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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 3 months ago

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Troublemaker - C.SC

🚨Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🚨What: Gang au, smut, gang boss Seungcheol, gang member reader, angst, humour(low key crackish) and some fluff to top it all off. 🚨Wordcount: 15.9k 🚨Warnings: Do not take anything I write about police/law seriously, I don’t know shit about anything, okay. Reader is unhinged and shameless(and emotionally incompetent). Gang typical stuff; violence, drugs, alcohol, prostitution, theft etc. Handcuffs. Profanity. Degrading names. Unprotected sex, hair pulling, oral(both), multiple sex scenes/positions, breeding kink, choking, multiple orgasms, clit slapping, marking and potentially other fun things I’m likely forgetting about.

Summary: You're known for being able to get your hands on anything you want; drugs, weapons, money, cars. Except your boss, he's always been a little out of your reach, until the day you have him handcuffed in the backseat.

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- the image of Seungcheol on his knees with his hands behind his head getting arrested popped into my head and spawned this and i am not okay This story well and truly ran away from me, I cannot be held accountable for this shitshow. I planned a quick lil smut thing and then the fluff and angst appeared and here we are.

It's a beautiful sight to pull up to; the Choi Seungcheol on his knees, thick thighs spread wide with his fingers lacing together behind his head, biceps bulging in his plain white t-shirt. The same Choi Seungcheol who for the past four years has been running the most cunning, slippery gang that has graced the city in decades.

Local law enforcement has been trying to get their mitts on him since before he even started the gang, but Seungcheol is smart, he's always made sure to keep his hands squeaky clean.

Which is why when you heard the news come through on your police scanner that he's been spotted with some real nasty fuckers and this is the chance to get him cuffed, you wanted to get there asap to witness and join the scene.

Who wouldn't want to have the pleasure of slapping some cuffs on Choi Seungcheol and shove him around a little, afterall?

"What did you get him for?" You ask as you approach the scene with nothing but confidence, thumbs hooked into your belt casually.

Seungcheol glances over at you and his jaw tightens with how hard he clenches his teeth; he takes you in from head to toe, dressed in uniform so crisp it's like you've just pulled it on. You have. He doesn't look impressed.

"Probable cause," the young, over-eager cop getting ready to handcuff Seungcheol informs, sounding almost proud while his partner keeps his gun pointed firmly at Seungcheol's head.

Seungcheol isn't stupid, reckless at times, yeah; he's been known to get pretty injured and take some big risks with his own body in order to get what he wants, but even he wouldn't risk making a move in front of a trigger-happy rookie-cop.

"Oh, you fucking idiots," you laugh, walking over to snatch the cuffs into your own hold.

"What the fuck?" The younger cop baulks dumbstruck. "Who the fuck are you to just-"

"You really think you're going to get brownie points with the Captain by brining him Choi Seungcheol with no solid fucking cause? You think you can just put the guy in cuffs and the rest will follow? You're fucking stupid, kid,"

"But we caught him,"

"Yeah and you know what his legal team is like? You're fucking lucky I turned up,"

"Why?"

"Because I'm willing to take him off your hands and deal with it myself. I've had my eye on Choi for fucking years, boys; I've got quite the file on him. What have you got?"

Admittedly, you take a hell of a lot of joy in grabbing Seungcheol's right forearm to force it down and around to his lower back where you can secure the cuff around his wrist. He grunts at the unexpected force yet doesn't fight you, just clenches his jaw tighter.

"That's a good boy," you whisper into his ear while the two cops exchange lost, almost torn expressions as they attempt to silently communicate with one another what to do.

Clearly, they don't want to just hand the man over to you but you're right; they don't have shit on Seungcheol and it would only cause them a lot of hassle to arrest him. He's too smart to talk, even in holding and would just stare darkly at them, not moving a muscle until he's released. It happened before, once, over a year ago and his legal team tore apart the station so thoroughly that the cops who arrested him had to resign and get minimum wage jobs despite being the best the precinct had to offer.

Once you've got Seungcheol securely in the cuffs, you grab his bicep and appreciatively squeeze it as you tug on him to signal him up. You have to bite back your pleased grin at the powerful man listening to your silent orders and obediently getting up. He glares at you over his shoulder.

"You boys better get back to your patrol before you get demoted," you warn, shoving Seungcheol towards your car. He stumbles a little and glares at you again but you ignore it to reach past him and open the back door.

Seungcheol swears and mutters under his breath when you roughly push his head down and urge him into the back of the car. He almost falls flat on his face onto the cheap imitation-leather seats. You shut the door before his colourful language cussing you out, spills out any further.

"What?" You ask the two young men still watching you dumbly. "I know, my ass looks great in these," you smirk smugly to yourself and smack your own ass making both men jump at the loud, sudden sound.

"Yeah," the younger agrees mindlessly, eyes now glued to your ass as you open the driver's door.

"Idiot," his partner hisses, backhanding him. "Don't fucking agree, now she's gonna report you for sexual harrassment!"

"She started it!"

While the pair are arguing, you take the chance to climb into your car and drive off with a pleased little cackle at causing the most chaos you could with so little to work with.

At the end of the street, Seungcheol kicks the back of your seat. You don't need to look at him to know he's glaring at you, you can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your face. You love it.

"Now now, Mr Choi, please respect my car," he kicks the seat again making you snicker. "So ungrateful, I just saved you from being locked in an interrogation room for 24 hours. You'd think you'd be at least a little appreciative."

"Like fuck am I," he grunts and shuffles closer to the criss cross of bars separating the two halves of the car. "Didn't have to be so fucking rough, you bitch." You lift your eyes to the rearview mirror to meet his gaze and grin smugly at him before returning your gaze to the road in front of you. "Sick fuck, you get off on it, don't you?"

"Damn right," you confirm shamelessly with an almost twisted smirk. "Big boss man on his knees for ickle ol' me. Gets me all warm and tingly, Cheolie."

"How many times have I got to tell you not to fucking call me that?" He's too close to the front seats to kick them again but he does knee the back of yours where his legs are spread as wide as possible in his pale ripped jeans to allow him so close.

Fuck, you wish you could see his thighs right now. You quickly look over at him to test your range of sight but the fucking seats are in the way. Dammit.

You sigh and turn back to the road forlornly. "Well, maybe if you ever punish me like you claim you will and then never stick to it, I might learn my lesson."

"You'd fucking like it," he grumbles. You just grin. Yeah, you definitely would. "Pull over and uncuff me."

"Nope."

"I'm warning you, little one,"

"Pretty sure I'm the one in charge here," you chirp, unaffected by his low, warning tone. Though a second later you're choking on a laugh when his body jerks forward due to you suddenly breaking to join the queue of traffic at a red light. Seungcheol's forehead slams into the grate making him swear harshly. "Oops," you offer with false innocence and a big grin.

"You fucking-" he starts harshly, only to cut off when you pull away rapidly at the green light, sending him toppling back in the seats and cutting off with a surprised sound. You don't stop yourself from laughing that time.

"Now, here's what's gonna happen, Cheolie," you declare when you turn around in your seat to look at where the big gang boss is sitting quietly in the back seat, hands still cuffed behind him between his thick body and the backrest. His thick legs spread with his slouched position.

Man, he's so fucking thick. You know it's true all over his body. You've conveniently walked in on him fucking enough people to know that the man's blessed with a diabolically thick cock too.

Not forgetting the memorable time he didn't notice your very obvious spy camera in his bedroom for a full two months. For two glorious months you got to watch him wrap a hand around his cock and cum over his chest in live action and automatically recorded for your rewatch pleasure.

You've never been more glad that he has a strict policy of not taking anyone to his home to fuck, you quite enjoyed his solo sessions and still watch them regularly.

In fact, you had been watching one while spread over your own bed when the scanner had caught your attention. You didn't even have the chance to clean up, your thighs are still sticky. But that could also just be from having Seungcheol in handcuffs.

"You happened to interrupt my favourite hobby by almost getting arrested and making me come to your rescue."

"If you say you were watching those fucking videos again-" he starts.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't increase your security and make it harder for me to put up new cameras."

"I did that so I don't have your perverted ass watching me in my private spaces!" He barks. "I swear, one day I'm going to actually choke you,"

"Do it," the sparkle in your eyes makes Seungcheol groan in frustration and tip his head back, eyes closing as he prays to a god he doesn't believe in for strength to handle you and your endless depravities. "Question,"

"What?" He sighs and lifts his head to look at you resignedly. After knowing you for so many years, he knows it's just easier to play along unless he wants to deal with you badgering him for the rest of the day.

"Would you use your hands to choke me?"

"What else?"

"Your thighs-"

"Shut up," he groans and pushes himself further upright. "Can you go a single day without making a remark about my thighs?"

"No. Can you crush my head between them like you did that watermelon?"

"I should've never done that. I thought playing along would make you shut the fuck up asking but no, you're even worse."

"I appreciate art and those thighs, Choi Seungcheol are pure fucking art."

"We have very different definitions of art," he deadpans.

"Yes, I know," you roll your eyes. "You like silicone and spray tan,"

"Do I?" He raises an amused eyebrow at you when you look at him suspiciously.

"Every woman I've seen you fuck are more silicone than my dildo collection."

"Not gonna comment on the collection," he mutters, looking more like he's convincing himself that his curiosity at how extensive your collection may be is not worth actually engaging you in a discussion about your sex life, which he knows heavily involves masturbating to those videos of him masturbating.

"Do you want to see?" You offer brightly. "I have one that I think could compare to your cock," your gaze drops down to his crotch where there's an obvious bulge that you know is him flaccid. "Maybe..." you suck on your bottom lip thoughtfully as your mind runs wild with memories of the sight of his cock peeking through his fist as he chases his high. Or wrapped in rubber as he bent another woman with fake tits over his desk, or face first against a too-rough wall to take what he wants.

You really don't know how he can claim to not have a type when you truly have only seen him actually having sex with one type of woman. You've seen him seduce and hit on a wide range of people, not even just women, but that's always to get his way and he doesn't fuck them, even if he does sometimes make out with them just to win them over.

"Stop thinking about my cock," Seungcheol deadpans, snapping you back to reality and looking up at him, though your gaze darts back down realising there's a change in the bulge. "Don't-"

"Are you getting hard?!" You gasp, shuffling onto your knees excitedly and gripping the grate.

"No."

"Liar," you grin, eyes sparkling.

Seungcheol knows he's done for now; for years you've been trying to fuck him and now, now he's actually lost his usual firm grip on his own libido and let you see that he's not actually turned off by you in any way.

"So, what's going to happen, Cheolie-" he swears at you, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course, you ignore the interruption. "Seeing as you ruined my me-time, I'm going to come back there-"

"And uncuff me."

"No, silly boy," you giggle. "And ride your giant cock."

Seungcheol curses under his breath and swallows before lifting his head to look at you.

For a few moments, you both just stare at each other. You, in wait for permission, because although you do a lot of questionable shit you'd never physically force yourself on anyone, and Seungcheol, clearly in thought.

"Get back here," he decides in a low, rough tone that makes your lower stomach twist and squeeze with genuine aroused excitement.

"Fuck yeah," you exhale, climbing out of the car where minutes ago you parked in one of the many empty warehouses belongings to Seungcheol’s gang.

Seungcheol watches through the window as you make short work of kicking off your shoes and removing your trousers and panties. He tries to look at you properly but that stupid fucking police uniform shirt you're wearing hangs to the top of your thighs and makes it so that he can't see shit. Not even once you've got the back door open and crawl into the backseat.

"You got a condom?" He asks, letting out a harsh exhale when you start to palm at his cock without warning.

"Nope," You shrug carelessly and use your free hand to open his belt before working on the button and zipper. "Got a problem with that?"

"Fucking you raw?" You hum in confirmation and reluctantly let go of his cock so that you can yank down his jeans and boxers. Seungcheol helpfully lifts his hips off of the seat, leaning back onto his shoulders against the backrest for balance to let you get the clothing down to his knees and reveal his rapidly-hardening cock to your greedy gaze. "You may be fucking psychotic at the best of the times and fucking weirdly obsessed with me-"

"Hey," you complain, pouting at him offendedly.

"Are you really pouting at me for calling you psychotic?" He deadpans in disbelief. He's called you worse before, much worse and you usually just giggle and act like he's given you a giant compliment.

"What? No," you scoff and move over to straddle his thighs. "It's you saying weirdly obsessed as if you're not the single hottest person I've ever met. How dare you?"

Seungcheol licks his lips and looks down to watch at what he thought was you making a move to ride his cock like you said you would. But no, you adjust your position at the last second and sit right on his left thigh.

"You're so fucking wet," he comments, voice thick with arousal and awe. His mouth drops open a little when you drag your slick pussy over his thigh and smear wetness over bare skin. "Fuck,"

"This is what you do to me, Cheolie," you complain and wrap your hand around his cock roughly. He groans and tips his head forward, thunking his forehead on your shoulder as you jerk him in time with the drag of your pussy up and down his thigh while he tenses it to make his muscles bulge and give you something firmer to grind your clit down on.

It feels better than you could’ve imagined and you’ve fantasised about riding Seungcheol’s beefy thighs more times than you can count.

"You're so fucking shameless," he grunts after a moment of just watching your movements. You're torturing him with the too-rough, slow pull of your palm against his cock, never close enough to the top to catch any of the precum that's starting to dribble down the side.

"For you, not anyone else,"

"You're going to give me a giant head,"

"It'll match your cock."

Seungcheol huffs a laugh and lifts his head to look at you. "You gonna sit on it then?"

"I'd love to, but you didn't actually say you're okay with not using a condom. I know you always do with those women."

"You're not them," it's perhaps the softest fucking thing Seungcheol has ever said to you. Your movements slow to a stop as you stare at him in surprise. "I trust you with every fucking aspect of the gang, trust you to back me up more than I do anyone else. You think I'd put my life in your hands and not the health of my dick?" He scoffs. "I trust you to not do this if you have anything you could pass on and I know I sure as fuck don't."

"And what if you knock me up?" Seungcheol raises his eyebrows at you bewilderedly, barely even noticing that you've stopped grinding on his thigh and have moved over to hover over his cock. "What?"

Seungcheol opens his mouth to respond but you decide to drop down onto his cock, letting his thick length split you open harshly as you both moan at the sudden friction. "Fuck!" He exclaims, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. "You-you fucking idiot," he lifts his head to look at you. "You didn't even take it slow! You could get fucking hurt!"

"Good, I like it," you smirk, proud of yourself for getting the usually so put-together man so worked up. There's something beautifully wild in his dark eyes and a pretty pink smeared over his cheeks.

You really wish you hadn’t left your phone in your trousers, you’d love to take a photo of him right now. You’d put it as your lock screen and he’d probably threaten to beat your ass if you don’t remove it, yet he never follows through with his threats to you.

"You're fucking crazy,"

"Yep." You grin and grind down against him, breath catching as his cock presses against multiple sensitive spots inside you that has you repeating the swirl of your hips again and again and again.

"Fu-fuck, just ride me, shit," he groans, trying to urge you to bounce by thrusting his hips up against you.

"Don't you like this?" You pout at him, faux-offended and keep at it. You know he likes it. It's clear by the tightness of his expression; the pleasure is clear in his furrowed brows and tense jaw, shoulders pressed back against the seat and biceps bulging as he tries to free himself from the cuffs.

You really hope he doesn't break them, you really fucking like him like this. Then again, the thought of Seungcheol using his stupidly beefy arms to break free from his binds so that he can grab your hips and force you to take the pummelling of his giant dick against your pussy walls, well that's a real fucking nice thought.

It makes you clench down on him and he moans, head tipping back and showing you the unblemished expanse of his throat. You wonder if he'd let you bite him.

"Can I bite you?" You ask, falling still.

"What the fuck?" He looks at you as if you're insane. Which, not exactly a new expression on the man when he's faced with you. But this time he looks utterly offended too.

"Is that a no?" You pout.

"I don't give a fuck, just keep going!" He demands, looking crazed.

"Can I kiss you too?" Seungcheol rolls his eyes and instead of verbally responding he tilts forward to crash his lips to yours, desperation urging him to kiss you in such a filthy way that your pussy throbs.

"Bounce," he growls against your lips before letting out a string of almost whispered praise when you obey and start to lift and drop yourself, finally riding his cock like both of you have been wanting for admittedly, longer than he's been in cuffs.

To your surprise, Seungcheol keeps kissing you and chases your lips every time you lean back or turn your head for breath, or just because you think he probably wants to stop and focus on your pussy dragging up and down his cock, soaking him with every wet smack of your thighs against his.

"Che-cheol," you pant out, knotting your fingers in his head to force him back and allow you to actually breathe. He moans deeply and his eyes roll back. Very interesting reaction indeed.

You never took Seungcheol to like having his hair pulled, but the filthy moans he lets out every time you experimentally tighten or yank on the strands now you've got the idea in your head, tell you that the man really fucking likes it. Not even mentioning how he fucks up into you harder every time too.

"Good boy," you compliment breathlessly, looking down at his cock sliding into you as you pretty much just hover over him now, more interested in finding out what makes him tick and turns him on than actually riding him. Not that you need to when he's doing a good enough job fucking you even with his arms restrained.

You just know he'd ruin you if he had full use of his body. He'd ruin you and you'd thank him for it and ask to repeat it every fucking day. He could break your hips and you'd thank him.

"Oh, fuck I-I'm gonna cum," he warns making your eyes widen in alarm.

"No!"

Seungcheol opens his eyes to look at you with equally as wide eyes yet doesn't stop fucking into you. "The fuck you mean no?"

"You can't cum yet! I'm not done!"

"I'm gonna-"

"No!"

"Fuck," his eyes roll back and he lets out a string of porn-worthy moans as he jerks up into you a few times harshly while filling you with cum.

You can only gawp at him in disbelief, one hand still in his hair and the other braced on his heaving chest. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" You exclaim, slapping his chest as he slouches against the seat while trying to catch his breath back. "You useless man!" You pinch his nipple where it's pressing against his t-shirt making him yelp and shoot his eyes open to look at you.

"What the fuck?"

"What kind of a gang boss are you, huh?" You berate, climbing off of him and wincing at the feel of his softening cock slipping out of you, trailing cum with it. You don't even care that it's getting all over him and the seats as you move. "To bust in minutes, you that pussy whipped, Choi Seungcheol?" You tut and shove him down on the seats.

"Ow, you fucking-" he cuts off, awkwardly wriggling to get on his back instead of laying painfully on his right shoulder. "I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as these cuffs are off, bitch," he warns, watching you with dark eyes, half warning, half aroused, as you clamber over his body.

"Ooh, call me more names, my likey," you wiggle your eyebrows at him as you plant your knees either side of his face.

It visibly takes everything in Seungcheol to keep his eyes on your face and not look at your pussy that's inches from his face and dripping cum down your slick inner-thighs. "You're clinically fucking insane, aren't you?"

"I work for you, comes with the job," you coo, leaning over to plant your left hand on the door above his head to get your balance, your right hand knotting into his hair making him let out a groan that travels through your body as your pussy meets his parted lips. "Now, make me cum like a good boy, Cheolie,"

To your utter delight, the words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol's tongue is dragging through your folds, uncaring that he's swallowing down his own cum as he enthusiastically starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Honestly, you've never seen Seungcheol do this. You've never known if he's the type of man to eat pussy and if so, if he does it as a means to get his dick wet or because he actually enjoys it. But now? Now you fucking know.

Seungcheol is making more noise than you are as he greedily laps and sucks at your pussy, alternating between thrusting his tongue into your hole and suckling on your clit. You swear, the man is determined to suck your soul out through your clit, he's not gentle about it at all but you can't lie, you really fucking enjoy the rough, messy actions.

"T-that's it," you encourage when his tongue is back inside of you as deep as he can get it to lick at your inner walls greedily, nose grinding against your clit with every movement of his head and his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

His face is buried so deep between your thighs that you're positive he can't breathe but even when you loosen your hold on his hair and stop moving your hips against his face to let him have space, he dives in even deeper somehow.

The pure unfiltered enthusiasm he devours your pussy with sends you hurtling to a powerful orgasm that takes you a bit by surprise when he gets a little too into it and his teeth drag over your skin. You didn't know you like that, but now you certainly do as you shudder and gasp over him, fingers tightening in his hair and letting the vibration of his groans and moans help ride you through as you smother him in your pussy.

Your legs feel like jelly when you shakily clamber off of his face and drop to sit on his still exposed thighs. His cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again. It's very distracting but you're both breathing too hard and trying to remember how to get air into your lungs to even consider going for round two. Well, mostly.

"Please tell me you have a key for these," Seungcheol says once he's caught his breath a few minutes later, still laid back with his eyes closed.

"No," you snigger at the pissed off look he gives you as he lifts his head enough to look at you. "Since when have I needed keys to open locks?"

"Good point," he drops back down, though immediately lifts his head again when you dance your fingers teasingly over his semi-erect dick. "Don't."

"Why not?" You pout and wrap your hand around his cock, thumbing at the head a little harshly but he clearly likes it judging by the way he gets harder in your hold and hisses, hips pushing up automatically to encourage you.

"Because I'll fucking dislocate my shoulders," he points out, trying to roll his shoulders but not really doing a good job thanks to his forced position. "And I can't hold you down and fuck you if my arms don't fucking work, can I?"

"You actually want to do that?"

"Always have," he shrugs and slumps in relief when you let go of him and shuffle back.

"No, you've never wanted to fuck me." You frown confusedly at him as he sits up with a few little grunts from the effort and release of pressure against his arms from being laid on them.

"I've always wanted to fuck your insane ass, which I guess makes me insane too. I know you're into some fucked up shit, I've seen the porn you watch."

"Don't kinkshame me,"

"Don't fucking use my computer to watch porn then!"

"But your office chair is big enough that I can spread my legs comfortably on to touch myself."

"You've masturbated in my office chair?" He deadpans, looking unimpressed. Yet when you nod in confirmation, you notice the flicker of arousal in his gaze. "Great, now I'm going to be thinking about that when I'm supposed to be working."

"You can always call me and I'll happily sit under your desk with your cock in my mouth, keep it warm and ready to sit on when you're done working."

"This is why I never fucking let you know." He shuffles towards the still open door, making you back out until you're standing on still slightly trembling legs. "Knew I'd never be able to stop once I had you." Seungcheol gets out of the car and turns his back to you. "Get these off me so I can bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk."

"Don't need to tell me twice," you quickly grab your lock-picking set from your trouser pocket before kneeling down behind Seungcheol to unpick the cuffs.

It takes you longer than it should to pick the lock because you're very distracted by his bare, plump ass right in front of your face. As soon as he moves his hands to roll his shoulders and rub his red-raw wrists, you lean forward and bite his asscheek.

"What the fuck?!" He shrieks, jolting away and turning to face you with wide eyes and red cheeks. "Did you just bite my ass?"

"Yes," your confirmation is utterly shameless as you stare up at him from still on your knees.

Seungcheol stares back at you for a moment, before sliding his hand into your hair and tugging you forward, smirking as your mouth opens wide to accept his cock without question or complaint.

"Good girl," he breathes out as you immediately start to suck and lick at him, humming and making appreciative noises at having his cock in your mouth finally. It's only taken five years.

Though Seungcheol doesn't let you enjoy him as thoroughly as you'd like. As soon as his tip touches your throat at your attempt to start deepthroating him, he pulls you off and yanks you up.

You're not given time to even complain or whine, or beg for his cock back, before he's got you with your hands on the roof of the car and chest bowing into the open doorway so that he can grind his cock against your still sopping wet pussy.

"You never explained the knocked up comment," he informs as he crowds up against your back, one big hand holding your wrists by the edge of the roof and the other gripping your hip tight.

"What?"

"You said about me getting you knocked up."

"And?"

"We both got done, on the same fucking day, remember? We’re medically infertile," He nips at your earlobe on the harder side and grins smugly when your breath catches and you press back against his cock.

"Never heard of a breeding kink, Cheolie?"

"Huh, you're into that?"

"I'm into anything if it's you."

He pauses his movements, lips parted against your ear for a few seconds before he suddenly lets go of your hip and pulls his own back to grab his cock and lead it to your entrance. He feeds it into you just far enough that he can let go and take your hip back into his hold before he thrusts forward, burying his cock into you in one quick, hard thrust. It jolts you forward and makes you moan loudly.

"Gonna fill you up every fucking day, baby," he promises, sounding far more affected than he did moments ago. "Gonna fill you with my cum until it sticks. Gonna breed you so fucking good, yeah?"

"Fuck, yeah, yeah, fuck me full, Cheolie," you agree, nodding madly and arching your back to push back against him while widening your stance to get him deeper, even if it means you have to push up onto your tiptoes to account for the height difference.

"That's my good fucking girl," he approves, pushing your shirt up and holding it at your waist to give him full view of your ass as he begins to fuck into you harshly.

Honestly, you have no idea if you're truly alone in the warehouse, you know that various gang members use the warehouses for meets and their own trysts but you do not give a single flying fuck.

You moan loud and shameless as Seungcheol fucks all thoughts from your head. He clearly doesn't care if anyone hears either, he moans and grunts without care, growling dirty words at you that you can barely babble a response at with the quickly growing pleasure in your body.

“Never letting anyone touch this pussy again,” he declares in amongst his moans and panting, not slowing down once in his determination to ruin you. “You’re mine, understand?”

You nod rapidly but can’t answer as that ball of pleasure in your belly clenches so tightly at his possessive words. As soon as his palm comes down on your ass with the intention of prompting you to verbally respond, that ball bursts; sending pleasure through your whole body and making your consistent moans turn higher in pitch, babbling his name repeatedly as your pussy convulses around his still-pistoning cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fucking into you a few more times before he slows to a gradual stop. You can feel that he’s still hard within you and whine a little, pushing your hips back against him to try and get him back to work. “You’re shaking,” he points out, pulling out and carefully helping you down onto flat feet, taking some pressure off of your thighs. You melt back against him when he winds his arms around your waist supportively and kisses your head.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes as you catch your breath back and your body stops shaking like a fucking leaf.

“You okay?” He asks softly, lips trailing over your cheek and temple. It’s much too tender. You like it, yeah, but you hadn’t been prepared for the care he’s giving you.

He has always cussed at you and called you names with disturbed expressions. You’ve never cared about that, the names and harsh words have truly never bothered you and amused you more than anything. Seungcheol has never actually hurt you even when he’s slapped you away from him or thrown items at you, he has always purposely near-missed you. His aim is too good to unintentionally miss you all the time.

But this, the fingers trailing over you mindlessly, the lips brushing against your skin and the words spoken in a fond voice you’ve never fucking heard the man use, well that’s a lot to take in.

“No,” you reply.

“Oh, what can I do? Did I hurt-”

“You can go back to fucking me,”

“You’re still shaking,”

“That’s because you were doing a good job! Gold star Seungcheol!”

“What happened to Cheolie?”

“You don’t even fucking like it!” You groan and wriggle out of his arms with every intention of pushing him away and getting your clothes back on but he pulls you right back in, chest to chest and looks at you so devastatingly fucking adoringly your breath catches in your throat in a giant ball of what the fuck Choi Seungcheol.

“I like it,” he murmurs. “I like it because it’s you. I just…couldn’t let you know that.”

“And now you can? You fucked me and now suddenly everything changes?”

“You wanted things to be the same?” He frowns, hurt trickling onto his expression as his arms fall away from you.

“I thought it was just sex,” you admit.

“Right,” he scoffs, yanking his boxers and jeans up as he steps away from you, dick sadly deflated despite being hard and pressed against your ass a minute ago. “See this is why I never fucking wanted this!” He exclaims, turning angry now as he reaches down to grab your panties and trousers to toss at you harshly. You wince when the police-issue gun and holster smack into your ribs.

Seungcheol pauses for a split second noticing that he hurt you but then he carries on, throwing your boots at you next. You don’t even bother trying to catch them and let them collide painfully with your thighs then topple down, the hard edges of the soles sending pain through the tops of your feet.

“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” He snaps, stalking over to yank the items from your hands and get to his knees to roughly force your feet into the trousers and panties at once.

“Seungcheol-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. For the first time, you listen to him.

A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of the car as Seungcheol drives recklessly through the back streets. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to slow down because you both would get arrested and you don’t think even his lawyers could talk him out of getting locked up for driving a fake police car with fake licence plates and over the speed limits without either of you wearing seat belts.

He drives to a side street behind his apartment building and doesn’t even put the car in park, just stops it and gets out, slamming the door behind him before storming off. You take it for the harsh dismissal it is and climb over the centre console to get into the drivers’ seat to head off.

For the first time in years, you don’t see Seungcheol for days. You don’t think it’s wise to test him right now. You still don’t think he’d hurt you, but you think your presence would hurt him and you don’t want that.

Despite what Seungcheol obviously thinks, and with good reason too because you didn’t say anything otherwise, you do care about the man. A hell of a fucking lot.

It wasn’t instant, there wasn’t a moment where your eyes locked across the table on that set-up blind-date between you that was really both of your little groups of criminals and deviants trying to get information on the other group. You had both clocked each other and although it could’ve gone badly, Seungcheol had asked you to team up on a job and the gang was born shortly after.

Your connection was about work from day one, but spending time with the man even when he told you to fuck off when you would jokingly hit on him, it kind of really gave you a giant fucking weak spot in the shape of his stupid, charming face.

The relentless flirting and sexual remarks, although they are all genuine, became your way to hide the truth of your feelings. Lean into lust to hide the love. It just seems that it worked too fucking well.

You had honestly forgotten that the flutter in your stomach when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s isn’t all lust; that it isn’t just horny little demons running rampant and trying to tell you to get his cock in you, but butterflies too. Excited, pretty little butterflies flapping their wings and trying to lift you up into the clouds to where you and Seungcheol can skip merrily through the meadows together hand in hand like that scene in Shrek before the villagers chased the ogres down with pitchforks.

But that isn’t realistic. You can’t skip hand in hand through a meadow, mostly because Seungcheol has damaged his knees from throwing himself around too much to skip anywhere, though it would be funny to watch his hobbling attempt.

Well, at least up until a few days ago you thought it wasn’t realistic. You didn’t think Seungcheol had anything but a respect for you as one of his gang members and a good fucking one too. He often turns to you to get shit done when others have failed or if it’s too risky, too important to send others in, you’re the one he goes to. You thought that’s all your relationship equates to.

But apparently, you haven’t paid enough attention to Seungcheol to have missed the man apparently having some kind of feelings for you.

You’re not going to assume he’s in love with you, it’s now obvious to you that he holds some kind of candle for you, but you’re not naive or hopeless enough to assume his tender touches that turned to hurt anger, to be love.

Choi Seungcheol likes you. Romantically. Sexually too. That part was great, top marks. Gold star indeed. If that’s all it had been, you’re pretty sure you’d have been spread over his desk every day since or tucked under it like you offered to cockwarm him with your mouth. That would’ve been great.

But nope, feelings. And not the touching each other up kind of ones.

All in all, it’s a giant fucking shitshow and not in the way you purposely orchestrate for your own twisted amusement. You hope things will fix themselves shortly because you don’t know how much more of this you can handle. But honestly, you really don’t think they will.

“So,” Minghao starts as he invites himself to join you in the car you’ve borrowed for the fun of it. You look at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth and wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do to piss Seungcheol off so much?”

“Me?” You garble around your food still hanging out of your mouth and pointing at your own chest. The look the man gives you is utterly disgusted and it makes you snigger before you actually chew and swallow your food. “Why do you assume I did something to piss him off?”

“Maybe the fact you haven’t been around in a week and every time I’ve suggested he asks for your help like we need, he pretends to have never heard of you while breaking yet another fucking pen in his fist.”

“Sounds like you need to stop getting cheap pens,” you mutter, reaching for your drink in the cup holder but he takes it.

You watch as Minghao noisily slurps up the liquid through the straw, defiantly holding eye contact with you. But then he gags and quickly puts the cup in your awaiting hand so that he can turn, open the car door and spit the drink out onto the parking lot of the restaurant you’re parked in to enjoy your lunch.

“What the fuck is in that?!” He shrieks when he’s done sputtering, turning to look at you with wide eyes behind his wire-framed glasses.

“Coke,”

“That is not coke,”

“Both kinds, and mint schnapps,”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Valid.” You nod and slurp at your unholy concoction.

It wasn’t even your choice, you accidentally dropped a badly sealed baggie of the white powder into your cup when you tipped the contents of the hip flask from the glovebox into the cup. You had assumed it was whiskey or vodka or something normal, not fucking mint schnapps of all things. That’s what you get for tipping out the contents of a stolen hip flask from a stolen car into your drink without at least giving it a cursory sniff-test first.

Minghao watches you with something like fear on his features as you don’t even flinch at the truly disgusting flavour that coats your tongue. You’ve had worse things in your mouth, you can say that much.

Mostly thanks to Soonyoung’s own habit of shoving any food and drink into his mouth to consume like some kind of tastebud-less heathen. There’s probably a reason you’ve been friends for so long. One that doesn’t involve a bloodpact you made as idiot children that you’re both too stubborn to turn your back on first.

“So, what did you do? Ask to put something questionable in his ass?” Minghao soldiers on as he steals the unopened chocolate bar from the dashboard to open and bite into, looking very relieved at having the haunting taste of your drink covered by the sweet on his tongue. “Ask him to put something questionable in your ass?”

“No,” you scoff, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Minghao pauses in his rapid chewing to watch you consideringly. He’s never seen you like this, like you have actual human emotions beside lust and maniacal joy at making others suffer in various ways borne of your chaotic ideas.

“It’s serious,” he realises in a mutter. You shrug and give up with your lunch, suddenly not hungry for it and pass it over to him so that you can start the car up. “What happened?”

“What’s the job?” You ask as you drive out of the lot in a way that closes the car door he hadn’t fully closed. The slam of the door makes Minghao jolt, he had forgotten it was even open and rolls his eyes a little at you not asking him to shut it before driving off.

“He’s dealing with it,”

“That’s stupid if you think I should be doing it.”

“Yeah, well, according to him, you don’t exist so he’s the best chance.”

“If you wanted to send me in, that means it requires a delicate touch-”

“You set a warehouse on fire last month, that’s not a delicate touch.”

“That wasn’t for a job, that was for fun, leave me alone.”

“You…whatever. He can handle the job, it’s just a different direction than you’d take.”

“Has he gone in fists swinging?”

“No. He’s seducing someone for information.”

“Ah, dick swinging,” you mutter, feeling a sourness in your chest and rising up your throat. You’ve not felt this before when you’ve heard of Seungcheol seducing someone to get the job done.

You haven’t even felt it when you’ve literally walked in on him balls-deep in some woman over his desk; you would just stand there until he noticed you, then annoy him by dragging out whatever it was you turned up for. It was all fun and games. This burning tickling your throat isn’t.

Jealousy is not something you’re familiar with and you immediately decide you hate it.

“You know he doesn’t…” he trails off, expression twisting as he recalls something based on his expression. “Well, usually he doesn’t fuck his marks but-”

“What?!” You exclaim, slamming on the breaks and looking at Minghao with crazed eyes.

Minghao yells which only grows when a car audibly swerves behind you to not rear-end you. “Fucking drive you idiot!”

“He’s fucked the mark?” You ask, voice eerily level in a way that makes Minghao look at you and swallow thickly.

For the first time, Minghao is genuinely scared of you. He knows you are an unhinged, unrelenting mess at the best of times and in a way, you do always scare him because he never knows what you’re going to do. You could easily hurt him or anyone but you haven’t, you’re usually too busy making sexual remarks to Seungcheol, or someone about Seungcheol, loudly enough that the man himself can clearly hear.

And Minghao knows you’re a competent fighter, he’s seen proof of it but he’s never seen you fight yourself. He’s never seen you look so serious and pissed before either.

The carnage he’s seen the after effects of, the destruction you’ve caused, yet you’ve always had a grin on your face afterwards as if you’ve just been to an amusement park and had the time of your life splattered with blood. He knows how much damage you can cause in a good mood. So Minghao is genuinely terrified of what hell you can create when you’re in a foul mood, and right now? He thinks you would burn the world down and anyone who gets in your way.

“He-he hasn’t but he said he will if he needs to.”

“Where is he?”

The apartment you let yourself into is familiar and really not where you expected to end up when Minghao had given you his phone to let you use the app he and Seungcheol use to track each other. You hadn’t known about this app and you can only assume Seungcheol had made sure you didn’t know so that you couldn’t use it to stalk him. Which…valid worry. You definitely would’ve stalked him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You demand as you step into the living room and find Seungcheol slouched on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the bottle in the other and balanced on his thick thigh.

“This is my home,” he points out. “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Where is she?” You ask, peering around before inviting yourself to walk through the apartment, slamming open doors to rooms as you go in search of the woman Seungcheol was seducing for information.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He retorts, following after you once he’s put the glass and bottle down on the coffee table. “Who?”

“The mark, Hao said you were planning to fuck her for information.”

“And you thought I’d bring her here?”

“Well how the fuck should I know?!” You turn to face him. “You don’t fuck your marks, Seungcheol! But you were going to, or have…” You eye him over, black shirt unbuttoned to his chest tucked into black trousers that show off his thick thighs and plump ass. Trousers you’ve told him you hold he never stops wearing, and then he promptly did stop to your disappointment. At least you thought he had.

“I didn’t,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets after they twitch at his sides.

“No?” You lift your gaze up to meet his eyes, or at least try to but he’s pointedly looking at the wall beside your left shoulder. “Did you get what you needed without fucking her?”

“No,” he admits and tenses his jaw a few times.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to fuck her! I thought I could do it but I can’t.” He huffs and turns to storm back to the living room. Of course, you follow and watch as he downs the contents of his glass before pouring out more.

“Why did you suddenly think you could when you’ve never wanted to fuck for a job? You said that to me before, that you don’t ever want to fuck for work.”

“Because…it doesn’t fucking matter,”

“Obviously it does.” You walk over and take the glass from him after he’s swallowed down the contents again. “This isn’t you, Seungcheol. I’m the one who drinks at 1pm, not you.”

“Well maybe I should be allowed to be the fucked up asshole for once, huh?” He stares down at you darkly. “Why are you allowed to be a fuck up and I can’t?”

“Because you’re better than me, you always have been.” You pick up the bottle and turn to take it to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises as he follows you. “I don’t mean that, you’re not a fuck up.”

“I am, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it, Seungcheol so-”

“Please stop calling me that,” he breathes out.

You finish putting the lid on the bottle and put it in the liquor cabinet before putting the dirty glass in the dishwasher, and then you turn to look at him while leaning back against the counter behind you with your arms crossed loosely over your chest.

He looks…sad. You hate it.

“That’s your name, that’s what everyone calls you. That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to call you for years.”

“And you never fucking listened. Can’t…can’t we go back to that?”

“I don’t know, can we?”

Seungcheol does nothing but look at you for what feels like more than enough time for him to come to a definite answer hours ago. But he just keeps looking at you with those giant sad fucking eyes and his fingers gripping the edge of the island counter in front of him as if he needs to hold on to something and what he wants to hold isn’t in reach.

“I can try,” he offers. “Can you?”

“I’m not the one who has been denying the other’s existence,”

“You’re not the one who got their heart broken,” he retorts sharply before taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. A clear sign of trying to calm himself. “No, I can’t, I can’t do this,” he decides, opening his eyes to land them back on you. “You need to leave.”

“For how long?”

“This is my apartment-”

“That’s not what I meant,” you uncross your arms and walk the few steps to the island in front of you, on Seungcheol’s adjacent right and close enough that either of you could easily reach out and touch. Neither of you do. “I’ll leave your apartment, I won’t argue about leaving now. But I need to know if this is the end of everything, Seungcheol. The past five years of working together, does it end now?”

“Is that all you care about? The fucking gang? Not our relationship? But the fucking gang?”

“That is our relationship,” you give him a bewildered look. “Before last week there’s never been anything but the gang.”

“You’re serious,” he mutters in disbelief.

“Well, yeah,”

“Get out.”

“That doesn’t answer-”

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!” He snaps, poking his own head. “You got nothing going on up here past work, huh?”

You just stare at him, not sure how to respond because admittedly, the things he’s been saying to you today have been hurting. Five years of insults and degrading names hasn’t once bothered you. But he’s never said hurtful things like this before.

“How Soonyoung has put up with you for so fucking long is beyond me.” He scoffs and steps back, away from you with a nasty expression on his face, eyes dark and cold in a way he has never looked at you. “He must be as fucking stupid as you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” you warn, your own expression turning hard in defence of your best friend. “Say whatever you want about me but do not say a bad word against him.”

“Why not? Hurt your feelings?” He taunts. “Didn’t know you have those. Sure fucking fooled me.”

“Of course I have feelings, you dick, some of us just know how to keep them to ourselves and not let them rule our mouths.”

“Well you’ve kept yours really fucking close, great fucking job there. Gold fucking star. You’ve kept to yourself so much nobody knows shit about how you feel. I thought I did but obviously I was fucking wrong.” He turns to walk off yet turns back around and stalks right back to lean his palms on the counter and stare intently at you. “Just tell me this, did I ever mean fucking anything to you? Did you ever even think of me as a friend? I thought you did but you’ve dismissed this so fucking easily, you’re so fucking willing to walk away and only ask about the gang that I’m pretty sure I’ve been a naive fucking idiot this whole time.”

“Friends?” You mumble in surprise because honestly, you’ve never thought of Seungcheol as your friend. You’ve never tried to name what he is to you but you’re not sure you could if you tried.

Soonyoung is your friend, even Minghao you’d consider a friend. But Seungcheol? Perhaps at one point you could’ve thought of him in such a way but now you’ve been pushing down your true feelings for him for so long that you don’t even know how to classify him. Friend doesn’t feel right.

“Yes, friends, you know, people you like being around, people you can talk to about stuff other than work, get a drink with and have fun with.”

“Have we ever done any of that?” You genuinely wonder quietly.

You watch as the realisation dawns on Seungcheol and his anger melts into something pained. “No,” he admits quietly. “We haven’t.”

“Well, I guess there’s the answer,” you mumble, chest aching at what you know this means. That you and Seungcheol have never truly had a relationship of any kind outside of work. You’ve never realised that before, never before had to consider what that means. You wish you had, maybe then things now would be different.

“Right,” he huffs a humourless laugh as he backs up, eyes looking anywhere but you even as he turns. “Show yourself out and don’t…don’t come back.”

You can’t be certain, he talks too quietly and moves out of the kitchen and down the hall too quickly, but you think you catch the glint of tears on his cheeks.

Weeks pass as you go about your life, as you try to make a new life without Seungcheol or his gang playing such a pivotal part in it. You listened to his wishes, you left and didn’t return, you deleted his number and told Minghao it’s probably wise if he tells everyone that you’ve left the gang and won’t return; and then you deleted and blocked all of their numbers too once they started calling and texting to ask what the fuck happened.

Soonyoung didn’t know what happened at first, but he loyally left the gang too and then you both decided to just get new numbers to avoid the hassle of blocking everyone you’ve ever known in relation to the gang.

And then they started to turn up at your apartments so you packed up and left the city and Soonyoung still didn’t ask what happened.

Of course, you did tell him though. You told him everything that happened with you and Seungcheol and had to talk Soonyoung down from driving back to the city to try and beat up Seungcheol for the things he said to you in his apartment.

Try being the keyword, because although Soonyoung is more than a competent fighter and plenty strong enough, one of Seungcheol’s biceps is likely bigger than Soonyoung’s head.

But Soonyoung did calm enough to slap you around the head and call you an idiot for not telling Seungcheol the truth about your feelings when the man was clearly trying to start a relationship with you after fucking you dumb. You argue that the man had just fucked you dumb so your brain wasn’t working. Soonyoung said your brain doesn’t work full stop. Which…is kind of valid, at least where human relationships are involved.

And that leads us to your new life with your best friend in another town a two hour drive from the city and where Soonyoung has already made friends with a man who it took Soonyoung a worryingly long time to realise is a hooker.

You quite like his new friend and like to play bodyguard with Soonyoung when Junhui dresses up in expensive clothes to bag expensive clients his pimp sends him to meet. Junhui loves it too; having the two of you dressed up in suits and following behind him to keep him safe. He doesn’t even mind that you both stay at the edge of the room when he gets to work.

“This guy is a friend of Jeonghan’s,” Junhui explains from the backseat of the fancy car you can proudly say you didn’t even steal. Soonyoung stole it. You’re so proud of him.

“Which is why daddy Hannie is joining,” Soonyoung hums in understanding, nodding his head and almost hitting a lamppost before swerving at the last second after peering over the top of his dark sunglasses.

“Remove the fucking glasses, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan, Junhui’s pimp, sighs from Junhui’s right with both hands gripping the leather seats under him. Which is very understandable. “And please stop lying to me that you have your driver’s licence.”

“Told you it’s obvious,” you mutter to your best friend who slaps your tit as he childishly mocks you. So you backhand him in the dick making him groan and double over, one hand over his crotch and his other arm hugging the steering wheel he’s leaning his chest against while biting the top of it in pain.

Junhui sniggers at the antics between you and your best friend, as amused as he ever is by you two. While Jeonghan, not for the first time, wonders what kind of circus Junhui found the pair of you in and if they’d take you back.

“So, what’s the deal with this dude?” You ask a few minutes later when Soonyoung parks over three spaces in the hotel parking lot and Junhui cheers at Soonyoung remembering to apply the breaks in time for once.

“He’s an old friend in town for business and wants to sweeten the guy he’s meeting tonight, so he asked me to bring my best.” Jeonghan replies while checking he has everything in his pockets by patting his clothing down thoroughly.

“Aw, Junnie, you’re daddy’s best,” Soonyoung coos, grinning over at Junhui who preens proudly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me daddy, Soonyoung. I said that to her, not you.” The pimp points out as you all get out of the car.

“What’s hers is mine and mine is hers,” your best friend replies airily.

“You’re married?”

“What? Ew, gross, no,” Soonyoung retches and then stumbles when you shove him. He collides with the wall of the hotel making you snort a laugh, until he turns and you notice his glasses are broken and can see his unimpressed glare through the missing section of the lens. “I just got these!” He exclaims, taking off the sunglasses and tosses them into the bushes.

“I’ll get you another pair,”

“Better do. I want Gucci ones,”

“I’ll see what I can do,”

When Jeonghan looks over at the pair of you in the elevator up to the penthouse suite, he has to do a double take at the Gucci sunglasses perched on Soonyoung’s nose. “Where did you get those?” Soonyoung points at you. Jeonghan gives you a flat look. “Well?”

“They were just sitting there,” you shrug.

“Where?”

You stare back at Jeonghan, making your expression innocent knowing how much Jeonghan hates it when you pickpocket people for the fun of it. “Some guy’s head,”

“You stole sunglasses while someone was wearing them?”

“It was really impressive,” Soonyoung nods, entirely missing the point of Jeonghan’s gawping. “Jun’s really good at distracting, they make a good team.”

“You fucking helped?” Jeonghan gawps at Junhui who just smiles sweetly at his pimp. “I’m banning you from hanging out with them.”

“You’re my daddy not my father,” Junhui scoffs.

Jeonghan clearly wants to argue more but the ding echoes in the metal box signalling you’ve arrived at the suite, so he just takes a breath and schools his expression in an impressively short time while the doors open.

Then you four step out into the little lobby before the suite entrance doors and you swear, recognising the suited men standing guard outside of the suite.

“Oh, fuck,” Soonyoung whispers.

“You assholes!” One of the men exclaims, stalking over to flying-kick Soonyoung in the back of his thigh. “You fucking ghosted us!”

“Ow, ow, Kwan, stop it!” Soonyoung cries out, trying to stop Seungkwan’s furious kicks and slaps. “I need my legs to protect my slut!”

“Hey!” Junhui exclaims and slaps Soonyoung too. “I am not yours.”

“Ow, attack her!” Soonyoung tries to shove Seungkwan over to you but he takes one look at you and shrinks back before going back to hitting Soonyoung while hissing that you scare him too much to try to hit.

“Were you part of the gang?” Jeonghan asks, looking at you.

“You could say that,” you murmur and look over to the grand double doors then back to him. “You’re meeting Seungcheol?”

“Yes,”

“We shouldn’t be there, me especially.”

“Do you owe him money?”

“No, nothing like that we just…aren’t on good terms, I guess you could say.”

“Yeah, what happened anyway?” Seungkwan wonders, suddenly at your side and linking his arm with yours. “What’s the gossip?”

“I assume you enjoy having the use of your hands,” you speak, raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan who backs away with his hands held up in surrender. “Good boy.”

“How much issue would it cause to take you in there?” Jeonghan asks, looking between you, Soonyoung, Junhui and his watch then the doors and back again.

“Oh, a shit ton,” Soonyoung answers with a hum. “We moved two hours away for a reason,” he face falls and he looks at you with a sad pout. “Do we have to move again now that they know where we live?”

“No!” Junhui whines, wrapping his arms around you. “You have to stay. You’re my bodyguards! I feel so much safer with you watching over me and I like having you watch too!”

“You can discuss this later, we need to meet Seungcheol before he gets sulky at us for being late,” Jeonghan sighs, tugging Junhui to his side. “You two wait out here. I’ll have to discuss this with Seungcheol to see if he will be against you doing what I fucking pay you for.”

“You pay us?” Soonyoung mutters confusedly while you just nod at Jeonghan in agreement so he and Junhui go into the room. “He pays us?”

It all goes a lot better than you expect. You don’t even need to be in the same room as Seungcheol and, in fact, you don’t even see him until 3 am the next morning when you’re pulling him off of the man he was supposed to be making a business contract with but apparently, Seungcheol found it necessary to beat the shit out of him in the hotel lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask once you’ve got Seungcheol outside and around the side of the building. He’s seething, blood smeared over his hands and splattered on his face. “You were supposed to be making an ally and I thought it was going well! What the fuck happened?!”

“You! It’s always fucking you!” Seungcheol turns to you and puts a hand on your upper chest to roughly pin you against the wall. You let him. “It was going well until he fucking- why are you even here? You’re not a bodyguard!”

“Yes I am,” you frown. “I’m here to keep Junhui safe and I’m good at it.”

“Not in the eyes of assholes like that. You’re just more eye candy bastards like him think they can have. “

“Is that why you beat the shit out of him and ruined the past hours of work? Because he said some remarks about me?” You scoff. “I can handle that, Seungcheol, I-” You cut off when his hand is suddenly at your throat. He’s not squeezing or applying any pressure but it’s a solid warning that he could.

You should probably be scared, but you’re not, even if the man looks utterly psychotic with blood smeared over him and wide eyes staring down at you. It’s probably really fucked up how hot you find it.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growls, crowding you further against the wall, getting so close that his thick thigh slots between yours and his left forearm leans on the wall above your head. “What’s my name?” You raise your eyebrow. “Well?”

“Seungcheol,” your defiant response has his fingers curling around your throat and starting to cut off your air flow. It just makes your excitement grow and show in the sparkle of your eyes.

“Try that again,” he warns in a murmur, moving even closer and pressing his thigh up against your crotch. “Go on,”

“Seungcheol,”

“Bitch,” and then he’s kissing you with the same desperation he first kissed you. His hold is firm around your throat and his thigh is already rubbing against you in a way that has you grinding down while gripping his waist in one hand and hip in the other over those fucking trousers that drive you insane. Well, more insane than you already are where Choi Seungcheol is involved.

“Uh,” of course, of fucking course it’s Soonyoung who interrupts you, making you both look at him with matching pissed off expressions. “We should go, that dude is getting taken to the hospital and the hotel is willing to look the other way thanks to Hannie, provided we all leave and you never show your face again here. Hannie and Jun have already gone.”

“She’s coming with me,” Seungcheol informs. “You go.”

“Can’t. Daddy’s banned me from driving,”

“Then fucking walk, Soonyoung.”

“We live so far away,” Soonyoung whines.

“I’m going to break his face if he doesn’t leave right fucking now,” Seungcheol warns as he looks at you.

“Just drive, daddy’s gone,” you point out with a shrug.

“Good point.” Soonyoung nods then turns and walks off just like that without another word or complaint.

You hope he won’t crash on the way home or forget that he’s driving a stolen car meaning that he shouldn’t take it to your shared apartment. But you can never be too sure with Soonyoung. Oh well, he already knows you won’t visit him in jail, just like he wouldn’t you. Your bloodpact never said anything about prison after all.

“This is stupid,” Minghao mutters, glancing over to where Seungcheol has a possessive arm around you in the lift of the hotel they’re staying in for the night, a much less fancy one than the meeting happened in. “You told her to leave and now you’ve fucking glued yourself to her and lost a lucrative deal to defend her honour or some bullshit.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Seungcheol retorts, giving Minghao a look that his right hand just rolls his eyes at.

“Whatever, just don’t expect me to walk on eggshells around you anymore. You’re hurting yourself here and you know it.”

“I’m the one who’s going to get choked,” you point out earning a disgusted look from Minghao. “What? I know you’re into choking, don’t look at me like that.”

“How do you know what he’s into?” Seungcheol asks, looking between you.

“How do you not know?” You scoff, looking at Seungcheol as if he’s the weird one.

“Because I’ve never had sex with him,”

“Neither have I.”

“Or watched him have sex,”

“I haven’t…okay once or twice…maybe thrice…” Your expression twists thoughtfully as you try to recall every instance where you’ve watched Minghao have sex, intentionally or not.

“What the fuck?!” Seungcheol glares at Minghao who holds up his hands placatingly.

“She’s a voyeur and I’m an exhibitionist, it just made sense when it happened. She usually walked in anyway. You know she has no sense of personal boundaries and invites herself wherever the fuck she wants to go.”

“You should’ve stopped!”

“You never did,” you point out and push away from the wall when the doors open and let the three of you enter the corridor. “You never stopped when I walked in on you.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Sex is sex.”

“Right.”

“And I’m leaving, quickly,” Minghao informs and all but runs down the hallway ahead of you two to get to his room.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything until you’re both in his hotel room en suite and he’s leaning back against the sink counter while you clean his split knuckles for him. “Is sex really just sex to you?”

“What else would it be?”

“It means nothing?”

“Is it supposed to?” You raise an eyebrow at him when you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s got that sad puppy look again that twists your heart painfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” you sigh and focus back on his hand. “Why did you kiss me, Seungcheol?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want you to leave.”

“And that means choking and kissing me?”

“That’s what you want from me, right? Sex? Just meaningless fucking.”

“No,”

“Oh.” You don’t need to be looking at Seungcheol to know his expression has fallen further into depths that would drag painful claws across your pitiful little heart if you witness it. “You don’t want me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that,”

“Then what are you saying? I don’t know how to fucking read you, you know? I need you to talk to me. Every time I try to have an honest fucking conversation with you about this you just stare at me and break my heart without even saying a word, at least have the fucking balls to do it verbally this time.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, it hurts me too, seeing you with that fucking kicked puppy dog look.” You give up cleaning his hand and toss the blood stained cloth into the sink to step back with your hands on your hips. “And I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking…emotionally incompetent!”

“What?”

“I don’t know, that’s what Soonyoung called me when I explained all this to him.”

“Emotionally incompetent?” You nod. “Why did he call you that? I mean, he’s probably right but he’s usually the first to defend you, so for him to call you that means you fucked up.”

“I hurt you, of course I fucked up.”

“Not returning my feelings doesn’t mean-”

“Cheol,” he immediately cuts off, eyes rounding out at the nickname you haven’t called him in so long. Granted, you haven’t seen him to call him anything in so long but the point still stands. “When did I actually say I don’t have feelings for you?”

“You said we’re not even friends.”

“We’re not, we might’ve been at one point years ago but…I can’t think of you like that. You…” you sigh and drop your arms to your sides. “You mean too much to me. I don’t know how to put any of it into words and I was too shocked that day at the warehouse to say anything. And then you got pissed off and threw shit at me and I just didn’t know how to navigate that. It was a lot.”

“You didn’t even show your face after,” he pretty much whispers, hands gripping the counter either side of his hips to try and ground himself. It reminds you of the day in his kitchen, the last day you saw him, when he was holding the island so tightly to stop himself from reaching for you. “You could’ve come to me and explained and then we could’ve…things would be different.”

“I thought giving you space would be best. I didn’t want to make you worse. I thought that space would help but Hao found me and said you were denying my fucking existance and planning to fuck a mark and obviously you weren’t any better with the space.”

“I was a fucking wreck. I can’t do this, I can’t not have you there turning up to make remarks about my thighs or ass or whatever. I need you there by my side so come back, please.”

“Just like that? I come back and things go back to how they were?”

“No. You come back and we figure out what works for us.”

“Sex works great, that was good.”

He chuckles and nods a little in agreement. “It was and I’d really fucking love to do that more, I’m sure you’ve probably got an endless list of fucked up shit you want to do to me.”

“Oh, hell yeah I do,” you confirm, eyes widening as you think of your endless fantasies involving the man in front of you. “How do you feel about taxidermy?”

“We’re not involving taxidermy into our sex life, no fucking way,” he replies firmly. “That’s a hard fucking no, you keep that in your freaky head.”

“Noted. What about anal?”

“You went from taxidermy to anal how exactly?”

“Stuffing,”

Seungcheol tries not to laugh but breaks into an amused smile and motions for you to get closer. “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we discovered this years ago, Cheolie,”

“Mm,” he slides his hands onto your hips as he smiles at you in a soft kind of way that makes your heart race.

“Cheol?” He hums. “Is…I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before they soften back out and he takes a gentle hold of your face and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you too,”

“Oh, really?” He nods and you grin happily at him. “That’s cool. We should get married or something.”

“Fucking hell, you can’t just spring that on me,” he groans, hiding his blushing face into your neck as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

“But we’re in love, we love each other, why should we wait?” You’re genuinely confused and it makes him chuckle a little. “I’m serious, Cheol! Why should we wait to get married if that’s what’s going to happen anyway?”

“Alright, baby, let’s get married,” he agrees, straightening up, beaming at you so happily that you can’t help but smile back at him. “We’ll start arranging it as soon as we’re home, hm? But for now-”

“Sex, lots of sex,” you finish for him.

“I was going to say let’s sleep but you’re right, who even needs sleep?” He hoists you up with a cheeky grin while you giggle and wrap your arms and legs around him to make it easier for him to take you into the bedroom.

“You didn’t answer me about anal,”

“I don’t have anal lube, babe,” he chuckles, laying you down onto the bed and climbing between your thighs while removing his shirt.

“I don’t have a dildo or strap either,” you pout at the reminder.

“Wait, you meant my ass?”

“Yeah, I really want to fuck your ass, it’s made to be fucked.”

“Uh, I’ll consider it.”

“Okay.” You reach out to pull him back down and slot your lips together shortly. “Now, you owe me,”

“What, why?”

“You said you were going to fuck me until I can’t walk and that never happened.”

“Because you let me think you don’t want me for more than just sex!”

“All I’m hearing is excuses and not enough action to put your cock in me,”

“Yeah yeah, get naked.” He slaps your thigh a few times in encouragement while leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt.

You make zero effort to move at all, except to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch intently as he slowly unbuttons his belt.

“Are you seriously just going to watch me strip?” He asks while teasingly dragging his fingers along his skin along the edge of his waistband with a cocky smirk once his belt is open.

“Dance for me, pretty boy,”

Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips and waits until you’ve dragged your gaze up from staring at the outline of his cock, over his bare torso and to his face. He’s raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you just call me pretty boy?”

“Yes,”

“Fucking crazy,” he huffs a short laugh.

“Hey!” You lean up just enough to slap his thigh scoldingly then sit up so that you can grope at his thighs with both hands while he just watches with an amused, fond little smile at your utterly shameless actions. “You are pretty, my pretty boy,”

“Mm, I can accept that,” he agrees, holding your jaw with one hand firmly to tilt you up as he leans in to brush his lips over yours teasingly. “So long as I’m your pretty boy, I don’t mind being called that. So long as I’m yours, you can call me anything.”

“Okay, sugarplum.” You cackle at the world-weary sigh that Seungcheol lets out against your lips before he leans back to look at you unimpressed. “What’s the matter, pookie?”

“Why did you have to ruin the mood?”

“I ruined the mood?” You smirk and slide one hand up his thigh to grip his cock firmly, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden, tight pressure. “Feels like you’re still in the mood to me, pretty boy.”

“I really must be insane,”

“We match well then, huh?”

“Mm,” he leans down to kiss you shortly. “Good thing we’re never having kids, they’d be sectioned before they reach adulthood.”

“Our neighbours would hate us,”

“They would,” he chuckles. “We’ll find somewhere new to live together once we’re married, away from noisy ass neighbours, and with a garden so I can fuck you outside and see how gorgeous you’ll look with the sun shining on you when you’re covered in my cum.”

“There’s a park down the road,”

“No,” he scoffs and shoves you back to make you lay down before his hands move to roughly yank his belt free. “You’re mine, I’m not letting anyone else see you like that.”

“Even knowing they can look but not touch?”

“Maybe once I’ve covered you in marks and made up for the past five years of not being able to fuck you.”

“Sounds like a party,” you grin, and then wiggle excitedly as he taps the folded middle of his leather belt against your inner thigh. “That’d leave pretty marks.”

“Mm, it would, you need to be naked for that though, baby,”

“You need to dance for me first,” you remind matter-of-factly before lacing your fingers together behind your head comfortably.

“You really want me to dance for you?”

“I’ve dreamed about you giving me a strip tease, don’t kill my boner, Cheolie.”

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep saying shit like this.”

“Guess we need to invest in some gags,”

“Guess we do,” he murmurs and licks his lips automatically at the thought of your lips stretched around a gag and drool running down your chin as you moan for him. “I’ll give you a strip tease another day, I need to fuck you too much.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, baby,”

“Okay.” You sit up and get to work, quickly stripping off your clothes so Seungcheol climbs off of the bed to force his fitted trousers off of his body along with his boxers.

When he kneels back on the bed naked, he finds you already laid there utterly nude with legs spread in wait for him to join you.

“How the fuck did you strip so fast?” He gawps, running his hands reverently over your thighs as he settles between them on his knees.

“Years of practise,”

“Stripping?”

“Had to be prepared for the day you give in to my seduction.”

“Well…good job,” he leans down over you, hands propping himself on the mattress so that he can kiss you.

“Thank you,” you preen and run your hands up his sides to take the chance to touch as much of his strong torso as you can for the first time. You can’t fucking wait to spend the rest of your life touching him up. It’s going to be great. “Now, cock please,”

Seungcheol chokes on a short laugh at your words. “Good use of manners, sweetheart,”

“I thought so too. Definitely deserves a reward,”

“Mm,” he shuffles down a little so that he can wrap his full lips around your left nipple and suck harshly, intent on starting his plan to cover you in hickies and hand prints to mark his property.

“That’ll work,” you mutter, lacing fingers in his hair to encourage his mouth against your breast. “Not cock but it’ll do for now.”

“Shut up,” he laughs against your skin.

“Make me,”

“Brat,”

“You like it,”

“I do,” he sighs before moving one hand over your chest and throat until he can press against your parted lips. There’s no resistance at all, your jaw dropping enough to allow his middle and ring finger to slide into your mouth. “Good fucking girl,” Seungcheol praises in a low, rough voice as you instantly start to suck at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and between them with happy little moans.

Seungcheol keeps his mouth against your body, sucking and biting violent looking marks into your skin until he’s satisfied with his artwork. He moves down, dragging the fingers from your mouth as he does, smearing your own saliva in a trail all the way until he’s laid on his stomach between your thighs and attaching his mouth to your clit in the same moment he pushes those two wet fingers into you.

“Cheol,” you breathe out, pushing down against his fingers so that he doesn’t even dare think of waiting. He hums against your clit, making your thighs tighten momentarily before he starts to work his fingers in rapid movements that make your eyes flutter and fingers grip at him.

As your nails drag over his shoulder lightly, Seungcheol moans and arches up towards your hand, urging you on, encouraging you to grasp at him. Dig your nails in until he hisses and fucks his fingers into you harder and faster.

“H-how much can you take?” He asks, leaning up on his free hand, mouth and chin smeared with your arousal.

“Anything,” you promise, feeling as desperate as the wild darkness in his eyes tells you he feels.

Seungcheol nods and pulls his fingers from you as he moves up onto his knees. He doesn’t even ask you to move, just grabs you and manhandles you onto your front, chest against the mattress and hips up just enough to give him a better angle to begin sliding his thick cock into you.

Maybe you hadn’t been quite as ready as you could’ve been. As you perhaps should’ve been. It’s been a while since you put anything but your fingers in your pussy for a quick session since moving away from the city.

Living with your nosey ass best friend doesn’t give you the freedom to get your toys out as he seems to have the uncanny ability of popping up and making a big deal out of it. Lots of screaming and acting like he’s been visually assaulted. You do the same to him. Your relationship is full of a lot of love and mutual, mature respect, clearly.

It’s a tight fit and Seungcheol grips your hips tight as he painstakingly splits you open with his mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. Not that you can see. Or have the mental capacity to do anything but grip the pillow and almost suffocate yourself in it with the way you press your open mouth against the material.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he pants when he stops before he’s even buried his entire length in you. “Baby, I don’t-I don’t know if this is a good idea, fuck,”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him while reaching back to grab his ass and stop him from pulling out like he starts to.

“I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Then I’ll do it,” you huff and push yourself up onto your hands. Admittedly, shaky hands but you’re too focused on your task to care. Too stubborn and desperate to get obliterated by his cock.

“Babe-”

“Shut the fuck up, Choi Seungchol,” you demand, pushing yourself back harsh enough that he flails and drops down onto his haunches as he swears, hands still gripping you though. His mouth says one thing and his body another.

It’s a task getting your body upright until you’re on your knees, hands free to hold onto his forearm and thigh but when you do, you only take a moment to stop the spinning of your mind before you start to bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, spreading his thighs a little wider and rolling his hips in time with your bouncing. He’s not thrusting but his minute movements help to open you up a little more with every slap of your skin against his.

This position isn’t very practical for you, not with Seungcheol. Not when it makes his cock feel even bigger than it actually is and your whole body trembles as it presses and drags against your walls in ways that feel like utter sin. You’re dripping all over him, ruining the bed and you don’t even care. Neither does he.

“Your turn,” you murmur, falling still on his lap as you lean back against his chest to catch your breath at least a little and give your burning thighs a break. It’s a lot more work to ride him like that than you expected. You’ll have to take up a new workout routine so that you can do it for longer next time. You’re determined.

Seungcheol takes the moment of calm stillness to brush his lips over your shoulder and let his hands explore over your chest and spread-thighs.

One of his hands trails between your legs to feel at where your pussy is spread around his cock. He makes a low, pleased sound before abruptly rubbing quick harsh circles over your clit. You shriek in surprise, body tensing at the sudden attack and nails digging into the skin of his thighs under your own.

“You gotta cum first,” he informs, stopping his circles for only a second to bring his hand back then down, landing a firm slap to your clit and making your body jerk as you moan brokenly. “That’s my dirty girl, fucking knew you’d like this,” his tone is nothing but aroused and approving as he slaps your clit again while holding you in place with his other arm wrapped securely around your waist with his hand on your chest. “You’re gonna cum like this, understand?”

“Cheol-”

“I said, do you understand?” Another slap, this one harsher in a toe-curling way, before he drags his palm and fingers over your clit in a way that could be considered almost soothing if he wasn’t pressing as firmly as he is.

“Fuck, y-yeah. Don’t stop.” You agree, nodding where your head is tilted back against his shoulder. “But,”

“What?” You don’t answer verbally and instead grip his left wrist to pull his hand up from your chest and to your throat. “I fucking love you,” he declares before squeezing your throat at the same time as he sucks on the side of your neck to create a new claim, his right hand moving to slap your clit in rapid succession.

It’s only a few seconds of the combination, the intense pleasure from all melding together and sending a sharp orgasm through your body. Your body moves naturally as if trying to fight it and get away as you gasp for air you can’t get yet. Your nails drag deep red marks over his skin that only encourages him to fuck up into your convulsing walls.

“Good, good,” he breathes against your neck and drops his palm from your throat back to your chest, both so that you can breathe clearly and so that he can hold you to him. He doesn’t stop playing with your clit though, his hips humping up into you and barely moving his cock but it’s still almost too much stimulation.

The first orgasm is barely even over before another rocks through your body.

This time, Seungcheol removes his hand from your clit, giving you some respite and murmurs praise against your shoulder the entire time it takes you to come down from the combination of both climaxes.

“You okay?” He asks gently when you turn your head to blink your eyes open and peer at him. You hum and nod, giving him a dopey, sated smile that makes him laugh. “Can you take more?”

“Whatever you’ve got,” comes your confident response.

“That’s my girl,” he smirks, looking nothing but proud of you and your pussy for being able to handle his thick cock. You’d puff like a peacock if, you know, you weren’t human.

Seungcheol takes a moment to just kiss you, lips and tongue meeting languidly as best as you both can considering the angle. You personally think it works very well and you’d give you both top marks.

And then he pushes you down against the mattress, one hand on the back of your neck to keep your cheek smushed against the pillow and his other hand holding your hip firmly to fuck into you in a brutal manner.

The headboard knocks harshly against the wall with every powerful stroke of his hips. The back of your thighs and ass are already starting to sting with the strength of his thrusts. His fingers bruise marks into your hip and neck as he hold you securely in place and forces you to just fucking take it.

And you’re in heaven.

If you weren’t in love with the man before, you sure as fuck are now.

Nobody has ever fucked you like this. Nobody has handled you so well in every way. And you just know with everything in you that nobody else ever will.

You’re definitely gonna marry the fuck out of Choi Seungcheol.

It doesn’t last much longer really, not that you can really blame Seungcheol considering he sat there and felt your pussy squeeze and cream over his cock twice already; and now he’s battering your walls so perfectly in a way that borders on pain in the most delicious of ways so you’re squeezing him all over again in minutes and almost screaming into the pillow as he forces another strong climax from your body.

You don’t even have the mental clarity to realise he’s stopped, his hips juddering against you as he cums as deep in you as possible with a string of low, rough moans with your name sprinkled in.

“Oh, fuck,” you grunt when he lowers your hips to the mattress without pulling out just so that he can almost flatten you under his own body weight. You know he’s not entirely laid on you, you can feel the bulge of his biceps against your upper arms as he holds himself up just enough to not squish you.

“Shut up, you said you can take anything I give you,” he reminds in between pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your neck.

“Meant your giant cock, not giant ass.”

“You love my giant ass.”

“Mm. So, can I peg you?”

“Can’t we just enjoy the post-sex bliss without you ruining it?”

“No.” You wiggle your ass making him groan and then bite your shoulder in retaliation.

“Don’t get me hard again, I’ll pass out if we go again before I sleep.”

“That’s not a problem, unless you squish me, or go soft.”

“Are you implying you’d carry on fucking even if I pass out?”

“What? Because you wimp out, I have to suffer?” You scoff and wiggle again. “Got a problem with me using your body when you’re unconscious?”

Seungcheol is silent for a moment in thought. “Just don’t stick anything in my ass.”

“Mm, I can accept that. I want you to be awake when I ruin you anyway.”

“I really don’t know what I’ve got myself into with you, do I?”

“Nope.” You grin over your shoulder at him. “You said you’ll marry me, you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I think I’m okay with that,” there’s a smile on his face as he moves off of you so that he can turn you enough to comfortably kiss you in a way that feels something like a promise.

A promise to be okay with your endless depravities. A promise to marry you as soon as possible and buy a house together. A promise to spend the rest of his life loving you, his utterly bat-shit crazy troublemaker.

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nanaslutt · 8 months ago

Text

panty theif revamped

ʚ pairing: perv!geto x reader

ʚ incl: fem reader, established relationship, panty theif geto, nudes, masturbation, sexual tension, dirty talk, public teasing, car shenanigans, oral (m!r), hand jobs

ANYONE UNDER 18 AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Gonna go to the bathroom, go ahead and order for me if the waiter comes while I'm gone." Geto smiled before pushing himself out of the booth in the corner of the establishment the two of you were tucked away in. The two of your schedule finally synced up and you could actually go on a proper date for once.

You couldn't help but watch Geto as he made his way to the restroom, more specifically how good his ass looked today, complimented by his tiny waist. You always did love it when he wore tucked-in dress shirts and slacks. His hair was half up, half down per usual as it swayed back and forth with his stride, caressing the cloth of his shirt on his back.

You were shocked out of your trance when the waiter appeared a few seconds later, ready to take you and your boyfriend's order. The kind man collected your menus and left quickly, making his way back to the kitchen to relay your orders to the chef. You glanced around the dim establishment, distracting yourself with the intricate paintings on the walls, waiting for Geto to come back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your small bag that rested in the corner of the booth against the wall. Normally, you wouldn't check your phone since you were on a date, but you could only stare at the paintings and pretend to be interested for so long. As you pulled out your phone and looked at the small screen, you were shocked to see a hidden message from Geto himself, a picture.

Just when you went to unlock your phone, Geto gripped the side of the table and slid back into the booth, looking as casual as ever. "Sorry to keep you waiting, did the waiter take our orders already?" Geto was acting like he didn't just send you a message. Your curiosity got the better of you as you held your phone out to him and showed him the message he just sent you, still locked, sitting on your preview screen.

"Why did you just text me?" you asked, confusion laced all over your tone. Geto smiled and rested his head on his palm before making an expression of feigned ignorance and confusion, a poor one at that. "I don't know, maybe you should look," Geto suggested, his voice revealing hidden mischief. You slowly turned your phone back towards yourself while keeping your eyes on Geto, squinting at him briefly, trying to guess what he was up to.

You looked behind you to make sure no one could see your phone just in case it was something inappropriate. Turning down the brightness, you unlocked your phone and clicked on Geto's chat, only to be met with the most shocking image you'd ever received from him. Quickly, you turned off your phone and flipped its screen down before your eyes shot up to his, wide, exasperated expression saying your words for you.

"What was it?" Geto asked, smiling at you with his eyes closed. Just before you were about to speak, the clanging of metal hit your ears, changing your attention. "Oh no, I dropped my utensils. Would you mind getting them for me, baby? You're smaller, you can fit under the table more easily." Geto asked, explaining his reasoning for asking you. You didn't trust him in the slightest, already knowing from that picture what he was up to.

Shaking your head and sighing, you bent your body to the side and leaned your head under the table, reaching for the utensils that rested by his feet. Geto gently kicked his foot against yours, making your eyes drag upwards to where he wanted you to pay attention to the most. Your jaw fell open in disbelief when you were met with Geto's big fingers toying with fragile straps of frilly fabric under his pants that rested on his hips.

A bit of his skin and stomach peeked out for your eyes and your eyes only, as he untucked a corner of his shirt for you to see better. Forgetting all about the dropped utensils, you quickly came back up from under the table, just nearly missing hitting your head on the corner of it. Geto smiled, his arm movement being blocked by the table, looking like he was tucking his shirt back in his pants.

"You- my- why are you-" You struggled to find your words, your heart felt like it was going to break through your ribs and beat out of your chest. "Hm?" Geto hummed, licking his lips and rolling his head, looking like he was trying to hold back. You maintained eye contact with him, letting your words sort out in your head before you spoke. "Suguru, why are you..." You took a moment to look around the room, making sure no one was in earshot to hear what you were about to say.

"Why are you wearing my panties?" The dimples in Geto's cheek deepened as did his mischievous smile as the man leaned back against the booth cushion and crossed his arms over his chest. "They're so pretty on you, wanted to see how they would look on me," Geto said, carefully watching your reaction.

The picture he had sent you in the bathroom was of him standing in the mirror, handsome face looking downwards at the phone as he held it in the center of his chest. His pants were pulled down just under his balls, exposing his semi-hard cock barely fitting in a pair of your tight, lacy black panties. His balls were threatening to fall out of the fabric's constraints at any moment, and his dick? Well, it wasn't faring any better.

Half of his cock was poking out of the panties, his flushed tip resting against the skin of his pelvis, staining upwards thanks to the fabric. He looked so sexy, it was a shame you didn't get to look at the picture longer, but you would absolutely be keeping that photo somewhere safe to oggle later. "Suguru..." You whispered, voice full of need. You couldn't even be annoyed. Surprised? Sure. But he looked too sexy to be frustrated with.

And now that you knew what he was hiding all night, the thought of him walking around all day in your panties without you knowing sent a heat rippling through your body and straight between your thighs. Suguru could see right through you, could see how his little act was turning you on the longer you thought about it. The man across from you suddenly stood up and walked around the booth to your side, squeezing in without a word.

You tried to make room for him by pressing yourself into the corner of the booth, your bag getting squished against your thigh. "Suguru whatever you're trying to do, drop it. We can't do this here." You said as sternly as you could muster, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him. "I'm not doing anything." He replied. Just as he placed his hand on your knee, the server walked up to the table with your food, interrupting whatever it was you two were doing.

The man looked oblivious enough as he sat your food down, wishing you a good meal. You turned your head to look at the man next to you, ignoring your food completely. "Suguru take me home." You almost whispered, staring into his eyes. Geto smiled, rubbing his hand along your knee, the heat from his skin seeping through your skin. "Why?" He asked, feigning ignorance as he began moving his hand higher and higher up your thigh, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

You looked down at his hand and gripped his wrist with both of yours before you looked back up at him, a begging expression on your face. His fingers were only inches from touching you where you desperately needed him, but you knew you had to be the one to put your hand down and not let Suguru do something like this here, no matter how bad your body was aching for it. "You really wanna leave?" Suguru asked, tilting his head at you, his hand still gripping your thigh as he emphasized his words.

You nodded at him, the words failing to find your lips. Suguru nodded and looked away before he retracted his hand from your thigh and waved down the waitor. "I'm sorry to bother you, my girlfriend isn't feeling well. Is it alright if we get this packaged to go?" Geto asked respectfully, his voice as sweet as ever, giving no hint as to what he was actually feeling at the moment.

The young man made haste packing your food. Maybe three minutes had passed before he returned to the table with your food packaged with a lovely presentation. You made sure Geto tipped him well for his effort before you slid out of the booth, walking quickly in front of Geto, and leading him to the exit. "What's got you feeling so rushed, huh?" He asked cockily, reaching out from behind you and grabbing your hand, slowing you down as he walked at a snail's pace.

You pressed your lips together in frustration, only turning your head to look at him annoyed for a moment before you whipped your head forward and dragged your much larger boyfriend behind you.

Geto gripped your hips when you dragged him to your side of the car, pressing himself against you as he stood behind you. You gripped the containers of food tightly in your hands, your eyes falling shut as Geto's body heat enveloped your body. "Back up, let me get the door for you." You wanted to scream. You were so glad it was dark out and there was no one currently in the parking lot where Geto was doing this.

You swallowed hard before pushing yourself back against him. At first, Geto made no efforts to back up and allow you enough space to open the door, he just let you press your ass back into his obviously hard cock, tenting in his dress slacks. He kept you against him without moving for only a second longer than necessary before he backed up and reached in front of you, opening the passenger door for you.

You turned around and faced the man, his other hand that was on your waist sliding into his pocket as his eyes met yours. He watched you drag your eyes down his body to stare at the bulge in his pants shamelessly, your eyes staying there for a minute before you looked back up at him, obvious arousal written on your face. "Pervert." He joked, smiling at you as he watched you slide into the car, shaking your head in disbelief.

Geto walked like he had nowhere else to be around the car as he made his way to the driver's side, giving you plenty of time to wallow in your own arousal while you sat in the silent car. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when the driver's door popped open. You were about to be alone with him again like you craved ever since he sent you that filthy picture in the restroom.

Geto was silent as he slid into the car and closed the door behind him. He plugged his phone into the aux like normal and started the car, the cool air immediately blasting you in the face which he quickly turned down to a softer setting. Although you couldn't say you didn't appreciate the quick burst of air cooling you down. You gripped the seatbelt over your thighs tightly, staring at your own hands, the veins popping out from under your skin.

Your head jerked quickly over to Geto's side of the car when you heard the familiar clinking of his belt, followed by the sound of the leather sliding out from the belt loops in his pants. "What are you doing?" You asked softly, afraid to raise your voice higher than a whisper. The air around you was quickly heating up, your body too. Geto stayed silent, just a sinister smile on his face as he threw the belt into the back seat and began undoing his belt.

Your eyes were glued to the scene in front of you, you didn't dare take your eyes off his large hands. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent the moan that wanted to escape from between them when Geto lifted his ass off the seat and pulled his pants down to his mid-thighs, exposing his now fully hard cock barely covered by the tiny, flimsy piece of fabric hugging his hips so tightly. Suguru bunched up his shirt in his hands, allowing you to see a little of the black tuft of hair that rested above the base of his cock, letting you see everything unobstructed.

Suguru could feel his cheeks burning under your gaze. His cock twitched and dripped pre-cum from his sensitive tip, wetting his skin. He kept his lidded eyes on yours, watching you watch him. He saw the way your hands gripped the seatbelt tighter as you resisted the urge to pounce on him right then and there. "Do you like it?" Suguru asked, wiggling his hips at you.

You brought one of your hands to your mouth and covered it tightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you took in the sight of his pretty cock. "Fuck... Suguru." You whined behind your hand, pressing your thighs together. You had never thought about something like this before. Suguru wearing your panties? Why would you? But you were starting to think you should have a more creative imagination because this was turning you on more than you thought it would.

Suguru smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose before he reached down with his hand that wasn't holding up his shirt and teased his fingers around the head of his cock. His tip twitched at the stimulation of him rubbing his fingers around it, rubbing his precum all over it. "Tell me what you're thinking," Suguru asked, his smile starting to fade the more his arousal grew, his expression turning more like yours, pure lustful.

You stayed silent, only the loud sounds of your breathing echoing inside the car. "Talk to me baby, did this for you," Geto said, wrapping his hand around the part of his cock that was sticking out of the panties. His balls were barely contained against the thin fabric, they looked ready to fall out at any moment, so strained against it. You were becoming hypnotized watching Geto stroke his cock, watching his chest rise and fall more frequently as he got off on being watched by you.

Your resolve snapped when Geto squeezed his tip firmly on the upstroke and a choked moan was forced from his throat. You unbuckled your seat belt and leaned over the center console in one swift movement, your body resting against it as you rested your hand on Geto's thighs, keeping yourself stable. Geto leaned back when he saw you coming over, almost on instinct, even though neither of you had fooled around in the car before.

You grabbed his hand that was wrapped around his cock with one of your own, forcing him to stroke himself downwards so the tip of his cock poked through the hole his fist was making. You wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and dragging it across his head, before taking his tip into your warm mouth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head and his jaw dropped open in a moan as he felt your tongue swirl around his sensitive cockhead.

"Oh shit..." He groaned, looking down at your head in his lap. You grabbed his wrist and forced him to let go of his dick. Geto obeyed and placed his hand on your lower back, rolling his head against the back of his seat. His other hand rested comfortably on top of your head, fighting to not shove you down on his length.

His breathing had picked up considerably as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head down on him, only taking a couple of inches of him into your mouth at first, letting your saliva collect and pool in your mouth so it felt better for him, and made sucking his off easier for you.

You found his balls through the fabric of the panties blindly and grabbed ahold of them, noticing how strained and tight they felt in the fabric. "Oh fuck baby, f-fuck." Geto groaned, his abs clenching with his arousal as you rubbed his balls through the fabric while sucking him off hands-free. You took the top half of his cock into your hot mouth, leaving the base of his cock still snug behind the panties, it was a sight to see.

"I'll take this as you liked my surprise?" Geto laughed, the sound turning into a breathy moan. You did your best to hum your approval around him, the vibration from the noise you made going straight through his cock, making his fingers dig against your scalp. "Fuck, don't try to talk while it's in your mouth," Geto warned, feeling his balls throb at the vibration.

If your mouth wasn't stuffed full of cock, you would've smiled. Instead, you just doubled your efforts and bobbed your head faster, rolling your tongue all around the length of his cock, all the while still caressing his balls in your warm hand. Geto's hips had started to leave the seat as he thrust shallowly up into your mouth, making his cock hit the back of your throat.

"This feels so. fucking. good." Geto moaned wantonly through his teeth, his lips pursing around them as he spoke. "D-deeper, take it deeper baby, please." You moaned around him again, making him release his own sound of pleasure before you took him deeper into your throat, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to get used to it. The fabric of your panties was rubbing against your lips as you pushed it out of the way with your mouth the deeper you went down on him.

Suguru's groans had turned into gasps and higher-pitched moans at this point. His hand trembled against your head as his body registered all the pleasure you were giving him. You popped off his cock with a small 'ahh' sound, a bit of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock, which you quickly wiped away.

Your arm was weak, but you used all the strength you could muster to push the front half of your body up as you brought your face in front of Geto's. You licked your lips and smiled as you pressed your lips against his, swallowing up his groans as you continued rubbing his balls, his cock twitching from that stimulation alone. Geto pressed the back of your head against him harder, keeping your lips locked with his.

You were almost too busy tangling your tongue with his to feel the constant, repetitive pounding of Geto's hand against your own that was caressing his sack. Cracking your eyes open, you looked down at his crotch and saw Geto jerking himself off furiously, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You were unable to resist staring at the thin black straps of the thong resting on his hips, he looked so fucking sexy it was making it hard to breathe.

"Hey, stop getting distracted," Geto whined breathlessly against your lips, noticing how you stopped kissing him back with the same urgency. You pulled away entirely, making him pout, as he continued stroking himself off while looking at you, his hand that was holding the back of your head caressing down between your shoulders. "I wanna look at you." You said, rubbing his thigh under your hand.

"Take a fucking picture, I need you right now," Geto begged, the saliva and precum on his dick creating the lewdest squelching noise. You raised your eyebrows in surprise before you smiled and tilted your head at him. "You serious?" You asked, feeling another wave of warmth jolt through your body. "Yes, take a fucking picture and put your lips around my cock again. Gonna cum." Geto said urgently, nodding towards his phone under the dash.

You wasted no time in reaching over for it and sliding over the camera. You leaned back a bit to get Geto fully in the frame, smiling to yourself as you hid behind the camera. "Say cheese." You joked, Geto making no effort to stop what he was doing as the flash lit up his body. The second the photo was over, Geto griped your hand holding the phone, and forced it down into the cup holder. "I'm gonna cum." He said breathily, his hand sliding up your back to hold the nape of your neck again, forcing you back down to focus on his cock.

Geto had no idea what had happened, but the second you took a picture of him, his orgasm went from behind five minutes away, to thirty seconds away. Seemed like everyone was finding something about themselves tonight. Geto held the base of his cock for you, keeping his dick steady as you wrapped your lips around him again and replaced his hand. Geto gripped your hand that rested on his thigh, his fingers wrapping tightly under your palm.

"Oh fuck baby, I'm so fucking close." Geto cried, his thighs clenching and unclenching as he felt his orgasm approach. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock as you let his hand control your pace as he curled his fingers into your hair and aided you in bobbing your head on him. "Take it baby take it, s-swallow it all." Geto babbled, his balls twitching under your hand.

"Oh fuck- fuck- fuck-" Geto's voice got higher and higher in pitch, his eyes squeezing firmly shut, his mouth opening in a wide O before his orgasm crashed over him. His body curled in on itself with each wave of his orgasm. "H-hah ahh-" Geto moaned as he felt hot ropes of him shoot out of his balls, immediately being greedily sucked down your throat.

You continued moaning around him as you gripped his hand tighter for support, fighting the coughs and gags that wanted to spill from your throat as he forced his cock full inside your mouth, using your throat to drain his balls completely. You pulled off with a gasp, your hand coming to wipe away the mix of saliva and cum on your lips and cheeks.

Geto's cock had started to soften, and not even then did it fully fit in the panties he was wearing; your panties. You swallowed one last time and sat up, pressing kisses to his Adam's apple, up his chin, and finally finding his lips. Geto kissed your back lazily, his eyes still shut and head resting back against the car seat as he tried to come down from his high, his body limp and shaky.

You smiled and left a small peck on his cheek before you reached down and grabbed his soft cock, feeling it twitch weakly in your hold as you tried to stuff it under the flimsy panties, to no avail of course. You zipped his pants back up, hiding his spent cock away, and tucked his shirt messily into his pants. He looked like he just got the soul sucked out of him.

"You okay?" You asked, sitting back in your seat and caressing his cheek. Geto nodded, his head falling in your direction as he looked at you, eyes lidded and face red. He leaned into your touch, letting your soft hand sooth him further, he looked ready for a nap. "That felt so fucking good, I love you so much." You giggled at his exhaustion and praise.

"I love you too, do you need me to drive?" You asked, your hand falling from his face and resting on his thigh. "Yeah, let me be the passenger princess for once." He replied, nodding at you. "I'll take care of you baby." You smirked, laughing through your nose. Geto smiled before his face scrunched into a discomforted expression, his hips wiggling against the car seat.

You tilted your head at looked at his bottom half in question, "You okay Sugu?" You asked. Geto made a noise of discomfort as he answered before he grabbed at the fabric of his pants on his hips. "I've had a thong shoved up my ass all day. The pleasure made me forget it but now that I'm spent I can feel my ass throbbing." You did your best not to giggle too loud as you laughed behind your hand. "How do you wear these things all the time? They're sexy as hell but if it feels like this I don't know if it's worth it." Geto complained, wiggling against the seat some more.

"Well I'm pretty sure those are waaaay too small on you so... that might have something to do with it." You answered. Now that you thought about it, Geto was s bit more fidgety than usual today. You had chalked it up to him being uncomfortable in such a stiff suit he didn't wear often. Little did you know what the real culprit of his squirminess was.

"I'll get you home asap so we can get those off of you, okay?" You giggled, rubbing his thigh in comfort. Geto made a noise of acknowledgment and gave up on wiggling around in his seat, knowing it was doing nothing for him except maybe making it worse. "But before we do I need to see how good your ass looks in this thong." You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Geto laughed through his nose and made a move to open his door so the two of you could switch seats before he turned back to look at you. "You might cream your panties, but I'll let you look all you want." Something told you he was right and it was going to end in a round two.

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months ago

Text

hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #jewel writes

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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 months ago

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LADS Zayne: Hard Day in the Office | NSFW

One of my buddies really wanted Zayne jacking it in his office. And so did I. So I did it. Here's a masturbation fic of our favorite doctor.

Unedited Drabble

Pairings: Zayne x Reader Warnings : Masturbation, Public Office Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

He had thought he handled the situation well. Your appointment had been going well, for the most part. Other than a little playful banter, it had been professional. Just like every appointment with Dr. Zayne.

Then the end of the appointment had come, and you had gotten a bit more casual with the doctor. Placing a hand around his arm as you spoke with a smile on your face, asking him what time he got off today in case he wanted to get dinner after his shift. It was sweet, it was innocent.

So why had Zayne's head gone to the gutter the moment you laughed and told him you'd see him later.

You had left him alone in his office, alone to his thoughts, and not a single one could be considered even somewhat professional. Instead the only thing he could think about was how uncomfortably tight his pants were, and how hot his office suddenly had gotten.

Zayne had checked the time at his computer, looking it over and sighing in frustration. He had at least half an hour before he had to see his next patient. At least if he had work to do, he could distract himself easier. Instead he was at his office, alone, for half an hour.

Trying to do paperwork was basically a lost cause as he shifted in his chair and winced when he could still feel his erection. With a resigned huff, Zayne got up and locked the door to his office before going back to his chair. Behind his desk, even if someone had walked in, they wouldn't be able to see him.

He sometimes hated how complex his clothes were as he began working his belt off and unzipping his pants. He didn't bother fully taking anything off, instead grasping his hard cock and letting out a soft grunt in response.

He was already so damn worked up from you as he used some of the pre cum at the tip to help him glide along his length. His breathing was already a bit shallower as he worked his dick, thinking about all sort of scenarios.

What would you look like underneath his desk at this moment. He could perfectly envision you under the large desk, away from view. Your mouth teasing him through his clothes and you nuzzled up against his thighs, asking him what he wanted. His hands going through your hair as he guided you closer to his cock and your smaller hand going to unzip him and pull out his length.

Zayne squeezed his own cock as he imagined how your mouth would feel. You'd probably be leaving butterfly kisses along the length of it, kissing upwards to tease him until you took the head into your mouth. Zayne closed his eyes now, imagining all of this happening and covering his mouth with his free hand to help stifle the noises he was making.

The things he'd do to you…the things he'd let you do to him. Whatever you wanted he'd be accepting of it. On top, on bottom, switching it up, eating you out, letting you suck him off. If it meant he could be with you, he'd be willing to do it.

Another gasp left his mouth as he felt himself getting close, his pace picking up as he worked his cock. He just needed to cum, to get that release so he could focus on his job. He grunted again as he took in deep breaths.

Would you be willing to swallow it? Zayne had a fairly healthy diet if you didn't consider all the sweets. He'd be more willing to eat things that would make him taste better if it meant he could watch you. Have you sticking your tongue out, showing him his own cum painting your mouth, then swallowing his load.

That mental image was enough to throw him over the edge. He groaned as he felt the warm release coating his fist as he worked himself through it, no longer capable of hiding all of his noises. He was panting again, slumped in his chair as he looked over at the time. Only ten minutes had passed. He let out an almost pitiful huff as he sat back up, then heard his phone chime.

It was a message from you. A short one, giving him the location of the restaurant you wanted to try. He thought it over and blushed, realizing how hard his day was going to be when he thought about you.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Zayne Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Zayne #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #zayne x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne #l&ds zayne x reader #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads zayne x reader

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adalindofcabinsix · 5 months ago

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that kind of love never dies | chapter one

summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.3K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.

masterlist

Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.

i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant

if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow

i'll be waiting for you :)

Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.

After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.

All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.

Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.

She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.

For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.

Except, of course, the FBI.

Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.

Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.

Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.

Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.

After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.

She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.

She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.

“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.

The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.

“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.

She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.

Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.

Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.

“Someone would definitely approve of that.”

Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.

“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.

“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”

“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”

“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.

“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”

“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”

“Have fun, Cinderella!”

Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.

Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.

“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.

“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”

“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.

The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.

“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

#iamjake #duskwood #moonvale #everbyte studio #jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction

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writingsonsaturn · 8 months ago

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fake dating with tim bradford?

r needs a date to a family members wedding and she wants to go with a friend and tim is more than willing. unrequited love and maybe a little smut??

dress - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: omg 2 fics in one day?? anyways this is nastyyy smut lmfao enjoy!

word count: 2.2k

content warning: minors DNI, smut, oral (fem rec), fingering, talk of emotionally abusive parents?? if i missed anything lmk!

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Your head bobbed with stress, your sister's wedding was this weekend and you still hadn't been able to find a date willing to accompany you. You had thought it would be easy, the moment you mentioned there would be an open bar you imagined people would be more than willing, but alas you had been wrong.

“Hey, L/n! You almost finished with the case file?” your friend and coworker Tim Bradford asked, “yeah it's finished” you replied with a sigh. “Then what are you stressin’ over?” He sat in front of your desk with a comforting smile, “my sister's wedding is this Saturday and I need a date, but havent got one yet.” you let out an exasperated sigh.

Your mother has been on your case lately about getting your life ‘in order’. Constantly being compared to your sister was exhausting, you were never fast enough to catch up to your sister's achievements, and none of your own were good enough. “I’ll go with you” Tim interrupted your self-deprecating thoughts, “oh god Tim, you don't have to.” you tried to deflect but Tim insisted “hey, come on it'll be fun! And your mom already knows me so it'll be more believable if i'm your date then some random dude you met on tinder.” You smiled at his kindness.

You packed up your stuff, dropping your case file onto Greys desk. “Alright, well you can’t back out now. Saturday, suit and tie, four o’ clock.” you stated, pointing your finger at him. He smiled “wouldn't miss seeing you in a fancy dress for the world!” he shouted at you with a laugh.

Tim had always been your secret little work crush, he was kind to you and always had been. You both had a similar upbringing, and you bonded over that aspect. You had transferred into the precinct after moving from Orange County, you had decided you needed a new start and the LAPD had an opening for a detective and you decided to take the opportunity.

Your mother was less than pleased that you would be moving an hour away, but you were desperate to get out of her grasp.

When you left the station your cheeks were red, and flushed. A big smile was present on your face at the image of Tim being your date to your sister’s wedding. Besides the fact he was insanely good looking, he was also just a sweet and gentle guy. Which was the complete opposite of your sister’s soon-to-be husband, and you finally felt as if you were one step ahead of your sister for the first time in your life.

On Saturday morning, you got up earlier than usual to start getting ready. Your stomach had been twisted with butterflies all morning, your dress was a navy blue fitted dress with a slit that went to your mid thigh and had a square neck. The dress flattered every aspect of your body, your hair was done in a half up half down style with a slight wave, and your shoes were black heels with securing straps going up your calf and tying just under your knee.

The sound of your heartbeat quickened as the numbers on the clock counted up towards the time you had given Tim, as if the direct moment the clock struck four there was a knock on your front door.

Walking to the front door felt like it was taking forever, every millisecond it took you to walk to the door made your body fill with that much more anxiety. You opened the door to see Tim standing in a nice black tuxedo and a bowtie, “Oh wow, you know i’ve never seen you in a tux before but i think i like it” you snorted, walking out and closing the door to lock it. “Y/n you look-” Tim seemed flabbergasted, looking you up and down “you look absolutely beautiful” he finished his compliment.

You blushed at his comment whispering a silent “thank you” before you both walked to the car, Tim opened the passenger side door for you. He ran around the backside of the car to get into the driver's side, “are you ready?” he asked with a small hint of reassurement. “Yeah! Let’s get this party started.” your voice was flat and lacked enthusiasm causing Tim to let out a hushed laugh.

The venue wasn’t far, but the high tension in the car made the journey feel like an eternity. Tim barely looked at you and his knuckles were bright white with the grip he had on the steering wheel, you weren’t sure what was wrong, and you were scared to find out. You wondered if it was possibly because of the current case he was working, you knew he was put on the task of finding the drug lord and breaking into his circle but he hadn’t told you much about it.

You had simply just let it be, not wanting anything to cause your sister’s night to be ruined. Looking to your right you watch the trees pass, you become further and further away from the city.

The wedding had gone as good as expected, your sister was giddy and excited to finally solidify her man as her husband. Tim had to hand you a tissue after your sister said her vows, although the two of you had hardships she was still your big sister and you were more than happy for her.

“Fancy seeing you here Tim, I didn’t think y/n was going to show up with anyone. Let alone someone as handsome as you.” your mother remarked, causing your mood to dampen. Tim’s arm went around your waist, pulling you towards his body, “Actually, I wanted to be here. I'm surprised I got a chance with such a great woman” Tim’s stern face glared at your mother’s as he told her off, politely.

You hid your small smile, as your mother left with an annoyed look.

“Your mom is just ridiculous,” Tim laughed.

“Oh god, I know! I'm so sorry” you said with embarrassment.

You and Tim talked on your way up to the reception hall, the conversation flowed naturally.

For a second, and only just a second, you allowed yourself to imagine Tim as your lover, the ease that came with talking to him made him feel like a breath of fresh air. Your heart deflated when the false reality you had encapsulated yourself in for a second was interrupted by your sister coming up to you, “y/n your seats are over there next to mom’s table, please just try and be nice to her, don't ruin this night for me.” your sister spoke loudly, you just nodded and walked over to the table while Tim got you two drinks.

Sitting alone was awful, your mom had free reign to talk to you without another person around, and you had no way of defending yourself without her causing a scene. “I don’t know your game y/n, but Tim is too good for you. He deserves a nice, well rounded woman. Don’t force him into a relationship with you, because you and I know damn well you aren’t good enough for him. Don’t be selfish.” your mother finished, before going back to her table to fake kindness to the others.

Tim had noticed your shift in mood and he knew why, as he waited for the drinks to be poured for the two of you he watched your mother come over. He saw the way you shrunk into yourself and your eyes glossed over, he never liked your mom, everytime she would come into the station he noticed how you immediately changed your demeanor. The way your smile would falter and your back would straighten, he hated it.

He brought the drinks over to your shared table, “Here's the drink, sorry it took so long, i'm starting to think people just came for the free alcohol” Tim tried to cheer you up with a shitty joke. You smiled only to appease him but he knew you better than you thought, “actually could you come with me to the bathroom? I don't want to get lost in this place, I think it's haunted." This time Tim’s joke landed and caused a giggle to come out of you, “Yeah, I'll protect you from the big scary ghosts'' you joked, getting up from your seat to accompany Tim on his travels.

“The men’s bathroom is just on the ri-” you were cut off by the sudden pressing of Tim’s lips to yours, you immediately kissed back with vigor. He pushed your back up against the wall, As much as you wanted this all you could hear were your mom’s word circle through your head “Tim.. I- we can’t” you tried catching your breath.

“Why y/n? Is this because you don’t want it or because your mom told you, you shouldn’t?” he questioned with a stoic face, eager to get his lips back on yours.

“You deserve someone better than me, Tim”

“You are someone better, y/n” his desperate voice needed you to understand what he was telling you.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face, trying to determine your body language. “Yes” you said quietly, afraid that this was all some cruel joke. With that he continued to kiss you, pushing you into the bathroom.

You felt his warm hands roaming your body, “do you know how long i've wanted this? How long i've wanted to feel your breathing against my skin?” Tim questioned, his lips traveling down your neck softly. You wondered if this had been some kind of sick mind trick that was being stowed upon you in your dreams, but the euphoric touches couldn't be made up.

Your head lolled back against the door as Tim’s hot breath traveled further down your body, your dress preventing him seeing everything he wanted.

You whined at the loss of contact before you noticed where he had gone, opening your eyes, you looking down to see Tim getting his knees in front of you. “Oh fuck me.” you breathed out, Tim laughed at your reaction “I would like to, but im not gonna fuck you for the first time in a venue bathroom.”

The feeling of his lip’s returned to your skin, kissing agonizingly slow up your legs. He became increasingly closer to where you needed him most, your soaked core was pulsing for him, his soft eyes looked up at you smiling, allowing his hand to travel up your dress.

“No panties? Dirty girl.” he taunted your lack of clothing, you on the other hand didn’t wear underwear because you didn't want a visible panty line, but you were fine with this too. More than fine actually.

His fingers teased your wet slit, “where do you want me?” his crisp voice asks. Your breathing hitched at the feeling of his fingers still toying with your hole, “do you want me here?” he traced your throbbing clit, “or here?” he slid his finger towards your hole.

You were finally able to pull yourself out of the feeling to talk, “I want your mouth and your fingers everywhere” you whined. He decided not to torture you any longer, finally putting his head between your thighs and having his long awaited feast. You nearly doubled over at the feeling of his tongue against your hot cunt, you had dreamed of this moment hundreds of time’s when you were alone in your bedroom.

You gripped tightly at his gelled hair, “oh fuck, Tim” you moaned trying your best to keep your voice down, but you were failing, with how good Tim’s tongue felt against you, you wouldnt care if the whole world heard you moaning his name.

He continued his abuse to your clit while simultaneously circling your dripping heat, “is all of this for me?” Tim pretended to not know the answer, he wanted to hear you say it. “All for you Tim, always all for you” you didn’t realize what you had just admitted but Tim hadn’t cared to mock you for it as it only inflated his ego. “You should’ve told me sooner, could have started taking care of you a lot sooner, pretty girl.” he spoke against you before returning to suck at you bundle of nerves.

When he determined you were ready enough, he sunk a digit into your tight cunt. You moaned louder than you had intended, “i- im gonna come” your shaking voice exclaimed.

Tim only laughed, “Already, baby? Are you that deprived?” he said in a faux concern, groaning against you when you pulled on his hair again. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you, the coil in your stomach continuing to build and tighten before it finally bursted.

He slowed down his pumping, helping you ride through your orgasm. You were breathing heavily as he got up, he held you closely in his arms doing his best to keep you upright.

“Woah, baby, relax, i've got you” he whispered in your ear and carried you over to the sink, cleaning your mess up. “I don't think I can walk.” you joked, Tim stood between your legs rubbing your thighs soothingly. “It’s okay, i'm in no rush to get back out there believe me” he laughed and tried bringing you back down from the high you were still caught in.

“You wanna ditch?” you smirked with droopy eyes, “they won't miss me”

“Yeah let’s go, need to get home so i can fuck you right”

#reader insert #the rookie #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x you #tim bradford smut #tim bradford x fem!reader

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etheraltides · 14 days ago

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BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader

Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.

Warning(s): cursing, mention of grief, drugs.

A/N: I hope y’all like long chapter ‘cause your girl seriously got carried away with building things between them. Feedback is always heart warming <3!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter three: Can we call it truce? ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

The hum of the engines filled the cabin, lulling most of the passengers in the business class into a calming state. Most, that is, except for you. You sat beside Rafe, trying to focus on the book at hand, your foot tapping a frustrated rhythm on the floor as he sprawled beside you enough to invade your space, oozing an insufferable amount of calm. Even with the extra room, it felt cramped - his very presence seemed to fill the air in the whole plane. His breathing was annoying you.

Rafe, meanwhile, stretched out his legs, his arm draped across the armrest to the point his fingers would brush your knees if you moved just a tide bi, his gaze lazily drifting away from his phone towards you. "You look like you're about to combust or something." He murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "What? Didn't that douchebag do a good job with you?"

You gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to smack him across the face with your self-improving book, slamming its cover closed. The last thing you wanted was to have everyone looking at you as you shared your lovely words with Rafe. "Why the fuck are you so obsessed with him? Sounds like someone isn't getting laid..." You gave a cynical smile, thriving as you noticed the smirk dropping from his lips instantly. Now, that'd always be priceless. "I wouldn't be, if you didn't act like you owned half of my seat as well."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic." He stretched out further, nudging your eyeglasses as you tried to dodge your head but of course, his long arms would reach you. His smirk widened when you shot him a warning glare, almost as if daring you to do something. "You're by choice, remember? I can always tell Topper about that broken touron... Plus, I paid for both seats so I technically can be as comfortable as I wish."

"Barely." Your eyes narrowed, fingers clenching around the book. "One wrong move and I'm asking for a different seat."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening enough to grace you with a dimple. A ridiculous dimple that'd be adorable in anyone but not on him. "Go ahead. Maybe you'll find a seat in coach where you belong."

That was it. Without thinking, you raised your hand, drawing the attention of a flight attendant passing by as you smacked your book against his chest with the other, a small satisfied smirk on your lips as you heard him groan.

"Yes, miss? Can I help you?" The attendant's polite smile faltered as she glanced between you, clearly sensing the simmering tension. Even a senseless person could tell. Anyone but you two.

"Yes, actually." You leaned forward, using your best sweet voice but not even it couldn't hide the clipped tone completely. "Could I switch seats? I'm afraid I'd be more comfortable elsewhere."

The attendant looked at you, then at Rafe, and back again, her expression sympathetic but warry. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're at full capacity here in business class. I could check for a seat in coach, but..." She trailed off, her eyes shifting to Rafe's amused expression as he tried to cover his laugh with a cough.

The tension in your shoulders tightened, your jaw clenched as you forced a smile. That’s what you get for trying to be a good human being. “Never mind, I'll manage.. Thank you."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you. amusement sparkling in his eyes as he leaned back, satisfied. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He murmured, his finger hooking on top of you glasses again only to push them lower on the bridge of your nose before you slapped his hand away.

You ignored him, staring ahead and steeling yourself. Yet as the minutes passed by, his presence beside you felt unbearable. You could feel his gaze every now and then, could sense his satisfaction in your discomfort. When the plane finally touched down, you were nearly ready to explode and take the first flight back - but then you remembered your part of the bargain and something strange tugging at your chest.

Hours later, in the quietness of your hotel room, you inspected your dress in the mirror, mind turning over the insanity of this arrangement. Why had you agreed to this? You hardly owed him anything, especially not this. And yet, here you were, preparing yourself to play a role in his life that the mere thought of the idea made you want to throw up. Maybe, deep down, you'd wanted to help, wanted to see him succeed just this once - he had recently lost Ward so... Maybe you could cut him some slack just this once. But as you took one last glance in the mirror, your couldn't shake the creeping doubt that this was all a huge mistake.

By the time you arrived at the beachside reception, you were determined to remain calm, to put up with Rafe and all of this madness for one weekend. You'd view it as one of your college projects. A small leaf of kindness to a boy who lost his father. "I'm doing these for Topper." You thought to yourself. It'd be one less thing for Topper to deal with.

The sun was setting over the ocean, casting a warm golden glow over the guests. It was exquisite honestly. Small tables dotted the pavemented area, surrounded by low, flickering lanterns and decorated with delicate pinkish flower arrangements. The sound of waves mingled with the soft music being played by the band as people chatted and laughed. You inhaled deeply, letting the salty ocean breeze wash over you. It felt good to be away from home. You loved Outer Banks but the way people were always paying attention and gossiping about the smallest steps of each other made you feel like someone had a hand on your throat, cutting your air from time to time. Here, despite a few familiar faces, you didn't have to be Thorton's perfect girl nor live under your mother's pressuring expectations 24/7. Even if you were here to play a fake part, it felt a bit more freeing than being your family's fake part at home. You smoothed down your dress. You could do it and you would enjoy this weekend.

Rafe held back a smile as he shook the man's hand, his heart pumping with adrenaline and pride as South Carolina's biggest real estate agent said he'd love to see some of the properties Ward had left for Rafe back in Charleston either to sell or rent. Rafe needed money after his deception with the Golden Cruise and wouldn't use most of the properties now in his name - that'd be some easy way to make money. The man excused himself with a squeeze on Rafe's shoulder and for what felt like hours, he finally had a moment to breathe.

His gaze shifted through the crowd, looking for a specific familiar face he hadn't seen since they arrived at the hotel - part of him was afraid you'd turn your back and be on your way to Outer Banks now without a word. You hadn't come outside your room when he knocked earlier, though he hadn't exactly waited around to see if you'd answer. He counted to thirty before sending you a text with the location and hour. But now, with the deep hues of the setting sun casting an amber glow across the venue, he spotted you. Faster than he'd like to admit.

You stood on the edge of the terrace, deep in conversation with a small group. The soft fabric of your dress catching the light and floating with each of your movements and the kisses of wind. Rafe's jaw tightened as he took you in, the vibrant color of your dress constrasting with your sunkissed skin and the effortless confidence setting you apart from the crowd. Your lips curled into an easy, practiced smile as you listened to an elder woman, but your eyes held a spark he'd seen many times before - sharp, observant.

A guest brushed past him, and he blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. Shaking his head slightly, he turned and made his way over the bar, feeling the strain of your reality settle in his muscles. You'd worn him thin on the flight, the words you exchange a mix of cutting remarks and barely veiled insults. And yet, here he was, his gaze drawn back to you as if on a string.

While he waited for the drinks, he glanced your way again, just as you glanced toward him - though you looked away just as quickly, a subtle arch of your brow signaling that your attention was far from amused. Rafe's lip twisted into a smirk, though he couldn't shake the strange irritation knotting in his chest.

When he finally turned back with the drinks in his hands, you were nowhere near where he'd last seen you. Annoyed, he scanned the crowd, his brows drawing together. He had texted you to don't be all over the place by yourself, not wanting to risk you doing something wrong that would fall on him. Then, across the terrace, he saw you.

You finally managed to take a breath from your grandma's acquaintances, the tension ebbing away from your shoulders until you felt a hand on your lower back, guiding you forward. You could know it was him before you even looked. That scent of warm spices with a touch of amber. His touch was infuriating to raise a few bumps on your skin. His breath brushed your ear as he leaned closed. "Try not to get too lost in the view, sweetheart." He murmured. "We're her for business, remember? I need you around."

You bristled, shifting away from his touch. "I'm perfectly aware, Cameron. You think I'm talking to them because I'm having the time of my life?"

He laughed under his breath, the sound grating before he sipped on his whiskey. "Relax. You're wound so tight, it's a miracle you haven't cracked yet."

You gritted your teeth, sending him a glare. The comment hit a bit deeper than he probably meant to. "Maybe I wouldn't be if I weren't stuck here with you."

His eyes glinted with something unreadable. "Right. Because I'm such a nightmare." He gave you a once-over, an annoying cockish smirk curling at the edge of his mouth that could barely go unnoticed. Barely. "That's rich coming from the one rolling around with low-life tourists... Just don't embarrass me, alright?"

Your mouth fell open, anger flaring as you held the urge to roll back your eyes. Shit, he would never let you hear the end of it, wouldn't he? Well, you had tried to be civil but he wasn't really helping so two could dance. "Embarrass you? I think I should be the one saying that giving your... history."

"Let's hope so." He said, shrugging nonchalantly but you could notice his jaw clenching, the way he quickly brought the glass to his lips again. You had got him. "This is my reputation on the line, after all."

Of course, he'd give the last word. You felt the urge to shove him, to break through that self-assured arrogance. But instead, you squared your shoulders, grabbed the glass from his hand, and turned your back on him, weaving through the crowd on your own. The farther you were from him, the better. How dared he? Embarrass him? You? He should be thanking you and making sure you were content enough to don't simply abandon him, and not acting like an asshole. "But that was Rafe Cameron." You reminded yourself.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself talking to a few guests, your confidence growing with each conversation and familiar faces. This was more your territory than Rafe's. Some of them you knew because of your grandfather, the others because of your mother, having seen them in the events your family hosted throughout the year - coming from an influential family had its perks as much as it had its downs - but, of course, you wouldn't tell Rafe yet. Then, you notice someone.

Mr. Rossi’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he spotted you. He made his way through the small crowd, his gray hair neatly combed back, a hint of cologne trailing behind him.

“Ah, you have grown so much since we last saw you,” he said, his voice rich with genuine affection. He extended a hand, firm yet welcoming. His grin revealed lines carved by years of smiles.

Before you could respond, Mrs. Rossi appeared at your side, her silk dress rustling softly as she leaned in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Look at you,” she whispered with a warmth that made you feel instantly at home.

You took his hand, giving it a confident shake, your eyes sparkling. “Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, it’s so good to see you both!” A touch of nostalgia filled your voice, mingling with excitement. “And not just that,” you added, a playful lilt coloring your words as you shifted your weight, leaning slightly forward. “I’ll be taking my grandfather’s place in the upcoming tennis match this year, so... you two better come prepared.” You finished with a wink, your smile broadening as a flush of warmth crept into your cheeks.

Mr. Rossi let out a hearty chuckle, the sound resonating in his chest. He squeezed your hand before releasing it, exchanging a glance with his wife, who raised her eyebrows in mock alarm. “So, you’re the partner he’s been bragging about all lately.” He said, his tone laced with pride. He leaned slightly closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “I guess we better watch out, love” He said to Mrs. Rossi, who nodded with a conspiratorial smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Oh, we’ll be there.” She said, a teasing note in her voice as she crossed her arms gently. “But don’t think for a moment we’ll go easy on you.”

The three of you laughed, the sound weaving seamlessly into the lively background, quickly launching into conversation. You remembered Rafe detailing every single thing about the business partner he wanted to attract but you'd never linked that with Mr. Rossi, an old good friend of your grandpa. You wanted to laugh at the coincide of it all, ignoring the small part of you that worried he'd bring this eventually with your family around.

It wasn’t long before Rafe appeared, a new drink in hand, eyes narrowed as he assessed the scene before him. His gaze swept over Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, then settled on you, a flash of frustration momentarily darkening his features. He took a slow sip, composing himself before approaching with a casual stride, masking the tightness in his chest.

You felt the subtle shift in the room before you saw him, the energy becoming taut. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you glanced his way, catching his eye. Without hesitation, you reached out, your fingers curling around his forearm to draw him closer. “I imagine you’ve already met my boyfriend.” You said, the word ‘boyfriend’ laced with a playful edge that danced just shy of sarcasm.

Rafe’s expression softened as he took his cue, slipping seamlessly into the role. “Not formally.” He said smoothly, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes as he glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Rossi. “Rafe Cameron.” He added, offering his hand with a practiced charm that belied the tension beneath the surface.

Anne’s eyes lit up as she clasped Rafe’s hand, her touch light but approving. “You’ve got yourself a keeper, Mr. Cameron.” She said, her smile sincere as she exchanged a knowing look with her husband.

Rafe chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “I try my best,” he replied, casting a sidelong glance at you. “Though she makes it an interesting challenge.”

Mr. Rossi nodded, a hint of businesslike interest crossing his face. “Speaking of challenges, I hear your office has been making waves recently.” he said. “I’ll make sure to pay a visit while I’m in town for the match.”

Rafe’s eyes flickered with a moment of surprise as he processed the unexpected connection but remained composed. “We’d be glad to have you,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

You squeezed Rafe’s arm gently, catching the subtle tension in his jaw. “Looks like we’ll be keeping busy.” You said lightly, breaking the moment with a smile.

Mr. Rossi chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Indeed. I look forward to seeing just how much you both can juggle.”

The laughter that followed softened the air, weaving seamlessly into the lively atmosphere. Then Mr. Rossi checked his watch, saying it was time for his speech, joking about how he didn't want his daughter going bradzilla for his small delay.

You bit back a laugh, turning to Rafe. "You don't look happy, boyfriend." The word rolled off your tongue sweetly, a pout on your lips as a hint of mockery shone in your eyes.

Rafe's jaw clenched, and he took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. "You're awfully smug for someone who almost ended up in coach."

"Oh, come on." You retorted, leaning a little closer, your fingers opening the first two buttons of his shirt as you adjusted the collar, feeling a rush of confidence. God, it felt great to have the upper hand on him. "You needed me here tonight more than you imagined, huh? I'm the reason Rossi even bothered with you for more than a call from his secretary and an invitation to this."

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes looking down at your manicured nails on his shirt before he met your eyes, amusement flickering in them but it was laced with something darker. "Don't flatter yourself too much. He had already invited me here to discuss business. You're just playing your part to make me look more... stable."

"Sure... I'd hate for you to realize he'd avoid you in this crowd but yeah, suit yourself. Maybe I should get a cut of whatever deal you're hoping to land here."

Rafe smirked, leaning close enough that his breath ghosted over your cheekYou should push him away. Nope, couples don't push each other away. Playing your part. "Maybe you're enjoying this a little too much. I hate to say it but you look like you're having fun, princess."

Heat prickled at your cheeks as you realized his nearness, but you refused to back down. Couples don't push each other away and as he said, you were here to play your part. "Maybe I am. Pretending I'd choose you willingly has been quite the challenge though. I deserve a medal for this, maybe a Nobel."

Rafe chuckled, low and dark, your hand felt the vibrations on his chest as you tried to recall when you had rested them there. "Keep telling yourself that.”

You found yourself mingling with Mr.Rossi's daughter and her friends as the evening unfolded, laughing over shared stories about her soon-to-be-husband and single days while you sipped on champagne, letting yourself unwind in their easy company.

Across the terrace, Rafe nursed another glass of whiskey, his gaze wandering lazily around the crowd as he tried to pretend to be listening to whatever the man has been telling him for the past few minutes. He caught sight of a few men gathered nearby, theirs heads turned in one direction as they didn't bother to keep their comments to a low tone. His curiosity piqued - anything that wasn't the man talking the details about his basic sanitation network company. Rafe followed their line of sight and he froze, his glass top mid way to his lips.

There you were, surrounded by a group of women, your laughter light and genuine as you gestured with your hands excitedly, oblivious to the attention around you. You looked radiant, a far cry from the guarded, defensive person he was used to sparring with.

For a moment, Rafe felt his breath hitch. You looked... Happy, and there was something about that image, about you, that made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. He couldn't tear his gaze away, struck by how beautiful you looked when you weren't rolling your eyes or trying to push him away. Honestly, he couldn't even remember seeing you this carefree... Ever.

Then he caught the voice of one of the men beside him, a dark-haired guy leaning over to murmur to his friend. "Shit, man... I may shoot my shot. It doesn't look like she's with anyone here."

Rafe felt an unexpected, sharp pang on his stomach that quickly irradiated through him, and before he knew it, he was turning to the man with an arrogant smirk, an unmistakble edge to his voice. "She's taken, actually. My girl."

The man raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise and dissapointment crossing his face that had Rafe's smirk widening. "Really? Lucky bastard, hm. If I were you, I'd be as close as possible to her." He gave Rafe an amused nod, his eyes briefly running over your figure one last time before he turned back to his friends.

Rafe felt his grip on the glass tightneing, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his jaw. He was here for business. To show a clean image - he reminded himself.

As he dawned the rest of the liquor, the words that just spilled from his mouth echoing in his mind. My girl. His jaw clenched as the licour hit his throat, the reality of what he'd implied without thinking twice settling heavily on him. He wasn't jealous. Of course not. This was all just a part of the act, part of maintaining the appearances. He was just making sure they didn't ger the wrong idea - that was all. Definitely.

But as he looked towards you, he couldn't deny the surge frustration that rose in him when he saw another guy approach your group, a bright smile on his face as he joined in the conversation. He watched as you smiled back, looking genuinely delighted, your laugh seemed to pull everyone around you into your orbit. His fingers tightened around his glass again, and he felt a strange mix of pride and irritation twist inside him.

After a few minutes of watching, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Excuse me." He patted the sanitation guy on the shoulder without sparring him a glance nor bothering for a reply. He strode over, inserting himself into the circle with a charming smile, though his gaze was focused entirely on you. The other women greeted him with polite nods, but you turned with an arched brow when you felt his arm circling your waist, pulling you closer to the side of his body as if he had every right to.

"Having fun, baby?" He murmured, his eyes scanning your face, noting the soft flush in your ceeks - either from the champagne, him or your laughing, he couldn't tell. "Seems like you're doing better than I expected on your own."

"Why, jealous?" You teased, not missing a beat, a smirk curling at your lips as you caught the slight edge in his tone.

Rafe's smirk faltered for a split second before he forced a scoff. "Of you? Hardly. Just keeping an eye on things. After all, you are here with me, remember?"

Your gaze narrowed as he was the one to excuse himself earlier when both were walking around together and chatting with the other guests. The glint of amusement in your eyes told him that you weren't taking his words to heart. "Oh, I remember..." You replied, tilting your head to the side. "Just didn't realize you'd be so... attentive."

He shifted, suddenly a bit unsure. "I'm just... Making sure everything goes smoothly tonight, alright?" He muttered, sounding more defensively than he expected. "Look, it's not like I care who you're talking to or anything. We just have an image to keep."

You arched your brow, a playful smile tugging on the corner of your lips as you leaned a little closer, dropping your voice just low enough for only him to hear. "Good. Because I almost thought you were jealous, Rafe."

Rafe scoffed, straightening up and immediately tearing his gaze away from his lips to the ocean behind you. "Please. Like I'd be jealous over you... this." He waved a hand, gesturing vaguely at your figure, thought his eyes betrayed him, lingering a moment longer than he intended. Stupid dress.

The band started playing something softer and Lia, Mr. Rossi's daughter, grabbed the champagne glass from the people's hands, handing it to the first waiter that walked by. "Come on. I want all the couples dancing to this. I'd love to have it on footage."

You furrowed your brows, glancing over at her and then Rafe. The idea of dancing with him sounded absurd, even more in a crowd, making you hesitate for a moment but the mischievous glint in his eyes pulled you in.

Rafe held out a hand, his expression challenging. "What's wrong? Afraid you're going to catch feelings?"

You rolled your eyes, but before you could second-guess yourself anymore and make it suspicious, he took your hand and you let him lead you to the dance floor, feeling your heart speeding up. It's okay. It's just like midsummer - you repeated to calm yourself even if you always panicked during dances on midsummer, afraid that’d take a wrong step and all the heads would turn and see you.

The moment his arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, you felt a spark of electricity run through you. It was probably your anxiety, right?

The world around you seemed to blur, the hum of conversations fading into the background as he kept you close, his grip strong but not bruising. Firm as he pulled you into a gentle sway, his gaze locked onto yours with something that made your heart race a bit more. His hating gaze looked a bit different...

For once, you weren't fighting, weren't throwing sarcastic comments at each other. You were simply... around, moving in rhythm, caught up in a moment you hadn't ever thought possible. His hand was warm agaisnt your bare back, his touch not letting you move too far from him as he guided you.

Rafe's voiced dropped to a murmur, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. "You don't always need to be at my throat, you know?"

You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh escaping. Honestly, you couldn't even remember why it started but you were sure he had given you a reason. "And miss out on all the fun? Never."

He huffed a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth curving upward as he shifted his weight, leaning a fraction closer. The playful defiance between you seemed to thrum in the small space left between your bodies. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, but his eyes narrowed, holding yours with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “Careful, you might start to like me.”

For a heartbeat, silence settled between you, thick and humming, before you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, shaking your head as a disbelief chuckle left your lips.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck tired of holding resting his shoulder because of the height difference.

But as you looked up at him, the warmth of his hand on your back, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, even if it was just for a moment, you’d both let your guard down – and neither of you had hated it.

You and Rafe had just stepped off the dance floor, still laughing over the memory of Topper’s ridiculous stunt at last year’s family gathering. The thought of him, trying - and failing - at impressing everyone with his off-key karaoke performance that he had trained for weeks, was enough to keep the laughter bubbling between you.

“Honestly.” Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he didn’t break something. I’m not even sure how the microphone survived the entire thing.”

You snorted, your amusement lighting up the moment and you quickly covered your mouth, cheeks heating as you waited for Rafe’s teasing but he did none, the crease on the corner of his eyes deepening as his smile stretched. “I think the whole room aged ten years listening to him butcher that song. We should’ve charged tickets.”

Rafe’s smile softened, and for a moment, the usual tension between you both seemed to melt away. But before you could tease him further, a man approached, his expression serious, as if he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Rafe.” the man said, clapping him lightly on the back, his tone overly familiar. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your father. Losing him like that… it must be incredibly hard.”

Rafe’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He couldn’t even remember this man’s face. Probably someone that saw him and his dad in one of those award parties. “Thanks.” He replied, his tone polite but distant.

The man seemed to ignore the subtle shift in Rafe’s mood, continuing on with his monologue. “Yeah, I can only imagine. Your father was a legend - everyone respected him. I mean, not many people could’ve built what he did. A huge legacy. It must feel like a heavy burden, huh?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked to you. You could practically see the frustration building in him, but the man kept talking, completely oblivious to the discomfort he was causing or simply not caring enough.

“You know, the pressure of living up to someone like that…it’s gotta be tough. Everyone’s always expecting you to fill those shoes, to carry on the family name. I don’t know how you manage it, but it must be exhausting.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and Rafe was clearly struggling to stay polite. But before he could respond, you couldn’t take it anymore nor risk Rafe loosing his cool here out of all the places.

“I need air,” you blurted out, voice sharp and breathless. You placed a hand on Rafe’s arm, pulling at him urgently. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out or something. I just— I need to get out of here, baby.”

Rafe looked at you in surprise, his brows furrowing for a second before he caught onto it. He stood straighter, clearly thankful for the distraction. You gave him a small but determined nod, practically dragging him away from the conversation.

“Come on, let’s get to the beach. Now.” you added, not giving him a chance to argue. You tugged him harder this time, the tension in your voice sharp, hoping it was enough to convince the man to leave him alone for the night.

The man was still rambling, oblivious to Rafe’s discomfort. “It’s just… it’s not easy living with that kind of legacy, right?”

Rafe turned back to him with a forced smile, cutting him off before he could say more. “Sorry, we really need some air.” He said quickly, his hand around your waist as if you needed to be supported to the way. “She’s not feeling well, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay in the crowd.”

Rafe shot the man a tight smile. “Thanks for the condolences.”

The man looked confused but nodded. “Of course. Take care, Rafe.”

As you pulled Rafe toward the beach, you didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the terrace. You let out a shaky breath, your frustration turning into a quiet laugh of disbelief.

“You okay?” You turned your head back, looking at Rafe cautiously once both had put enough distance between the man, almost reaching the beach.

He turned to you, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “Yeah. Just… feels like everyone wants to remind me of it tonight.” he said, glancing back to the party before he glanced at you, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried keep his emotions at bay. He had lost the count of how many people came to talk to him about his dad and how impossible would it be to fill in his shoes. “You really saved me there.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“It was nothing.” You shrugged, letting out a long sigh as you felt the breezy air in your face.

Rafe gave you a grateful look, his stiff posture relaxing a little. “No, I’m glad you stepped in. That guy was relentless.”

You stopped just before you could step onto the sand and bent down to slip off your heels, the sound of your dress rustling as you lifted the hem to avoid dragging it through the sand.

Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, a mixture of admiration and confusion etched across his face as you balanced your heels in one hand. For a fleeting moment, you noticed a hint of something in his eyes, something that made your heart race. You released his hand to free up both of yours, but the sudden loss of his warmth sent a strange ache through you, as if you were missing it. Must be the chilly wind.

“Are you coming or what?” you called over your shoulder, a teasing lilt in your voice that made him smile.

The sound of the waves, rhythmic and calming, filled the space between you, casting a serene contrast to the fading noise of the party behind. The cool night breeze touched your skin, making you feel both exposed and comforted, wrapped in the solitude of the beach.

Rafe stood beside you, his features illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blunt, rolling it between his fingers with easy practice just to make sure it was tight in place. You watched him discreetly, curiosity stirring as he flicked the lighter and brought the flame to the tip. The brief burst of light illuminated his features – sharp jawline, focused eyes, the way his lips curved slightly as he took a drag.

You couldn’t look away, your eyes tracing the path of the smoke as it curled and rose, dissipating into the cool night air. It felt almost intimate, watching him like this, and you swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts when he turned and caught your gaze.

“Want some?” His voice broke the silence, low and inviting as he could sense your eyes on him.

A rush of nerves surged through you, mingling with anticipation. “I uh… haven’t smoked before. Topper always said it’d look bad for the family and that mom would disown me if she ever found out” you admitted, the corners of your lips lifting in a faint, rueful smile though your voice was quieter than usual, small.

Rafe’s brow arched, the shadow of amusement flickering in his eyes. If only you knew the things Topper did whenever he magically disappeared from the parties. “And what do you think?” The question was casual, but there was an edge of something deeper beneath it.

You took a breath, letting the salt-laced air fill your lungs. “I think I’m done caring about that.”

His smirk grew, and for a second, the intensity in his gaze softened. “Good.” He took another slow drag, the orange ember glowing against the dark, and held it out to you. His fingers brushed yours as you reached for it, a spark of contact that sent a shiver through you.

“Just inhale slowly, let it settle,” he said, his voice steady, a grounding presence in the rush of your heartbeat.

You brought the blunt to your lips, eyes flicking to him once more as you mirrored the movement you’d seen him make. The smoke tasted sharp, unfamiliar, and you exhaled with a cough, eyes watering slightly. Rafe’s smirk turned into a grin, warm and teasing. Almost proud.

“Not bad.” he said, amusement lacing his words. “Better than most the first time.”

A laugh escaped you, loosening the last of the tension. “I’ll take that.”

The two of you walked slowly, the cool sand shifting beneath your feet as the night deepened. The warmth from the smoke spread through your chest, lifting the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the way the moonlight traced the strong lines of his face.

“Do you smoke often?” you asked, more to break the silence than anything else and you wanted to slap yourself for the question. Really?

Rafe’s expression shifted, a brief shadow crossing his features. “Not really. Only when I need to clear my head.” He looked out at the horizon, where the dark sky met the shimmering waves as he took the joint from your fingers, taking a long drag. “It helps keep the noise out.”

A quiet understanding settled between you. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of what you didn’t say. “Losing your dad…”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, his guard slipped, cracking enough to allow you to catch a glimpse of the raw ache beneath. “Yeah.”

For a moment, the space between you felt smaller, the silence charged with shared vulnerability. You took another drag, the taste still foreign but less jarring, and exhaled slowly as Rafe’s eyes returned to yours, something unreadable in their depths.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer before he shifted his gaze back to the horizon, the moonlight casting a silvery sheen over the waves as they rolled in. For once, the silence wasn’t biting.

You took another careful drag, this time holding it a bit longer before exhaling, just like he did earlier, but you were still unable to get rid of the cough completely. The warmth in your chest spread further, easing the last traces of tension from your body. It was strange and exhilarating to be here, outside the lines your mom had always drawn for you, with him of all people.

Rafe broke the silence, his voice softer, almost contemplative. “You know, you don’t have to be ‘perfect’ all the time.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a hint of something unreadable in his expression. “It’s okay to let people see the real you. Acting like a human being and all.”

The words hit deeper than you expected. You looked down, your toes digging into the cool, damp sand. “I don’t even know who that is half the time" you admitted, the confession slipping out before you could stop it, swinging your heels softly to distract yourself from the embarrassment in your chest.

Rafe turned to face you fully, his expression serious but not hard. “Maybe it’s time you find out.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart stutter. You met his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fell away - the distant party, the rolling waves, the cool bite of the night air. It was just the two of you, standing on the edge of something that felt completely new.

Before you could say anything, he took a step closer, close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way the moonlight caught the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. The scent of smoke and saltwater surrounded you, heady and grounding, mixed with his perfume.

“Rafe…” Your voice came out quieter than intended, the space between you charged with tension.

He searched your face, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah?” His voice was low, a whisper meant for only you.

The truth is, you didn’t know.

You felt the urge to close the gap, to see what would happen if you let yourself fall just a little further into this to see where would it go. But before you could move, he reached out, fingers brushing your cheek as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was fleeting but sent a shiver down your spine.

What was happening?

“I kinda like this version of you.” he said, the honesty in his tone making your heart thump wildly.

For the first time in a long while, you felt seen - not as the person everyone expected you to be, but as yourself. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying. You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do too.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and without another word, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his fingers placing the blunt in front of your lips. The two of you walked without a hurry and direction, the few glasses of champagne you had earlier and Rafe's glasses of whiskey distracting both of you from the situation, from what it looked like and what it could possibly mean.

The air between you felt different now, the silence thick with something unspoken, the kind of tension that crackled in the spaces between your words. Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours a moment longer than usual before he shifted his gaze back to the horizon, where the moonlight kissed the waves in a dance of silver and blue.

A strange warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading through your body like the soft glow of embers catching fire. The world felt sharper - every scent, every sound more pronounced. The night air nipped at your skin, but it felt distant, almost dreamlike.

Then it hit you like a wave crashing against the shore: you had just smoked weed. You, the one who had lived carefully, each step monitored, each decision weighed against the unspoken expectations of your family, had done something completely impulsive. The absurdity of it made your lips twitch, and before you could stop it, a small laugh bubbled up from deep inside.

You covered your mouth quickly, but it escaped anyway - another giggle, this one louder and harder to contain. You shook your head, eyes wide with disbelief, and tried to stifle the sound, but the harder you tried, the more it slipped free.

Rafe's gaze flicked to you, his lips curling into a grin as he watched you. “There it is” he teased, a knowing lilt in his voice. “I was wondering when the giggles would show up.”

You shook your head in mock exasperation, still unable to stop the fits of laughter, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I just did that. I actually smoked weed. Oh my God. Don't tell Topper!" You looked at him with wide eyes, pointing a manicured nail towards his chest.

Rafe arched his brow, his head leaning down until his breath was touching your ear. “What’s your bargain?”

You blinked for a second, before you pushed his chest away, letting out a dramatic “Ew, Cameron!”

Rafe chuckled, his voice warm in the cool night air. “Welcome to the club, sweetheart. It’s liberating, isn’t it? Letting go for once?”

You nodded, the last of your giggles dying down as you met his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at you - understanding, maybe a little deeper than you expected. It made your chest tighten in a different way now.

“Yeah..." you whispered, your voice softer than before. “It really does.”

The next few moments passed in a quiet, comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft rush of waves against the shore. Every so often, a burst of laughter escaped you, and Rafe joined in, his chuckle easy and carefree.

By the time you reached the hotel, the city hummed with late-night life, a symphony of distant laughter and the occasional honk of a cab. The mix of champagne and weed had left your steps unsteady, your senses softened around the edges. Somewhere along the way, Rafe’s arm had slipped around your waist, steadying you as you swayed with a giggle. The warmth of his touch felt too natural, too easy for two people who supposedly couldn’t stand each other.

“You think we’ll make it to the room before I collapse in a heap of elegance?” you teased, the words slurred with playfulness, though a flicker of doubt clung to the end.

Rafe smirked, casting a sideways glance down at you. “At this rate? You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you over my shoulder already,” he said, voice threaded with a teasing edge, but there was a softness there, something almost protective, that he quickly masked.

You leaned into him, the movement instinctive, your giggle breaking free as you stumbled slightly. “Oh, please. I’m fine.” you quipped, tilting your head up, your eyes catching his. Without thinking, your hand pressed against his chest, fingers curving around the muscle beneath. You blinked in surprise before watching your brows at him. “Damn, nice boobs.”

His eyes widened for a split second before he threw his head back in a laugh, the sound reverberating through him and into you. “Jesus, Y/N.” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, an unfamiliar sensation he brushed off with a roll of his eyes. He caught your hand as it lingered, the playfulness replaced for a heartbeat with something charged, before he let it go with a chuckle. “Keep that up, and I’ll start charging for these services.”

“So that one was on the house?” you asked, your grin lopsided, unable to hide how much you were enjoying this rare break in your usual dynamic.

Rafe’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment, the walls you both kept between you forgotten under the haze of laughter and the city lights. “Depends. Will you keep assaulting me?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound a contrast with the rather quiet lobby but none of you could care less. For once, none of you were being bothered by the image that you were supposed to keep and the animosity felt like a distant memory, replaced by the sharp realization that maybe pretending wasn’t the hardest part after all.

Once inside the hotel, you both went straight to your hotel rooms. You fumbled for the key cards, sliding one into the door, but the red light blinked mockingly. You tried again, turning the card. Still no luck. Your frustration began to mount as you tried once more, and then again, but the door stubbornly refused to open.

Rafe stood back, watching with a bemused smirk. “Having trouble?”

“Are you serious right now?” you muttered, glaring at the door. “These damn things are broken, I swear.”

“Sure, sure,” Rafe said, his grin widening. “You’re not just the problem, huh?”

You shot him an exaggerated glare but couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up again. “I swear, it’s not my fault.”

“Right.” Rafe teased. “Because nothing is broken when you get involved.”

He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed. “Great.” he muttered, pulling the card out and trying it again, only for the light to flash red, mocking him. He tried once more - still nothing. His expression darkened with frustration.

“Rafe, are you sure you know how to use those?” you teased, leaning against the wall, an amused grin tugging at your lips.

He shot you a half-amused, half-annoyed glance. “I’m not an idiot.” he said, giving the card one last try before slapping it against his palm. “It’s the damn door.”

With a sigh, he turned to the door across from yours - the one that led to his room - and gave it a shot with his card. You leaned in just enough to watch, your curiosity piqued. He slid his card in, turning the handle with the same precision.

Nothing. Again.

“Well, that’s just great!” he muttered, letting out a punch on the door before he . He looked over at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

You snickered softly, crossing your arms. “Looks like we’re both stuck.” you said, your voice laced with teasing. “Are you sure you paid for the rooms, Cameron?”

Rafe shot you a playful glare. “I blame the hotel staff” he replied, rubbing his forehead as if this whole situation were somehow their fault. He shoved the card back into his pocket. “Let’s check the front desk.”

As you both headed toward the elevator, you couldn’t help but notice the faint frustration in his eyes. But there was something else there, too - a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night like he was trying to figure you out, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the situation.

The receptionist smiled sympathetically, taking the cards from you and swiping them through the system. You glanced over at Rafe, your eyes landing on his red, bloodshot gaze, and blinked in surprise.

“Damn, dude. What happened to your eyes?” you asked, voice a mix of shock and amusement.

Rafe shot you a side-eyed glance. “Shut up.” He muttered, but there was no hiding the playfulness in his voice.

You paused for a second, a small laugh escaping as your mind quickly connected the dots. “Wait, wait. You’re high as hell, aren’t you?” you teased with a grin, whispering as you thought the receptionist wouldn’t hear but the poor lady did a good job at pretending.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, smirking even more. “You’re real observant one, huh.” he replied dryly, his eyes narrowing as he watched the receptionist typing on the computer, ready to cause a scene.

Just as you were about to keep joking, Rafe suddenly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you. You blinked, a little surprised, but he just raised the phone to show you the screen with a smug look on his face.

There, right on the screen, was a close-up of your face – your eyes bloodshot and glowing red.

You froze, staring at it for a moment before your face broke into a laugh. “Oh my god, really?” you said, trying to stifle your giggles.

You leaned in to get a better look at the photo, your own laughter bubbling up. “That’s cute. We’re matching, Cameron!” you joked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe shook his head, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but there was warmth in his voice.

The receptionist checked the system again, then looked up, a surprised smile on her face. “Actually, I see that your rooms has been upgraded.” she said. “Mr. Rossi made special arrangements for you. You’ll be staying in one of our premium suites, with an incredible coastal view.”

Rafe exchanged a glance with you, both of you processing the unexpected news. "Upgraded?" you repeated, still a little disoriented. "Wow... really?"

The receptionist handed you two new key cards with a smile. “Yes, enjoy your stay. All your luggages and belongings have been transferred already.”

“Guess we’re living the high life now,” Rafe said with a grin, taking the cards from her.

You snorted at his words, still buzzing with laughter. “Yeah, right… Literally.”

You both headed to the elevator, your footsteps light as you approached the suite. As the door opened, you brows shot up. A king-sized bed sat in the center, surrounded by luxurious vintage furniture. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a panoramic view of the coast - moonlight glimmering on the water, the soft rumble of the waves reaching your ears.

But then you looked at the bed again, and your stomach sank as everything clicked into place. You slowly turned to face Rafe, wide-eyed.

“Wait… we’re sharing this bed?” you asked, the realization slowly sinking in.

Rafe snorted. “Guess so. Unless you want to sleep on the couch.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m not sleeping on the couch. But how are we going to-?”

“What? Afraid you’ll be tempted?” He arched his brow, a teasing smile on his lips as he already move to his side of the bed, kicking off his shoes.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’ll take the bed. You can take the couch.”

“Not a chance.” Rafe cut you off with a raised hand. “I’m not sleeping on the floor either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You paused, thinking it over. “Okay, here’s the deal. You take one side, I take the other. No crossing the line, no touching. Agreed?”

Rafe crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ll agree to those terms, for now.”

The two of you stood there for a long moment, an unspoken tension between you, both looking each other in silence as if in some sort of staring contest.

“Fuck, whatever.” You sighed, running a hand on your hair as you could feel your eyelids too heavy. “I’m too tired for this shit.”

The soft click of the bathroom door broke the silence as you stepped out, the quiet only punctuated by the steady thrum of your heartbeat. You hesitated, taking a deep breath before moving. The silk ivory nightdress you wore was far too short to be comfortable with someone else in the room. The fabric brushed high on your thighs with each step, and a delicate lace traced the neckline, dipping low enough to tease. A matching robe hung loosely around your shoulders, but it offered little coverage - just the pretense of modesty. You had packed it for the warm weather but you didn’t imagine you’d share a room with him.

You’d taken your time getting ready, hoping that by now, Rafe would be asleep. But as you tiptoed around the bed, trying to slip under the covers unnoticed, the soft click of the lamp switch made you freeze.

Warm light bathed the room, casting shadows that flickered along the walls. You felt his eyes on you, burning with a heat that made the silk on your skin feel even thinner. Rafe was propped up on one elbow, his hand the back of his head and eyes sharper than they should be at this hour. The smirk that curled at the corner of his mouth sent a shiver through you.

He let his gaze travel slowly, unapologetically taking in the way the nightdress hugged your body. The ivory silk clung to your curves, highlighting the bare slope of your shoulders and the length of your legs. The lace skimmed the line of your chest, delicate and inviting. His eyes lingered where the fabric dipped and rose, tracing every detail as if he were memorizing it.

“Couldn’t sleep…” He said, voice low, the tease there but edged with something that made your breath catch. “But I see I might now.”

A nervous laugh escaped you, and you pulled the robe a little tighter, though it did nothing to ease the warmth spreading through you. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” you said as if trying to explain yourself, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Rafe’s smirk morphed into something deeper, eyes glinting as he pushed himself to sit up, muscles flexing under the thin cotton of his shirt and you’d never admit your gaze wandering to the contour of his muscles. “With you bringing the bathroom down? Not a chance.” He paused, the humor giving way to a quieter, more intense look. “You know, you don’t have to hide.” he said, nodding toward the robe that you tightly wrapped around you as you were almost curling on yourself.

Your fingers hesitated on the fabric, heart pounding as his words settled between you. The buzz from earlier, the laughter and sharp words, had dulled into a warmth that made your skin tingle. Still clouded with the weed and the drinks, you take a deep breath and take off the robe, quickly sliding under the covers and pulling it up your chest.

“If you’re trying to make peace between us,” he murmured, eyes darkening as they met yours. “this is a damn good way to start.” The playful lilt in his voice didn’t quite mask the heat simmering beneath it.

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips lifted. “I thought the blunt of peace was already shared.” you said, voice soft but daring. The tension between you crackled, unspoken and electric.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he exhaled slowly. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the word low and rough, like it slipped out without permission. He dragged a hand through his face, eyes looking to the ceiling as his head hang back before he shifted, grabbing a pillow and placing it firmly between you on the bed, quickly turning off the lamp.

“Good night, trouble” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a mix of teasing and resignation, as if trying to convince himself more than you.

The corner of your mouth lifted, heart still racing as you pulled the sheets over you. “Good night, idiot.” you whispered back, the space between you feeling smaller than ever, despite the pillow.

The room settled into silence, but the tension hummed beneath it, making sleep a distant thought.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk @slutforoldermen @louxmcl @peter-parkers-gf @yootvi @v4mp1rr3

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron series

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 3 months ago

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Please can we have more Yan justice league?

Maybe the reader has a boyfriend in the military so she doesn't see him much and when he comes back to visit, the go on a fancy date before they crash it?

It would make it even better if they reacted to the boyfriend about to propose to her!

A Day in Life: Heartbreaks

Synopsis: A day in your life where your yanderes find a secret of yours and tell you another one.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Modern!40s!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Tw: Bucky you’re one of my fav characters from Marvel, I'm so sorry I did u dirty😭; Heavy mentions of cheating and NO forgiving; Stalking; English isn’t my 1st language.

Word count: 1k

Requested? Duh.

Extra notes: I should be studying instead of writing this. Also omg I got so many requests in just a few hours, thank you very much!! I'm writing them all!!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Since most of your days became filled with stress and anxiety, you started appreciating even more moments where you could just forget all your problems, from small ones — like, lack of motivation to go to the gym, bad hair days and an ingredient you forgot at your fridge and became rotten—, and big, out of your control ones — like seven superheroes, who you see almost everyday, stalking you.

Your boyfriend getting back was one of the best dic(k)strations.

Bucky was a sergeant, he spent weeks, even months, away from you on missions. It was hard, but you were both busy people, so your mind was usually too stimulated to think about boy problems only all day, most adults were, and you believed the hard work would be worth it one day. The future was hopefully bright.

The League never mentioned him. Actually, some of them implied more than once that they thought you were available, so they probably didn't know about your relationship. You didn't use much social media and your boyfriend got especially busy this year, so it made sense.

He paid for you to get your nails done earlier and took you to a nice restaurant. After that, Bucky took you for a walk around the city, lively and beautiful even at night, and stopped at the park where your first date happened. Everything was fine, until he got on his knees. Suddenly, seven, mostly colorful, figures descended upon you from out of nowhere, screaming.

— (Y/N)! YOU CAN'T MARRY HIM! — Flash’s voice startled you, confirming your suspicions to who the group was.

You growled.

— SERIOUSLY? LEAVE ME ALONE! IT'S MY DAY OFF! — Bucky, who had swiftly gotten up with his fast reflexes as soon as the heroes charged, blinked at the sight. He looked between you all.

— Doll? What’s this? — You looked apologetic at him.

— Sorry, Bucky. Since I got my job, my bosses got… Protective over me… — You didn't want him to get hurt. Bucky and his friends had a great sense of justice and hated bullies. He would surely want to do something if he knew the true extent of things. You also didn't want to ruin the vision he had of his idols.

Since their obsessive behavior started, you just counted your lucky stars that they would just get tired of you one day or wouldn't sabotage your relationships. They seemed fine with you having friends, but dating was different.

You turned to the League.

— Go! — They shook their heads.

— You can't trust this bastard, darling. We have proof of his betrayal to you. — You looked at Wonder Woman skeptically and crossed your arms. Bucky gulped.

— Oh, really? How so? — You raised an eyebrow.

Batman fiddled with his wrist computer, a second later, a protection was shown and different pictures and videos of your man talking and being very intimate with someone very familiar to you appeared. Your stomach churned and your heart ached.

— This is fake! Doll, you have to believe me! — Bucky cried out and got in front of you, holding your shoulders, trying to cover your vision from the images. You took a step back and kept looking at the images.

The League had more than enough means necessary to fake all of this, but you knew Natasha was Bucky’s ex, and they were still friends and coworkers, even with their intense heartbreak. You sometimes got insecure and worried since they spent so much time together, but he always told you you had nothing to worry about…

You gulped.

The League was all glaring at his back while he shouted a hundred words per minute, desperately trying to convince you he was telling the truth.

Superman growled and walked forward until he grabbed Bucky by his shoulders and pulled him away from you.

— Stay away from them, you asshole. (Y/N), I would never do that to you. — You ignored Green Lantern's words, like you were doing since the pacifier incident. You knew he was getting desperate and that made you specially scared, but at least he gave you some distance.

— Not now. — Batman took a step forward. — A few hours ago, we discovered your relationship. For security reasons, we searched, and found these pictures and conversations from his second social accounts, that he uses to commit his cheating.

— He didn't try to hide much, he thought he wouldn't get caught. — Flash stated.

— I-I need more proof… These could be old… — Your first words spoken made Bucky shut up. Mind scrambling for something.

— Let the Lasso of Truth speak for him. — In a second, the Lasso was thrown around Bucky's torso and he was squirming. — Speak, you worthless mortal! — Wonder Woman ordered.

Bucky was able to struggle for a few seconds, before he blurted out.

— It's truth! It's truth! I told her we broke up and started dating her again! I thought I could have you both at the same time!

You gasped. Your hand shot to your chest.

Flash was on your side in a second, trying to hug and comfort you, but you pushed him away. You started crying from heartbreak and anger.

— HOW COULD YOU?! — You glared at him and pointed at his face.

— Doll… I swear I love you both. But I'm also narcissistic, insecure and look down on women. — The Lasso was really doing its job. You laughed humorlessly.

You had nothing to say anymore. No reason to stay. You took advantage of his tied arms and got close, punched his nose, and stomped away.

The League contemplated going after you and trying to bring you comfort, but Batman and Martian Manhunter decided to just let Bucky go (after intimidating him so as to not get close to you again) and follow you discreetly, watching you from the shadows, intervening only if necessary.

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

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Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)

distractions

you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual

your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.

the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.

it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.

at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.

he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.

you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.

you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.

you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.

you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.

so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.

well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.

give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.

"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.

as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.

"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."

caught.

"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."

aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."

oh? "oh."

"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"

you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"

"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months ago

Note

You write scary villains so well! Could I request one such terrifying villain? 🫣

"You know," the villain said, "I can't hurt you if you're not scared. Isn't that what the legends say?"

"Yes." It was barely a whisper. The protagonist willed their heart to stop thundering. They willed the hairs on the back of their neck to settle. They wiled their brain to stop feeding them images of what the villain could do to the frightened.

The villain smiled, head tilting, before they crouched down in front of the protagonist.

"You picked a great hiding spot."

"T-thank you."

"Mm. It really would have saved you if I couldn't feel the fear rolling off you."

The protagonist flinched, before they could stop themselves.

"Did you hope the runners would catch my attention more?" the antagonist asked. "The flash and bang of them?"

"My mum always said that - that only cowards run. That if you ever came, I should stand my ground."

"Your mum sounds very brave."

"She is. Was." The protagonist swallowed. Their gaze raked over the villain. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"Oh, very much."

"C-could you not?"

The villain laughed. It even sounded genuine. Nice. They reached out a hand, wiping a tear away from the protagonist's cheek. "Yes," they said. "I could leave you alone. I could find someone else, someone whose fear doesn't sing so sweetly. There's someone else's mum about three doors down! She's got her kid. She scared to leave him alone. If i had this conversation with her, she'd rat you out to me in an instant. Do you want me to pick them instead?"

The protagonist's eyes widened. Horror filled them. The prickling heat of shame. The rest of the tears spilled out in panic.

The villain raised an eyebrow to repeat the question, warning.

"Will you? Yes - I - yes."

"Good choice," the villain murmured. "You're a clever little thing, aren't you?" They leaned in to press a kiss to the protagonist's forehead. "But I'm still going to hurt you."

The protagonist whimpered.

The villain's hand slipped down to the protagonist's throat, their racing pulse.

"Unless, of course," the villain said, "you stop being scared in the next three seconds."

The protagonist didn't how to do to that. A lot of people picked fights when they knew the villain was coming - hoping fury might be enough to distract themselves. Others drank. They knocked themselves out and prayed they wouldn't have nightmares. They were all still scared though, weren't they? It was so stupid.

The villain squeezed, making the protagonist's breath stutter.

"One."

"Please," the protagonist said. "I'm not scared of you! Please."

"Two."

The protagonist shoved the villain back away from them, violently, sending them sprawling as if they were nothing. But the villain was not nothing. The protagonist staggered to their feet, out of their hiding place, gasping.

"Three."

The villain appeared in front of them again, as if by magic, no longer smiling.

The protagonist froze.

"It's okay," the villain said. "Fear is what makes you human."

Then, they pounced.

#trying something #writing snippet #writing #villains #antagonist #villain #stories #story #story snippet #fiction #creative writing #writeblr #horror #maybe horror

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walpu · 8 months ago

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walp

hear me out on this

Aventurine's bodyguard (reader), but they are used as leverage against Aven during the 2.1 Trailblaze Quest, if Aven tries to leave the Dreamscape or reveals anything of Sunday's scheme, Sunday murders Reader and makes it seem like a freak accident 😀😀

Sunday when I catch you Sunday

I liked this request the moment I saw it so I rushed to do it as soon as I got enough time to work on it 😭

you being used against Aventurine as his weak spot during the 2.1 trailblaze quest

notes - gn!reader, 2.1 spoilers, angst but nothing bad happens to you, hopeful at the end, sunday is most likely ooc since it's written before 2.2, no beta

Sunday doesn't make a direct threat. It's a very subtle hint, a small warning. Yet it's obvious enough for Aventurine to understand the meaning behind Sunday's words immediately. How can he not when it concerns you?

There's a visible anger on his face when he glares at Sunday.

"You wouldn't dare, you wing-headed bastard. Do you think the IPC is stupid enough to believe that the death of my personal bodyguard tgat accompany me everywhere is a coincidence? Do you think I'll let it slide?!"

Oh, he's seething. Such raw emotions, such obvious worry, such obvious fear. Sunday knew he would get him good but that? Truly intriguing.

But how can he not feel that way? How can he play it cool, cover his fear and shield himself with short on-line answers?

This time he can't hide how much his hands are shaking.

Sunday is quick to remind Aventurine that in his current pitiful state, 17 hours to live and all, he hardly can do anything.

He also graciously reminds Aven that nothing will happen to you as long as he does his part.

Aventurine is such a mess after that conversation. Ratio tries to calm him down a bit by rationalizing the situation. Surely Sunday is bluffing. The Family, no matter how questionable they seem, are not murderers. Plus, surely Aventurine knows his own bodyguard well enough to know that you're not easy to kill. Many has tried and yet here you are, still alive and well.

But how can Aventurine just brush it off when it's you who may be in danger?

That what he was afraid of the whole time. That he'll lose you like he has lost everyone else. That your blood will be on his hands.

He asks Ratio to look after you and to escort you to safety if something happens. The promise doesn't calm him down but Ratio is a reliable and smart person. So he chooses to trust him, no matter how hard it is. After all, Aven doesn't have much choice.

When the two of you reunite, you can immediately see that he's shaken. He tries to hide his pitiful state from you, not wanting you to know that his time is running out. He wants to warn you instead, to tell you that you may be in danger. But he knows you won't take it seriously and instead would insist on taking care of him and protecting him.

He comes up with some lies (aeons, he hates lying to you of all people) and asks you to start your own investigation. To go back to the real world and to team up with Topaz and Jade.

It takes some time to convince you but eventually you reluctantly agree. He sees how much you hate leaving him like this and it's both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Aven is an even bigger mess now than he was in the game. He tries to tell himself that you're okay, that Ratio will accompany you to the real world and Topaz will look after you once you're there.

But how can he be sure? How? His "future" self asks him this mockingly, pointing out that you're smart, that you'll immediately understand that he has deliberately sent you away to keep you from something.

No matter how msny times he tells this "future self" to shut up, he knows he's right. So he can only pray that he'll be able to deal with the Family before you get yourself in danger.

Image you showing up during the final act just to see him threatening to detonate the Stellaron. Him trying to continue the "show" despite the ache in his heart. You, knowing he's bluffing but being unable to stop this insanity.

After the events of 2.1, he seeks you out as soon as he returns to the real world. He needs to know that you're alive, that you're safe. Even if you're angry with him now, even if you may not forgive him (of course you will he's just insecure like that), he needs to know you're fine.

So imagine his relief when you (safe, unarmed, alive) embrace him and hold him tightly, so overwhelmingly happy he's back.

image his reaction to finding out that you're alive and well and sunday has presumably kicked the bucket 💀

#hsr #honkai star rail #reader insert #aventurine #walp's writing #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine

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roosterforme · 5 months ago

Text

Aim for the Sky Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With a little help from his best friend, Bradley rushes to the hospital, panic overtaking his system at the thought of something happening to one of his girls. He was supposed to be the one to take care of you. He felt like he failed.

Warnings: Angst, hospitals, injury while pregnant, potential pregnancy complications, vomit, blood, fluff

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley felt wrappers and empty bottles crunch under his combat boots as he climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Nat had the engine started, and she was tearing through the parking garage without a word. This may have been the first time he didn't have the desire to complain about his best friend's driving or her filthy SUV. He felt too numb to really consider anything except time ticking away on the digital clock on the dashboard.

You were fine this morning. Maybe not great, but you definitely didn't appear as though you were going to collapse at any moment. The only thing Bradley knew was that you passed out in your lab and hit the floor pretty hard. When he begged Nat for more information, she just shrugged, her brow pinched with concern while he cried. At least she wouldn't expect him to say anything at the moment, and she wouldn't even get mad if he threw up like he wanted to.

If anything devastating happened to you or Rosie, he didn't know how he was going to deal with it. He should have been checking on you more often at work. He'd been listening to you telling him you were going to try to eat more even though you weren't feeling well, but he hadn't pressed you to do so.

"Oh, god," he choked out, the afternoon sun and bluebird sky mocking him now as he sobbed into his hands. Nat whipped around a corner, honking at someone, and he didn't really care what happened as long as she got him to you and his daughter as quickly as possible. He had been in the car for six minutes already, winding through Coronado, and he was starting to panic more as he thought about how long you might have been unconscious. Or worse, maybe you were still unconscious now. He couldn't think about anything beyond that, because when he started to slip into that unsettling headspace, he felt his hands shake as bile stung the back of his throat.

"Nat, I can't live without her," he gasped, subconsciously knowing he was talking about both of you. Her hand reached out to squeeze his briefly before returning to the wheel, and he watched as she actually cut around a public transit bus to make a turn.

"We're almost there," she promised, and he nodded as his head tipped back against the headrest. If you and Rosie were okay, he was never going to willingly leave your side again. He'd been worried about someone bumping into you at the fucking Hard Deck, and that was nothing compared to this.

"What am I gonna do?" he whispered, eyes squeezed closed as he ran his sweaty palms along the rough fabric of his flight suit, his breathing starting to get erratic. It was his privilege in life to take care of you. Anything you needed or wanted, he'd hand it to you on a silver platter. But the only thing he needed and wanted was his little family. "Fuck."

"Bradley," Nat snapped, shaking him roughly by his bicep as she careened into the hospital parking lot and made a straight shot for the emergency room entrance. "You need to keep it together. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," he gasped, images far more terrifying than anything he'd ever thought about circling his brain.

"If something happened to the baby, your wife is going to need you to be strong."

Her words left him reeling, because he knew he'd never be as strong as you were. That was part of why he loved you so much. And Rose would be just like you, and he'd have two silver platters ready as soon as she was born. He swallowed hard as her SUV came to a screeching stop in front of a door that said AMBULANCE PARKING ONLY, and he fumbled his seatbelt with shaking fingers before jumping out onto the curb and running inside.

There was an elderly man in a wheelchair and a kid with crutches. Someone with a bloody bandage around their head was moaning in one of the seats, but he didn't see you as he came skidding to a halt in front of the check-in desk. "I need to see my wife. She's pregnant." The last word came out like too much of a question for him to handle, and he had to grip the edge of the desk for support while the woman behind it looked up at him with a neutral expression.

"I'll need to see your identification and get approval before you can go back," she told him smoothly as he yanked his military ID out of the badge holder he was wearing and handed it to her. "What is your wife's name?"

Bradley recited it to her quickly and reverently, watching as she typed away on the keyboard in front of her. "Do you know if she's okay? Can you check if she's alright?" he begged, squeezing her desk again as she slowly shook her head.

"I'm sorry, sir, but all I can see is which room she was taken to and which doctors are working on her case."

"But she's pregnant," he repeated in desperation, hoping that if he said it again, the words would still be true.

"I understand," she said smoothly, handing his ID back to him along with a medical bracelet with the date and time stamped on it. "Put that on your wrist, and have a seat while I see if someone can take you back to her."

Bradley stood there, even more numb to his surroundings than he had been in Nat's car. His ears were ringing, and he had a disturbing metallic taste in his mouth, making it harder and harder to swallow as he swayed on his feet. Based on his extensive military training, he figured he must be going into shock, but he would force himself to remain alert until he saw you for himself. Until he felt his daughter moving.

He could hear the woman pick up the phone and say, "Can someone let me know the visitation status of the patient in room seventeen? Her husband is here." There was a pause before she added, "Yes, I checked him in, and he has a bracelet on."

But she wasn't paying attention to him, and he was already moving now toward the double doors that said EMERGENCY ROOM ACCESS: STAFF AND PATIENTS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT WITHOUT ESCORT. He needed to get to you immediately, and everyone else could literally fuck off. He'd take the double doors right off the hinges with his bare hands if necessary. In fact, he would be more than happy to do so. But as he approached them, ready to get through by any means necessary, one door swung open as someone in scrubs strolled through, and he ducked right inside.

Room seventeen. He read the guide on the wall and rushed down the hallway to his right. The thudding of his heartbeat and the sound of his own breathing was almost deafening as he ran. The fluorescent lights were making him dizzy as he read the number on each door. But then he saw it. Room seventeen was straight ahead, and the door was open a few inches, light filling the gap as he started calling your name. He was almost there as the tears started up again, and he was pushing his way into the room as he rasped, "Baby Girl," at the sight of you on the bed.

----------------------------

When you woke up for the third time, you were so dizzy, you turned your head and started to gag. "It's okay," came an unfamiliar voice in the freezing cold room with too bright lights. "I have the garbage can ready for you."

That certainly was convenient. Just when you needed to throw up all of the contents of your stomach, someone was there to help you out. You never had service like that when you were battling morning sickness unless Bradley had been around. You made horrible noises as you heaved, the room still spinning even as you tried to ease yourself onto your back once again. You wanted to say thank you to the unknown voice of the blurry person next to you, but instead you asked, "Where am I?"

"The emergency room at Sharp Coronado Hospital."

That really didn't make any sense. You'd just been at work. Today was your birthday. Bradley was taking you to the hot sauce restaurant for dinner. Then your brain fog began to clear, and you started kicking at the white blanket that was keeping your legs warm in the freezing room. You were in a hospital gown, and when your hands came to rest on your belly, you realized you couldn't feel the baby moving. At all. You shifted your hands around frantically, and while your body was painfully tender, you could feel nothing. No somersaults. No squirms. No kicks. No thumps. Rosie was never this still.

"What happened to my baby?" you asked, voice wrecked with unchecked sobs as the woman beside you set the garbage can down and reached for your shaking hand. "I can't feel her!"

Something caught on the hospital gown, and you realized there were stitches running the length of the side of your swollen left hand. Your rings were missing, which was also scary, but you couldn't think of a single good reason why your daughter wasn't moving around inside your belly when she was always so active.

You sobbed loudly as the woman with you took your hand in hers, and you realized she was trying to calm you down as all of the equipment you were connected to started going crazy with loud beeps. Your pulse and blood pressure were through the roof and getting worse as she finally said, "The baby is okay, but we can't have you going into shock again. Listen to my voice and take deep breaths."

"Why isn't she moving?" you shrieked, still fighting to keep your hands on your belly.

"Because you're on pain medication," she said, and you finally realized there were two sets of monitoring devices, and the one with the wires that led to the band wrapped around your belly were giving a much calmer readout.

"Is that her heartbeat?" you asked, pointing to the screen that was displaying the pattern you were used to seeing when you were at your appointments with Dr. Morris.

"Yes, the baby is just fine. The obstetrician on rotation checked her out by ultrasound before we even stitched up your hand and wrist. But you need to stay calm while the medication starts wearing off. You've got extensive bruising, and we're still treating you for a possible concussion, but we can't keep you on the painkillers for a prolonged amount of time, okay?"

The words almost made sense, but they just didn't. And you couldn't stay calm, because you wanted Bradley. Hot tears leaked from your eyes as you tried to take a deep breath, but you shook from nerves and cold. Your teeth were suddenly chattering so hard, your jaw felt like it was snapping, and you could have sworn you heard someone calling your name. As the nurse took a step away from you, that voice started to sound louder. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to collect all of your thoughts, but there was no mistaking your husband's voice.

"Baby Girl!" he called out, eyes frantic and face far too pale as he pushed the door open and rushed to your side. His pupils were blown wide as he reached for you, and when he closed his eyes, you saw a tear streak down his face. He blinked a few times like he couldn't be sure you were real, so you reached for his face. He dropped to his knees next to the bed as he took your hand gently in his. "Are you okay?" came his shaky question, and you tried to nod as your teeth chattered. "Is Rosie okay?" His words were filled with something terribly close to agony, and you started crying harder.

"Yes," you whispered, trying to pull him closer. He would keep you warm and make you feel so much better, but his whole body was wracked with horrible sobs as he scooted closer until his lips were on yours in the gentlest kiss.

"Oh my god," he said, voice breaking as he cried. "Oh my god, Sweetheart. You're both really okay?" You were nodding in a jerky motion as his hand slid down to your belly, and you could have sworn the baby squirmed just for him. "I was fucking terrified out of my mind. I'm so sorry I wasn't with you. I love you."

His lips were kissing along your cheek as he kept his arm wrapped around you like you were capable of getting up and running away at the moment. As if you would even want to. It wasn't his fault this happened. It was an accident. You could remember listening to Bickel talking about your new list of tasks and the borrowed equipment from Lemoore, and then you just hit the ground. It was evident that you weren't doing enough to take care of yourself as it felt like your whole system was changing again in your third trimester. You needed to do better.

"I'm okay," you insisted, running your fingers through his hair. He melted into your touch, his face finally relaxing slightly as the color came back to his cheeks. When the nurse cleared her throat, you realized you forgot she was there.

"Sir, I don't think you're supposed to be in here."

Bradley was shooting her a nasty glare as more members of hospital personnel, including a security guard, walked into your room.

"What did you do?" you whispered as your husband held onto you just as gently as ever, but now he was shaking his head.

"I'm not leaving this room until my wife and daughter do," he told everyone in a loud, commanding voice. "You can be pissed off or whatever that I didn't wait to be escorted in, but I'm not going anywhere."

The security guard looked at the nurse, and she simply shrugged in response, but you stopped paying attention to them when Bradley turned back to look at you, his brown eyes wide and sincere as he said, "I'm here now, and I'm not going to let anything else happen to either of you."

Finally, you were able to warm up in his arms, and you calmed down a little bit more with each subtle squirm you felt from the baby. Bradley was kissing along your fingers, being mindful of your stitches when he froze. "Sweetheart, where are your rings?"

----------------------------

Bradley wished he smelled better and was wearing something softer, but you didn't complain about the faint scent of jet fuel or the scratchiness of his flight suit as he whispered over and over again how much he loved you. He didn't move an inch from his spot on the floor next to the bed as an emergency room doctor came to check you out again followed by an obstetrician.

"You may have preeclampsia, but you'll need a diagnosis from your own doctor based on historical data from your entire pregnancy. It's hard to tell whether all of the excitement from today is responsible for your high blood pressure or if it's the other way around."

"Preeclampsia," Bradley repeated, giving your fingers a little squeeze. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It can be," you whispered, and the doctor nodded in agreement.

"Bottom line," the doctor said, tapping the line of fluids being pumped into your body, "you were severely dehydrated and seemed to have a reaction to undereating. The stitches in your hand can be monitored from home until you can see your own doctor next week, so we can discharge you tonight. As long as you keep eating and drinking and stay off your feet as much as possible for the next few days. Healthy meals and rest."

"Okay," you whispered, looking so small and sad in the hospital bed that Bradley wanted to protect you at all costs.

"So I can take them home?" he confirmed, wanting nothing more than to get you cleaned up and changed and tucked into the king sized bed with a tray of food. When the doctor nodded, he sighed in relief.

He had been checking his phone sporadically, which finally helped him solve the wedding ring mystery. Cat took them off of you in the ambulance when your fingers started to swell, and she promised she had them with her. He also knew Nat let Tramp out and was ready to stay the night with him if necessary. She even let him know that she dropped his Bronco off in the hospital parking lot with Jake a few hours ago, and that someone was sitting in the waiting room, ready to give him the keys whenever you got discharged. He wasn't sure who it was, but when you were finally discharged and nearly falling asleep at ten o'clock, he was surprised by what he found.

As the nurse pushed you toward the exit in a wheelchair, Nat, Bickel, Cat and Jake all got to their feet in the waiting room. You burst into tears as Jake handed Bradley his car key and knelt down next to you.

"Don't cry, Angel," he drawled softly. "On second thought, maybe you should cry. Even after waking from that concussion, I hate to inform you that you really are married to Bradshaw." He gave your cheek a little kiss as your tears turned to laughter as he stood up again, and Bradley rolled his eyes.

Nat gave Bradley a hug while Cat fussed over putting your rings onto your right hand for the time being. Then Bickel said, "Do not report to work until you've been cleared by your doctors, Lieutenant Commander. I don't care if that's in four days or four months."

You looked worried now as you ran your fingers along your stitches. "Sir. Did I... break the lab equipment when I fell?" you whispered, and even Bradley could tell by Bickel's face that you probably did. "I didn't mean to."

But there was a reason you liked your boss so much, and you visibly relaxed in the wheelchair as Bickel said, "I'm worried about you, not the equipment, Lieutenant Commander. I'll check in with you on Monday."

When Bradley was finally helping you into the Bronco, you had tears in your eyes, but you looked a lot more relaxed than you had earlier. "I'm so tired, Roo," you whispered as he buckled you and Rosie in with a kiss to your belly.

"I know," he replied, pretty exhausted himself. "I'll take care of everything, okay? I'm just sorry you're not having a better time on your birthday."

When you looked at him and softly said, "It's much better now," he swiped at the tears on your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I scared you, and I'll be better about eating, okay? And if I have preeclampsia, I'll make sure Rosie is my number one priority every day, even if I feel awful from forcing nutrients into my body."

Bradley smiled and said, "I just wish I'd been able to take you to Del Mar tonight so you could enjoy some hot sauce." Just then, his phone started ringing in his pocket, and he thought perhaps it was your parents; they'd been biting at the bit for more information after he texted them throughout the day.

"Who is it?" you asked, and he sighed as he checked the number.

"It's the bar I reserved for the evening," he replied, ignoring the call until he got you home.

"Bar? For what?"

He kissed away the rest of your tears and murmured, "Our private silent disco. That's what I got you for your birthday."

You gasped and pulled him close, and even as you cried more, you said, "You're the best husband who ever existed. And I ruined my own night and scared us both half to death."

"Shhh," he coaxed. "We can go a different time. As long as my girls are okay, nothing else really matters. Now can I take you home for a slice of birthday cake and get you snuggled in bed?"

"Yes," you sniffed.

Not even fifteen minutes later, you were standing in the kitchen in your bra and underwear, eating a slice of the cake that said 'Happy Birthday, Baby Girl' which he'd hidden behind a bunch of things in the refrigerator since yesterday. Per the doctor's instructions, he made sure you had plenty of water to drink before he got you in a warm bath and helped you wash yourself.

"Come in," you said softly, stifling a yawn. "I didn't get to do any of the other stuff you planned for my birthday, but I want you in here with me."

With a deep, exhausted sigh, he unzipped his flight suit, your eyes glued to his every movement. His body was aching now from the rush of terrified adrenaline earlier and how much he'd worried about you since arriving at the hospital. He held your left hand above the water and slipped into the tub behind you, his body automatically relaxing as you eased back against him. Then he placed your hand on the edge of the tub to keep your stitches dry, and he held you as he whispered, "I love you," before setting his hand on your belly.

Finally, your heart rate felt normal again, and as the water got cooler, he could tell you were starting to doze off in his arms. He whispered the birthday song, and a smile crept along your lips even though your eyes were closed, and eventually he had to coax you out of the bath and into bed.

Just as your birthday officially ended, you were laying on your side snoring softly, and Bradley kissed your shoulder before he reached for the blue and pink striped notebook and a pen from his nightstand. While he was pleased you were able to fall asleep, he knew he'd be up for quite a while still, processing everything that had happened. The terrible thought of losing you and the baby left him with the realization that he didn't know if he'd actually be able to cope with something like that happening. It made his skin crawl all over again, but he knew he had to process it somewhere.

Hey, Rosie. You'll learn pretty quickly why I love Mommy's birthday so much. Actually, you'll learn pretty quickly that I try to make every day special for her. It's because she makes everything better for me just by being around. Her smile can make the worst day incredible, and her laughter makes me feel like I'm falling in love with her all over again. But today was her birthday, and it was one of the worst days of my life. I was scared that I was going to lose something that could never be replaced. Something I can't live without. I would do anything for you, Rosie. And I would do anything for your mom.

--------------------------------

When you first woke up on Saturday, your entire body was aching from your fall. For a second, you swore you could hear Bradley and Phoenix talking in the other room, but when you rolled onto your other side with Rose thumping around, you fell asleep again before you could investigate. When you woke up for the second time, you were absolutely certain you could hear Bradley talking to your mom.

You pulled on a random pair of sweatpants and a stretchy maternity tank top, making a stop in the bathroom before heading down the hallway. When you peeked into the kitchen, Bradley had the iPad propped up on the counter, and he had your cutting boards and cookware out as your mom chatted away.

"You have to peel the carrots just like you would a potato, and then you can cut them into pieces about this big."

"Right," he replied, slowly peeling the orange vegetable in this hand and then slicing it while your mom watched. "Should I put it in the chicken broth?"

"Not yet," she instructed. "Wait until you're ready to add the celery and put them in at the same time. And it never hurts to add a few extra carrots."

"Got it," he told her, setting aside three more carrots on the counter. "And tomorrow morning you'll help me with the chicken pot pie again?"

"Of course I will," she promised. "And I'll show you how to make tomato sauce when you're ready."

"Thanks." He wiped his brow with a dishtowel, voice thick with emotion as he said, "She scared me half to death yesterday. I need to make sure she's eating and drinking enough. When Natasha went grocery shopping for me earlier, I had her get these hydration packs that you can add to water along with cases of Gatorade. So those should be good. And if you help me cook every day, I'm hoping she can start to stomach food again."

"It sounds like you have everything under control, but if you want me to fly out, I can be there tomorrow."

Bradley wavered for a few seconds, but ultimately said, "I can handle it with your help over FaceTime. I'll take care of my girls."

"I have all the confidence in the world that you will," your mom told him. "Call this afternoon when she's awake, okay?"

A few seconds later, after he ended the call, you walked all the way into the kitchen while he was filling the crockpot with chicken broth. "Are you making me soup?"

"Sweetheart." He sloshed some of the liquid onto the counter in surprise and then pulled you into his arms. Your stomach was growling, and Rosie was doing somersaults, and you could see the playset in the backyard through the window. "Yeah, chicken noodle soup for dinner, but I can get something else for you now."

You couldn't stop smiling as he listed off all of the food options for breakfast and lunch. "My mom was right. I also have all of the confidence in the world that you'll take top notch care of us."

"You heard my conversation with her?" he asked, running his thumb gently along the skin next to your stitches as you nodded. "Listen, if your parents move to Coronado, I can get my culinary lessons in person. And then I'll have two more people to help me look after you, because to be honest, it's getting harder by the day, Baby Girl. Now how about some avocado toast and a small slice of birthday cake for breakfast?"

----------------------------

Take care of your girls, Roo. They mean more to you than anything else. His journal entry made me cry. Rose is already so loved, and I can't wait for her arrival. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

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