#Deciding what to do and how far to go and making it VERY clear that he won't allow his nephews stepping out of line
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i should probably talk more directly about the state of things so
i am not from the US. I have to pay very close attention to american politics, because those same politics are being exported out and diffused to the rest of the world at varying speeds, and it's part of knowing the enemy there.
first trump presidency i was a LOT more politically active than i am right now and kept abridge of everything. I was also someone who was warning my friends when he first announced his run that he would likely win, and I was not taken seriously. I was not taken seriously on most things until the january 6 riots.
I grew up learning to read on records of ww2 atrocity. From the 2010's forward, I have kept tabs on far right groups around the world, how they mobilize and radicalize, and how the leaders of america, australia, new zealand, england and canada cooperate in order to create a sort of staggered escalator of oppression, laundering each others reputations.
trump announced his open nazi intent multiple times during his first presidency. he talked on twitter about forming a millenium empire. people did not take me seriously when i raised alarm flags about this. i am not making this post to scare people or otherwise fear monger, but because i think it is important to be clear on this.
do not underestimate him, or musk, or zuckerberg, because of internalized ableism. do not, for a second, think these men are "too dumb" to carry out their plans. they specifically cultivate that perception and have successfully weaponized it for a very long time.
the next four years At Least for those over there are going to be very, very dangerous, barring an uprising that removes him from power briskly.
if you are in any way marginalized over there, you need to be so careful, and you need to be practical about it. you need to decide if being open and out and bold about gender and sexuality is something you can survive, if someone becomes violent about it.
there is no shame in it if the answer is no. there is no shame in retreating back into the closet for this and scrubbing information that marks you as queer in any way from your paperwork and online presences. i suggest using a different name for gender purposes online than the one you do offline in your private life. make yourself difficult to track down.
regardless of the answer you land on, you need to be prepared. doubly so if your marginalization is not something that can be socially concealed.
prep a go bag, i am so serious. especially if you're in a centre or right wing leaning state.
get your important documentation together, anything you cannot afford to lose. a first aid kit, and learn how to use it. a couple boxes worth of protein bars or nutrient supplement drinks, and aim for a few hundred dollars of cash to have on hand in it too.
even if you think you could not possibly need it, i recommend this. it's helpful in the case of natural disaster or abusive family life as well.
if you do not have neighborhood community level ties and it wouldn't be suicidally dangerous to try: start cultivating these. you want to have a face to your neighbors. you want them to have positive associations with you. you want them to care if a disruption happens in your environment.
i can't give specific advice for this in a general post, because everyone's circumstances will be different, but there's been countless wonderful organization efforts in the US to draw inspiration from on approach.
if you cannot do this, and you only have online community ties: everyone needs to tighten those up. everyone needs to upskill in their communication levels. there is no room for petty infighting that can fracture solidarity. everyone needs to be able to trust each other in a crisis to step up and offer what help they can - whether that is emergency funds, or willingness to shelter someone for even a couple of hours.
if you are cis and white and straight, or it's not known that you're not straight, i encourage you strongly to be someone who initiates efforts to get to know others in the local community, to make it easier for everyone else to participate in this. there are lots of different roles to play, and you will have strengths that will lend themselves to different ones. but you can be a protective barrier for people, and if you have space to spare consider how you would shelter people if they needed it.
rehearse being willing to open your door, if there is violence outside it. rehearse being brave and letting someone who is running away seek shelter even for a couple of minutes inside your place.
prepare for the worst and be pleasantly surprised by anything else. if you think you might need to migrate if it gets very bad, start setting aside money for this now. Even if it is just a dollar a day.
and for the love of god kill the cop and HOA member inside your head.
edit to add:
also PLEASE if you are not armed and actually militantly serious about it and involved with others on an organization level do not put open statements on your online profile info that you're a communist or an anarchist
Do not tie this to your legal name and to your face. Anywhere. And if you're doing truly serious organizational work, do not be doing it on discord. Telegram, at the minimum.
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Fuck
Well, I saw this coming from miles away becaude of course the gacha game will throw any semblance of artistic integrity through the window if they can make cheap fanservice, hence why I made the og post in advance, I didn't want to elaborate more on it when it happened because whatever, people were already dicks about me making the initial post anyway lol
But a guy began bugging me about how the comparison made sense, actually, and I felt the need to elaborate with a final point about why I feel the comparison absolutely misses the point of what full stop is and represents and everything that made them special to me.
Ok, so this guy has been analyzing limbus ids for a while and trying to figure out common themes among them, his conclusion for sinclair ids was, simply put, these are people who are either extremely good at what they do but cant fully see it or arent proud of it (blade lineage, cinq), or people who are slow and trailing behind compared to their peers while also having the potential to be absurdly good at their line of work if they were given the proper support (molar office).
According to him, stephan would be the second case, a guy who is very bad at what he does but could be amazing at it with the proper motivation. The issue is that… if you look at stephan and i mean you really look at him instead of forcing him in a haha funny meme fandom archetype or mold him into whatever can fit the power fantasy of the month that'd be a limbus character, he's really not that.
That's not to say stephan lacks any talent at all, his pessimist and cautious personality makes me imagine he is probably a great planner, coming up with escape plans or alternatives if the team gets cornered or overwhelmed in any non color-fixer-chasing-them-with-killing-intent situation, his physical strength is also there, and i think he'd be at least half decent at unarmed one on one combat because of it, and i feel he appreciates this and the people around him do as well, he has talents and they are in plain sight, and he makes full use of them when the situation requires him to.
But the thing is… everything from his dice ranges to his card names to his passive name are very clear in one thing: he's fucking terrible at aiming and firing a gun, the very thing he's supposed to do and excel at if he doesn't want to lose money. Maybe he's nearsighted, maybe he has astigmatism, maybe he pulls the trigger too fast before being sure he's even aiming at a target, maybe his anxiety is so bad he's shaking and sweating constantly and his fine motor skills are shit because of that, maybe even all of these at the same time.
And it's not just stephan who has this going on either, liwei's keypage wouldn't be talking about "this is what people normally think and what i know i'm supposed to want but i simply can't see the point of all of it" (<- this is autism coding if you're delusional like me but i digress) if he was a "proper fixer", tamaki wouldn't be losing her cool regularly every time stephan begins to complain if she was a "proper fixer", everyone here is notoriously bad at their job one way or another due to things that are quite directly part of who they are so there's no "actually stephan would be a shi section 1 fixer if he wore glasses" or "liwei could become a color if he got rid of his gun and started fighting with a sword instead" for any of them, not without them losing who they are in the way as opposed to the character growth that represents sinclair.
For me these are average people, with average talents which can only take them so far, in a world where most people in their line of work has superhuman skills, and to make matters worse they're focusing their strengths in the wrong things, these aren't the people who will wake up one day and awaken whatever specialest boy ever superpower project moon comes up with next time and become the strongest people who ever lived in the city. Even if they decided to drop everything suddenly and start with something else, there's absolutely nothing they'd excel at.
And that's precisely the thing, they won't just drop everything and suddenly do something they are better at, because the sunk cost fallacy is a fucking bitch when you're risking bankrupcy with every job you take, and that's why the full stop office is to me, the tragedy of people who invested too much and worked for too long in the wrong thing and now they don't have the resources, time or evergy to reinvent themselves anymore even if it'd be better for them in the long run.
I wanted to write a cool conclusion or something but i dont have the energy so just take this instead
STEPHCLAIR IS BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD
Alternative title: a very angry (and tired) Full Stop fan's thesis.
ok, so me being the stephan/sinclair comparison's strongest hater is a bit i really like to lean into, but for the sake of keeping things semi-serious i will try to keep the actual essay content as free of me ranting my frustrations as humanly possible (which i mean commitement to the bit aside this will be hard bc it is frustrating to see people calling them both the same character, at best it shows a very surface level understanding of either character and at worst it shows just reducing them to cookie cutter meme fandom archetypes neither character actually fits into, so bear with me if i slip up and make unserious comments from time to time)
so before i start the actual essay let me say this: this essay doesnt even scratch the surface of how much i hate this comparison you guys cant even possibly fucking imagine ive been obssessed and i mean OBSSESSED with the full stop office since 2021 and im glad i wasnt in the limbus prerelease fanbase because if i had to see people comparing my beautiful boy and beloved best friend to a guy we had no info about other than "hes based of the guy from demian" i would have turned into the joker this is not even about saving my own mental health this is about sparing the entire pjm fandom of the monster i would have turned into
spoilers for ruina and limbus, universe terminology heavy and surface level references and interpretations of demian by herman hesse because imma keep it real with you guys the first and only time i read that book i was still in high school and i barely remember shit.
Table of contents:
Stephan - a summary
Sinclair - a summary 2.1. Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919) 2.2. Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)
Addressing common arguments
1.- Stephan - a summary
And of course I will start with Stephan, because I love him very much, just like Liwei he's one of my favorite pjm characters (yeah i like him more than your favorite popular character don't ask) so it's not surprising that i have A Lot to say about him, right?
And of course, I do.
As I said in the serrated duo post, a core part of my perception of the Full Stop office depends on the fact that they are poor. Mentions of money are common all across many factions in the game, yes, but the Full Stops are extremely constant about money, how taking a wrong turn means losing more than they can afford, how they can't afford to drop their weapons because they were too expensive, how even getting the permissions to be able to buy and wield these weapons was ridiculously expensive and so on. Of course, Stephan is the one talking about this the most (something I will elaborate on later), but Liwei and Tamaki also make a few ocassional mentions to it in their dialogue and keypages and considering this is a shared business it just makes sense that this is something that affects all of them.
These are just some few of the callbacks to money that Stephan alone does in his dialogue, without focusing in keypage text or what Liwei and Tamaki have to say about it.
And idk man, at least to me the difference between social classes is an important aspect for their characterization, specially because of how constant the concern with money is for Stephan. From this point alone comparing them feels like erasing a core aspect of Stephan's characterization, a lot about Stephan (and the Full Stop office as a whole, let's be real here) starts making more sense once you read the office as lower-middle class (and I'm saying lower middle class because they can afford some place to live and their weapons, but to me these guys are the types who precisely because of their need to keep bullets at all times can't pay for water or electricity all the time and sometimes they simply can't afford food or if they do they can spend a week straight eating nothing but unsalted pasta).
Now, going back to Stephan being the most outward about his complaints with money, he is in general the most outward about all problems the office is facing, to the point in which he doesn't mind inconveniencing everyone else with his rants, being one of the few guests who interrupt Angela's introductory speech and getting into Tamaki's nerves (something he's well aware he's doing, as these two know each other) at least two times through the course of their pre-battle cutscene, even Roland comments after the reception on how he wishes he would always have been as open about his problems as Stephan was.
However, it's worth nothing that he doesn't spend the entire cutscene crying about his miseries, and he only starts losing hope at three key moments: when they can't kill Eileen inmediately (making them waste more bullets than needed), when Argalia shows up (forcing them to retreat and making them fail their mission, meaning they won't get paid for this after they already lost a ton of money, as well as turning the situation into something much more dangerous than what they had signed up for) and once they enter the Library (an Urban Plague grade threat they have little to no information about, when him and Tamaki are almost out of bullets so Liwei is essentially the only fixer with some chance of putting up a fight and, you know, making it out alive).
Now, while it's true that Stephan is someone who dislikes danger, he isn't someone who isn't used to seeing gruesome events, his instinctive reaction to seeing a guy getting his head put into a meat grinder was cracking jokes and calling the concept of thought gears "a load of horseshit", which is something that falls in line with him being a somewhat experienced Fixer (sure, grade 5 isn't amazing but we can assume it's still either in the higher side of average or barely above average, and for someone specialized in firearms, which are far from the best weapon in the city, getting that high means he must have some experience and skill, right? more so considering he's been at this for 5 years at most) who has seen a fair share of horrid shit and can be unfazed by (most of) it as long as his own safety isn't on the line.
Another point is... he dislikes danger and is always wary about money and expenses, to the point in which he enjoys checking his bank account (or at least he believes so, if we go for the theory of the artbook profiles being more a mix of what the characters perceive themseves as/would describe themselves as to others, which is a theory i go by, I see him as someone who's convinced he does that for fun instead as out of desperation), but this seems to be more a generalized feeling of impending doom at everything rather than something that can be traced back to a particular traumatic event (anything can be dangerous, anything can cost him money), dude's from the backstreets after all, he's seen shit and he's used to assuming the worst. How I see Stephan, he's a guy who already expects bad things to happen but once things go wrong he starts freaking out about how this time They're Screwed For Real, but he never really tricks himself into believing "maybe things will turn out just fine this time?" or who thinks "well, we've done this before, surely we can handle it again."
This is not very related to Stephan as a character in terms of personality but I think it's still an important point to make as it is particularly related to body mods, his physical condition and his body shape.
So we can easily say that Stephan is a strong dude, at least if compared to real world standards without the fancy and insane body mods we see people in the city have access to. He carries that huge rifle around with his bare hands, something that Tamaki doesn't do and that not even Stephan himself in earlier iterations of his dessign did, and his main talent (which based of my theories is something that can be assumed as "something he's proud enough of to consider it the thing he does best") is physical labor.
Pictured, Tamaki's talksprite, carrying a rifle almost as long as she is tall with a strap supporting the weight on her shoulders, like a normal person.
Also pictured, an earlier iteration of Stephan's dessign, carrying the same rifle his current version does, but also holding it with the help of a similar strap supporting the weight on his shoulders.
And finally, Stephan's current dessign, holding that shit with his bare fucking hands in an exhibition of his brute animal strength, what the fuck is wrong with this man (affectionate)
And Stephan's artbook profile, the important part here is his speciality being physical labor, not only he's strong but he aknowledges this.
However, I made a point about the Full Stop office being poor, right? Even Roland says that "giving a whole office augmentation procedures is cheaper than keeping a decent supply of bullets in stock" (not the exact phrasing).
At least personally, I see this as Roland essentially saying "it would be cheaper (and more efficient) to get body mods for everyone in the office and buy another (cheaper) type of weaponry instead", but as things stand, the Full Stops can afford to either buy more ammunition and maintain their weapons, OR to get body mods, and since their whole deal is firearms... well, they can't really Stop investing in them, meaning they have no body mods At All and they got their grades purely out of their own physical strength.
Similarly, Stephan makes a similar point about how body augmentations are required for people to be able to run while carrying their weapons around (specifically talking about the rifles he and Tamaki use).
And... you know, the whole point is that they couldn't run carrying their weapons because they were too heavy, Argalia mocked them for that, Liwei urged them to drop their weapons, something they refused to do because of the prices.
Lastly on this point, while it's true that Ruina talksprites have a very bad case of Long Anime Legs (to the point in which how Roland's legs take about 2/3 of his height is a common joke), if we focus only on his head and torso, Stephan looks pretty Wide, and not only because he's wearing thick, fluffy and multilayered clothing, as other characters wearing similar clothing styles still look thinner than him.
This is all to say: I don't think this guy is a twink, or thin at all. He's a prime example of the strongman build to me and this is yet another hill I'm willing to die on watch project moon turn him into a beanpole once he inevitably shows up in limbus and me turning into the first real world distortion as a consequence.
Finally, Stephan is very notoriously the most informal member of the office, not only being the only one who doesn't wear any sort of formal clothing fully prioritizing comfort and practicality over looks but also completely disregarding formalities with his attitude at work (again, he interrupts Angela's introductory monologue, and again, his first two lines when being introduced are him cracking jokes), being the only member of the office to swear on screen and using several informal expressions and metaphors through both the reception dialogue and his keypage story.
And for good measure, he's a compilation of Stephan being the creature he is.
The literal introduction of the characters, also known as the moment in which Stephan became one of my favorite characters because he's Just Like Me Fr
Very normal behavior for someone who hates blood and violence and isn't used to seeing it. This man is more than capable (and willing, assuming money is involved) to murder kill.
Which, I mean, this attitude is very different from what we see from Sinclair.
2.- Sinclair, a summary
In retrospect I probably should have made this one first because I'm gonna be honest with you, Sinclair is one of the sinners I care about the least (I still like him and think he's pretty cool mind you I just don't vibe too much with most of the tropes making up the character) so what I have to say about him is less me grasping for straws and subtext because I don't care enough about him to be bothered with a super serious and in depth analysis like I did with Stephan and more things we can explicitly see about him in game and things that happen in the novel Demian.
And if I can have a small parenthesis here, people saying that one of my favorite pjm guys Ever is in any way similar to a guy who despite being pretty cool is just Not the type of character I fully vibe with... really, it gets annoying fast. Anyway back to the serious analysis now.
2.1- Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919)
To be able to understand Sinclair as he is depicted in Limbus Company, it is important to first be familiar with the source material of the original iteration of the character, that's it we're doing your high school homework by compiling several literary analysis of a symbolic psychological early 20th century autobiographical novel i hope you guys signed up for this (and if you didn't, though luck! i will do this anyway, I love literary analysis).
In the novel, young Emil finds himself torn between the worlds of light (which can be equated to the Garden of Eden, but it's more tangible meaning for our protagonist is his childhood home and family, a serene and well structure/organized space where he can be innocent, untainted by the evils of the outside world) and darkness (basically all the scary shit that goes on outside, where people do evil things for the sake of it), he finds himself tempted by the violence of the outside world, particularly through the actions of his classmate Franz Kromer, which eventually leads him to consider that due to being exposed to this tainted world of evil he no longer can return to the world of good and innocence.
Here, the character of Demian acts as a guide, someone who helps Sinclair to trascend this binary perception of good vs evil and to see himself as someone worthy of happiness because him witnessing the world of evil didn't taint him as a person but rather merely showed him another face of the world, Demian here mentions the Mark of Cain as a symbol of mental strenght and freedom, considering that bearers of this mark are capable of making their own choices and should be able to go beyond their assigned roles, being able to embody aspects of both worlds. This is to say that Demian's view is less focused on good vs evil, instead taking a more order vs chaos approach (without giving an explicit moral character to either).
In the book, the symbol of a bird breaking out of the egg is frequently used to represent Emil's personal growth, the egg represents safety and innocence, but a bird must eventually leave the egg or it will die, and getting out of the egg is a process than can be seen as violent, as a bird must fight to get out of the egg, and getting out of the egg represents birth but also an irreversible change, it can be seen as breaking out of the world of light and getting permanently in the world of darkness since a broken shell can't be fixed, but it can also mean achieving the enlightment and personal balance to not feel permanently bound to a condition, place or state of being and therefore growing as a person by learning to see himself as a whole human instead of supressing his "evil side" by only forcing the "good side" to surface.
Max Demian is here to show this second meaning of growth/self improvement (while also explaining that Sinclair is permamently growing and must always keep this balance between all the parts conforming the whole being that is himself rather that trying to make parts of himself antagonize each other). This idea of personal growth being one of the core themes of the book.
2.2- Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)
With Sinclair's source media analyzed (at a very surface level, mind you), we now can start talking about the depiction of Sinclair in Limbus Company, how it parallels the book, why the book symbolism is important for this instance of Sinclair and so on.
When we are first introduced to Sinclair in the game he's clearly nervous, he doesn't know what he's supposed to do as he hasn't worked for a similar company before and he isn't used to the gruesome sight of the bus eating people, this does fit inmediately in the motif of a naive person with limited experience about the world (well, to be fair to him most people won't be seeing man-eating buses at a regular basis, but the average backstreets dweller would be familiar with equally violent situations).
With this said, despite Sinclair's obviously nervous behavior... he isn't really a pessimist like Stephan was, in fact, almost every chapter (counting cantos, intervallos and the short mini chapters such as the Dante's notes update episode) have at least one key moment with him trying to rationalize horrible stuff as something much less violent, or simply going "but I thought this thing didn't work like this..." when confronted with the more horrible realities in the city. He thought the G corp veterans were really going to let them pass without a fight, he thought the people being controlled by headhens were just actors wearing mascot costumes, he thought mermaids were the beautiful half-woman half-fish creatures he heard about in fairy tales, and there's more examples but I don't really feel like looking for The Entire Fucking Plot Because This Guy Is An Actual Protagonist Instead Of A Background Guy Like Stephan Was to make my point clearer than it already is. And it's only when he realizes that the real world doesn't fit his expectations that he panics.
Well, there is one exception to this pattern: his own canto. Here, he panics inmediately as soon as K corp's nest is mentioned and spends the first half of the chapter pleading to turn back while saying that they are going to get killed. So what is different here with the rest of the plot?
Obviously, the fact that is related to his very own very personal very specific trauma. That is to say, unlike Stephan who is wary of anything that can put him on danger or cost him more money than it should, Sinclair has a very specific traumatic event that makes him act Like That (sure, he gets scared and nervous outside that, but these are more normal "I'm unfamiliar with this and I don't fully know how to react, this is normal behavior in a human being" reactions than outright "I am Actually Terrified due to being reminded of an actual traumatic event, this reaction is a textbook definition of post-traumatic stress disorder").
HOWEVER, Sinclair being someone who's deeply traumatized and kind of a scaredy cat when it comes to violence and unfamiliar situations... it doesn't mean that he's incompetent or a bad fighter. Almost all of his identities are terrifyingly good fighters (at least in their lore), Los Mariachis fear jefe Sinclair, Cinq director Sinclair is someone most association members are terrified to duel even during training, Blade Lineage Sinclair is considered a talented killer (it's also worth noting that save maybe for the mariachi one, in none of these mirror worlds Sinclair is precisely happy of being recognized as "the guy who's very scary when he fights people", unlike Stephan who I don't think he particularly likes killing but has a more "as long as I get paid..." mentality about it), the only "not very good at this" Sinclair id I can think of is the molar boatworks id where he's more a mechanic than a fighter so he fears he's lagging behind in that aspect. Hell, even the Canon Timeline so to speak (which is to say: his base identity) has him carrying that huge halberd, going on a frenzy attacking some already mutilated inquisitor's corpse, piercing through Guido's armor and dealing a fatal blow that finally killed him for real. To compare, Stephan is good at physical work, but we don't know about his close combat capacities other than the fact that he dislikes it, for Sinclair however we know he's terrifyingly good at physical combat.
Now, I've seen a lot of people call Sinclair a twink and while it's one of these words that nobody agrees on what it means, let's give it the benefit of doubt and say "alright, for the duration of this analysis let's settle on a twink being a young looking (regardless of actual age), thin man with almost no facial/body hair".
Since Sinclair is a rich guy (not just Any Rich Guy though, we're talking of someone whose family had ties to a Wing, probably not some elite guy like Daniel or Hong Lu, but not a self perceived "mediocre" nest dweller like Samjo either), and pressumably not very experienced in combat in most mirror worlds (we know he has no prior experience in the base one where he joined Limbus, at least), let's say that he has enough body mods for him to be much stronger than he looks like despite being thin, he does look thin and young and much to my dissapointment he also has no facial hair, so yeah, under this very broad definition of the term he is a twink.
However if you start adding personality archetypes to the definition he stops being one almost inmediately, as we've been shown time after time that his "submissive" attitude is mostly a result of him not knowing too well how to impose himself and just going along with what the rest say or do, but he's starting to grow tired of that ever since Hell's Chicken (even if he clearly still isn't great at that), as it should be more than obvious for anyone who even just googled "demian herman hesse literary analysis", Sinclair is undergoing a lot of changes even now, and the game is doing a good job at portraying that.
Honestly I also think he'd be hotter with a sleeper build but really, I don't care enough about him to argue about that.
And for the last point, precisely due to his upbringing as a rich guy AND his traumatic experience with Kromer, Sinclair is not only a very polite and mild mannered guy (again, unlike resident creature Stephan), but also he tries to take as little space as possible, both literally and metaphorically, as Dante notices near the end of canto 3 when they finally comment on how Sinclair never talks about his own problems until it's too late because he doesn't want to bother the others as they probably have it worse (again, unlike Stephan "i don't mind loweing team morale and making everyone in the room uncomfortable as long as i get to vent" Full Stop office).
3.- Adressing common arguments
Alright, now that I talked about each character, let's see some of the most common arguments I've seen people use to compare them.
"They look the same!" No, they don't. The only thing they have in common is being blonde but even their hairstyles are different with Sinclair having a simple bowl-ish cut with slightly wavy hair and Stephan having curlier hair (not to mention the whole point I made about body types because I'm the sort of lunatic who cares about that stuff). I won't even bother with this argument.
"They have the same personalities!" Again, they don't. Stephan is very cynical with a lot of his attitude being clearly derivated from him coming from a poor background and having stayed there his whole life, he also doesn't care about his cynism getting in the way and bothering everyone else. On the other hand, Sinclair is someone who could almost be described as naive due to having lived a sheltered childhood and only having his experiences with Kromer and his time at Limbus as moments of realizing that the rest of the world is Not Like His Childhood House, still believing that the world is a binary of good vs evil and expecting things to turn out fine or be much better than they actually are, just to be hit with the reality of the city Not being a nice place where people are nice and polite and not trying to kill him, this is not to say he doesn't have his own issues but even Dante notices during his Canto that Sinclair makes a point to avoid bothering everyone else with his personal problems, keeping them to himself even if that makes things worse on the long run.
"Both are opposed and harmed by a lunatic!" This is an argument I've seen a lot and is incredibly filmsy at best, half of the city's population are lunatics and the other half are people who got opposed by them some way or another. Will you say that Ishmael and the rest of the Pequod crew can be compared to the Full Stop office (or really, even mention the other Full Stop fixers instead of just focusing on Stephan because he happens to be blonde and can be compared to Sinclair) because of their situations with Ahab? Or the W Corp crew who got their train targetted by Jae-heon and Elena (or, you know, the train passengers who were turned into Love townspeople or puppets)? What about the Vermillion Cross who got killed by the Reverb Ensemble? Or the Cane office fixers? or the Zwei association section 6 who got beaten to death by Gyeong-mi just because he felt like doing so? Or the Liu association section 1 who had to deal with Argalia taking Philip away? Or the Kurokumo clan members when they were attacked by Tanya? You aren't comparing them to either Stephan or Sinclair, right? Not to mention that in her weird and fucked up perception of things, Kromer was less opposed to Sinclair as she was trying to lead him to join her and her cause, even the last things she says before getting killed are her calling him to follow her.
"Both are compared to birds!" Oh, right, because I forgot that a very directed symbolic comparison to a baby bird breaking out of it's shell as a symbol of rebirth, learning about the nuances of the world and self improvement/liberation that is consistently used in the source material Sinclair comes from is exactly the same as one (1) throwaway line the big bad guy uses to mock not only Stephan but the whole Full Stop gang, right. And if you want to say "but Tamaki compares him to a bird once too", yeah she calls him a parrot because he keeps repeating the same complaints over and over, it's still not the same as a consistent metaphor.
"Both are sad blonde twinks! They're essentially the same guy." Sad? Yeah, everyone in the city is sad but their ways to be sad are polar opposites, and neither of them is the pure cinnamon roll uwu crybaby archetype people tend to lump both into, Stephan was merely having a bad day and people decided to make that his whole personality (when honestly we get more insight on his actual personality before Argalia shows up, when he's making sarcastic remarks and getting impatient because they weren't starting killing people fast enough) but he's still perfectly capable (and willing) to murder people, and Sinclair is just... someone who lacks experience about the real world and how it works and has a tendency to get nervous because of this, but he can adapt quickly to situations once he understands them. Blonde? Yeah, but I guess if that's a point to draw a comparison then we should also compare them to Don Quixote, the Tiphereths, Lenny, Yun, Lulu, Olga, every single npc, librarian, and agent who comes with blonde hair from the generator... Twinks? Stephan absolutely isn't one, Sinclair depends on how you define twink as nobody seems to get to an agreement with that, if you define it as merely "young looking thin man with almost no visible body hair" then yeah he is one, but if you go for any more specific definition than that he stops fitting into the definition almost instantly.
In conclusion: if I see anyone else comparing them I'll start blocking people liberally bc I'm sick of seeing that shit (I do that already tbh but just so you know), now scram
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ha ha ha. the way my feelings started to grow for my best friend right before I found out he's moving states and states away over the summer. ha ha ha. so pony and johnny core hahhaha
#see i was JUST about to tell him how i felt (maybe)#and i was JUST about to suggest a qpr (maybe)#and now i find out hes leaving me...#EVIL!!#hahaha this is sooo doomed ponyboy and johnny qpr hahaha#i always knew one of us would make it out of this shitty little town and one of us wouldnt#and maybe this entire time i knew id be the one to stay. of my own choice? i cant even tell anymore#but to finally understand what he means to me after all of these years and to know hes on his way out#very heartbreaking!#this town is a dead end road. lets leave this behind lets just get up and go#find a new place to call home. make a new life we can call our own#someplace where we can be free. free to decide who we want to be.#it certainly is all becoming clear now isnt it?#i want to get up and just go with him but how do i get out of this poor ass town#and the worst part? we're both bound for bigger things its just that one of us has a way to get there#and its certainly not me#also did i mention hes moving far out to the country? am im stuck in this little poor town?#and weve always talked about a life spent together?#feeling very doomed right now#life imitates art i guess#sooo...if anyones up to hear me rant or vent through my little heartbreak
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Babe. Babe wake up, I can't stop thinking about Aegond and their weird ass fuck sibling dynamic. Babe.
#Aegon exerting power over a desperate Aemond trying to please his big brother#Hoping to be accepted into Aemond's little kid squad#Aegon being the clear leader when it comes to bullying Aemond#Deciding what to do and how far to go and making it VERY clear that he won't allow his nephews stepping out of line#He'd get excited when Aemond gets agitated and whiny but at the same time snaps at Jace when he makes Aemond cry#Then Driftmark happens and their relationship completely changes#Now it's Aegon treading on eggshells around Aemond#Not knowing how to treat Aemond now that he got hurt - seriously hurt#And Aegon wasn't there to protect him#By the very same people Aegon always seemed to prefer over his brother (in Aemond's eyes)#And all this awkwardness culminates into Aegon being the one begging on his knees#Asking for Aemond to tell him what to do to make it up to him#Offering to play Aemond's personal servant#And Aemond wouldn't agree to it initially because he - obviously - has other things on his mind#And their power grapples seem so childish now#But then something shifts again and Aemond turns hard and grim#And he starts using Aegon like his personal ragdoll during training#And Aegon LET'S HIM#Anyway I don't wanna use too many tags#Aegond#hotd#*AEGON'S kid squad of course
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Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:
The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.
Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.
It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.
Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄
Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.
also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh
⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️
Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D
Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.
Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:
'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.
you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH
And, finally:
lmao this is shit
True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.
Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD
Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D
Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)
#fanart#gravity falls#billford#bill cipher#stanford pines#stanley pines#dipper pines#mabel pines#pyronica#handyman bill au#book of bill#the good place#incorrect quotes#heck yeah i'm tagging billford - cuz these old men are EXES#jfc i said i wasn't going to color any other gravity falls stuff i made - and then what do i do?#i fukken color all of it#i may have a problem lmao#the green area outside the theraprism is because i forgot what was outside it and just went 'lol greenscreen idgaf'
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plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾
robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
a/n: me👰♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna
sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.
it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.
in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.
so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.
uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.
the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.
he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.
considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.
so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.
so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.
he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.
perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.
that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.
and no one knows about that door except—
“y/n.”
you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.
you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”
keyword: try.
he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”
he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”
your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.
you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.
sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”
he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.
you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.
and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?
he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”
you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, he also wants to know what’s wrong.
if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.
his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.
“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.
“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.
he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—
—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”
he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.
so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”
after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”
you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”
“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”
a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”
you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.
you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”
a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from your husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.
sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”
“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”
he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.
you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”
you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”
he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”
you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”
“good,” he smirks.
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#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk imagines#sukuna imagine#jjk sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna x you#jjk sukuna x y/n
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BITE
18+ / mdi
summary: keeping appearances as an idol was already hard enough, but it becomes even worse upon finding a forlorn jeonghan with need of assistance with the company's faulty security system, instantly becoming endeared with the idol who refused to take no for an answer — not that you'd ever want him to.
content: idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, afab reader, small age gap implied, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is mentioned to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 11.7k
a/n: this fic is based on this scenario, except i decided to expand on it and make it into a full fic!!
masterlist | patreon
"Hey, is that Yoon Jeonghan from Seventeen?", asked Minji as she patted your shoulder, finger pointing towards your right.
"Who?", you wondered, attempting to make sense of the distressed man standing in front of the main artist elevators in the building, "Oh, yeah, I think that's him," you said once you spotted his face, deeming it impossible to not recognize a face such as his.
"Why is he just standing there?", she wondered, holding onto your arm in the affectionate manner she usually did, "Do you think it's that elevator thing again?" she faced you to ask.
"What elevator thing?"
"Apparently he went on a variety show and complained about the company's security system. It was a whole controversy, but I guess the facial recognition doesn't work for him for some reason," she informed you before chuckling at the sight of Jeonghan sighing in defeat at yet another failed attempt at utilizing the aforementioned system, "I thought it was a bit, but I guess he was for real."
"Huh," you hummed, having been unaware of the issue. The system worked just fine for you and all your members, so you never had any motive to question it. Your senior, however, had clear issues with the system. Within the two minutes you had noticed his presence, he had already attempted the facial recognition three times, getting rejected every single one of them.
"You should help him," your groupmate suggested, "I would, but my manager will be here soon for my shoot. You only have rehearsals today, right? You're heading that way anyway."
"What? No!" you declined, "I always get anxious around our seniors. I've never even met him," you added, far too shy to even face the pretty boy during his predicament.
Disconnecting from you, she grabbed onto your shoulders, scolding you, "Dude, just go help him! This is how you make connections. You give him a hand and then he gives you one back," she said, physically turning you around so you could face his direction, hands still on your shoulders, "Go! My ride's probably already here anyways. Good luck," she encouraged as she pushed you forward, making you absentmindedly begin walking towards the boy.
Taking a breath, you began to walk towards the boy who seemed to grow more and more frustrated at the faulty security system. The closer you got, the more you could hear his whines in complaint. It appeared that he had taken up a phone call during the time you'd been talking to your friend, frustratedly arguing with whoever was on the other line.
"Seokminnie, c'mon! Just come down! I'll buy you soju after practice," he whined, groaning at whatever response his groupmate had given him in return, "My manager already left ... Yeah .... No! Stop! Just come down! I'm your senior and- Wait! Don't hang up!", he groaned at last upon hearing the classic sound of a disconnected line invade his ears.
It was only then that he seemed to notice your presence, widening his eyes momentarily before offering you a brief bow to acknowledge your presence. Moving aside, he gave you enough space to stand in front of the elevator, quietly awaiting for you to utilize the security system, likely assuming you had not heard his prior predicament. He gestured for you to move forward, acting as if he were being a gentleman in allowing you to go first.
You approached the small facial recognition screen, about to scan your face before turning to him, finding the boy staring at you expectantly, "You need me in order to use the elevator, don't you?", you asked him, amused.
"Huh?", he gaped at you, tsk'ing afterward and making an odd 'Eyyy' sound, "I'm just being a gentleman. Go ahead," he gave you a tight yet amused smile.
You chuckled in return, "Liar," you were surprised at how easy it was to be informal with him, but he was immediately likable, "Ask me to help you and maybe I might," you added, giving him a satisfied smile.
"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm your senior — Whatever happened to respect?", he joked, tsk'ing at you once more. He proceeded to walk towards you, pushing his face onto the scanner and ignoring your presence altogether, "I'll do it, see," he practically challenged, attempting the scanner once more.
Unsurprisingly, he was met with a red X and a beeping sound that indicated yet another failure to be recognized by the system. This caused him to stand there in silence for a few seconds before whining 'Yah!' and cursing out the security system.
Clearing his throat, he straightened up again, facing you once more, "Sorry about that. Your turn," he gestured to you to move forward again, stepping out of your way.
Both amused and surprised, you decided to finally utilize the scanner on yourself, smiling at him with a satisfied look when it immediately allowed you in. Turning to him, you nodded at him to get in before you, only for him to gesture for you to go first. Something about 'ladies first.'
"You owe me one," you said once you were both in the elevator again, standing side by side as you faced the closing door.
"Nuh-uh. This was just a coincidence. You needed to head upstairs anyways," he rebutted petulantly.
"Yeah? So you don't need me to help you get to your floor, then, right?", you questioned mockingly, knowing he would also have to work the scanner in order to get the door to open to Seventeen's designated floor. There were far too many steps to get to the artists' floors, but it made sense to you by now.
Upon the realization, he groaned, letting himself throw his head back against the wall behind him as he earned a giggle from you. He frowned in your direction at your laugh, though he joined you with a chuckle just mere seconds later.
"Okay, fine. I owe you," he gave up, still leaning against the wall behind but turning his head to look at you, "What can Yoon Jeonghan do for you?"
You pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, finger on your chin as you thought it over, "I have no idea. I'll let you know," you finally responded, "Okay, so, what floor?", you asked as your finger moved to the buttons on the elevator door.
"13th," he responded, now casually leaning back against the wall.
"Oh? The second highest floor. You're an important man, aren't you?", you teased, pressing his button before moving onto your group's number 9.
"Nine?," he gaped, "Seems I'm higher on the company hierarchy than you, yet you show me no respect," he joked back.
"Shut up. I'm going out of my way for you. Senior or not, you owe me. Those are the rules of all civilized society," you argued back.
"Okay, how about," he began, pressing his hands together as if making a proposition, "I see you downstairs every morning bright and early with a fresh cup of coffee in exchange for your face — y'know, for the scanner. How's that sound?", he proposed, a pleased smile on his face at your agape mouth.
"Every morning? Do you not have any friends?", you asked as the elevator continued to move up.
"Do you see anyone here? They all get here before me. You seem pretty friendless. C'mon. Free coffee, good company. I'll even play one of your group's songs in my next Welive. See? Can't get any better than that," he continued to sell his idea as the elevator came to a stop, now at his floor but demanding yet another facial scan to even exit the elevator.
"God, the security's too much," he groaned upon noticing the prompt on the small screen inside the elevator, "C'mon!", he turned to you, "Try to tell me that's not unnecessary."
You gave up, nodding as you chuckled, though not making a move to scan your face.
"Say yes. Please," he dragged the e for an annoyingly long amount of time, grinning when you rolled your eyes but laughed, "I'll keep going. Just agree. What better way to spend your time than with Yoon Jeonghan?"
"What makes you think I even knew that name before today?", you challenged.
"You do. Don't lie to me, it won't work," he smirked back before going back to being annoying again, "Come on-"
"Fine! I'll meet you downstairs every morning expecting a fresh matcha in hand — I don't drink coffee. But you still owe me," you agreed, extending your hand to him to solidify the agreement.
"No coffee? Ew. But okay, deal," he returned your handshake, holding onto your hand for an annoying amount of time, pretending as if he were unaware of when to let go and waiting for you to pull his hand off yours with another eye roll. He chuckled any time he managed to get a reaction out of you, leading you to realize he must be an absolute menace to every person he comes across. Sadly, he was charmingly entertaining, leaving you with no complaints.
Finally, you scanned your face on the screen, letting him walk in front of you to head out. Before the elevator doors could close and separate again, he held his arm out to stop them, nodding towards you.
"What's your name? I like you," he said plainly, head tilted in curiosity.
"Y/N," you said, "Please don't introduce yourself again-"
"Yoon Jeonghan," he interrupted anyways, "Remember that. We'll be having fun in the near future," were his last words before removing his hand and allowing the elevator doors to separate you, likely heading over to his groupmates upon leaving your line of sight.
Silver doors closed in front of you, now leaving you to your own company. Dumbfounded yet amused by the interaction, you stood there as you waited for the elevator to arrive to your floor, robotically scanning your face on the door once you made it there and exiting the square-shaped room upon arrival. There, you stood with the remnant of a shocked smile on your face, surprised at how easy it had been to put any concept of age or seniority aside when interacting with Yoon Jeonghan. While you always had the tendency of being overly formal with your seniors, you had spoken to Jeonghan like you would any guy your age, disregarding formalities as soon as he'd spoken to you.
You didn't truly need any convincing to agree to see him again. On the contrary, had he not suggested as such, you would've remained with an itch to find a reason for a re-encounter. Like any other junior idol at a company with big names such as BTS and Seventeen, developing a slight crush on your seniors was the normalcy — your groupmates Minji and Lila had crushes on BTS' V and Seventeen's Vernon, respectively — and it appeared that you were now joining them in the list of girls with unrequited crushes.
Jeonghan was, what, maybe five or so years older than you? The age difference alone was enough for you to chalk this up to a mindless crush. That, and the kindergarten teacher voice he had put on while speaking to you — clearly he made a very obvious distinction about your age difference right off the bat.
As of now, all you could do was hope to see him again (which, thankfully, you would) and retain the fun back and forth he'd welcomed you in on. Friendzone was one thing, but junior-zone? At least you now had a story to let your members in on next dance practice.
"Hey, it's you again."
"God, announce yourself next time," you groaned, hand clutching your heart at the short-lived shock of Yoon Jeonghan suddenly bumping your shoulder whilst walking down one of the many endless hallways of the Hybe building.
"I said 'hey,'" he shrugged, continuing to walk by your side, "So, where are we going?"
"Who's 'we,'" you scoffed, "I'm going to buy lunch," you said, continuing to walk as he remained by your side.
"Great, I was thinking of getting something to eat too," he agreed, humming to himself afterwards.
"Okay, so I guess we're having lunch together, then," you hummed back, resigned to your senior's company.
"You catch on quickly, I like that," he gave you a closed-lip grin, "We're going to be seeing each other quite often, might as well start now."
Crossing the doors to the cafeteria, you headed to the lunch area to pick up something to eat, Jeonghan following right behind you and annoyingly picking out the same exact lunch as you, piece by piece. You simply looked back at him with a menacing stare, only causing a bigger grin out of him. Once you made it to the cashier area, your hand made its way to your bag with the intent to pull out your card only to be stopped by one Yoon Jeonghan who had been quicker to scan his own. You had had no plans of preventing him from buying his own meal, but you had also not expected him to pay for your own.
"Wait, you don't have to-"
"Too late," he grinned, walking past you before looking over his shoulder and nodding at you to follow him.
Heading over to a two-seater table, you followed him, taking a seat right across from him. The place was empty sans another duo of two idols eating on the opposite side of the large cafeteria, so you didn't feel too strange at the idea of being spotted with a senior idol.
Sitting across from him, you took note of how lax and confident his demeanor was. It must be nice, you thought. It was quite the opposite for you, especially considering the dynamic between you. This wad a first for you — the whole sharing a meal with a senior from one of the groups that inspired you to become an idol in the first place. You had interacted with some of your seniors before, but you had not had the chance of befriending any of them thus far, much less grab their attention in the same way you had caught Jeonghan's.
It made you feel anxious to be one-on-one with him in such an exposed setting. You knew that within the walls of Hybe, interacting with idols was not seen as odd nor would it lead to any sort of scandal, but you also worried that it might seem strange due to your gender and age difference. However, Jeonghan somehow managed to make you feel more relaxed and less proper than you likely would with any other idol.
"What are you thinking about?" he nodded at you as he sipped at his water, interrupting your thoughts.
"Nothing," you replied, beginning to pay mind to the food in front of you, "You didn't have to pay for my meal, by the way."
"You're clearly thinking about something. I can hear those thoughts cooking in there all the way from here," he chuckled, " — and I'm a gentleman and your senior, of course I had to pay," he shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing.
"Don't you have friends?", you asked bluntly, forking at your meal as he snickered at you.
"This is the second time you come after my social life, okay ... Ignoring your disrespect, I do have friends. Twelve of them, actually, maybe even more," he informs you in a 'ha, told you so!' type of tone.
Now was your turn to laugh, unable to take him too seriously, "So, does their facial recognition not work either? Are you so annoying they won't share a meal with you?," you tilted your head mockingly.
"You're better company," he shrugged at you, "Not sure how I never noticed you before, but hey, never too late, right?"
"You barely know me," you grumbled.
"Yeah, and I'm working on that. Keep up!", he chastised, tapping the table.
"You're gonna get me into a scandal for hanging out with me so shamelessly," you reminded him, but made no attempt to leave the situation.
"Who's going to see us?", he looked around, spotting the two other people (sans staff) in the room, "Hanjin from TWS? That's my junior, he'd never say a word. Plus, this is just innocent senior-junior fraternizing, don't worry too much," he tsk'd, leaning back against his seat in a relaxed manner once more.
"You're too relaxed for your own good. How have you never been in a scandal before?", you gaped at him, swatting his hand when his hand made its way to your plate, grabbing at a fry, "Are you like this with all your juniors?"
"Oh? You've been keeping up with me? How do you know im scandal-less? And nope, I already told you — I like you."
"Is it surprising to you that I'd keep up with one of the biggest groups in Kpop?," you feigned disinterest, "Okay, if you like me so much, can I drop the honorifics, then?", you tried, matching the amused grin he gave you.
"Hmm," he pondered for a moment, "I'll let you speak to me informally if you make a compromise with me," he paused, waiting for you to nod for him to continue, "I want you to call me oppa," he grinned.
His shit-eating grin reached all the way to his ears, making you scowl at him. Due to your age difference and the overall senior-junior dynamic of your relationship, it was not an ordinary request for a senior to ask you to call him oppa, thus causing his amusement at his own request. Usually, you'd call seniors like him sunbae or by their full name considering that you were nowhere close enough to him to call him oppa, but his grin told you that he'd be far too pleased to have you calling him by that honorific rather than a more formal alternative.
"No," you deadpanned, "Anything else, just-"
"Fine. Since we're officially friends now, you can call me what all my friends call me; Jeonghannie — Hannie if you're feeling particularly friendly," he continued grinning at you with a pleased look in his eye.
"Hold on, since when are we friends?", you chuckled slapping his hand away from your plate once more, "God! Was there any point in buying my meal if you're just gonna keep eating from it?", you groaned, not truly annoyed but still bugged by the man.
"You've got a short fuse," he noted, "That only makes this even more fun, you realize that, right?" he said as he chewed on what were formerly your fries.
"You're going to be trouble for me at some point, aren't you?", you wondered out loud, chuckling at how pleased he was.
"No, you are — trust me," he said almost to himself.
God damn him, was he flirting with you? Throughout the past few hours of knowing him, you'd been pretty sure he just enjoyed banter by nature, not that he was just singling you out in order to flirt with you. Maybe he was just a flirtatious person by nature? Regardless, your original statement was correct — he was going to cause you trouble one way or another.
Unfortunately to all, the rest of your day was not nearly as eventful as the first few hours (courtesy of Yoon Jeonghan). Leaving the artist designated floors did not require face-scanning, so your duties for the man ended quickly after your lunch together.
For the remainder of the day, you engaged in your diligent idol duties as you practiced and recorded with your groupmates. You'd hoped to catch another glimpse of the flirtatious boy who had caught your attention earlier, but you went home without any more contact. You would've been disheartened by this had you not known he'd be waiting for you by the elevators the following morning.
You had chosen not to tell your bandmates about your interactions with Jeonghan. Although he had been right about you being safe to interact with each other inside the walls of Hybe, you were only on your first year after debut, so the paranoia of insisting your first scandal was far too big to risk anything. Still, you were not about to actually deny him of more time spent together; you'd grown to enjoy his company too much for that.
In your seemingly endless train of thought, you're startled by the sudden presence next to you as you stand by the Hybe elevators. You'd arrived at the same time you had yesterday, assuming Jeonghan would also be present as he was the day prior. After waiting for ten minutes, you were rewarded with another mini heart attack caused by him.
"You're kinda skittish, aren't you?", he laughed, hand giving you a pat on the shoulder as a form of greeting, "Waited for me long?"
"Nope," you responded, turning to look at him, finding him holding two cups on a single, strangely large hand, "Is that my matcha?", you asked, hand reaching out to grab it from him only to be met with resistance from the boy.
"Aht aht," he chastised, "No 'good morning'? No 'you look really handsome today, oppa'? Where did your manners go?", he bit his lip in amusement at himself (and likely at the scowl that formed on your face).
"Yoon Jeonghan, if you don't give me that damn drink I'm leaving you stranded down here," you threatened, snatching the drink from his hand and sipping it with annoyance.
"You wouldn't," he mocked, "Anyways, go on," he gestured for you to step forward in order to scan your face, raising his eyebrows when you didn't make a move to help, "I can get even more annoying," he threatened.
"Fine," you grumbled, scanning your face and stepping into the elevator.
Once settled inside the small box, Jeonghan stood next to you, taking micro side steps in order for his shoulder to brush against yours. When that didn't get your attention, he opted to clear his throat, chuckling at the glimpse of an eye roll he got from where he was standing. As a last effort, his shoulder bumped yours in a more notorious way, finally grabbing your annoyed attention.
"What?," you hissed.
"Okay, first of all, let's calm down. Second of all, I need your face for a little longer today," he winced at your reaction, "I know, I know, but you promised," he reminded you.
"I never promised anything," you scowled, although interested in the idea of seeing him outside of the elevator again, "What do you want?"
"Just need to stop by to see Mingyu in floor 11 for a few minutes — Mingyu, you know him, right? All your friends are probably crushing on him, everyone is. Anyways, it'll be just five minutes and then I'll leave you alone," he went on, hand on your shoulder as he gave you those gigantic and irresistible bug eyes of his.
"What if I'm busy?", you asked, knowing you truly weren't.
"You're not. Senior or not, you would've already told me to fuck myself if I were getting in the way of your work," he said with confidence.
"Fine," you sighed as you dragged out the e, pressing the correct button in order to take Jeonghan to his destination. The elevator ride was short but taken up by Jeonghan making short quips in order to make you laugh. Unfortunately, he was too naturally charismatic for his own good.
Finally stopping at the correct floor, Jeonghan got off the elevator while you remained inside, thinking that maybe it was a good idea to just wait for him in there. This wasn't a common hour for other idols to head in or out of the building anyway, so the elevators would likely remain unused while you waited.
Jeonghan had a different idea, however, standing at the entrance of the elevator as he looked back at you expectantly, nodding his head for you to follow him. When you silently shook your head at him, he groaned annoyingly, reaching to grab onto your hand and pull you to him.
"If you wanted me to hold your hand so badly you could've just said so," he mocked, squeezing it as he pulled you to him. You attempted to let go of his hand, but his grip was too harsh. It's not that you didn't want to hold it, but more like you were too nervous to do so, which he likely caught on to but didn't care for.
"What, scared someone will see us?", he snickered, "Would it be that terrible to be spotted holding hands with me? I'd be the best dating scandal of your life," he giggled, voice growing louder when you laughed along with him, "Oh! A smile? So you do like me, huh?"
"God, are you this flirty with everyone?", you groaned, squeezing his hand extra hard until he winced, giggling at your attempt to harm him.
"You're just fun to rile up," he confessed, leading you to a door you'd never seen before, "This is a shared studio a few Seventeen members use. Ever met any of them?", he asked as he stopped in front of the door, still not letting go of your hand.
"Am I meeting them now?", your eyes widened, "We did a dance challenge with Seungkwan and Vernon, but that's it," you revealed, using the correct honorifics for both that you did not use for Jeonghan.
"So formal. Cute," he snickered, "Well, you're about to meet a few more. Don't be nervous," he started, "If you're able to keep up with me, they'll like you. You're hard not to like," he smiled in a comforting way, not snickering at you for the first time ever.
Before you could respond, the door opened from the other side, revealing who you knew to be Boo Seungkwan of Seventeen with an annoyed scowl on his face, only dropping it upon seeing you.
"Yah! Yoon Jeongha- Oh, hi!", he interrupted himself halfway through his nagging as soon as he saw you, eyes going from Jeonghan's to yours to your interlocked hands, causing his head to tilt in curiosity, "We've met, right?," he bowed, uttering your name and offering you a smile, "Are you holding her hostage?", he asked towards Jeonghan, noting his tight grip on your hand.
"This is my new friend," Jeonghan introduced you despite Seungkwan having already said your name, gesturing towards your interlocked hands, "She's helping me out lately."
Without further explanation, Seungkwan moved aside in order to let the two of you in. Throughout it all, Jeonghan refused to let go of your hand, toying with your fingers at times. Inside were three more members who you could recognize to be Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo and Lee Jihoon. As a fresh junior in the company, the name of every single senior was common knowledge to you. Not only was Seventeen a huge name in the industry, but they were one of the biggest names within the company itself. You'd also spotted their loud interactions throughout the building a few times in the past.
— This was one of the reasons as to why your heart began going a mile a minute the moment you walked in to the room to find the three men (along with Jeonghan and Seungkwan) staring at you with a curious look in their eye.
Bowing at every member, you meep'd out a quick 'hello' and stalked behind Jeonghan, who only chuckled at your shy demeanor, "Don't be shy. They don't bite," he squeezed your hand.
"Uh, Jeonghan? Do you have a hostage?", asked Wonwoo, reaching out to you to shake your free hand in introduction, "Hi, I'm Wonwoo. Sorry about him," he gestured towards Jeonghan with a chuckle.
"Your emotional support toys weren't enough? Upgraded to a human now?", Mingyu joined in, also offering you a handshake, "I saw your group's last comeback. Great job," he praised, offering you a genuine smile.
Jihoon remained silent as he sat with his eyes glued to his equipment, simply humming and nodding along to every statement leaving their lips. He seemed slightly disinterested, but not rude about it. Jihoon appeared more so amused by Jeonghan's shenanigans, not questioning your presence whilst remaining welcoming of it.
"I'm just here to record my part. Jihoon's been nagging me for a week," he whined, moving to drop himself on the couch and pulling you along with him by the hand. Your interlocked hands began to become clammy, but Jeonghan made no move nor mention to fix that, so you simply ignored it too.
"You're mean," said Wonwoo, "Be mindful of your junior, she looks nervous," he scolded lightheartedly, "You okay? Want a water or something? Did he just steal you or is there a story behind this?", he nodded towards your hands, voice soothing your nerves.
They were all overly likable, which made sense considering their decade-long career as idols. Their fan service must be amazing, you thought to yourself.
Before you could respond, Jeonghan interrupted, "I'm borrowing her face for the scanner in the artists' elevator," he explained, "It's an exchange of goods and services, no hostages here," he nodded to himself, "And we're new best friends, clearly," he grinned as he gestured to your hands, squeezing once again.
Seungkwan chuckled, "There'd be no need for that if you just rode with me in the mornings," he rolled his eyes, taking a seat to the other side of you on the couch.
"You get up at four in the morning, I'm not insane," whined Jeonghan, "and this way I get to hang out with my new friend. Win-win."
You gave a tight-lipped smile in response, rolling your eyes at him and earning a chuckle from the other boys in the room.
"You're going to have to let go of her hand to go into the recording room," Jihoon spoke up, turning around on his chair to look at Jeonghan on the couch and chuckling lowly when his reaction was an exaggerated groan.
"I take what I said back; you are a hostage. Don't leave, I'll be right back," he turned to you before heading over to the small recording room located inside the studio.
Laughing, you nodded, settling comfortably on the couch as you watched him from your spot. The other two men who remained standing made their way to the couch sitting near you as Wonwoo handed you a cold water bottle with a smile. Meanwhile, you watched Jeonghan head into the room, making his way to the mic and putting on the large headphones hanging nearby.
With a few coughs to clear his throat, he began harmonizing with the melody Jihoon turned on as soon as he stepped foot in the small room. Jeonghan's voice immediately flowed perfectly with the music, following Jihoon's directions to perfection as he recorded the lines instructed to him. You were completely distracted by the sight of him in his element that you were unable to pay attention to your surroundings. There were no nerves in you at your current predicament when you were so absorbed by him.
But as soon as he started singing, he finished, letting out another loud cough before exiting the room and making his way to your side again, practically demanding your hand once more.
"They were right," he nodded once you gave him your hand, looking down at you from your seat on the couch, "You're my new emotional support object, sorry," he shrugged, helping you up by pulling at your hand.
With goodbyes as quick as your introduction had been, Jeonghan led you to the door before being interrupted by Jihoon speaking up, "Bring her around more often. You were way more efficient and less annoying this time," he hummed to himself, laughing when Seungkwan began to laugh at his statement. Before you could leave, Seungkwan offered you a hug, though your hand remained on Jeonghan's.
Once in the hallway, Jeonghan turned to you and laughed, "They like you," he sing-sang, "Guess I get to keep you around."
"Is it up to me at all?", you huffed half-heartedly.
"Nope. Let's go," he grinned once more, pulling another laugh from you.
Jeonghan's shenanigans and your daily meetings every morning continued very consistently. It was rare when you'd show up at the elevators at the exact same agreed time and not find him there waiting for you with a drink in hand.
Your interactions only grew more and more friendly with time, with you rolling your eyes at him time and time again and him insisting on dragging you with him for other errands every so often. Fortunately, the news of you two being on friendly terms did not seem to go past a few other idols in the building. Strangely enough, it was rare to actually bump into other artists in the vast space that Hybe covered.
Only a few weeks into knowing Jeonghan and the annual Hybe Game Caterers event came up. This was something he brought up occasionally whilst sharing an elevator ride with you — and even through text every so often, as he had charmed you for your phone number just a few days in.
Being Hybe's newest group, you couldn't help the nerves you felt in appearing at Hybe's second ever Game Caterers event. With big names such as Seventeen, BTS, TXT and such, you felt completely out of your league even being present. You knew it was an amazing opportunity to get new audiences interested in your group, but you barely knew any other groups or idols on a personal level. It wasn't as if you could stalk behind Jeonghan during the event, which meant you'd simply have to rely on your own charm in order to gain some screen time.
Jeonghan, in the meantime, insisted you team up with him in any games that may allow for it. Despite your insistence that he pretend not to know you during the event, he'd cackle and promise he'd make sure to gift you some of his own screen time — how? he didn't explain, which made you even more anxious at the idea.
Once the day of the games came, you felt far more relaxed. This was your first time seeing such popular faces so up close, not having had the chance to attend any comeback shows nor award shows at the same time as the bigger names in Kpop. However, despite all nerves you could've felt, they were all far too charismatic, making you realize that Jeonghan's personality was simply an outlier; he had his own charm, but overall he was a menace to your sanity.
He continued to prove this to you throughout the event, constantly keeping his eyes on you and winking any time it was his turn to do something that might entertain you. Unfortunately for yourself, it worked every time, making you cackle at all his dumb acts for your attention.
That was not where he stopped, however. It seemed as if Jeonghan wanted people to know he was seeking out reactions from you. Occasionally, he'd walk over to your group's table, sitting with you all too casually, earning some nervous giggles from your group mates. He played this out by dragging Seungkwan with him and hitting a few other tables afterward. However, you knew his goal had been to be in close proximity with you.
The worst of all had been when teams were assigned randomly, in which Jeonghan had somehow managed to cheat in order to be placed in your team. You were unsure how exactly he had managed to do this, but from your understanding it seemed like his groupmate, Joshua, had gotten assigned to your team, only to be nagged into giving away his spot to Jeonghan.
And so now you stood in a single file line with a red vest laying on your chest, matching with that of Yoon Jeonghan's, who was standing right behind you with a pleased smile on his face.
"Jeonghan," you groaned, turning around to finally acknowledge his presence.
"What?", he feigned dumb, doing his classic cackle at your annoyed expression.
"You really want to ruin my career, don't you?", you scowled, squinting your eyes over the heavy sun shining from behind Jeonghan.
Detecting your discomfort from the sun, Jeonghan grabbed onto your shoulders, side stepping the two of you until it hit his face rather than yours. No word is uttered about his act of kindness as he continued to grin at you in a satisfied manner.
"I'm helping you, c'mon," he tsk'd, "Ever watched Going Seventeen? Well— Okay, don't make that face, I know you've seen it, all of Korea has seen it. I can win you any game and get you all the screen time possible," he held his pinky up to you, nudging you until you budged and intertwined yours with his own, "Then you'll be, uh, what are you, fourth gen?," he waited for your reluctant nod, "Okay, you'll be fourth gen's It Girl," his hand went up to ruffle your hair, earning something akin to a growl from you, "We'll be the inter-generational It Couple."
"Couple?," you tilted your head in wonder, "You're an idiot," you murmured, having a hard time hiding your smile at his masterplan.
"It was bound to happen. This whole 'will they won't they' thing we have going on is too good to pass up on," he continued, "C'mon, let's use today as a test-run," he insisted, earning another annoyed reaction from you, this time in the form of a half-hearted fist bump. With one last 'Eyyy' from him, he turned back around to pay attention to the rules of the following game.
Various games came and went, with some being in co-ed groups and others within your already-established groups, but with all of them (without fail) involving some sort of interaction between you and Jeonghan. Continuously aware of the cameras recording, you worried about how your constant interactions would be taken by audiences once the show was edited and posted, but his easy-going disposition made it difficult for you to actually do anything about it.
By the time the recording was over, Jeonghan had made it clear to all his members and yours (and anyone who was paying attention, really) that he had some sort of interest in you. No words nor statements had been needed as his actions made his intentions extremely obvious. You'd received a few teasing glances from his group mates at times (though you were sure they were probably meant for the man in question), making you shy away from Jeonghan, but he never strayed away for too long.
The aftermath of the show was different for everyone involved. Some groups left for other schedules while others went out for a meal with a few staff members. Then there was Jeonghan, who had decided to skip out on a meal with his friends and staff in order to stalk after you and your own group, not saying a word as he followed you to the entrance of Hybe, disregarding any teasing giggles coming from your groupmates. You'd occasionally look back at him, rolling your eyes at him as you held back an entertained smile.
Even as you got into the elevator, he silently followed with a pleased smile, still not speaking a word to justify his presence. It wasn't until your groupmates got off the elevator that Jeonghan actively tried to catch your attention by physically holding you back from exiting the elevator, waving your friends goodbye for you as the doors closed behind them.
With his arms wrapped around your middle, he practically bear-hugged you in order to keep you from leaving, laughing when you half-heartedly attempted to make it out of his hold in order to escape.
"You don't really wanna leave, stop fighting it," he whined, letting you go when you finally halted your attempts, groaning jokingly at his victory.
"Why'd you kidnap me this time?", you asked once you turned around to face him.
He shrugged, "I dunno. Company? Take us to my floor. I have some ramen and beer stashed away in the dressing room," he coerced, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
"You're bribing me with food again," you noted, crossing your arms as you pretended to mull it over.
"Well, it appears like that's the only way to get you to hang out with me," he booped your nose, giggling when you scowled at him.
"You have that hard of a time getting girls to give you attention?"
"Hah," he exclaimed, "Girls love me. Not my fault the one I'm into needs to be coerced into spending time with me," he said as the most casual statement uttered by man.
He appeared entirely unaffected by his statement, as if this was not news to you. His flirting had gotten more and more blatant throughout the short time you'd known him, but he had never professed his affections so blatantly. It made sense for him to be so forward now that he had shown everyone his clear interest in you, but having the words said to your face still made you lose your breath for a short moment.
"Ah, speechless, huh?", he grinned, "You can't tell me this comes as a surprise to you," he tilted his head to the side in curiosity, "You're a smart girl, c'mon," he took a few short steps to you, hand coming to push your hair out of your face as you continued to stare at him with a semi-shocked look in your face.
Still inside a closed, yet unmoving elevator, you smacked his hand away in a friendly yet bratty matter, making him chuckle, "Stop, you're gonna get me in trouble," you complained.
Stepping even closer to you, he backed you against a wall, the grin on his face never leaving him. Meanwhile, your brain was overriding itself in figuring out how to react. You let him back you against the wall whilst his hands remained to his sides, not actually caging you and allowing you escape if you really wished for it. Leaning down a bit, he stood face to face with you, once again pushing your hair out of your face before running a lone finger down your cheek as he pouted down at you, cooing in a way some may read as condescending, but actually loving coming from someone like Jeonghan.
"You know that if you actually tell me to fuck off, I will, right?" he muttered, eyes fluttering for the first time ever. His eye contact was usually unmatched, but this time his eyes seemed to begin getting hooded; likely due to the proximity of your faces.
"Yes," you nodded quietly, breath caught in your throat.
"And you know if you stop me right now, I won't go through with this, right?", he followed up, face somehow even closer.
"Uh-huh," you nodded again, eyes matching his own hooded ones.
Nodding to himself, he grinned for a split second before closing the gap, soft and slow in his movements as he pressed his lips to your awaiting ones. The kiss was a mere peck at first, lacking any fluidity or movement. It took your reciprocation for it to become something more, as Jeonghan waited for your arms to make their way to his flat chest before he finally put his hands on you, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you to him.
Finally, his lips moved, opening and wrapping around yours, tongue entering your mouth and coaxing yours to play with his own. Soft yet high sighs left his lips as he hummed into your mouth, kissing you in a way far too sensual for an elevator located in your shared workplace.
A large hand went up to your cheek, holding it delicately as he tilted your face upwards in order to gain optimal access to your mouth. Similarly, your hands traveled north, finding their way to his long hair and pulling at it every time he did something particularly enticing with his tongue. Without your hands on his chest, the empty space between you was reduced when he pulled you closer in order to press your chests together, sighing when he felt your hardened nipples through your lack of bra.
Before it could go too far, however, the menace of a man decided to pull away, chuckling when you followed his lips, still in the daze he'd put you in.
"You didn't push me away," he whispered with a breathy laugh, thumb playing with your bottom lip up until you childishly nibbled at it, getting a 'Yah!' from him and another laugh.
"Count your blessings, I still could," you challenged, knowing you did not mean it at all.
"Are you sure?", he leaned close once more, "So you don't want me to do this again?" he murmured as he lightly pressed his lips to yours again, immediately putting you in another daze.
He pulled away even quicker this time around, laughing at the defeated look on your face at your lack of ability to staying true to your word when it concerned him.
"That's what I thought," chuckled Jeonghan, finally putting some decent space between you, "So, ramen and beer?", he asked, holding his hand up as an offer for you to hold it, humming with a smile when you grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.
"Ramen and beer," you agreed, unable to hold back a smile as you stood side by side once again.
"Ever gonna let me take you on a date outside of this place?", asked Jeonghan a few days after that day in the elevator.
No more kissing had occurred between the two of you, though hand holding remained pretty present in your relationship — though that was a strong word to use. His flirting continued to get worse, and so did the attention he gave you around staff and other idols, but he had not kissed you again nor had he done anything you'd expect from someone who had been quite adamant about his intentions with you.
You hadn't questioned it, simply enjoying it when he did things slightly out of your comfort zone in order to demonstrate his interest. Could you be blamed? It was The Yoon Jeonghan who was after you, after all.
But a few days had been more than enough to drive you up a wall.
Spending almost every day in that elevator with him, at such close proximity, — pondering about when the next kiss would be — was driving you insane. It was obvious to you by now that he wanted you to make the first move when it came to that area of your relationship. As far as he was concerned, he'd simply continue to buy you meals and take up your time (and mind) as much as possible.
This was why you completely ignored his initial question and rebutted with your own.
"Date? When are you going to explain that kiss?," you practically defied him, staring him down as he gave you one of his usual satisfied smiles.
"Explain it? I wanted to kiss you, so I did," he shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth before mouth-feeding you one, "If you want more of that, you're going to have to let me take you on a date."
"Jeonghan," you began, "You know we can't do anything outside these walls. If we get spotted, we're fucked," you stated the obvious.
"C'mon, just let me make you dinner in my apartment. I'll even kick Seungkwan out so we can have some privacy," he smirked, hand reaching out to yours in order to try and entice you further.
"Are you propositioning yourself to me?", you smiled at him, mouth open and tongue touching the roof of your mouth in amusement.
"Good, you're catching on," he smirked to himself, taking a short pause to cough as a way to clear his throat, shaking his head and trying again, "I meant as a date. I'm not that crude."
You sighed again, "Fine," you began, rolling your eyes at the way his face suddenly lit up, "but you have to actually make me dinner. If I show up and there's no candlelit dinner on your table, I'm leaving," you threatened jokingly, unable to picture Jeonghan hosting a date so fancy. He pegged you more as the casual date type of guy.
"Candlelit? I can work with that. Wear something pretty for me then," he added as a condition, poking you with his chopstick to emphasize his point, "If I'm making a fancy dinner, then we need to look the part.
"Okay, then wear something other than sweats. I swear I've never seen you wear anything that's not three times your size," you pointed out his usual fashion style, even referring to this moment in which he was wearing an oversized shirt and oversized sweats to match.
"I'll dress up for you, baby, no need to beg," his lips drew up into a smirk that seemed to never leave his lips for too long, putting down his chopsticks in favor of offering you his pinky, "I'll have my driver take us tomorrow after you're done at the company," he said as you linked fingers, pressing his thumb against your own.
"You better not ruin my career, Yoon Jeonghan," left your mouth, though with mere entertainment in your tone.
~
"God, you took it really seriously, didn't you?" you gaped at the dapper Yoon Jeonghan standing in front of you, holding the door open as he reached for your hand in order to let you in.
At the end of the day, your plan had changed a bit, deciding that Jeonghan needed some extra time to get the meal and himself ready for you, and that he wanted you to have time to 'doll yourself up for him' (his words, not yours). And so you went home the following day, took an embarrassing three hours to dress up as pretty as you could — as that strange feminine urge to groom yourself to perfection took over — and had your driver drop you off at the luxury apartment you knew Jeonghan and Seungkwan shared at around 8pm.
The first thing that welcomed you into his home was Jeonghan himself, except he looked very different. You had seen pictures and videos of him dressed to the nines for music videos, awards shows, you name it, but you had never seen the man so insanely put together in the flesh until this moment. Yoon Jeonghan was always a sight to behold, no matter if he was makeup-less and donning a messing man-bun, but the sight in front of you left your mouth agape. He had decided to go for a three-piece suit (too fancy for your taste, but that was likely his intent), chuckling when you rolled your eyes at the bowtie. His makeup was done and his hair beautifully styled. The jury was out on who had out-dressed the other (though it was likely it was Jeonghan).
"Okay, so no bowtie?", he giggled as he closed the door behind you, ripping it off with an ease that was only achievable due to the fact that it was apparently a clip-in and not a real bowtie. As per usual, this caused you to laugh, achieving the goal of its presence.
His hand made its way to your lower back, leading you further into his house as he walked you. It took him an appalling thirty seconds to move closer to you and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked, granting you a moment of full sincerity with zero banter behind it.
You'd chosen to don a red slip dress, with a red lip and winged eyeliner to match. It wasn't too elegant of a look, but it was perfect for either a candlelit dinner or a night clubbing; you went for versatility, unsure of Jeonghan's unpredictable behavior.
Before you could thank him or blush at his comment, you'd completed the short distance to his dining room that had been just one room away from the entrance. The sight made any other reaction from his compliment leave you, distracting you completely.
It wasn't too elegant nor abnormal for a candlelit dinner, but it still surprised you that Jeonghan had actually followed along with what you'd meant as simple banter — he had actually cooked you and amazing-smelling dinner and lit a few candles throughout the room.
"Dude, this is too much," you gaped, turning back to him, only to be trapped by his arms wrapping around your waist. There was a pleased smile on his face at your astonished reaction.
"You challenged me," he said, eyes squinting at you, "You know better than to challenge me," it was said in a serious tone, though fully in jest, "Can I tell you that you look beautiful again, or would that be cheesy?"
"You can say it as many times as you want," you gave into him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, pulling him a little lower in your direction. He accepted this with no complaint, intertwining his own hands around the small of your back.
"God, stop looking at me like that," he groaned at the smile you were giving him as you looked up at him, his hands continuing to run up and down the small of your back, clearly picking it as a favorite part of your body at the moment.
"Why? What are you gonna do about it?", you challenged him.
"It might've taken me two hours and one extinguisher to cook that dinner, but I'd be willing to let it go to waste," he warned, front teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip as he stared you down with defiance in his eyes.
You pouted petulantly at him, giving in to his banter for the nth time, "Oh, so you really were propositioning yourself to me the other day, huh?", you cocked your head to the side, raising your brows in challenging manner, "I thought this was meant to be a date and nothing more?"
His hands tightened around you, pulling you close enough for your chests to rub together, huffing out an annoyed breath, "Believe it or not, I don't have enough ingenious in me to keep this conversation going forever. Are you going to let me kiss you or are you going to force us through a subpar dinner I burnt three separate times?", he whined, chuckling halfway through when you giggled at his statement.
"I'm not stopping you," you murmured, leaning up and rubbing your nose against his own as if to dare him to take action.
Never a man to back away from a challenge, Jeonghan's speech ended there, closing the gap between you as his lips landed on your own with a mixture of sensuality and roughness. Loyal to their fidgeting habits, his hands remained on your hips, fingers squeezing the plush there every so often as you let out tiny breaths into his mouth.
It was embarrassing to count the times you'd thought about kissing him ever since that first time, having it invade your mind more often than not in the short period of time between then and now. The soft sounds he'd made into your mouth and the touches of his hands had been imprinted in you, making you silently and pathetically yearn for more as he continued his usual flirtations. Finally arriving at a point where he finally had you completely alone and with no distance imaginable, you let yourself go into the kiss, hoping it would go further than last time. The circumstances were more than agreeable this time around, anyway.
Seemingly, Jeonghan agreed with your silent pleas, slowly walking you over to the couch located somewhere in the large combination of dining room and living room inside his apartment. No words were exchanged, as they would've interrupted the consistent locking of lips, but your gasp was still registered by him when you suddenly felt yourself dip and be manhandled into lying horizontally on the couch.
Now lying down, it was easy for Jeonghan to truly invade all your senses. Still fully clothed, he laid on top of you, knees settling on both sides of your hips as to not lay his entire weight on you. The locking of lips did not seize, continuing as you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. The cocky man chuckled into your mouth at how insistent you seemed in kissing him, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. He had opted for close-mouthed kisses, making you groan at every silent denial for you to deepen the kiss.
"Stop being a little shit," you groaned when he refused to let your tongue enter his mouth for the nth time.
"You want me sooo bad," he grinned, kissing at your cheek as your eyes rolled once more.
"Are you going to be this annoying when you're inside me?," your head turned to the side, making you be the one to avoid his kisses this time around, but that didn't bode well for the boy.
"Yah," he whined, "It's not fun when you do it. Just let me kiss you," he slurred, repositioning himself slightly to let his hips find the height of your own, finally kissing you how you'd been wanting. He disconnected his lips momentarily just a few seconds after, pushing his hips against yours decidedly, "And, for the record, I'll be everything but annoying while I'm fucking you," he murmured as his last words.
That's when his kiss became intense and decided, exploring every inch of your mouth while his hips chased your own with a passion you did not believe Jeonghan could possess. He'd always seemed like the lazier of his members, like he'd he the type to lay back and unbuckle his pants for whoever was lucky enough to get him in bed. However, he had proved to you time and time again that he was actively interested in pursuing you — especially now as he held onto your legs, wrapping them around his waist to ensure his hardness could hit perfectly against the very thin cloth of the panties under your ridden up dress.
"Fuck, you already feel so good," he rasped, lips finding your neck, "Take this pretty dress off for me, yeah?", he nudged at the strap of your dress with his nose, kissing the bare skin he found there.
With only a nod and a whine from you, he got to business, hands reaching behind your back as you arched it to grant him access, blindly unzipping it and lowering the straps from your arms whilst still laying down. An uncharacteristically low groan left him upon discovering your lack of bra, making him look to you with a pained look in his eye before dipping down to kiss at your breasts.
Nimble fingers graced the length of your arms, creating goosebumps in their wake as they one of them reached your breast while the other squeezed at your hip intermittently. One of your breasts was trapped by his hand, the nipple tortured by his thumb while your other breast suffered through licks and nips from his mouth. Heavy sighs were breathed out against your tit m, mixed with the occasional groan as his hips continued canting onto your own. Your dress was uncomfortably bunching at your middle, but it remained in the back of your mind as Jeonghan occupied the rest of it.
It didn't take long for you to grow frustrated at the lack of nudity demonstrated by the man on top of you. Your hands mindlessly pulled at his suit jacket and began pulling it off, only getting it down to his elbows due to his lack of aid in removing it. Next was his button-up, which you fully unbuttoned as his lips came back up to your own, chuckling at your insistence. Once almost undressing him, he finally disconnected your lips, hastily throwing off his top and unbuttoning his pants. He looked down at you with heavy lids as he pulled his pants low enough to uncover his thighs and remain in nothing but his boxers. Next came your panties, which he slowly traced his the tips of his fingers, toying at your puffy cunt through the fabric long enough for you to release a few tortured whines.
"Jeonghan!", you scolded, getting a snicker from him before he actually aided you in the removal of your panties. Lifting your hips, you silently instructed him to throw off your dress the rest of the way, now fully nude under him.
The last piece of clothing separating you were his boxers, much to your despair. Your ached to reach up to a kneeling Jeonghan who continued to stand almost completely still above you, hand pressing at his cock through the cloth as he peered at you as if he wanted to swallow you whole.
"Are you going to do anything?", you complained from under him, hands attempting to reach his cock but being prevented by him, too occupied in taking you in to allow you to touch him.
"I'm enjoying the sight," he hummed, eyes taking turns between your open legs, damp breasts and desperate eyes, "God, I don't even know where to start," he groaned, sounding genuinely pained.
Pained? You could work with that. Maybe this was your turn to tease him as he always did ti you.
Sitting up as best you could whilst under him, you reached up to him, running your hands from his pelvis to his chest, fingers shyly pinching at his nipples. Your mouth found his neck, licking its way to his ear to nibble at the lobe. Within seconds Jeonghan was putty under you, with one of his hands wrapping around you to pull you closer. You kissed sensually at his ear, whispering unspeakable filth into it that had him groaning. Tilting your head to the side, you took a peak at his face. He had a satisfied yet pained look painting his pretty features. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth agape, hiccuping a groan at your words.
"Should've known you were filthy," he grunted, burying his face in your neck, helping you back into your lying position so he could truly bury himself in you, "It's in your eyes ... Always looked at me like you wanted me to take you right in that elevator," he added, hands coming down to messily rid himself of his boxers.
His hips were leveled with your own, almost touching your cunt but not just yet. Without thinking, you canted your hips upward, managing to get his hardness to grace at your cunt just perfectly. This drew a matching groan from both your lips, making Jeonghan cough halfway through his dirty talk.
"Oh, you're that desperate? Okay, pretty, I'll fuck you. Don't need to beg me so much," he mocked, positioning himself to finally enter you, but unable to help himself in teasing your clit with his tip for a few moments in order to draw just a couple more cries from you. With a chuckle, he finally began entering you, gasping a silent groan at the feeling of finally being enveloped by you.
"God," he grumbled, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure, "Tell me when I can move," he practically pleaded.
"Just move," you whined, "It's already good."
Your green light was all he needed to begin pumping in and out of you, gasping out praise every so often. His hands remained on your hips, squeezing at the skin whenever it felt extra good to fuck into you. Clammy skin and lewd sounds of slapping took up all your senses, making you almost miss Jeonghan's words as he began low rambles into your ear.
"Do you even know how long I've wanted you?", he started, breath heavy against your ear, making you want to bury yourself in his skin, "Always wanted to talk to you, but- fuck- but the guys told me I shouldn't as- as your senior," he stuttered in between groans, "But I couldn't let my chance pass when you helped me that day ... We just clicked," he confessed, groaning loudly when you tightened at his unexpected confession.
"Han ...", you sighed, gripping his shoulders as if your life depended on it, "I, fuck, really?"
He nodded against you, kissing the skin he could reach, "I like you so much, you have no idea," he continued, speeding up his hips, "Tell me you like me back," he whined with a bit of humor in his voice. It was impossible for him to let things become too serious for too long — something you really liked about him.
"I like you, Hannie," you humored him, using the nickname he'd asked you to use all those weeks ago, giggling in between sighs of pleasures when he groaned at it.
"Don't call me that right now, you're so mean," he whined, biting lightly at your skin in defiance, "I'm trying to make this fun for you."
"Then keep fucking me," you insisted, "Hannie," you couldn't help but add with a girlish and exaggerated moan.
"You're provoking me? Really? Again? Okay, brat," he huffed, hands finding the back of your legs to wrap them higher on his waist, ensuring his cock could now piston in and out of you in a way that had your eyes rolling back.
Despite his lazy persona, he was a beast as he fucked you, specially after you'd invoked that bratty side of him that couldn't allow you to out-brat him. It was toe-curling to think about how having you under him provoked this side of him to come out; the side that made him lose all inhibitions and break him down to his most animalistic desires as he fucked you. Any lack of energy was replaced by a stamina that made the slapping of skin so embarrassingly loud you couldn't help but blush. That, combined with his nonexistent shyness in letting out every moan threatening to leave his lips made it the most pleasurable experience for you.
"Sound so pretty ... You're driving me crazy," he grunted in a pained chuckle, "Gonna make me cum ... Fuck, come with me? Yeah, pretty? Need to feel you cum around me before I fill you up," he rambled, hand suddenly sneaking between your bodies and attacking your clit without any warning. You could no longer banter with him, too drunk on the feeling to vocalize anything other than mewls of pleasure.
Jeonghan's hips combined with the feeling of his fingers assaulting your clit were all you needed to lose yourself to your orgasm, almost dragging him down with you as you tightened around him.
"F-fuck, you're cumming? Is it that good, baby? Shit, took it so good for me, hmm?", he continued talking you through it, humming back a groan when you tightened just enough for him to reach his own high, "O-oh, God ... C-cumming, shit. Where?", he was frantic in asking, his gigantic eyes growing two times bigger as he looked to yours for guidance, eyebrows furrowing further at every passing second his orgasm threatened to take him down.
"Inside, H-hannie," you sighed out, mellowing out from your former orgasm. Another whine exited your lips at the breathiest cry leaving the pretty boy above you, whining out desperate praise at the privilege it was to cum inside you. It was likely Jeonghan knew about the birth control idols were usually put under, but his reaction told you he was appreciative nonetheless.
"So fucking good .... God, you're so good, so pretty, so perfect," the praise was endless, making you want to be the sole cause of his pleasure until the end of time.
Once finally emptied out, his energetic persona died out quite quickly, instantly morphing himself to your side as he nudged you aside to make space for him on the couch. Being large enough to fit you both, you snuggled together, Jeonghan nuzzling that pointy nose into your hair as you two regained consciousness. It was amusing how easily he morphed into his usual touchy and lazy persona just seconds after fucking you an inch of your life.
"Hmph," he hummed into your skin, nuzzling so much it seemed he was trying to enter your skin, "You're soft after sex, y'know that?", he thought out loud, leaving mindless kisses behind.
"You're so weird," you huffed, jokingly pushing him away but adoring the warmth that pooled in your heart at his whine in complaint, accompanied by him pulling you even closer.
"Yeah, but you like me weird," he reminded you.
You allowed a beat or two of silence to consume you before turning further toward his side, cuddling into him in as the comfort between lovers after sex invaded the room.
"Did you mean what you said?"
He hummed questioningly, too lost in the comfort to think back to what you meant.
"Did you like me before we met in that elevator?", your voice was meek, reminiscent of those mere five minutes of shyness you felt when you first met Jeonghan, soon overtaken by the natural comfort his presence brought upon such a short time.
"Yeah," he stated simply, "Seungkwan sent me a video of your group covering one of our songs in your debut showcase and I thought you were cute," he chuckled fondly at the memory, "Then I saw you at the company a few times and thought you were the cutest thing," he booped your nose annoyingly, "I wasn't planning on doing anything about it, but like I said, we clicked. You looked shy, but the moment I spoke to you, you were fed up of my shit. I liked that about you," he hummed.
You couldn't help laughing at that, "You liked me because I was rude to you?"
"I mean, it's not often that my juniors speak to me like that. It's always so formal," he blegh'd in an exaggerated manner, "I can't really explained it. It was just a gut feeling, y'know?"
You thought back to how comfortable you felt in his presence that first day, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I know," you smiled as you reached over to find his lips, pecking them sweetly.
"Dinner's probably gone bad by now, by the way," he spoke up after the kiss, guiding your hand to his head for self-indulgent scratches.
"You didn't actually invite me over to have dinner," you reminded him humorously.
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I didn't."
to read short 2.4k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!
content: smut, afab reader, lots of banter with the rest of seventeen, jeonghan is bullied by you and his members, mentions of oppa (only once and in a teasing way), small age gap, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1004 (teaser); 2484 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"You're going to get me in so much tro- Stop!", you couldn't help the girlish squeal that left your mouth at Jeonghan's careless roughhousing.
His hands wouldn't leave your waist, glued to the dip of your waist as he followed you around Seventeen's floor as you attempted to leave.
After the ruse to keep you around for his elevator rides died down, now becoming Jeonghan's official girlfriend (his words), the menacing boy continued to play dumb, insisting that there was just no one else he entrusted with the task of helping him up and down the elevator. It was a dumb inside joke between you, but it made your insides giggle like a madwoman every time you thought about his insistence to keep you around as much as humanly possible, even now as you engaged in a formal and exclusive relationship.
Hanging out with him in the comfort of your group's floor was fine. Your group was a mere few months old, meaning there wasn't too much traffic from other groups or any outsiders there. However, the halls of Seventeen's floor always made you nervous. You always insisted on being behind closed doors when it came to Jeonghan's floor, knowing that Seventeen were incredibly popular, which resulted in their floor of the building being far more trafficked than your own.
As far as you were aware, only your respective groups, managers, and a few staff members were aware of your relationship. Many simply assumed there was something going on, but due to any lack of announcement of your relationship, there was no way to confirm it. That, and the many people who ended up shipping you after the release of Hybe's Game Caterers due to how insistent on sticking by your side Jeonghan had been during recording (damn you, Yoon Jeonghan).
"Bunny, c'mon," he whined, nuzzling his head in your neck as you continued to walk down the hallway, attempting to reach their practice room, "What's the point in dating if I can't even enjoy you at work?", he protested, feet bumping into yours due to the continuous proximity between your bodies.
"Han, if someone catches us-"
"I don't care. You know that," his touches finally halted as soon as you made it to the door, holding it open for you in a classic act of gallantry often displayed by him. It was always unspoken and casual, but you came to learn that Jeonghan was naturally caring for those around him, especially you. Doors were opened, oranges peeled, laces tied, you name it.
"Sure, you don't care," you started, crossing the small dressing room that connected the hallway and the practice room, Jeonghan behind you, "You're like fifty, you've been in the industry forever now. A measly dating rumor with your junior would do nothing to your career. I'd get accused of sleeping my way up and fuck everything up for my members," you argued back, not seriously mad nor argumentative, just continuing the thread of conversation.
Finally in the practice room, Jeonghan gaped at you, amused yet offended, "Fifty?", he gasped, getting the attention of a fellow Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan who just so happened to be sitting by nearby, "You're calling me old? I'm 28!," he insisted, whining at you and pulling at your arm as a child would.
Feigning annoyance, you held in your laugh at his childishness, knowing that this was always the result any time you attempted to tease him back. Before you could retaliate again, you were interrupted by the other men present in the room, having interrupted whatever conversation they were having with Jeonghan's loudness.
"You're the most lethargic man I know," said Chan with complete seriousness in his face, causing Seungkwan to burst laughing.
Dokyeom seemingly compartmentalized out of nowhere, also joining in as he crossed the door you'd just come in from, close enough to have heard the conversation, "Cradle robber," he teased as he walked by, sticking out his tongue at Jeonghan as the elder did it first.
Jeonghan gaped at all four of you, exasperated in his response, "We're like five years apart!," he whined in reference to your age difference, "If I'm lethargic, then what are you?", he yelled, pointing at Seokmin who had already walked away, still grinning in satisfaction at Jeonghan from his side of the room, beginning to join other members in their stretching.
Laughing throughout it all, you relished on Jeonghan's members ganging up on him, knowing it was usually him who teased the others. Ever since your relationship had become official, you spent more and more time around his groupmates — groupmates who found great enjoyment in teasing him over your relationship. You were never the butt of the joke. On the contrary, they'd encourage you to join in, knowing you were Jeonghan's one and only weakness.
Suddenly, Jeonghan turned to you, annoyed scowl on his face, "You! You don't get to join in and mock me. They're insulting your boyfriend, defend me!", he demanded, pouts and whines never leaving him.
You huffed, "Why should I defend you? I'm your junior, oppa," you used that term very strategically, only ever saving it to tease him or make him embarrassed in front of whoever was around.
Seungkwan all but cackled at the way Jeonghan stopped his annoyed rambling with a swiftness, gaping at you with his eyebrows all the way to his hairline. His mouth opened and closed, likely pondering a comeback for you. Within the short time you'd dated, Jeonghan's insistence that you call him by the correct honorific only got worse, but your denials remained. You calling him oppa at this moment meant only one thing to him: You wanted war.
Without further words, he grabbed you by the wrist, ignoring your surprised yelp as he pulled you with him towards the door you'd barely crossed mere minutes ago. Not really fighting him, you stumbled as you trailed behind him, waving a quick bye to his friends while Seungkwan whined at Jeonghan for his sudden exit.
...
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#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt scenarios#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader
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another thing i had in mind for ex husband simon was that this time you're more resistant. no touching, no nicknames that make you weak-kneed, nothing. divorce means divorce, and the wedge that split the two of you up would probably still be there.
fine by simon, he follows the rules to a T. hands to himself, polite greetings and only talks about the children. maybe for a birthday for the boys, he takes the family shopping for gifts since it's a tuesday and there won't be any party or whatever and when y'all come back home, the lights are on.
they'd been off when y'all left. simon quickly opens the middle console and pulls out his weapon and tells you to get in the drivers seat. should anything come running out, pedal to the metal.
a little bit of time passes, you're about to be driven crazy with anxiety but simon finally comes out, except he's empty handed.
comes to the side and opens the driver door. "whoever was in there is gone. probably hopped the back fence. i've already called the guys."
you're a sobbing mess because how dare someone come into your home? your sanctuary? what if-
and you come to a startling realization. what if you and the boys had been here? alone?
simon's looking down at his phone, and furrows his brows. "i gotta go get-" but you don't let him finish, trembling fingers grabbing the front of his shirt. "you cant leave us here. don't leave me alone. don't- just please. stay."
you're too upset to resist his embrace or correct him when he calls you sweetheart. the guys get there eventually, price and gaz waste no time in sweeping the area and you, accompanied by simon, tuck the kids to bed.
price calls it later, that the place seems to be clear. nothing really taken nor left behind. they all leave, johnny and kyle deciding to stay overnight across the street their car and simon also turns to bid you goodnight, except you don't let him.
you practically beg him to stay, that you won't feel safe without him here. the couch won't do because he's too far away, what if whoever that was comes in through the bedroom windows.
you seek comfort in him and in the dead of night, he whispers promises into your ear as he slides home. promises to keep you safe, to keep the kids safe. that he'd let nothing ever happened to you, not while he still lived and breathed.
when you're finally dozing, with his spend drying in between your legs, he grabs his phone and texts johnny that it's done, they can go home now.
johnny responds in seconds, telling him that he tore his very nice jeans jumping that rough hewn fence of theirs and that simon owes him a new pair.
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DELICATE
pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#yandere coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#hunger games x reader#the hunger games#yandere coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow smut
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Ghost thinks he's cracked the code when he gifts Johnny an ultra complicated lego set for Christmas. Something to keep his hands and mind busy for a while.
He's watching, with terror and awe as Soap burns through a 1000+ pieces in an hour, with half a bottle of whiskey in him - drinking more while he's at it. He smiles the whole way through, though - and Ghost gets a tipsy peck on his cheek. Which might or might not have made the whole endeavour worth it.
"Thought that might keep you busy a while longer." he admits later, when he's deep into his own cups.
"Ach, dinnae sound so disappointed Ghostie, not'ing in there tha' can explode. Can work fast and sloppy."
Ghost just spent an hour staring at Johnny's hands and the concentration painted on his face. He knows there was nothing sloppy about that assembly. But he has to admit that compared to Soap's usual jobs, this is bound to be rather calming.
His eyes meet Price's over in another corner of the room. And the message, conveyed by a single raised eyebrow is clear. Ghost is not to add explosives to any gifts, even if it would make Soap very happy.
So naturally the next time - at Johnny's birthday - he slaps down a timer and a fully assembled lego set.
"Better get it done in time Johnny. And no cheating."
The way Soap's face lights up at the implication that there might be a bomb in his birthday gift should be concerning. But all it does is make Ghost wish there actually were some.
Johnny is a good sport about properly disassembling the marzipan compromise inside though. And just to prove he can immediately rebuilds the legos into the other figure they can form - taking a shot every time he has to look at the manual.
And when he carries his way too drunk partner to bed, Ghost vows to apply for Christmas leave. Which is something he hasn't done since...well for a long, long time.
Johnny, being the man that he is, never questions why they are going to spend Christmas in the countryside. A small cottage barely worth the name, as far away from other people as you can get on the Isles.
He just takes the chance to kiss Ghost every chance he gets, enjoying the fact that their isolation means he's getting an unprecedented amount of mask-free Simon.
"Got a surprise for you out in the shed, sweetheart." Ghost whispers when he catches Soap from behind while the man is about to open a bottle.
"Sounds like what a serial killer would say to lure ye into the open."
Ghost decides not to ponder that. With the reality of their jobs that answer... more than he's willing to argue right now.
"Should wait with that until you've had the surprise." he says instead, gently taking the bottle from Soap. Who for the first time frowns.
Ghost relents and they bring the scotch to the shed.
When Soap sees what he cooked up, he whistles low, no need to confirm that what he's seeing is the real deal.
It has taken all of Ghost's knowledge about explosives to craft the abomination. The two lego sets combined with a new third one, 6 sets of cables - all the same colour, and of course a live charge inside.
Johnny goes all still. Stalks closer like he's trying to get the drop on the inanimate object.
Watches it from all sides before turning to Ghost, "Do Ah need to follow protocol?"
His voice clearly tells him he hopes he does not have to. Ghost once again feels vindicated in his choice to move them out here, just pressing the bottle back into Soap's hand with a smile.
If this is what takes them both out then it's already worth it for the unhinged grin it gets him. Johnny's feral joy is infectious, and when he finally steps away raising his hands like he's expecting a crowd to cheer, Ghost honestly couldn't tell you how much time had passed.
He doesn't get a chance to ponder it either because the next second he's tackled by a full grown Scot with a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand and taken clean of his feet.
And if he hadn't already convinced this had been worth it, then the way Johnny makes sure to say thank you certainly is.
They do not make it back to the cottage for a good long while.
(This whole thing was inspired by my dear beloved @dismightyman who's singlehandedly holding it down in the Ghoap trenches with me)
#ghostsoap#soapghost#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#ghoap#my writing#its been a while lads#enjoy another christmas hc#christmas headcanons
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DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)
― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy.
minors dni
PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader
WORDCOUNT― 14.5k
CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.
NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!!
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Avoidance.
That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.
It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities.
The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.
You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life?
The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?
Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world.
For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work.
Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”
You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again.
That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day.
Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you?
Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out?
After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–
You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans.
You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?
You refuse to fucking find out.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
From:...[ [email protected] ]
CC:...[ [email protected] ]
BCC:...
Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.
[insert your name here],
The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines.
Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.
Thank you,
HR
Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.
Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.
The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.
But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.
Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either.
The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle.
Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you.
Maybe you’re still overreacting.
Or maybe you dreamed all of this up.
You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.
And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.
You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?
You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him.
And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.
You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him.
Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him.
Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t.
And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something.
From:...[ [email protected] ]
CC:...
BCC:...
Subject: Mandatory Advising
[insert your name here],
Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late.
Thank you,
Park Sunghoon
Division Manager
000-000-0000 ext. 000
Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously?
You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath.
In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.
So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature.
Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?
“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes.
It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest.
“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk
You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?”
You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath.
“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual.
Not anger. Not disappointment.
He looks worried.
“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.”
You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.
“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.
“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”
You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again.
You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.
“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.
“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor.
“I will reiterate then.”
You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you.
“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”
Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.
“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.”
You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?
“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.”
You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.
So this is it?
So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.
“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation.
“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”
Now you feel a bit…pissed off.
Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?
What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy.
You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.
Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?!
Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it.
Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching.
Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?
“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.
You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office.
“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”
“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”
“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”
“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?”
Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.
Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call.
But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.
Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?
Fuck.
Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both.
And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out.
“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”
Sunghoon raises his hands in defense.
“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”
“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?”
Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.
So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people?
“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”
Oh, he’s actually stuttering.
“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”
In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it.
Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.
But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera.
You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers.
And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.
But you…
You’ve seen him dirty.
Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.
“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”
“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.
Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.
“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky.
There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.
You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”
“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles.
Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?
“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.”
He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues.
“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.”
Silence.
“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”
You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him.
“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance.
His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.
To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too.
Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep.
“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”
“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.”
He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you?
You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.
“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”
More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe.
“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.”
“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated.
You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before.
“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.”
Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?
Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from.
“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll. “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?”
Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further.
“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.”
You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone.
“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”
Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him.
“Maybe.”
You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe.
“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.”
He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion.
“Did you take advantage of me?”
He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself.
“Would I let you do it again…?”
Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?
God, hasn’t he already let you?
“Yes.”
Pause.
“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”
“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose.
“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”
Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off.
Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?
Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you.
He wants you so badly.
“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”
“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”
“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone.
“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow.
“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”
Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?
Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work.
“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it.
“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock.
Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?”
You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder.
Click.
“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”
“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant.
“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain.
“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute.
Far too cute.
“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.”
Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?!
You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.
Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary.
“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”
You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him.
“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.
“No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”
You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt.
You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers.
“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”
A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.
”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”
You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you.
After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.
All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels.
You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—
“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”
Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.
He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this.
In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online?
At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?
Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it.
“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”
The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?
”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound.
He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt.
“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons.
And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you.
If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him.
And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all.
He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt.
There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.
The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.
He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage.
You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper.
“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”
You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself.
His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over.
Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him.
“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”
You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs.
His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to.
You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.
“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants.
He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now.
“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”
Oh. You lost your train of thought.
Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more?
So cute.
He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them.
You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs.
“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly.
Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?”
God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…
You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you.
“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”
You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence.
But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that.
“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth.
You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.
His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this.
But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–
“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.
“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth.
The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to.
A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue.
And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply.
He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks.
It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–
Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier.
He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.
Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple.
He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this.
It feels better than jerking himself off.
“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be.
You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time.
“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”
You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin.
“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”
And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you.
“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”
That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you.
You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans.
He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it.
And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.
“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you.
Oh, his cock. It’s right there.
Oh.
His face–
“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”
You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.
“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”
Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath.
God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.
And not just anyone. His lips.
You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it.
He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you.
And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you.
He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you.
You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”
You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you.
“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now.
You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once.
Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids.
Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you.
“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”
You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.
You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.
It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him.
“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”
You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh.
“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-”
“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”
You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand.
“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.”
You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now.
But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying.
“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”
You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.
So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you.
You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable.
“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”
You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long.
He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base.
“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”
You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing.
You’ve still only given him nothing.
And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp.
“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”
He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.
You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest.
“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them.
Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.
And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.
It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you.
All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair.
The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear.
“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”
Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah.
“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe.
“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”
You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly.
“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.
Quite fuckable, even.
You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly.
“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”
Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls.
You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.
“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”
You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair.
“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you.
“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”
You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him?
Honestly, who gives a fuck?
You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it.
The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips?
That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his.
He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.
So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.
Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him.
“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?”
You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general.
“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth.
“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter.
You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear.
“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.”
You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.
Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.
Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.
There, you look at him. You really look at him.
What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him.
“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”
You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips.
You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.
As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks.
Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants.
You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–
“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”
You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing.
“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”
Oh.
“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.
“Oh–shit.”
It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound.
“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”
“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”
He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it.
To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–
He kisses you.
After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.
He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.
And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety.
You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…
He’s soft. Gentle, almost.
Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking.
You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection.
Intimacy.
And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you.
“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.
It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed.
“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode.
You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice.
“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work. I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–”
Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work.
“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”
“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”
Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.
“Absolutely not?!”
“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?”
Sunghoon stares at you before smiling.
“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”
You lend a half-joke gag at him.
“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”
Sunghoon thinks hard.
“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”
“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”
“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”
“Oh, I’m personal business now?”
“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.”
“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.”
Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?
“Who else has applied?”
“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.”
You pause.
“Why?”
“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”
“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”
You damn fucking right you have.
“How many are still in the running?”
“Two.”
Oh, this job is soooooo yours.
“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”
Oh, he thinks you want him that badly?
“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”
“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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My favorite headcanons for caitvi are ones where they met as kids/teens, by far
Like it's so fucking cute, the idea that Caitlyn would be immediately drawn to Vi due to her curiosity, and Vi can't help but be smitten by Caitlyn's atypical behaviors and willingness to explore new concepts and experiences and ideas.
Just like when they meet as adults in the original universe, their backgrounds should make them incompatible, but there's that inexplicable draw that brings them together.
Imagine Caitlyn tags along with Jayce to his visits in the undercity without telling her parents and can't stop staring at the pink haired girl she sees there at the shop, just hanging around, and they meet eyes, and BOOM, instant connection. Vi also sneaks glances and realizes she's never seen a Piltie girl her age this close before. She wonders if they're all this pretty.
Imagine Vi is sneaking around topside to catch glimpses of Caitlyn, because she feels like she shouldn't be so drawn to a Piltie, but she is anyway.
Imagine one day Caitlyn actually catches sight of Vi across the street as she tries to remain inconspicuous, but Caitlyn would recognize that pink hair in a heartbeat. Imagine she sneaks away from her mother or whoever she's with in order to go talk to her.
"It's you," she says, shy yet bold.
Vi, of course, tries to play it off. "Dunno what you're talking about, topside." But the blush on her cheeks tells another story.
Caitlyn ignores the very obvious attempts at ignorance. "I've been wanting to come visit the shop again, but it's hard for me to find the chance to get away from my mother. She's kind of overprotective."
Vi decides it's best not to play dumb, but can't completely be honest about wanting to see her as well. "You're sure you wanna share about your life with me? Maybe your mom's got a point, shouldn't associate with undercity trash and all."
Caitlyn frowns. "I don't think you're trash. That's silly. Why would you call yourself that?"
Vi is caught a bit off guard. "Isn't that what all you Pilties think of us?"
"I certainly don't." Caitlyn cocks her head as this leaves Vi without a response. "Why are you here, anyway?"
Vi stumbles around in her head for an answer. Shoves her hands in her pockets. Kicks a rock aside. Shrugs. "W-why are YOU talking to me?"
This makes Caitlyn smirk. "I DID say I've been meaning to come back to the shop. What do you think?"
"Dunno. Could want a number of things there." Vi has been staring at the ground but peers up at Caitlyn here. "Give me a hint?" The barest of upturned lips.
This makes Caitlyn break out into a genuine smile that steals Vi's breath a bit. "You're kind of adorable, you know that?"
Vi sputters. "Am NOT."
"Are so." Caitlyn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Can't help but think the girl's freckles compliment her blush well.
Vi rolls her eyes, trying to pretend her brain isn't setting off fireworks. "I don't even know your name."
"Would you like to know it?" Caitlyn says, tilting her head.
"Since you insist on teasing me, I think it's fair."
"But you make it so easy," Caitlyn giggles. "Alright. I'm Caitlyn."
"Caitlyn," Vi breathes. Shakes her head. Clears her throat. Thrusts her hand out, scuffed up palms and knuckles and all. "I'm Vi."
"Vi. Pleasure to meet you." Caitlyn takes her hand without hesitation, notices how rough they feel compared to hers, incredibly intrigued.
"Caitlyn!" A voice calls. The girls both turn. It's her mother.
"Shit." Caitlyn breathes.
This makes Vi laugh, surprised. "Didn't know princesses could use words like that."
"Oh, hush." Caitlyn looks back at her, panicked. "I have to go. I'm sorry." Her eyes shift so they're alight with mischief. She jerks her head towards her mom. "You've got a talent for sneaking around, I assume?"
"And if I do?"
"Wait until we're out of sight. Maybe if you're good enough, you can stay under her radar." Caitlyn smirks. "Maybe you could teach me how to sneak about myself. Could come in handy."
Without giving Vi a chance to respond, she turns away, skirt swishing about.
And if Vi does exactly what Caitlyn says, following her home out of sight, and later taps at the same glass doors of the balcony she sees the girl disappear into after a while of spying, no one is the wiser. She figures she doesn't need to tell Vander what she's been up to just yet.
#caitvi headcanon#arcane#arcane headcanon#arcane thoughts#caitlyn kiramman#caitvi#vi arcane#caitlyn x vi#violyn#arcane league of legends#vi ar#arcane fic#caitvi fic#arcane league of lesbians#league of lesbians
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♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, pillory, elf-reader, orc assailants, war between orcs and elves, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, poor confinement conditions, starvation, piss drinking, cumflation, mindbreak, Stockholm syndrome
♡ FEM reader
The orc camp smells of blood and sweat and other obscenities you and your snooty elven nose fear naming.
They’ve stripped you and your fellow troops of all weaponry and armor—ugly bastards even took your boots! Leaving you in only silken undergarments, standing barefoot in the cold, wet mud.
It’s to make it harder to run away if you were to escape, you suspect. You can’t decide if it’s a clever tactic or simply a cruel one. Either way, it’s the least of your worries... You haven't been fed or given water since yesterday when you were all captured—paired with having been made to march for half the day barefoot, all tied up by your wrists, one behind the other, toed along like animals with mean tugs that had more than one of you falling face first in the mud—who knows how many of you will be able to continue walking when they decide it’s time to start moving again—much less run away if and when the opportunity presents itself—leaving you hopeless if someone doesn’t do something soon.
And it turns out that someone is you.
“Hey!” you yell. Bruised hands gripping the splintered wooden bars of your crudely built prison, glaring at the two brutes standing watch.
They acknowledge your shout, but neither of them gives any reason for you to believe they understood you were talking to them. Looking at you, then at each other.
“Yes, you two, guards!” you make clear.
They continue to look at you, yet don’t make a move.
You sigh exasperatingly—yet with how tired you are, it’s more a full-chested groan unbecoming of a fine elven knight, but under the circumstances, you couldn’t much care.
“I know ungodly monstrosities such as yourselves don’t require much to sustain your foul existence, but elves need food—at the very least water!”
A fellow elf grabs your shoulder gently, saying something under his breath, perhaps in an effort to make you quiet, but you nudge it off and continue your rant in spite of it.
“If you plan to keep us alive—as I would think, given your decision to cage us—I would advise you to meet us with the bare necessities!”
Both guards look away toward another orc—one sitting on a thick log at the mouth of one of the nicer, warmer-looking tents they’d pitched—perhaps the biggest one—sharpening his blade with a rock.
He doesn’t look up from his handiwork but speaks, “The elf is hungry?”
You scowl at the question. “Yes, you oaf—the elf is, in fact, hungry.”
He lifts his blade and looks it over—one side, then the other—before sinking it deep down into the mud. Tossing the rock away, he stands and whistles sharply, prompting the two guards to wander off as if to get something. Meanwhile, what seems to be the commander starts walking towards the prison.
Regret starts to fester as he approaches, and you’re reminded once again why the inferior race best you in battle time and time again despite your obvious intellectual difference. Three cabbage heads taller than you, his weight must be about four or five, maybe even six, times yours—built like a grizzly bear—plus his armor, which easily adds another.
He unlocks the prison, and you step back on instinct.
“Come. You will be fed,” he says, opening the gate wide.
You look behind you—all the other elves have scurried back into the far end of the cage, leaving you alone in your endeavor, which only feels foolish now that you’re sure he’s going to use those blood-dirty hands of his to squish your head clean off your shoulders as soon as you step out.
Even still, maybe by the adrenaline of imminent death or the lightheadedness of starvation, you dare ask, though a little cautiously now, “What’s on the menu?”
The orc snorts—perhaps at your pickiness—finding your resolve to uphold your standards funny, given you weren't in much of a situation to make demands. You could scoff, too—of course, you can't expect an orc to understand anything about standards.
He smirks, answering, “Something to keep warm."
Or perhaps he was laughing for an entirely different matter...
The guards return carrying something. You spot them behind him, trudging loudly in the slop before halting—mounting something close to the firepit.
By the time you understand what it is, it’s already too late. Your hair’s grabbed—as well as your entire skull—taken in one meaty hand, pulled out of the safety of the cage, and shoved harshly down into the wet dirt.
He locks up the gate again as you lie there. And you take your chance to try and run, crawling forward—fighting through the clay, dragging you down. Scrambling for balance, you’ve barely even made it up on your feet once he grabs you again—this time leading you towards the other two standing in wait along the torture device they’ve set up just for you.
You’re lifted to stand atop a crate, making you the right height, then bent over—with your wrist led into each their position as well as your throat, shoved down as the lunette comes down and successfully locks you in place—perfectly trapped in the pillory with no means of escape.
You pull and struggle, toiling against the wooden plates—too late for any such silly thing as regret you can only whimper in short, panicked screams and cries—but it’s no use. The hand comes back and grabs your hair, yanking it tightly, making your neck crane as he forces you to look up despite the fixed position.
He smiles down at the look on your face—watching your tears make clear streaks through the mud, lips wobbly as you begin to beg, “Please—I’m sorry, I’ll—”
“Oh, don’t worry, little elf,” he cuts you off with a coo, grabbing your jaw in his other hand. “You’ll be fed, just like promised.”
Something behind you rips your silk cloth away, baring you. You stiffen all over, breath hitching as useless fists whiten in their restraints. You want to kick, to thrash—but poor balance only results in you choking yourself—and so you’re left to stand there, helpless—bowed and nude before three orcs you’ve angered with your reckless entitlement.
“Mh, pretty elf holes…” one of the guards behind murmurs, cupping your asscheeks and spreading them to take a look, filtering grubby fingers through the crack and lips, rubbing over both holes.
You shake, trying to thwart their efforts. But a gritty pad roughs over your clit and finds purchase below it.
“Stop, stop! Don’t!” you wail, but it pries you apart anyway—wriggling inside your cunt in a brutish shove, it sheathes itself deeply in curiosity to see how much you could fit, eagerly pumping it inside knuckle-deep before pulling back out—then repeating the motion—promptly finger-fucking the tight opening with a digit the size of an average elf’s manhood.
You sob, heaving for breath. Shaking your head in shame as you start to slicken—if just to make it a little more bearable, but the wet noise of it only serves to make you wish they’d killed you instead.
“Shh, elf. Don't cry.” The commander orc in front of you keeps his hold on your hair, talking down to you as he admires your despair. “We’ll give you what you beg for…” He strokes your cheek harshly with the other hand, smearing your tears before moving on to his armored belt.
You whimper as it drops, revealing what must be your newest and truest worst nightmare.
“A warm meal in all your hungry holes.”
The two guards take turns behind you. You can’t see them, but they’ve made themselves more than known—having stretched out both your openings to accommodate their overgrown size.
They seem to like it when you cum—keeping their fat fingers on your clit and always fondling your tits, rubbing your nipples as they fuck your womb deeply until you wet them with your fluids. Your knees gave in a little while ago—their groping now the only thing keeping you upright, and the steady pounding the only thing keeping you awake.
Meanwhile, the commander has his fun with your face. Making you cuddle his heavy ballsack, dousing your face in the rank. With a dagger threatening your pretty eye, he'd coaxed your tongue out to play sooner than you’re proud of—now pliantly hanging from your mouth, licking every foul-tasting patch of his toad-like skin—feeling worse than a beggar eating scraps.
But you ought to thank him. Earlier, he’d tried forcing his length down your throat—making your jaw all but unlock to make room. His cockhead is the size of your fist—in the end, you could only suck on it, only able to satisfy him and his harsh scalp-ripping grip on your hair by prodding his dickhole with your tongue. He started petting you when you did that, making you feel all the more defeated.
His mercy tastes worse than the rancid white you’d been made to swallow. You’d wanted to bite, but the dagger he’d earlier stabbed into the wooden plate for safe-keeping keeps you sweet as you lick and suck the prominent veins running up his fat size—face glazed in sweat and spit, both his and yours.
“Poor elf-bitch…” he jeers while twirling a lock of your fine hair around his crooked finger. “Fed twig all your pretty life—of course, you’re hungry.”
He chuckles, voice hoarse and muted—almost soft, were it not for its gritty timbre. Keeping his cock resting heavy against your face, covering your eye while rubbing the base against your pouty lips.
“A mouthy whore like you needs real cock. Only happy when you’re pounded like meat.” He hums, “In your natural state, pleasing those bigger and stronger than you as a good pet should.”
He laughs louder, rumbles with it enough to shake the ground, then breaks away from you.
“Leave her cunt to me,” he says, folding his arms upon his chest, leaving his heavy cock to swing between muscle-ripped thighs as he leers at the scene. “Prissy elf pussy’s mine to breed.”
One of the guards soon takes up the vacant spot in front of you, putting his leaky tip to your lips in a sloppy kiss before pressing through to fight your throat for space—putting you in an air-tight spitroast—with your ass already being forced to play host for the other intruder, getting your drenched and swollen pussy slapped by a pair of weighty balls on each of his breath-robbing thrusts into your guts.
“A'right, boys,” the commander announces, “Let's stuff her ‘til she’s big and round. 'See if she's still hungry then.”
They both groan and dig in as far as your body allows, bordering on its limits, making you stretch to take them deeper before planting their seed—coming in fast ropes at first, then thicker waves, and finally smaller spurts aided by the shunting of their hips as they rut against you—feeding it to you without rush, one dose after the other, until their balls were all good and empty.
Then they sigh, breathing heavily, waiting for their seed to be settled and swallowed in your bowels before slowly sliding their spent cocks out—letting the overdose spill from your holes as you take a weakened breath and quake in the aftershocks, left hanging in the stand with a body full of orc cum and something else, something that's made your mind feel all funny and flirty.
Then, stomach heavy and warm, hanging with more weight than your breasts—tender and oddly tingly all over—you croon, like a cow, when the commander lifts your hips and eases inside your cunt only a short moment after—starting to pound you softly but deep enough to make your head hang and tongue drip with drool, moaning like an animal in its heat, all silly, like a mating-call, waiting for your womb to be fed with the same warmth.
He cups your buttcheeks with both his thumbs hooked within your ass, and still, he feels you tremble and cum without your clitty being touched—milking him for his spend, begging him with your tongue out in sweet mews. "Bleath, bleath, mathder~"
And although he can't see it from his position, it still makes him smile. “That’s right, dumb little elf-pet. Beg, and you will be fed.”
You clench up and throttle when he finally blows, and the warmth swarms your gushy insides in heavenly goo—leaving you feeling cozy from the inside out—cross-eyed and panting in utter ecstasy.
He also waits—waits until his cum takes root and his cock unswells for a good minute or two before pulling out with a throaty sigh. Then he rounds the pillory, a heavy step at a time, until his lousy and still steaming cock is met face to face with your sweaty flush-cheeked expression.
“Still hungry, elf-girl?” he asks, jostling the sloppy member against your equally drowsy face. “Or was it thirsty?”
He picks your chin up with a hand, holding it steady while watching your half-mast and glazed heart-eyes lazily blink up at him—grinning and humming at the sight.
“Tell me, elf-pet, which of it was it you were whining about?”
Drool spills from your mouth as you answer, speech slurred like a drunken degenerate, “Both~”
He clicks his tongue, “Spoiled.” But he doesn’t seem angry—no, rather pleased. “You’ve been well-fed for now—time to wash it down.”
He lifts his heavy slug and puts the numb tip to your lips, which eagerly parts wide for him to press inside softly, filling the drizzly cavern, cockhead resting neatly on the wet bed of your tongue.
You obediently await it with your eyes locked onto his—both moaning once it comes. Hot and salty-sweet, it pours onto your tongue and sloshes down your throat, spilling from your mouth and somehow splashing all over your face—making you shudder in warm bliss as you gulp it down as if it’s in another class from the aged wine back home.
“Drink, elf-slave. Drink and be grateful,” he instructs, and you obey, allowing the piss-stream to hit the back of your throat where you could glug it all down with minimal spill.
When it stopped, you sucked his tip and tongued the slit like before, cleaning it dry of the last drop, saying, “Thank you—thank you, master.”
Elves never cease to surprise him. Always so prissy—high and mighty creatures—and yet they fall the farthest from grace when pushed.
He had many different ideas on how to make an example of you to the others—cease any ideas they might have of uproar and rebellion. Leave you here for the ogres and trolls to come and have their sloppy seconds. Tie you up by your ankles and drag you behind the horses through all the muck. Let the rest of his troops have at you until you met with your unfortunate end.
But no. He thinks not.
“Let’s move—” he announces to the camp. “Time to take our bounty home.”
After all, for all your whining, you did have a point earlier—you elves are only good to them alive and well. Best get you to the nearest market and sell you.
The guards unfix you from the pillory and start hauling your collapsed form back to the cage.
“No, not her,” he corrects them, thinking of your pretty eyes and soft tongue and that pretty elf cunt that milked him dry like none other. “She rides with me.”
On bearback, he ties your hands around his neck and lets you sleep with your head on his chest, riding backward with your legs draped over his—still naked with your cum-belly leaking out over his saddle—making a mess he’ll have you lick clean later.
“Tell me if you get hungry again, little elf,” he sneers, though a little fondly. “I’ll feed you again.���
And you, despite groggy, with eyes closed, mumble back dumbly, “Thank you, master.”
♡ PART TWO
♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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A Royal Surprise
Max Verstappen x Princess of Wales!Reader
Summary: in which Max 1) forgot to tell his team that he has a girlfriend and 2) forgot to tell his team that the girlfriend in question is the future Queen of England … oops?
One of Red Bull Racing’s PR officers, Leslie, sits in the back of the conference room, her pen poised over her notepad as she listens to the team debrief. It’s a typical Thursday morning, with engineers and drivers discussing the upcoming race weekend. Leslie’s eyes flit between Max Verstappen and his teammate as they offer their insights on car performance and track conditions.
“The balance felt off in turn three during the sim,” Max says, leaning back in his chair. “We might need to adjust the downforce.”
Leslie jots this down, already planning how to phrase it for the press conference later that afternoon. Just another normal day at Red Bull Racing, she thinks.
But then, Max casually adds, “Oh, and by the way, you might see some extra security around this weekend. My girlfriend’s coming to watch the race.”
Leslie’s pen stills. There’s something in Max’s tone that makes her look up sharply.
“Girlfriend?” Christian Horner raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”
Max shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a few months now. We’ve been keeping it quiet.”
Leslie leans forward, her PR senses tingling. “Anyone we know?” She asks, trying to keep her voice casual.
Max’s grin widens. “You could say that. It’s Y/N.”
The room falls silent. Leslie blinks, sure she must have misheard. “I’m sorry, did you say Y/N? As in ...”
“The Princess of Wales, yeah,” Max confirms, as if he’s just mentioned dating a local girl from down the street.
Leslie’s notepad slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound seems to break the spell of silence that’s fallen over the room.
“Max,” Christian says slowly, “are you telling us that you’re dating the future Queen of England?”
Max nods, still looking far too relaxed for someone who’s just dropped a bombshell of international proportions. “That’s right.”
Leslie’s mind is spinning. Images of tabloid headlines and diplomatic incidents flash before her eyes. She stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I need to make some calls,” she says weakly.
But before she can escape, Christian holds up a hand. “Wait, Leslie. We need to handle this carefully. Max, how long has this been going on?”
“About six months,” Max replies. “We met at a charity event in London. Hit it off right away.”
Leslie sinks back into her chair, her head in her hands. “Six months,” she mutters. “You’ve been dating the Princess of Wales for six months, and we’re just finding out now?”
Max has the grace to look a bit sheepish. “We wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. You know how it is with the media.”
Oh, Leslie knows. She knows all too well. “Max,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady, “do you realize what this means? The security implications alone ...”
“It’s all been taken care of,” Max assures her. “The palace has been very discreet.”
Leslie laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to it. “The palace. Of course. Because now we’re dealing with actual palaces.”
Christian clears his throat. “Right. Well, this certainly changes things. Leslie, I think we’re going to need to reschedule the rest of this meeting. Can you get started on a press strategy?”
Leslie nods numbly, her mind already racing with potential scenarios and damage control plans.
As the room begins to clear, Max approaches her. “Leslie? Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
Leslie takes a deep breath. “Max, I appreciate you telling us. But next time you decide to date royalty, maybe give us a heads up a bit sooner?”
Max chuckles. “Sorry about that. If it helps, you’re handling it better than your counterpart at the palace did when you found out.”
“Oh God,” Leslie groans. “I’m going to have to coordinate with the royal PR team, aren’t I?”
“They’re actually pretty cool,” Max says. “A bit stuffy at first, but they loosen up after a while.”
Leslie shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is my life now. Okay, Max, I need you to tell me everything. How did you meet? How have you kept this secret? What are the security arrangements?”
For the next hour, Leslie grills Max on every detail of his relationship with you. She learns about secret rendezvous in Monaco, carefully orchestrated “chance” meetings at public events, and the challenges of dating someone whose every move is scrutinized by the world.
“And you’re sure about this?” Leslie asks finally. “Dating her ... it’s not exactly going to be easy for you.”
Max’s expression softens. “I know. But she’s worth it. We’re worth it.”
Despite her stress, Leslie feels a twinge of sympathy. It can’t be easy, trying to nurture a relationship under such intense pressure.
“Alright,” she sighs. “I’ll do everything I can to make this as smooth as possible. But Max, promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“No more bombshells, okay? My heart can’t take it.”
Max grins. “Well, actually ...”
Leslie’s eyes widen in alarm. “What? What is it now?”
“Her father ... he’s a big F1 fan. He’s been hinting that he’d like to attend a race.”
The room starts to spin. The last thing Leslie hears before everything goes black is Max’s concerned voice saying, “Leslie? Leslie, are you okay?”
When Leslie comes to, she’s lying on the conference room couch, with Max and Christian hovering over her anxiously.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Christian says, relief evident in his voice. “You gave us quite a scare there, Leslie.”
Leslie sits up slowly, her head still spinning. “Please tell me I dreamed all of that,” she mutters.
Max shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Sorry, it’s all real. Are you okay? Should we call a doctor?”
Leslie waves him off. “No, no, I’m fine. Just ... processing.” She takes a deep breath, her PR training kicking in despite her shock. “Okay. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, we need to draft a statement.”
Christian nods. “Good idea. What are you thinking?”
Leslie stands up, pacing as she thinks out loud. “We need to confirm the relationship without making too big a deal of it. Something like ... ‘Red Bull Racing confirms that driver Max Verstappen is in a relationship with Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales. We ask for privacy as they navigate this new chapter.’”
Max frowns. “Isn’t that a bit ... formal?”
Leslie sighs. “Max, you’re dating the future Queen of England. Everything’s going to be a bit formal from now on.”
“She hates that, you know,” Max says softly. “All the formality. It’s why she likes being with me. I treat her like a normal person.”
Leslie pauses in her pacing, struck by the vulnerability in Max’s voice. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
Max nods. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. She’s ... she’s amazing. Smart, funny, kind. When I’m with her, I forget about all the titles and protocol. She’s just ... her.”
Christian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the display of emotion. “That’s all well and good, but we need to think about the bigger picture here. This relationship could have major implications for the team, for Formula 1 as a whole.”
Leslie nods, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll need to coordinate with the palace on all public appearances. Security will need to be completely overhauled. And the media ... oh God, the media is going to have a field day with this.”
“Hey,” Max says, placing a hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. You’re the best in the business, Leslie. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”
Despite her stress, Leslie feels a rush of affection for the young driver. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Now, let’s get back to work. We have a lot to do before this news breaks.”
As they settle back into planning mode, Leslie can’t help but shake her head in disbelief. A Formula 1 driver and a princess. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale or a cheesy romance novel. But as she watches Max’s face light up when he talks about you, she realizes that sometimes, reality is stranger — and more romantic — than fiction.
“Oh, and Leslie?” Max adds as they’re wrapping up. “About the King wanting to attend a race ...”
Leslie holds up a hand. “One crisis at a time, Max. Let’s get through announcing your relationship before we start planning any more royal visits to the paddock, okay?”
Max grins. “Fair enough. But just so you know, he’s particularly interested in the British Grand Prix. Says it would be ‘jolly good fun’ to present the trophies.”
Leslie closes her eyes, already imagining the logistical nightmare. “Max, I swear, if you’re joking ...”
“Would I joke about something like this?” Max asks innocently.
Leslie looks at him for a long moment, then turns to Christian. “I’m going to need a raise. And possibly a personal team of therapists.”
Christian chuckles. “I think that can be arranged. Welcome to the new era of Red Bull Racing. It’s going to be an interesting ride.”
As Leslie gathers her notes and prepares to face the whirlwind that’s about to engulf them all, she can’t help but smile slightly. It’s going to be challenging, stressful, and probably more than a little crazy. But as she watches Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your name, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might all be worth it in the end.
After all, who doesn’t love a good fairy tale?
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!
a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷
tags: 18+ smut nsfw!
vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.
and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.
"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.
"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.
this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.
"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."
valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.
"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.
and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."
the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.
"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.
"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."
#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor smut#alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox
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no nut november ⎜q.hughes
pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜angst? warnings: no nut november ⎜teasing ⎜ mentions of a bet/deal ⎜mention of sharing sex life ⎜fingering ⎜light dirty talk ⎜quinn second guessing his life choices ⎜ masturbation ⎜finger sucking ⎜insecure reader⎜hints at breaking up ⎜p in v ⎜ swearing ⎜praise ⎜no protection (please wrap it before you tap it)⎜ synopsis: quinn makes a deal with his brothers - he never realised how hard this would be for the both of you. word count: 3.8k authors note: Quinn was the clear winner of my poll to decide who would star in this fic - so I hope all 39.6% of you enjoy. do we want a sequel? called dicked down december
(unedited)
DAY ONE
Quinn was only one day in and he already knew he wasn’t going to make it through the month. He knew now that he should’ve never let Jack drag him into the deal that most of the New Jersey Devils participated in every year - the winner coming out with a donation to the charity of their choice and the ability to pronounce themselves as “not whipped” by their girlfriends.
But Quinn was very much whipped.
Your whip was so tight around him, he could barely breathe as he watched you wander around the house in just your towel, grabbing your clothes fresh out of the dryer for the game later today. Quinn’s fingers twitched at his sides, as he resists the urge to reach out for you - knowing the only way he was going to get through this month was going to be by avoiding touching you at any and all costs. He wanted nothing more than to abandon this ridiculous bet and wrap his arms around you, pulling that towel away inch by inch. Every day, this month-long challenge to abstain from any intimate contact with you felt like it was going to kill him.
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as you glanced over your shoulder and flashed him a teasing smile. You knew exactly what you were doing to him - you had to know.
But how did you know? He certainly didn’t tell you, and he made his brothers swear to secrecy.
Quinn's gaze was glued to you, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. He tried to focus on anything else, on his suit laid out on the bed, or on his phone buzzing in his sweatpants pocket. Anything but the sway of your hips as you walk down the hallway - or the hinting smile you send him as you reach the doorway to the bedroom, inviting him to follow you.
The sight of you, so effortless and beautiful, had his mind completely tangled.
"You okay there, babe?” you asked, clearly confused by his discomfort and unwillingness to trail behind you. He nods his head with a tight smile as you shrug and disappear from sight, Quinn letting out a long groan as he rubs his hands down his face - cursing his brothers in his mind for what they are doing to him.
“One day down” he whispers, exhaling slowly. “Only twenty-nine more to go.”
+
+
DAY FIFTEEN
“One of you two must’ve told her something.” Quinn sneers at his phone.
“We didn’t tell her anything, I swear on my life.” Luke retorts, making the sound of Jack’s laughter ring even louder in his ear, as Quinn waves goodbye to some of his teammates leaving the rink after practice - Quinn’s frown deepens as Jack tries to compose himself, only to laugh even harder as soon as he calms down.
“Maybe she figured it out on her own.” Jack suggests one his laughing finally dies down, a few chuckles spilling out before he lets out a grunt of pain, presumably caused by the youngest of the brothers.
“Well she knows something - she’s never been like this before.” Quinn sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, a habit that’s becoming far more common since the month began. “She’s ravenous, any chance she gets she’s trying to take my pants off.” Quinn’s words set his younger brother off again.
“Look we promise we didn’t say anything to her - but maybe you should.” Luke suggests softly, the sound of Jack’s laugh quieting in the background as Quinn assumes his youngest brother walks away from the noise. “I’m sure she’d try to take things easier on you if you told her what you were doing - it’s for charity.” Luke voice is hopeful but Quinn knows that he’s wrong - his girlfriend would rather sell her soul then help him win a bet with his idiot brothers.
“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” Quinn says into the phone before hanging up not waiting for his brother to respond. Quinn makes his short journey home - his apartment only a five minute drive from the arena, the apartment almost silent when he walks through the door - Quinn surprised not to see you perched on the couch like you usually are.
The small muffled whimper coming from down the hall catching him even more by surprise.
“Babe?” He calls out into the apartment, sliding off his shoes at the front door, placing his keys on their hook besides the front door. He waits for a moment, another whimper cutting through the silence. Quinn takes slow, quiet steps down the hallway, your soft sounds getting louder as he reaches the closed bedroom door - the softer whisper of his name giving him pause.
“Baby? Are you okay in there?” He calls through the door, knowing that opening the door right now might be a mistake, but he can’t help his hand turning the door handle, peeking through the small gap as the door swings open.
Quinn can feel his mouth drop open as he watches your fingers slip inside of you so easily. Your legs falling further open against the mattress as you let out a long sigh, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Fuck.” Quinn curses under his breath as head shooting up at the interruption, your legs snapping closed your hand trapped in between them.
“Quinn? When did you get home?” You question as your cheeks burn a bright red, pulling yourself into a sitting up position slowly sliding your hand out from between your legs - your shirt falling from where it was bunched against your waist to cover you a little more.
Quinn opens his mouth to speak but clamps it shut against as he sees you reaching for the towel besides the bed, his body moving faster then his brain as he steps forwards, his hand clamping around your wrist as he pauses your motions, glancing down at the sheen of liquid on your fingers. Quinn smiles as you try to yank your hand from his grasp, your whole body freezing as he raises your soaked fingers to his mouth - sucking them clean, a loud hum resonating from his throat.
“What the fuck?” You whisper as he releases your wrist, letting the hand fall limply besides you as he lunges forwards, his hand clasping either side of your head as he attaches his lips to yours - the taste of yourself still fresh in his mouth. Quinn pulls away first, his hand knotting in your hair as he pants over your, your hands desperately clinging to the sides of his shirt.
“No, wait.” You whine as he moves to pull away, pushing the hair off your face as his eyes lock with yours. “Why are you stopping?” His thumbs stroke your cheeks gently as a small pout forms on your face, Quinn smiling as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips before pulling away from you completely.
“I just can’t right now.” Is all he gives you before he turns quickly and leaves the room - leaving you sitting on the mattress with burning skin and a throbbing pussy, the anger bubbling under the surface. You huff as you bed down, pulling your pyjama pants back on before marching into the living room behind your boyfriend.
“What do you mean, you just can’t?” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him flop onto the couch, his face pushed into the cushions as he lets out a sigh. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You ask, the room suddenly feeling colder as a shiver racks your body, your arms pulling tighter against yourself.
“No.” Quinn groans against the pillow.
“Really? Cause it seems like I’m the problem - Quinn I’ve been throwing myself at you and you don’t even look at me anymore.” You don’t mean for your voice to tremble when you speak but you can’t help the growing lump in your throat. “I just want you to be honest with me, if this isn’t something you want anymore.”
Quinn’s head shoots up from the pillow - his body scrambling off the lounge to make his way to you, your body stepping away from him as you hands wipe at your face. “I’m not going to be mad if you do want to brea—”
“Don’t finish that fucking sentence.” Quinn hisses, his hands reaching out for yours, forcing you to uncross the arms against your chest. “What on earth would make you think that I want to break up with you?” He questions, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses across your knuckles.
“Are you kidding me?” You respond, a cold laugh leaving you before you add, “You’ve wanted nothing to do with me over the last two weeks - every time I try, you run away like you’ve been burned and not to mention you’ve been sleeping in the guest room. I never thought that I was so bad you couldn’t even share a bed with me.” Quinn flinches at the shaky breath you let out, the small hiccup as you try to hold back your tears.
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it, Quinn because I’m really fucking confused.”
“Jack and Luke convinced me to—” Quinn pauses as he watches your head tilt in confusion - your mind racing a million miles an hour as he tries to figure out how to word this right, but falling short as he blurts out. “It’s because of no nut November.”
A flicker of surprise crosses your face before a look of incredulous amusement takes over. You blink at him, as though waiting for the punchline.
“Wait, that's why you’ve been avoiding me? Because of… some dumb challenge?” You try to hold back a laugh, but a snort slips out anyway. Quinn’s cheeks flush, his gaze dropping as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.
“It’s not dumb. It’s for charity—Jack and Luke both dared me, and if I finish the month, we’re each donating a bunch of money to the children's hospital.” His voice grows defensive, though he’s clearly embarrassed. “I just… I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”
You raise an eyebrow, unable to resist. “Literally or figuratively?”
“Both!” he bursts out, letting out a frustrated sigh as he flops back down onto the couch. “You have no idea how hard this has been… and every time I see you—” He cuts himself off, cheeks going even redder, which only makes you chuckle harder.
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, crossing your arms. “So you’ve been turning me down, not because you’re mad at me, but because of a bet?” Quinn grimaces, looking up at you with guilt in his eyes.
“Yes. I know it’s dumb, but I didn’t want you to feel bad. I thought I could just… tough it out without saying anything.”
You sigh, feeling a mix of relief and exasperation. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone so stupid”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing his temples. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. It’s just… Jack and Luke won’t let me hear the end of it if I quit now. They’d never let me live it down.”
You roll your eyes, moving closer to him on the couch. “Well, maybe I can make this month even harder on you,” you say, grinning as you trail a finger along his jawline.
His eyes widen, and he gulps. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. You’ve already put me through two weeks of this. You think I’m not going to make you work for it?”
He groans, dropping his head into his hands. “This is going to be the longest month of my life.”
You laugh, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before taking up ridiculous bets with your brothers.”
Quinn pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s worth it. For the kids.”
+
+
DAY THIRTY
“I can’t take this anymore” Quinn sighs as he watches you waltz around the room in your underwear, the sunflower yellow matching set the same he had picked out earlier in the year for your birthday. You shoot him a grin over his shoulder as you pull on the mid length dress, saving Quinn from drooling over your ass for any longer.
“It’s the last day Quinn, think of the children.” You coo, adjusting each breast to sit more comfortably in the dress, Quinn letting out a long whine as his threads his fingers through his hair pulling on the roots.
“Fuck the kids.” He grumbles, a surprised laugh escaping you as you make your way over to him - his hands instantly grabbing hold of your hips pulling you between his legs. His forehead dipping to leans against your stomach, your fingers gently playing with the ends of his curled hair.
“Quinn, if you can make it to midnight, then I promise it’ll be worth your while.” You promise, your hands smoothing down the back of his head and dipping under the collar of his dress shirt, rubbing soft circles against his back. “And with the jackpot combined that’s almost fifty thousand for the children’s hospital palliative care unit. That’s so special, Quinn.”
Quinn groans, his grip tightening on your hips, as he pulls you closer. “I know, I know… you’re right.” He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes smoldering with barely contained desire. “But you’re not making it any easier for me.”
You chuckle, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Just a few more hours. Then I’m all yours.”
Quinn sighs, releasing you reluctantly, his hands sliding down your waist before finally letting go. He leans back in his chair, watching as you smooth out the dress and adjust your hair in the mirror. The way he looks at you sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation for what’s to come once this night is over.
"Fine," he relents, his voice low and gruff. "But I’m holding you to that promise."
You grin, blowing him a playful kiss before grabbing your purse and heading towards the door. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Hughes.”
As you both step out, ready to put on smiles and charm for the last fundraiser of the year, you can feel Quinn’s hand settle on the small of your back, a silent reminder of everything waiting between you once the clock strikes midnight.
Quinn could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket for most of the evening, his brothers and their teammates admitting defeat and wishing Quinn congratulations - his hand tight in yours the whole evening as he watches the clock in the corner of the room, each tick of the hour hand building his anticipation.
“Quinn you need to actually pay attention.” You hiss in his ear, his fingers squeezing yours as the clock ticks to eleven thirty pm.
“I’d be able to pay attention if I could think of anything other then how good it’s gonna feel when I can finally put my dick inside you again.” Quinn leans his head down, his lips pressing to your ears as he whispers - your gaze instantly shooting around to see if anyone had heard what he said. “I hope you’re not attached to that matching set, baby.” He grins as he pulls away from you, the Quinn from the past month quickly replaced by a man you hadn’t seen in a while.
“Hey, we’re going to head off, she’s not feeling too well.” Quinn whispers to the table as the speeches conclude - his teammates immediately wishing you well, as Quinn collects your purse and coat, dragging you from the ballroom hall in haste. Quinn makes quick work of the drive home - not even glancing in your direction as he fidgets in his seat, his hand clamped against the inside of your thigh, his other hand tapping against the steering wheel as he makes his way through the streets of Vancouver.
“Five minutes, I can do this.” He mumbles to himself, as he races around the car, pulling the door open for you, offering his hand as you slide out of the car. The two of you taking the longest journey of Quinn’s life to the apartment, the tension rising to a boil as the front door clicks shut - Quinn’s pupils blown out as he glances at the clock.
“One minute.” He whispers, your hands making quick work of your heels as you strip them off your feet, a bright grin on your face as you tug on the hem of your dress, pulling it up inch by inch as you watch Quinn, who watches the clock. You pull the soft fabric over your head just as the clock ticks to midnight, Quinn’s eyes shooting over to yours.
“I did it.” He says in disbelief.
“You did it.” You confirm, leaning against the front door as you fiddle with the band on your underwear. “Now fuck me.” Quinn doesn’t waste time, his hands pushing you hard against the door as his lips capture yours, the two of your breathless in seconds, as his lips leave yours to press soft kisses down your jaw.
“I don’t know how long I’ll last.” He admits, a groan escaping him as you run your fingers against his scalp, his lips dipping to your collarbones before making their way back up. “God, you’re just so fucking gorgeous.” He says against your skin, your hands gripping his face to pull it away from your neck for a moment.
“Let’s make this quick then, cap.” You says as you press a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out from between his body and the door, sprawling yourself against the couch your legs opened wide in invitation. “Clothes off.” You murmur as he stumbles over to the couch - Quinn nodding his head vigorously as he strips himself of his shirt, pausing to watch as you tug on the front clasp of your bra, the two cups springing away from each other as your breasts tumble free.
“I think I’ve been blessed by angels.” He says as his mouth falls open a little, his fingers fumbling on the button of his pants, finally letting out a sharp curse as he yanks at the pants, his button popping off and hitting the floor with a clattering sound. “I’ll fix them later.” He says, kicking the trousers off his legs as he dives towards you on the couch.
You let out a soft moan as Quinn attaches his lips to your left nipple, his free hand grabbing hold of the right breast as kneads it slowly, before switching sides, your legs wrapping around his waist as you whisper - “God, please.”
“My name is Quinn, and I expect you to use it.” He retorts, a wicked grin on his face as his finger tickle their way down to the waistband of your underwear, slowly slipping them down your legs and throwing them to the side - your pussy glistening as he sits back on his heels, glancing down at you.
“What’re you doing?” You hiss.
“Admiring the view.” He admits, his body jolting forwards as you use your legs to tug him back down towards you.
“Well stop admiring and put your dick in me.” Quinns hands move faster now, his lips finding their way back to yours as he fumbles to strip off his underwear, his body slotting easily against yours as his hand guides himself to your entrance.
“It’s as perfect as I remember.” Quinn says as he slowly pushes inside, a sigh of relief leaving you at the feeling of him after thirty long days. “God, your pussy is so perfect.” He groans, his hips slowly starting to rock back and forth, your arms thrown around his neck as you hold him to you as tightly as possible - his lips pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks as you let out a quiet whine.
“It’s made for me.” He continues, his hands finding purchase against your waist gripping tightly as his motions speed up, his thrusts heavier as he pulls himself into a kneeling position, your arms loosening around his neck grabbing hold of the cushion beneath you.
“Quinn, shit.” You hum, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as your throw your head back, his thumb rising to your mouth, your lips softly parting as he dips it into your mouth your tongue swirling around the digit before he pulls it back out - rubbing gently against your clit.
“Fuck, I’m so close.” Quinn moans, his thrusts becoming more erratic, your hand letting go of the cushion to grip his jaw - pulling his face down to yours.
“It’s okay.” You whisper against his lips, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw before adding, “Come for me, Quinn.” His movements halt, his hands leaving you to plant above your head as he lets out a low groan, your legs holding him against your as he whispers soft praise in your ear.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He apologises as his body falls against yours, your arms wrapping around him as you chuckle into his hair, pressing a kiss against his forehead.
“It’s okay.” You mumble, your fatigue already setting in as you try to yank the blanket off the back of the couch. “Let’s just stay here for a while.” Quinn humming in quick agreement as he settles against your chest, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair as your hands rub against his bare skin.
“We didn’t use protection.” He notes, his dick softening inside of you, the bare feeling something new for the both of you.
“We can figure that out later.” You admit, surprised that neither of you had thought to grab a condom before leaving for the event earlier tonight.
“I’ll go to the pharmacy in the morning for you.” Quinn murmurs, his words softer as his body relaxes against yours. “I’ll make this up to you.” He adds.
“Quinn, really it’s okay… It’s been a long month for you.” You chuckle, Quinn huffing against your chest in agreement. “Well we’ve got the whole of December to make up for it.” You add, pressing one more kiss to his head before settling into your boyfriends embrace, your legs wrapped around him until the early morning, when he drags himself away from you starting the bath and pulling you away from the couch in a half asleep daze.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers in your ear as he insists you go to the toilet before sliding into the enjoyably hot water, Quinn sliding into the bath behind you.
“Thank you, for being patient with me.” He says against your skin, your body melting against his in the soapy water.
“Just promise you won’t do it again.”
“Deal.”
#nhl#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl x reader#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes fanfic#no nut novemeber
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