror as you unbuckle your seatbelt, not noticing the way seungmin can't even look at you. you feel how hard he slams his door, and you give his car a pitiful look as you slide out, following him to his apartment. he lived on the first floor, what a privilege.

he doesn't look at you as he walks into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the kitchen table. "y/n, i have a question."

"oh? mr. attitude has a question, does he?" you smile sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest, the cowhide leather of the letterman you stole from him in high school rough against your skin. "alright, let's hear it." "why are you still a virgin?" okay, not what you were expecting. don't let it fluster you. you don't really notice his hardened expression as you try to answer. "well…it's just not on my list of priorities. i'll get fucked when i get fucked, you know?"

you shrug, not thinking much of your answer as he steps closer. "hm, i don't buy it."

raising an eyebrow, you shake your head, unbuttoning the jacket. "you're acting so weird, seungmin. if you wanna fuck me, just say that."

you sound surprisingly confident, and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you slide the jacket off, draping it over the couch. you gather your hair forward, spinning to speak to him again. "did you still want to watch the mov-" you're cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. you can't move, your hands frozen as he works you carefully, lips burning against your own. his movements feel desperate, and you let your body take over as you kiss him back, a soft sigh escaping his lips as your tongue slips between them. the kiss is hungry, his hands are digging into you so deeply you're sure you'll bruise. 

he stops. his fingers let go of your hips, and he pulls away, your lips chasing after his as he does. your lip gloss is glittering on his face, before he covers his eyes. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i have no idea what came over me, i…i'm sorry, please, let me take you home."

you can't speak, your mind still swirling with endorphins. your best friend of ten years just made the biggest move on you, and without a word, you managed to fumble it. no way. absolutely not.

"sorry for what? i'm not understanding." you suddenly feel very vulnerable, your skin littering with goosebumps at the sudden change in the air. "i'm perfectly fine with…whatever you were doing."

seungmin peers back at you through dark eyes. "no, y/n. we can't." he swipes his keys off the table, and you huff. "and why can't we, seungmin? what is so bad about kissing me?" his eyes are wide as you ramble, and it's all word vomit. you can't seem to stop it, but he's drinking every word.

"what is it? am i a bad kisser? is it because i'm a virgin? i don't think it's very fair that you can openly admit to being other girls' firsts but you can't even do that for me. you haven't even offered. i'm not saying you fucking have to, because you're my best friend and you always will be. but holy fuck, seungmin, i'm trying to get some. you said i should, so why not be the one i get it from?" 

you're out of breath, and seungmin just shakes his head as he takes one, two steps back in front of you. "you think i don't want to be your first? you think i don't want you all to myself, to ruin you for anyone else? you think i don't want to fuck you stupid, until all you know is my name? are you hearing yourself right now?"

"you're certainly not acting like it. it doesn't have to mean shit, seungmin. it's just sex." you roll your eyes, leaning on the couch. "it's not just sex, y/n. this is a huge step for you, for us. our friendship is on the line, and i don't want to do something you might regret later." you shake your head, and he hates when you get stubborn like this, you won't listen to reason. "still not seeing the issue here. i lose my virginity and gain some experience for the next guy, you get your dick wet. we go to bed, and we act like it didn't happen in the morning. you take me home, we listen to our playlists on the way there, and we go about our days."

he flings his keys onto the floor, his hands reaching to hold your face. he tucks a few strands behind your ears, fingers lovingly caressing your pierced lobes before he looks you dead in the eyes. "y/n, if i give you what you want tonight, there is no chance in hell you're going to fuck someone else."

you stare back at him silently, your eyes darting to his lips before your tongue peeks out to wet your own. it's not the worst thing in the world, being with seungmin. it could be good…and not just the sex. he knows you, you know him…his lips felt like they were made for you. they always had, since your drunken kiss on christmas eve.

"you say that like it's a threat." you challenge, and he bites back a smile, nodding his head. his hand has traveled to your hip, his other still holding your face when his nose touches yours, his breath hitting your lips. "if you want me to stop at any point, just let me know. understand, sweetheart?"

you nod, leaning forward to connect your lips. he pulls back, shaking his head. "i need to hear you say you understand."

"jeez, seungmin, i understand. i get it, can we please move this along?" you're not the least bit embarrassed as you whine against him, and he lets you kiss him. your lips are eager, your hands carding through his hair as he licks into your mouth. the kiss is all teeth and tongue, a soft moan interrupting it as he gives your clothed breast a gentle squeeze, his thumb working over your pebbled nipple. "min, i…" "what, tell me what you want, sweetheart." his lips trail down your jaw, nipping along your exposed neck carefully. your whines are like heaven to him, "n-need you.." "aw, you need me? need me where?" he's loving this, the way you squirm under his lips, under his nimble fingers. you push your chest into him involuntarily, "h-here. please?"

you grab his wrist, a wave of confidence taking over as you guide his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers are cool against your clothed heat, a soft wet patch forming on the fabric. his eyes are wide as he instinctively lets his hand run over the spot, watching as you flinch, lip caught between your teeth. he presses hard against you, a gasp falling from your mouth. "i haven't even touched you, and look at how wet you are for me. a little pathetic, hm?" "'m’ yours, minnie. always, always been yours." you don’t mean that, he thinks. he's letting you grind against his hand, his gaze transfixed on your face. your brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut as you used his hand to get yourself to the edge. his cock twitches at the little pants falling from your lips, when he decides he's had enough. you nearly cry at the loss of contact, his hand escaping the confines of your plush thighs. "minnie-" "if you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my face. let's go, sweetheart." he tugs you towards his bedroom, your legs weak as you try not to stumble behind him. "bed. on your back."

he's pulling his sweater over his head, and you nearly coo at his messy hair in your fucked out state. he feels a flush coat his cheeks as you lay there, waiting for him to tug your pants off. hooking his fingers in your waistband, you lift your hips to make it easier, and he slides your underwear and sweatpants off in one go. you suddenly feel shy, closing your legs. 

"ah, ah. it's just me, sweetheart. do you want to stop?" his hands move to your knees, the cool metal of his rings sending a soft shock to your spine. "no, i'm…okay. i'm just nervous." "it's okay, angel. i got you, don't worry." he presses a kiss to your forehead, nose…lips. he lingers there a bit, but doesn't let it deepen as he runs his hands down your legs. his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them apart for him to settle between. you're soaking, the heat of his stare making anxiety bubble in your stomach. "fuck, you're going to be the death of me." his lips press soft, chaste kisses along your inner thigh, nipping carefully as you mewl. "minnie, please..i..please…" you end in a whimper, and who is he to deny you when you beg so nicely? he buries his nose in your pussy, bumping your clit as he lets his tongue drag through your folds, collecting your sweet, sweet arousal on his face. your hand flies to his hair as his lips suck on your clit, thighs threatening to close around his head. he doesn't care, he'd die a happy man right there between your legs.

"f-fuck, seungmin, ah! right there, holy f-fuh.." you're shaking around his head, bucking your hips into his face as gently as you can muster. he loves it, but he can't tell you that as he drowns in the scent of you, the obscene sounds of his tongue against you paired with your pretty whimpers ensuring he'd probably cum in his pants. "oh, b-baby i'm gonna.."

his hand reaches for yours, interlacing your trembling fingers with his, his other hand massaging your thigh in encouragement. he can barely bring himself to talk, a soft moan of his against your clit sending you over the edge, a soft cry of his name echoing in the room. "that's it, good job angel. you did so well for me, hm?" he's still lapping at you, not wanting to miss a single shiver or whimper from your body. "s'always that good? min?" he peers up at you from his spot between your legs, your lips parted as you blink, a tear rolling down the side of your face. he moves up to wipe it away, but you take his hand in yours, kissing his palm softly. "you okay? we can stop." he presses his forehead against yours, not able to process your cute gesture without wanting to bawl. you nod, a lazy smile crossing your lips as you reach to kiss him. "m'all good, minnie. do you…want me to help you?"

you can feel his clothed cock pressing against your leg, practically begging to be set free, and you teasingly buck up against it. he inhales sharply, shaking his head, "i want tonight to be about you. i want to make sure you feel good, okay? are you sure you want to continue?" "yeah, m'all yours." you sigh against his lips, a chaste kiss from you to him. "can i take this off, sweetheart?" he yanks lightly on your shirt, and you nod. you help him tug it over your head, your fingers reaching backwards to unclasp your bra. he feels like all the air is sucked out of the room as you lay beneath him, for him, in all your glory. every curve he's imagined just as gorgeous. "you're staring, it's making me shy." your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "no, no, fuck, you're gorgeous. look at you, oh my god, i.." he trails off, his hands resting on your tummy. "you just went down on me, and you're short-circuiting over my tits, kim?" your teasing is not helping his brain, but the attitude brings him back to reality. "you know that's not all it is, stop it." he rolls his eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. it's soothing, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. he dips his head between your breasts, trailing open mouthed kisses all over your chest and stomach. "you're so beautiful. i'm literally the luckiest person in the entire universe." he's mumbling to himself mostly, but you feel soft tears prick at your eyes. his lips latch around one of your nipples, a gasp from you making him pull off with a pop. "can i…are you sure you want this, y/n? i really, really don't want you to regret this."

you grab his face in your hands, your thumbs lightly padding over his cheeks. "i want you, entirely. in this life, in the next life. okay? i got you, don't worry." you echo his words back to him, and he bites his lip, a hint of something in his eyes as he pulls back to unbuckle his pants. kicking them off quickly, you wait until he straightens to take a peek. 

the rumors were true. he's thick, his tip a soft mauve. your mouth is watering at the sight, when a snap of his fingers catches your attention. "eyes up here, sweetheart. i want you to look at me, can you do that?"

you nod, a shy smile on your lips as he goes to spread your knees again. "no, wait, minnie…" he feels his heart skip a beat at your voice, eyes flickering to yours in concern. "i…can i be on top? i read that…it can be better that way." you swallow thickly, and he feels the tips of ears burn but a smile grazes his features. "you studied for sex?"

any awkwardness is gone. you scoff, a light smack landing on his arm. "forgive me for wanting to be in control."

"you want to be in control? okay. fine, but you won't last long." he shrugs, sliding onto the bed behind you, eyes taking in the curve of your ass before you turn. "lay back, asswipe." "watch the attitude, or i'm shutting this shit down." he says, eyes serious as you feel your cheeks heat. you watch as he gets comfortable on his pillows, and you crawl over to him, your hands brushing against his sides as you straddle him. "we can go as slow as you want, okay?" his words are reassuring as his hands reach for your thighs, and you nod.

you take a deep breath, lightly letting your cunt drag along his length, his tip bumping your clit. you shiver, a buzz going up your legs as he takes your hips in his hands, manually guiding you over his cock. "did you read about this too?"

"shut up." you roll your eyes, his hands holding you in place. he looks…so convincing like this. like everything will go back to normal after this, like everything will be the same. he'll still be your best friend, and you'll still be desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with him. it's overwhelming, and you just bite your lip, shaking your head. "you're staring." "your dick is twitching, but i'm not saying shit." scoffing, you take him in your hand gently, lining him up with your aching center. you sink down slowly, the tip barely swiping your entrance when you grimace, a hiss escaping your lips as you screw your eyes shut. "i know, angel. here, let me help you." seungmin pulls you closer, his back against his headboard, careful not to pull out. you watch as his hand snakes between the two of you, his thumb softly circling your clit, your eyes threatening to close. "eyes open." you oblige, feeling a gush of arousal at his command, and you have no room to feel embarrassed when he begins to shallowly fuck into you, matching the pace of his thumb. your eyes are glossy as you move your hands to hold onto the headboard, your chest flush to his face. he kisses your shoulder, your soft whimpers music to his ears. 

"deeper? or stay like this?" he asks, voice shaking slightly, the warmth of your pussy almost staggering. it's humiliating how worked up you have him, but you need to stay humble. it helps him tolerate you. "d-deeper, is okay."

his arms wrap around your waist tightly, slowly pulling you down further, a whine escaping your throat as your hands move to his shoulders, your eyes meeting his. he's trying not to cum from the way your pretty cunt swallowed him so perfectly, taking him so well. made for him, just him. "m'so full, minnie." you clench around him, and it takes all his willpower not to finish. he's not far, he's practically seeing stars…but the way you're looking at him, you're so pretty, so ready to cry over his cock. he needs to drag this out as long as he can.

"y-you can move, if you want. p-please, want to feel you." you're pleading, he knows. he swallows, confidence wavering as he nods, slowly thrusting up into you, the squelch immediately catching his attention, eyes tearing from yours. he watches the way you take him, your body begging to be ruined by him. he moves a little faster, your mind beginning to blur as he falls into a rhythm. 

your nails are digging into his shoulders, your lip caught between your teeth as his hips rock against yours. his eyes flicker back to your face, and you manage a quick wink. he feels his cheeks burn beet red as he looks away. he feels like such a fucking virgin, when he is the one that's your first, not the other way around. pretty girl on his lap and he can't even look at you.

he wishes you had been his first, too, and he wishes you would have asked him sooner. you're so smart, you're so gorgeous, your lips taste like cinnamon sugar. fuck, he loves you. you're his best friend, you feel so good around him and you know him so well. he loves you, so fucking much.

his hips come to a slow, your moan drawing out as he drags his cock against your walls at an agonizing pace. "'still want to be in control, angel?" his lips press to your clavicle, and you nod against his neck. "will you tell me if it's good?"

he pulls you back, hand coming up to caress your face. "how could it not be, when it's you?"

you don't say a word, allowing his lips to meet yours in a chaste kiss. he slumps a bit, and you maneuver so his back is almost flat on the bed, and you try not to moan as the movement makes his cock hit you just right. "whenever you're ready, just use me how you want to." you feel a flutter in your stomach, giving an experimental roll of your hips, your hands flat on his side. raising your hips, your thighs tremble as you start a rhythm, bouncing on him carefully. he's watching you, the way you move so fluidly, like you're dancing. like you're enjoying him, using him, making his brain feel useless. he can't speak, just drinking in this picture of you he's never going to get to see again after tonight, taking in your throaty moans.

"m-minnie?" your eyes are low, your hands moving to his chest, pushing your breasts together. fuck, you are art. "y-yeah?" 

he can't even focus as you whimper, clamping around him like a vice, moving slightly faster. "m'close, i can't..i.." you're still looking at him, and he can't. he can't take it, using his strength to flip you on your back. he interlaces your fingers, pinning your hands above you as he roughly fucks into you, sharp cries falling from your lips.

his head dips, lips dragging along your jaw as he whispers in your ear. "this is where you belong. under me, begging for me. got it?"

you feel chills cover your body as you nod, "y-yes, god, yes." "good girl." he's so unsure of himself, he's so afraid he'll scare off your high but he needs to know. "did you mean what you said earlier?" he's speaking through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the gloss in your eyes.

"hmm?" your brows furrow, your bitten lips slightly agape as his thrusts become sloppy, and he just shakes his head, opting to kiss you instead. hoping it'll help the knot in his stomach go away, hoping it will help you forget he asked. you can't help but pant into his mouth, feeling him smile against your lips. "you can let go, sweetheart. you did so well for me, yeah? i got you." you don't register how tightly you squeeze his fingers, or how deeply you're kissing him as you feel the white hot sensation rip through you. he's drunk off you, and you can feel him spurting inside you, his cum trickling out of you as his thrusts come to a slow, slow, stop.

but he doesn't, his lips don't. he can't stop kissing you, he doesn't want to talk. he doesn't want to tell you how you made him feel, how he can never see you the same again. he doesn't want to watch you walk out of his apartment tonight and possibly never be able to talk you again. he doesn't want to ever, ever hear about you doing this with some other guy, but he made his bed. 

your thighs are trembling around him, and you tug your fingers out of his grasp, pulling as far away from his mouth as you physically can. he pouts, chasing after them, only stopping when your eyes blink slowly at him.

"you alright?" his voice is soft, almost scared. you nod, swallowing thickly as you look away, tears forming in your eyes. "ah, talk to me, y/n. it's okay." "i meant it. what i said, earlier. i…don't know why i said it, i never planned on saying it. i'm sorry if it's going to make things awkward." you feel a tear escape, your hand quickly pawing it away. "awkward? with you? it’s not possible." he murmurs, and you glance at him, but he's staring at the pillows above your head.

"but you don't feel the same way." you say, almost as if you're trying not to hurt your feelings by letting your own words reject you, instead of him. he shifts, and you realize he's still inside you. he props himself up on his elbows, hands holding his head up as he peers at you. "you think i don't?"

"i know you don't." you laugh coldly, and he smiles. "yeah, miss sex expert? you know everything? did you read that, too?"

"ugh, stop. i'm never telling you anything again." you're becoming increasingly aware of your nudity, and seungmin can feel the hot flame of shame creeping up his back. he shakes his head, hating the way his blushing cheeks burn so bright. "i want you to tell me everything, forever. i love knowing you, i love trusting you. i'm glad you trusted me with this."

you can't look at him. his hand moves to make you look at him, fingers lightly squeezing your jaw. "and i meant what i said, too. you can't fuck anyone else. only i can see you like this, okay?"

his eyes are searching your face, watching you attempt to nod. "and…" he sighs, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "and i love you. i love your smile, and how you laugh when you play sex songs in the car. i love when we split cinnamon rolls, because you always try to take the bigger piece as if i won't just let you have it. i love when you say my name because it rolls so nicely off your tongue. i love how you move so effortlessly, and how you remember every little thing about anyone, ever. i love that you're funny, and you're so passionate. i love that you're so smart, far too smart to think that i wouldn't sell my soul to live an eternity by your side." his voice is trembling, and your eyes are wide and full of tears, full of adoration, of love for the stupid boy hovering above you.

"i love you, please. please say you're mine." his tears spill, and your lips part, a soft sob escaping as you pull him close, the cool metal of his necklace dragging against your damp skin. "i'm yours, always. i'm yours, i'm yours, i'm yours. i love you." you mumble against his lips, your tears mixing with his on your cheeks.

"thank fuck, i was about to end it all thinking about you doing that fucking trick on someone else." he mutters, and you snort as he buries his face. "that wasn't in the article, funnily enough. it just felt like the right thing to do. think if i pierced my clit, it'd feel better for you?" you ponder aloud, and he nips at your skin.

"don't even start, i haven't even pulled out." he groans, and you laugh loudly. "you're so pretty." he pouts, and rolls his eyes as they start filling with tears, your hand quickly wiping the ones that spilled. "is this going to happen every time? i kind of hate it."

"god, i hope so. i love seeing you like this for me." you tease, and he scrunches his nose. "shut up. stay humble, it's the only way i tolerate you." he nuzzles his nose back into your neck, and you let him stay there, carding your fingers through his hair.

"y/n?"

"yes, seungmin?" "i'm yours, you know that?"

"mmm, i do now. just mine?" "just yours. always." he nods as he pulls himself off you, placing a kiss on your temple, before brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. "someone has to fuck the attitude out of you, and i'm so glad it's gonna be me." you feel your skin heat at his words, and you smack him lightly. he gives a playful thrust, making you gasp before slowly pulling out. "you're off the hook for now, my angel. let's get you cleaned up." he doesn't stop kissing your face in the shower, or when he's shampooing your hair. he doesn't stop kissing your shoulders as he towels you dry, or your tummy when he works lotion into your skin. he can't keep his hands off you, even when you say you need to put clothes on. he can't get enough of the burn of your skin against his, and moves as fast as a human possibly can stripping the sheets off his bed and replacing them. 

he can't stop, and he won't stop kissing you, splitting cinnamon rolls with you, or singing sex songs in the car. he can't stop, and he won't stop, supporting you at your recitals and fucking you stupid as a reward. he can't stop, and he won't stop filling your cup until it's overflowing, making you laugh until you cry, and dragging moans of his name from your throat.

he can't stop, and he will never stop, loving you.

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