#I’m so tired of reporting and blocking
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sengad-apollo · 2 years ago
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I wish the bots would ignore accounts who report them
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vacantgodling · 16 days ago
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i am begging fellow transmascs to stop engaging with people who do not give a fuck about us for fucks sake
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purplbear · 2 years ago
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I do not wish to play “block-a-bot” anymore.
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lemon-lime-deodorant · 10 months ago
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all my life it was ‘i don’t feel the cold aha’
no. you just had fat to warm you.
this year winter will finally be cold.
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scrimple · 1 year ago
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the empty floaty feeling is like i’m being hugged. it’s so warm and cozy and i feel like i’m not as alone when i cut myself
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jupiterpilgrim · 11 days ago
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Attitude
Kim Chaewon x Male Reader
word count: 13K
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It's Friday.
The office is dead quiet, the kind of silence that feels too heavy after hours. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale, washed-out light on the few desks still occupied. Yours is one of them.
You’re slouched over your keyboard like roadkill, head resting on your folded arms. Everything feels muted—your energy, your mood, the world in general. You haven’t eaten all day, and the cold leftover coffee in your mug tastes like despair.
But before you can continue to suffocate in your cocoon of sadness and self-pity, her sharp voice cuts in:
“Wow. You look like shit.”
You lift your head just enough to glare at Kim Chaewon. She’s leaning against the side of your desk, arms crossed, her sharp bob framing her face like she stepped off a Pinterest board for "hot office chic." Her tailored pants sit perfectly on her hips, sharp creases cutting down her turned legs, emphasizing every curve. The blouse she’s wearing is neatly tucked in, accentuating that unfairly tiny waist. The coat? New, for sure—some designer nonsense, knowing her. Her expression is as sharp as ever, her dark eyes cutting right into you.
“Thanks,” you mumble, dropping your head back down. “Really needed that.”
She doesn’t move. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
You groan into your arms. “Just tired, okay? Long day.”
Chaewon snorts, a sound that’s half amusement, half derision. “Yeah, because you’re known for working so hard. Sure.”
“I’m serious.” You finally sit up, running a hand through your hair. It doesn’t matter how you try to play this; she can see right through you.
She always does.
“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice softens, just a bit, but there’s still an edge. “I know something’s up. You’ve been moping around all week like someone kicked your dog.”
“It’s nothing.”
She tilts her head, her sharp gaze narrowing. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”
You tense up, your fingers clenching around the edge of your desk. “I, uh… I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I knew it.” She exhales through her nose, shaking her head like she’s disgusted. “God, I told you this was going to happen.”
There it is. The last thing you need: Chaewon’s patented I Told You So energy. “Seriously, I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking in a way that betrays you completely.
“Oh, you’re fine?” She raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Cool. That’s why you look like someone just ran over your soul.”
You press your palms into your eyes, trying to block her out. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, well, tough.” She uncrosses her arms, resting a hand on her hip. “Let’s go get a drink.”
You blink up at her. “What?”
“A drink,” she repeats, like you’re an idiot. “You know, alcohol? That thing you drown your sorrows in?”
“Why?”
“Because sitting here sulking is pathetic, and I can’t stand looking at it anymore.” Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smirk. “And let’s be real, you’ll be slightly less annoying when you’re drunk.”
You hesitate. The thought of spending more time with Chaewon—queen of snark, master of unsolicited opinions—isn’t exactly appealing. But then again, neither is going home to your empty apartment.
And besides, she is your friend after all. Even though she seems to care about you in a way that is particularly hers.
“Fine,” you mutter, grabbing your bag and coat. “One drink.”
Her smirk widens. “Make it two. You’re going to need it.”
The two of you walk down the hallway toward the elevators, your steps heavy, hers sharp and purposeful. The silence stretches between you, awkward and suffocating, so you try to fill it with literally anything else.
“So… did you see the email about the quarterly report updates?” you ask, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Looks like the finance team is gonna implode again.”
Chaewon glances at you, her expression blank. “Uh-huh.”
Encouraged by the lack of immediate judgment, you keep going. “Yeah, they keep messing up the projections. I mean, how hard is it to use a spreadsheet, right?” You force a chuckle. “Maybe we should give them remedial Excel classes or something. Like, step one: stop sucking.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, noncommittal.
You glance at her out of the corner of your eye. She’s staring straight ahead, her lips twitching like she’s holding back a laugh—or gearing up to kill you. It’s hard to tell with her.
The elevator dings, and you step inside, immediately finding something—anything—to stare at. The buttons, the wall, the floor.
God, the floor is fascinating.
Is that gum?
No, just a weird stain.
“Okay, what the hell are you doing?” Chaewon’s voice slices through the awkward silence, sharp and irritated.
“What?” You glance at her but quickly look away again. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” She crosses her arms, leaning against the side of the elevator, her dark eyes locked on you. “You’re acting like a guilty teenager. What’s your deal?”
“I’m not—” You pause, frowning at the ceiling now like it holds the answers to life’s mysteries. “I’m not doing anything.”
Her gaze feels like a laser, burning into the side of your head. You swallow hard, desperate to shift gears. “Hey, uh, did you cut your hair?” You gesture vaguely at her head, avoiding her eyes. “Looks shorter.”
Chaewon’s brow furrows, then her lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Wow. You’re really gonna do this, huh?”
“Do what?” you ask, feigning confusion.
“Run away from the conversation like a little bitch.”
Fuck.
“I’m not running away,” you mumble, staring at the floor again.
She straightens, taking a small step closer, and you can feel her eyes boring into you. “Oh, you absolutely are. It’s almost impressive, honestly.”
The elevator dings again, signaling you’ve reached the ground floor, and you practically lunge for the door. Anything to escape the suffocating space and her relentless gaze. But as you walk out, her voice follows, resonant and unforgiving:
“You know you can’t avoid this forever, right?”
You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. You’re not sure if the drink she promised will make this better—or worse. Probably worse.
Now outside the building, the city feels colder than usual, the January air slicing through your thin coat. You jam your hands deeper into your pockets as Chaewon strides ahead, leading the way to a bar you’ve been to a few times after work. It’s nothing fancy—dim lighting, common wooden tables, decent drinks. The kind of place you don’t have to think too much about, which suits you fine right now.
She’s quiet for once, her steps crisp against the sidewalk. You trail behind, trying to figure out how to fill the silence. Talking feels safer than letting her drag you into emotional territory.
“I, uh, I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift lately,” you blurt out.
That gets her attention.
She slows, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Taylor Swift?”
“Yeah. You said I should give her a shot, remember? You’re always going on about her lyrics or whatever.”
Chaewon’s mouth quirks, like she’s fighting a smile. “And?”
“And…” You hesitate, feeling oddly self-conscious. “She’s good, okay? I’ve had Blank Space on repeat all week.”
At that, she lets out a short laugh, the sound cutting through the cold. “Oh my god. That’s such a basic choice.”
“Hey, it’s catchy,” you protest, grinning despite yourself. “And relatable. You know, the whole ‘darling, I’m a nightmare’ vibe.”
“Relatable?” She tilts her head, smirking. “You think you’re the nightmare, or…”
“Can we not analyze my music choices right now?” you cut in, shaking your head.
For a moment, the mood feels lighter. She’s distracted, you’re distracted, and the tension hanging between you starts to dissolve. But just as you’re beginning to think you’ve dodged the worst of it, she pulls the rug out from under you.
“So,” Chaewon says casually, “about your relationship…”
You groan, throwing your head back. “Seriously? I thought we were bonding over Taylor Swift!”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” She stops walking, turning to face you with her arms crossed. Her eyes are sharp again, cutting right through your defenses. “When did it end?”
You hesitate, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, filling the silence.
Desperate to steer the conversation away, you blurt out, “What about you? Any big plans for 2025?”
She blinks, caught off guard for half a second before narrowing her eyes. “Nice try.”
“No, really. What’s the plan? New job? New hobbies? Finally learning to not be such a pain in the ass?”
Chaewon rolls her eyes but humors you. “I don’t know. Probably more of the same. Working, eating overpriced sushi, babysitting your emotional meltdowns.”
“I don’t have meltdowns,” you mutter.
“Sure you don’t.”
You both start walking again, the bar now just a block away. The cold bites at your face, but her presence feels oddly warm, even when she’s being difficult.
Then, she strikes. “When did it end?”
The question hangs heavy in the air, and this time, there’s no escape. You shove your hands deeper into your coat pockets, staring at the ground as you mutter, “Four days ago.”
Chaewon stops again, her boots scuffing against the pavement. “Four days?” she repeats, her voice softer now.
You nod, your throat tight.
She doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to do next. Her usual sharpness fades, replaced by something you can’t quite name.
“Come on,” she finally says, her voice quieter. “Let’s get that drink.”
You follow her into the bar, bracing yourself for whatever’s coming next.
The bar is dimly lit, the kind of place where the furniture doesn’t match and the music is just loud enough to drown out awkward silences. It smells like spilled beer and fried food, comforting in a low-effort kind of way. You follow Chaewon to a corner table, sliding into the seat opposite her. Your back is hunched, arms resting on the table like they might just hold you together.
Chaewon doesn’t even ask what you want. She waves down the bartender and orders your usual—a whiskey soda—and something for herself. The fact that she remembers your drink feels both reassuring and mildly irritating, like she’s been quietly cataloging your life just to one-up you at moments like this.
When she comes back with the drinks, she slides yours across the table, taking her own seat. “Here,” she says, setting her glass down with a little more force than necessary. “Drink. You need it.”
You pick up the glass, taking a slow sip. The burn of the whiskey settles in your chest, warming you in a way the freezing walk over couldn’t.
For a moment, you think she might let you enjoy the drink in peace. But of course not.
“So,” she starts, leaning back in her chair. “What happened?”
You sigh, swirling the ice in your glass. “Do we have to do this now?”
“Yes.” Her tone is firm, unrelenting. She sips her drink, her eyes fixed on you over the rim of the glass. “Spill.”
You set the glass down, running a hand through your hair. “We just… weren’t compatible anymore.”
Chaewon snorts. “Bullshit. What does that even mean?”
“It means we had different tastes,” you say, glaring at her. “She liked going out all the time; I’d rather stay home. She liked clubbing; I liked reading. She thought Netflix was boring—who even thinks that?!” You pause, rubbing your temples. “And then she started getting distant, like she didn’t even enjoy talking to me anymore. Everything I said felt like it annoyed her. Until…”
“Until?” Chaewon prompts, her tone sharper now.
“Until she snapped,” you mutter. “She said I was boring. And too nerdy. For her, apparently.”
Chaewon’s jaw tightens. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“That’s such bullshit.” She slams her drink down on the table, the glass clinking against the wood. “What the hell is wrong with her? I mean, boring? Nerdy? Please. She’s just projecting her own basic-ass insecurities onto you.”
You let out a weak laugh, staring into your drink. “Yeah, well, you warned me, right?”
“You’re damn right I did.” She points a finger at you like she’s scolding a misbehaving child. “From the second you introduced her, I knew she wasn’t worth it. God, the way she talked about astrology like it was a science? Red flag. Huge.”
“Okay, she wasn’t that bad,” you mutter.
Chaewon narrows her eyes. “Don’t defend her. She literally called you boring, and for what? Because you’re not into overpriced cocktails and pretending to enjoy techno music?”
You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head.
“And another thing,” she continues, clearly warming up now. “Why the hell do you always go for these girls, huh? These… these cookie-cutter influencers or wannabe fashionistas or whatever? It’s like you have a radar for people who are only gonna treat you like crap.”
“Wow, thanks for the support,” you say dryly.
“I’m serious!” She leans forward, her voice dropping slightly. “You could date someone who actually appreciates you. Someone who doesn’t think liking sci-fi is a crime or that staying in is a death sentence. Someone who…” She pauses, looking away briefly before shaking her head. “Anyway, you have terrible taste, is what I’m saying.”
You rest your arms on the table, elbows planted firmly as your hands cradle your head. The whiskey soda sits half-finished in front of you, the ice already starting to melt, but you barely notice it.
“I don’t think I’m compatible with anyone,” you mutter, more to the table than to Chaewon.
She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she watches you with that unreadable expression she’s so good at. “Oh, here we go.”
“I’m serious.” You glance up at her, your face twisted in defeat. “I think I’m just… done. With all of it.”
“‘Done’?” she repeats, her tone dripping with skepticism.
“Yeah.” You sit up slightly, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Love. Dating. Relationships. The whole thing. What’s the point? It’s just rejection after rejection, disappointment after disappointment. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the problem.”
Chaewon snorts, swirling the drink in her hand. “That’s dramatic, even for you.”
“Is it, though?” You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I mean, think about it. Every time I try, it ends the same way. They get bored, or I annoy them, or they find someone else who’s, I don’t know, less me.”
Her brows knit together slightly, the teasing edge in her expression softening just a bit. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m being realistic,” you counter, sitting back in your chair with a defeated sigh. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone. Maybe I’m one of those people who’s better off alone.”
She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “God, you’re exhausting.”
“See? Even you can’t stand me for too long,” you joke bitterly.
Chaewon sets her drink down with a loud clink, leaning forward to glare at you. “Stop it. You’re not the problem. Like I said, the problem is your taste in women.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Don't play dumb.” She waves a hand, dismissing your confusion. “You keep picking people who don’t deserve you. People who don’t get you. That’s on them, not you.”
“Or maybe,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m just not worth getting.”
Her glare sharpens, and for a second, you think she might actually throw her drink at you. “Don’t. Don’t do that self-pitying bullshit. You’re worth it. You’re just too stupid to see it.”
You let out a humorless laugh, rubbing your hands over your face. “Thanks for the pep talk. Really uplifting.”
Chaewon exhales sharply, sitting back and crossing her arms again. “Look, you’re not perfect. You’re stubborn, and you overthink everything, and sometimes you talk about The Legend of Zelda like it’s a religion.”
“It is a religion,” you mutter.
“But—” she continues, ignoring you, “—you’re also kind, and funny, and smart. And you care, probably too much, which is why these assholes keep hurting you. That’s not a bad thing, okay? It just means you need to stop wasting your time on people who don’t care back.”
Her words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. You stare at your glass, tracing the condensation with your finger. “I’m tired, Chaewon,” you admit quietly. “I’m just… tired of trying.”
Her expression softens, the sharp edges dulling slightly. She reaches across the table, nudging your hand with hers. “Then stop trying so hard. Let the right person find you.”
You glance up at her, and for a moment, you think you see something in her eyes—something that makes your chest tighten. But before you can figure it out, she leans back, grabbing her drink again.
“And in the meantime,” she adds, her smirk returning, “stop being such a drama queen. You’re not giving up on love. Think of it like you're taking a break.”
You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “Fine. A break. But if I die alone, I’m haunting you.”
“Deal.” She clinks her glass against yours, a crooked smile on her lips.
You take another sip of your drink, feeling the warmth seep into your bones. The weight on your chest feels a little lighter now, though not by much. Chaewon watches you over the rim of her glass, there’s something softer lurking in her gaze—a flicker of concern she’d probably deny if you brought it up.
“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “did you actually cut your hair?”
Chaewon huffs, rolling her eyes. “Yes. Why?”
You shrug, trying to sound casual. “It suits you. I mean, it’s good. Really good, actually.”
She pauses mid-sip, her eyes flicking to yours. “Thanks,” she says, her tone vague, but the way she fidgets with her glass gives her away.
You smirk, leaning back in your chair. “You’re bad at taking compliments, you know that?”
“Shut up,” she mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile, and for a second, the tension between you dissolves completely.
The conversation drifts to safer territory after that, and you find yourself updating her on the games you’ve been playing. “I’ve been sinking way too many hours into that new RPG,” you admit, swirling the ice in your glass. “The one with the insane skill trees? It’s stupidly addictive.”
She tilts her head, genuinely interested. “The one with the branching storylines?”
“Yeah! I’ve already screwed up like three questlines because I made the wrong dialogue choices. It’s brutal.”
Chaewon chuckles, resting her chin on her hand as she listens. “Sounds like it’s punishing you for being indecisive.”
“Exactly! It’s like the developers made it specifically to torture me.”
You keep talking, describing the game mechanics, the world-building, the characters. And she listens. Really listens. She’s not scrolling through her phone or zoning out or pretending to care just to be polite. She’s engaged, asking questions, making observations that show she’s actually paying attention.
It hits you then, how different this is. How different she is.
Your ex never really cared about this stuff. She’d roll her eyes the moment you brought up a game, tuning out or flat-out telling you she wasn’t interested. Conversations with her always felt like walking a tightrope, trying to find the one topic that wouldn’t bore her. With Chaewon, it’s… easy.
“Honestly, I think you’d like it,” you say, gesturing with your glass. “The story’s your kind of thing—morally gray characters, lots of political intrigue. You’d probably end up siding with the villain, though.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Why would I side with the villain?”
“Because you’re a menace,” you deadpan, grinning when she rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, well, at least I’m not the type to get emotionally attached to fictional characters,” she fires back, smirking.
“First of all, rude,” you say, pointing at her. “Second of all, you cried at the end of Fullmetal Alchemist, so don’t even.”
Her smirk falters, and she narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t count. That was different.”
“Sure it was.”
The banter flows easily, the kind that feels effortless, natural. You realize, not for the first time, how much you enjoy talking to her. How much you look forward to these moments when the world feels less crushing and complicated.
And then there’s the way she’s looking at you now, her dark eyes steady and focused, her chin still resting on her hand. Like she’s actually glad to be here with you.
You don’t say it out loud, but it’s nice.
It’s more than nice.
“Anyway,” she says, breaking the silence, “if you’re going to recommend a game, you better let me borrow it. Why waste money when I've got you, my walking game library?"
You laugh, raising your glass in mock salute. “Consider it done.”
You can’t help but smile as Chaewon takes a sip of her drink, the corners of her lips quirking upward in that way that says she’s amused but refuses to fully admit it. Her eyes glimmer in the low bar lighting, and for a moment, it feels like the two of you are in your own little bubble, separate from the hum of the bar around you.
“You know,” you say, swirling the last of your whiskey, “I wasn’t kidding about you siding with the villain. You’ve got that whole morally ambiguous vibe.”
Chaewon raises an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Excuse me? Morally ambiguous? Care to elaborate?”
“Sure.” You grin, resting your elbows on the table. “You’re always roasting me for no reason. You have a resting bitch face so intense it scares the new hires. And don’t think I didn’t see you steal the last donut at the office meeting last week, even though you knew I hadn’t had breakfast.”
Her jaw drops in mock indignation. “Okay, first of all, the donuts are fair game. It’s survival of the fittest.”
“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?” you tease. “Because it looked more like petty theft.”
Chaewon snorts, trying to stifle her laugh, but it escapes anyway—a melodic sound that fills the space between you. It’s unguarded, real, and it makes your chest feel a little lighter.
“Second of all,” she continues, still smiling, “you were too slow. Not my fault you can’t fight for what you want.”
“Wow,” you say, feigning a wounded expression. “Cold. Absolutely ruthless.”
“I’m a realist,” she quips, smirking.
“No, you’re a donut thief.”
That gets her again. She leans back, laughing openly now, her shoulders shaking as she tries to catch her breath. The sound is warm, bright, and for some reason, it feels like a reward—a moment of connection you didn’t realize you needed.
“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, wiping at the corner of her eye.
“Maybe,” you admit, grinning. “But at least I’m not the office villain.”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop smiling. “If anyone’s the villain, it’s you. You’re the one who keeps stealing my stapler.”
“Only because you keep hiding my mouse batteries.”
“That was one time.”
“And it was chaos,” you retort. “I couldn’t even Google how to fix it because I didn’t have a mouse!”
She laughs again, her head tilting back slightly, and you realize how rare it is to see her this relaxed. There’s always a sharpness to her—an edge—but right now, she’s softer, her usual armor cracked just enough for you to peek through.
“You know,” you say after a moment, your tone more thoughtful, “you should laugh more. It suits you.”
She blinks, caught off guard, her smile fading just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that it’s nice,” you say simply, leaning back in your chair. “Seeing you like this. It’s… nice.”
She looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she clears her throat, sitting up straighter. “Don’t get sappy on me, okay? I don’t do sappy.”
“Noted,” you say with a mock salute, though you can’t help but notice the faint blush creeping up her neck.
The conversation drifts again, this time to lighter topics—shared office gossip, the weird guy who sits by the printer, and that time Chaewon accidentally sent a snarky email to the entire department.
But through it all, you find yourself stealing glances at her, marveling at how she seems to know exactly how to pull you out of your own head. How she listens, really listens, in a way that makes you feel seen. And how her laughter—bright, unrestrained, and unapologetically her—lingers in the back of your mind, long after the sound fades.
The bar has emptied out a bit, the din of voices replaced by the soft hum of the jukebox in the corner playing some indie song you don’t recognize. Three rounds have come and gone—the whiskey soda you started with, smooth and sharp; a pint of amber ale, bitter enough to match your mood; and finally, a vodka tonic that sits untouched, the ice long since melted into a watery mess. You’re slumped over, your head resting on your arms, the fatigue creeping in after a long, emotionally draining day.
Across from you, Chaewon is still sitting upright, her glass half-empty as she watches you with an expression you can’t quite place. The faint buzz of alcohol has softened the sharp edges of her usual demeanor, leaving her looking almost thoughtful.
You lift your head just enough to look at her, squinting through the dim light. “What?”
She blinks, startled, as if she didn’t realize you’d noticed her staring. “What, what?”
“That look,” you say, waving a hand vaguely in her direction. “You’re doing that thing where you’re thinking too hard. What’s on your mind?”
Chaewon huffs, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” you murmur, resting your chin on your arms. “You’ve got that little smile thing going on. Spill.”
Her lips twitch, betraying her, and she glances away like she’s debating whether or not to answer. Finally, she sighs, shaking her head. “It’s just… you’ve got this thing about you.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite your exhaustion. “What thing?”
“This… helpless puppy vibe,” she says, her voice laced with reluctant amusement. “Like you’re just wandering through life, looking all lost and sad, and it makes people want to take care of you.”
You stare at her, caught between offense and confusion. “A puppy? Really?”
“Yeah, a puppy,” she repeats, smirking now. “Big, sad eyes. Kind of scruffy. Probably needs a bath. It's dangerous, you know?”
“Wow,” you say, sitting up slightly. “Thanks for that vivid and insulting description.”
“You asked.” She shrugs, but there’s something softer in her gaze now, a flicker of vulnerability she’s trying to hide.
You rest your head back on your arms, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “So what’s so dangerous about this hypothetical puppy version of me?”
Chaewon hesitates, tapping her fingers against her glass. When she speaks, her voice is quieter, almost hesitant. “Dangerous for… someone who thinks you deserve better. Someone who wants to see you happy.”
The words hang between you, heavy and unexpected. For a moment, you’re not sure if you heard her right.
“Someone like that actually exists?” you ask, your tone a mix of skepticism and self-deprecating humor.
She doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. There’s something in her expression now—something raw and unguarded that you’ve never seen before.
“You’re looking at this person,” she says simply.
The room feels too quiet all of a sudden, the music in the background fading into nothing. You stare at her, trying to process the weight of her words. There’s no teasing smirk, no sarcastic remark to soften the blow. Just Chaewon, sitting there, her gaze steady and unapologetic.
You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Your brain is scrambling for something—anything—to say, but all you can do is stare at her like an idiot.
Finally, she breaks the silence, her lips quirking into a small, self-conscious smile. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s not like I’ve been subtle.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, your voice cracking slightly.
She laughs softly, the sound both nervous and amused. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
“Yeah,” you admit, still reeling. “I’m starting to get that.”
Chaewon leans forward, resting her elbows on the table as she studies you. “You don’t have to say anything,” she says quietly. “I just… I thought you should know.”
You nod slowly, your mind still spinning. The warmth in her gaze, the way she’s looking at you now—it feels like a lifeline, pulling you out of the fog you’ve been drowning in.
“Thanks,” you say finally.
“For what?”
“For… being here.”
The bar feels quieter than ever, as if the world has tuned out everything except the two of you. The moment feels too big for words, so you don’t try.
Instead, you ask:
“Can I hug you?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Right now? In the middle of the bar?”
You glance around, gesturing vaguely at the room. “Why not? Nobody’s paying attention.”
She hesitates, lips pursed as if she’s weighing the pros and cons. Then, with a small huff of resignation, she nods. “Fine. But if this gets weird, I’m blaming you.”
You stand up slowly, your heart beating a little too fast as you make your way around the table. Chaewon stays seated for a moment, like she’s still deciding if she’s really going to go through with it, but then she rises to meet you.
Her arms come up awkwardly at first, like she’s not sure where to put them, but then you pull her in, and everything just clicks.
Her small frame presses against yours, fitting perfectly into the curve of your arms. She’s warm, her body soft but firm where it leans into you. Her hair smells faintly of citrus and something floral—clean, crisp, and distinctly her. And her perfume… it’s subtle but intoxicating, a quiet reminder of how she always seems to take your breath away without trying.
You hold her tighter, your hands resting gently on the small of her back. She doesn’t pull away—in fact, she leans in just a little more, her cheek brushing against your chest.
“This is nice,” you murmur, your voice low and almost sleepy.
She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against you. “You sound like you’re about to fall asleep.”
“Maybe I am,” you admit, your eyelids drooping. “Could totally sleep here, just like this.”
Chaewon tilts her head back slightly to look up at you, her eyes catching the dim light in a way that makes your heart do something weird and uncoordinated. “You’re such an idiot,” she says, but there’s no bite to her words.
“An idiot who’s comfortable,” you counter, letting your head rest lightly against hers.
She hesitates for a beat, then says, “Come to my place.”
You blink, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “What?”
“My apartment,” she says, her voice quieter now but steady. “It’s close. You can crash there. No point in going all the way home when you’re about to pass out.”
For a moment, you just look at her, trying to process what exactly she’s offering.
“That’s… a great idea,” you say finally, your lips curving into a small smile. “Let’s do it.”
Chaewon steps back, giving you one last once-over like she’s making sure you won’t collapse on the way there. “Good. But if you snore, I’m kicking you out.”
“Fair,” you reply, grinning.
As the two of you leave the bar together, stepping out into the crisp night air, you can’t help but feel like something has shifted—something subtle but undeniable. The space between you feels smaller now, the connection deeper.
Chaewon’s apartment greets you with a kind of stillness, like it’s been waiting quietly for her return. She’s ahead of you, shrugging off her coat and neatly hanging it on the hook by the door before toeing off her boots and lining them up with precision against the wall.
“Make yourself at home,” she says, her voice casual but carrying that hint of expectation, like she’s daring you to do anything but comply. “Want some tea?”
“Tea sounds great,” you say, still standing awkwardly in the entryway, unsure where to step in a place that looks like it belongs in a design catalog. To avoid mistakes, you mimic her movements, hanging your coat next to hers, same thing with your shoes. You place your bag on the floor beside the sofa to keep it from being in the way. "I love tea, it's very, uh, natural."
She nods and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to take it all in.
The space is pure Chaewon—clean, clinical, with sharp angles and muted tones. The furniture is sleek and minimal, not a throw pillow out of place. Even the books on the shelves are organized by size, their spines forming a perfect gradient from light to dark. There’s no clutter, no mess, not even a stray sock to prove she actually lives here.
You wander further in, the floor under your socked feet smooth and cool. There’s a single potted plant on the windowsill, its leaves glossy and impossibly green, like it’s been getting five-star treatment since birth. You stop to study it, half expecting to see tiny instructions taped to the pot—water twice a day, rotate for even sunlight, apologize if you overwater.
The shelves catch your eye next. Books, a few picture frames, a small collection of vinyl records. You tilt your head, curious, but resist the urge to reach out and touch anything. The last thing you need is to knock over some rare artifact of her highly curated life.
“You’re snooping,” Chaewon’s voice comes from behind you, startling you enough to make you flinch.
“Not snooping,” you protest, spinning around. “Just… looking. Observing. Admiring?”
She raises an eyebrow, one hand holding a mug, the other a small tray with a teapot and another mug. “Uh-huh. You're acting like a nosy puppy.”
“Err, I really don't understand this correlation between puppies and me... Maybe I’m just trying to figure you out,” you quip, though your face feels a little warm at being caught.
Chaewon smirks, setting the tray down on the coffee table and gesturing for you to sit on the couch. You oblige, sinking into the surprisingly firm cushions as she pours the tea with careful precision.
Her movements are methodical, each gesture deliberate, like she’s done this a thousand times before. When she hands you the mug, her fingers brush yours for just a second, and you’re hit again with that faint citrus-and-floral scent that clings to her.
“Thanks,” you say, wrapping your hands around the mug for warmth.
She sits down beside you, her posture as precise as everything else about her. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence filled with the soft clink of the teapot as she sets it back on the tray.
“So?” she asks, finally breaking the quiet. “What’s your verdict?”
“On what?”
“My place,” she says, gesturing around with one hand. “You’ve been staring at everything like a toddler in a museum.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s… very you.”
Her brow furrows slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Organized. Clean. Intimidatingly perfect,” you say, taking a sip of tea to hide your smirk.
Chaewon narrows her eyes at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky you’re tired, or I’d kick you out for that one.”
“You’d miss me,” you shoot back.
“Drink your tea,” she says, turning away, but you don’t miss the faint smile tugging at her lips.
The tea’s warmth seeps into your hands as you cradle the mug, its steam curling lazily into the air. Chaewon sits beside you, legs crossed, her own mug resting on her knee as she watches you with that quiet intensity she’s so good at. The conversation has drifted to safer topics—work drama, the weird quirks of your mutual coworkers—but the energy feels heavier now, like there’s something unspoken hanging between you.
You laugh at something she says about your boss’s obsession with motivational quotes, but it comes out thinner than you intended. Chaewon notices immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.
“You okay?” she asks, tilting her head.
You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the mug. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You’ve got that weird energy again.”
You laugh nervously, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “Weird energy?”
“Yeah,” she says, leaning back against the couch. “Like you’re trying to calculate how to escape a room without making a scene.”
You rub the back of your neck, looking away. “It’s nothing. Just… tired, I guess.”
Chaewon isn’t buying it. She sets her mug down beside yours and shifts slightly, turning to face you more directly. “Spill. What’s going on?”
You glance at her, then quickly look away again, focusing on the pattern of the rug instead. “It’s stupid.”
“Good thing I’ve got time for stupid,” she says, her voice tinged with amusement. “Come on. Out with it.”
You sigh, your shoulders sagging. “It’s just… I don’t want to ruin things.”
“Ruin what?” she asks, her brow furrowing.
“This,” you say, gesturing vaguely between you. “Us. I’ve messed up before, you know? With other girls. I always say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing, or just… end up being too much. And I don’t want to lose you. You’re one of the few people who actually seems to get me.”
The words hang in the air. You immediately regret saying them, your stomach twisting as you brace for whatever sharp, sarcastic response she’s bound to throw your way.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, Chaewon shifts closer, her movements slow and deliberate. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she looks at you, her face unreadable. “You won’t ruin anything,” she says quietly, her voice steady. “I promise.”
You glance at her, startled by the softness in her tone. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” she counters, her gaze unwavering. “You think I don’t know who you are by now? All the awkwardness, the overthinking, the dumb jokes? That’s you. And I like you just the way you are.”
Her words make you feel something strange in your chest, leaving you momentarily speechless. Chaewon doesn’t look away, her expression open and sincere in a way that feels almost vulnerable.
“I’m serious,” she continues, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to try so hard with me. You’re not gonna scare me off or mess this up. So just… relax, okay?”
You swallow hard, your throat tight. “I don’t deserve you saying things like that.”
Her lips curve into a small, wry smile. “Probably not. But lucky for you, I’m generous.”
You laugh, the sound shaky but real, and she smiles wider at that. The tension in your chest eases a little, replaced by something warmer, something that feels suspiciously like hope.
Chaewon leans back against the couch, close enough now that her shoulder brushes yours. “Better?”
“Yeah,” you say, your voice quiet. “Thanks.”
She shrugs, reaching for her tea again. “Don’t mention it. Just don’t make me say all that sappy stuff twice.”
“Deal,” you reply, grinning despite yourself.
You pick up your mug again, staring into it like the tea holds the answers to all of life’s mysteries. Chaewon’s sitting close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off her, which is both comforting and mildly distracting. You decide to lean into it, though—into her, into this whole vibe.
“So,” you start, trying to sound casual, “what kind of guys are you into?”
Chaewon doesn’t even blink. She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking in a way that tells you she knows exactly what you’re doing. “Seriously? That’s where you’re going with this?”
“What?” You shrug, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious. You never talk about that kind of stuff.”
“Because it’s none of your business,” she says, her voice dry, but she’s smirking now, her amusement clear.
“Come on,” you press, leaning a little closer. “Humor me. What’s your type?”
She tilts her head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. Let’s see. I guess I like someone who’s kind of a mess, but in a lovable way.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are starting to heat up. “A mess?”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding seriously. “Like, they’ve probably got zero game, but they’re sweet, and funny, and they care about people even when they shouldn’t.”
You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you describing me right now?”
She doesn’t answer directly, just sips her tea with an exaggerated innocence that makes you want to throw a pillow at her.
“Okay, fine,” you say, leaning back against the couch and crossing your arms. “What else?”
“Hmm,” she hums, dragging it out on purpose. “Definitely someone who’s way too into nerdy stuff. Like, they could probably write an entire essay on the politics of some random video game world.”
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”
“And they’ve got to be a little awkward,” she continues, her smirk growing. “Like, they think they’re flirting right now, but they’re just embarrassing themselves.”
“Okay, I get it!” you cut her off, your voice muffled by your hands.
Chaewon laughs, the sound bright and unapologetic. She reaches over, nudging your shoulder. “What? You asked.”
“Yeah, and I regret it,” you mutter, peeking at her through your fingers. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” she says, looking far too pleased with herself.
There’s a pause as you both settle back into the couch, the playful tension between you easing into something quieter. Then Chaewon stretches, rolling her neck like she’s trying to work out a kink.
“Ugh,” she groans, rubbing the back of her neck. “I think I’ve been sitting at my desk too long this week.”
You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “What, you need a massage or something?”
“Actually, yeah,” she says, turning to look at you with an expression that’s far too smug. “Since you’re offering.”
You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, I wasn’t—”
“Too late. Offer accepted,” she interrupts, shifting to sit sideways on the couch and giving you her back.
You hesitate for a second, then sigh, setting your mug aside. “Fine. But if you complain, I’m stopping.”
“Just shut up and get to it,” she says, tossing a glance over her shoulder.
You roll your eyes but move closer, placing your hands lightly on her shoulders. Her body tenses slightly under your touch at first, but as you start to knead gently, her posture softens.
“Not bad,” she murmurs, tilting her head forward to give you better access.
“Not bad?” you echo, your fingers working into the knots in her shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I give amazing massages.”
“Sure you do,” she says, her voice slightly muffled.
You work silently for a bit, your hands moving with more confidence as you get into a rhythm. It’s oddly intimate, this moment between you, and you’re not sure whether to be grateful or terrified by how comfortable it feels.
Your hands move slowly, working into the tension in Chaewon’s shoulders, but the longer you touch her, the harder it is to focus. She feels warm under your hands, soft in all the right places, and the faint scent of her perfume is messing with your head in a way you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with.
Chaewon lets out a quiet sigh, tilting her head to the side to give you better access. Her short hair falls away from her neck, exposing smooth, pale skin that catches the dim light just right. You pause for half a second, your hands hovering, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you are to her.
“You okay back there?” she asks, glancing at you over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you mutter, quickly resuming the massage. “Just… trying to find the knot.”
Her lips twitch like she doesn’t entirely believe you, but she doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, she leans forward a bit, giving you even more space to work. “Well, don’t chicken out. I could really use this.”
Your hands move lower, grazing the tops of her shoulder blades, and you feel her shiver slightly under your touch. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send your thoughts spiraling. Suddenly, the innocent, friendly massage doesn’t feel so innocent anymore.
Chaewon shifts slightly, her back arching just enough to make you notice, and you swallow hard, your fingers faltering for just a second. She doesn’t say anything, but the air between you feels thicker now, charged with something you’re not sure either of you expected.
You clear your throat, trying to focus. “You’ve got a lot of tension here,” you say, your voice coming out lower than you intended.
“Yeah?” she murmurs, her tone almost teasing. “Guess you’d better keep going.”
You can’t help it; your eyes drift down her back, tracing the curve of her spine under her blouse. Your hands move on their own, pressing into the muscles just below her shoulders, but all you can think about is how much you want to touch more. Explore more.
She tilts her head back slightly, her neck exposed, and you’ve never seen her look more beautiful. It’s not just the way her body reacts under your hands—it’s the way she’s completely at ease, trusting you in a way that feels almost vulnerable.
“You’re good at this,” she says, her voice softer now, almost breathy.
“Yeah?” you say, trying to keep the nervous edge out of your voice. “Maybe I missed my calling.”
She chuckles, the sound low and warm, and something about it makes your pulse pick up. “Don’t get cocky.”
Your hands move lower again, brushing against the edge of her lower back, and she shifts under your touch, her breath hitching just slightly. It’s enough to make your resolve start to crumble.
You want her—have wanted her for longer than you’re willing to admit—but now, with her so close, so warm, so utterly Chaewon, it feels impossible to ignore. Every time your hands move, every time she sighs or shifts, it pulls you deeper into something you don’t think you can back out of.
But you hesitate, your hands lingering on her back, unsure of how to bridge the gap between what’s happening and what you want to happen.
Your hands pause for just a moment when Chaewon shifts again, her body leaning slightly forward. Her shoulders tense briefly before relaxing, and then, in a voice quieter than you’ve ever heard from her, she says, “You can go lower… if you want.”
Time stops.
You’re not even sure you heard her right at first. Your brain scrambles to process the words, but your hands are already moving, sliding lower down her back, fingertips brushing over the curve of her waist. You swallow hard, every nerve in your body buzzing.
Her blouse is soft, thin enough that you can feel the heat of her skin beneath it. Your hands press into her, kneading gently, and she lets out a quiet sigh that shoots straight through you.
“That’s… nice,” she murmurs, her head tilting slightly forward.
You chuckle nervously, trying to play it cool even though your heart feels like it’s about to break through your ribs. “Yeah? I’ve got skills.”
She lets out a soft laugh, the sound breathy, and shifts again as your hands move down to her lower back, squeezing lightly. Her body reacts under your touch—a slight arch of her back, a shiver that you feel more than see—and it’s driving you insane.
“Seriously,” she says, her voice muffled as she rests her arms on her knees. “You’re too good at this.”
“You’re welcome,” you tease, your voice low, though you’re barely holding it together.
Her sighs grow softer, more frequent, and her breathing starts to change, deepening slightly. You’re not sure what’s happening anymore, but you don’t care. You’re touching her, she’s letting you, and it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you.
Then she mumbles something, so quiet you almost miss it.
“What?” you ask, leaning in instinctively, your ear close to her lips. “What did you say?”
She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t move. For a moment, you think she won’t answer, but then, in a voice so small it barely feels like her, she murmurs, “Kiss me.”
Oh.
Your breath catches. You pull back slightly, just enough to look at her, but she’s still staring down at her knees, her face half-hidden by the angle.
“Chaewon,” you say softly, her name catching in your throat.
She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look up, but her body shifts toward you, and that’s all the confirmation you need.
You lean in slowly, your lips brushing against the curve of her neck. Her skin is warm and soft, and she smells so good it makes your head spin. You start with a gentle kiss, hesitant, testing, but when she doesn’t pull away—when she lets out the quietest, softest sigh—you lose what little restraint you had left.
Your lips press more firmly against her neck, trailing downward, tasting her skin. Her body tilts toward you, her breathing uneven now, and one of her hands comes up to rest lightly on your arm, her fingers curling against your sleeve.
“God,” you murmur against her skin, your voice barely audible.
She doesn’t say anything, but the way she shifts closer, the way her fingers tighten on your arm, tells you everything you need to know.
Your lips trail up from her neck, slow and deliberate, savoring the warmth of her skin and the way she tilts her head to give you more access. Each kiss pulls a soft sigh from her, barely audible, but enough to set your blood on fire. You can feel her pulse quicken beneath your lips, her breathing uneven as you move closer to her jawline.
And then, without really thinking, you shift your angle and capture her lips.
She turns slightly, just enough to meet you halfway, and the kiss is soft at first—tentative, testing. The faint taste of tea lingers on her lips, mixing with a trace of whiskey, and it’s so much better than you expected. You kiss her deeper, and she responds, her lips parting slightly as the kiss grows more insistent.
You’re still behind her, one arm slipping around her waist to pull her closer as your other hand trails up her side. Her body melts into yours, her back pressing against your chest, and you can feel the subtle tremor running through her as your lips move together.
Her blouse is in your way. It’s driving you crazy.
Your hands start to move without thinking, sliding down her front and finding the buttons of her blouse. The fabric is soft, just like her, and your fingers fumble slightly, but you manage to undo the first button, then the second, all while keeping your lips locked with hers.
Chaewon lets out a quiet gasp as your hand brushes against her bare skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand reaches up, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as her other hand grips your arm, her nails digging in lightly.
“Are you…” she starts to whisper, but her words are lost in a gasp when you undo another button, your hand slipping inside her blouse to rest against her stomach.
She feels so warm under your touch, her body soft and perfect, and you can’t help but move your hand upward, brushing the edge of her bra. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her breathing heavy, and you take the opportunity to kiss her neck again, trailing upward to her ear.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Chaewon freezes for just a second, like she’s caught off guard, but then she turns her head slightly, meeting your lips again in a kiss that’s more desperate than the first. Her hands pull you closer, her body pressing against yours as her blouse falls open, the fabric slipping from her shoulders.
You barely notice the sound of her breath hitching, too focused on the way her skin feels under your hands, the way her lips taste like tea and warmth and Chaewon.
The blouse clings stubbornly to Chaewon’s waist, but you’ve had enough of it. She seems to share the same feeling, raising her arms without a word, your fingers find the fabric, and with one smooth, determined motion, you slide it up and over her head, tossing it behind you without a glance. Now she’s facing you, her skin flushed, her breathing shallow, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.
Her tiny waist curves perfectly into her hips, her perky breasts framed by a simple black lace bra that somehow makes her even more devastatingly beautiful. Chaewon shifts slightly under your gaze, her cheeks turning pink, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she smirks faintly, like she knows exactly what’s going through your head.
“You done staring, or should I charge you for the show?” she teases, her voice light but tinged with nervousness.
You grin, your heart pounding. “Sorry, just… wow. You’re gorgeous, Chaewon.”
Her smirk falters, her lips parting slightly, and for a moment, she looks almost shy. But then she steps closer, fingers already moving toward the buttons of your blouse. “Okay, your turn. Fair’s fair.”
She starts unbuttoning slowly, each flick of her fingers deliberate, grazing your skin just enough to send shivers down your spine. Once the last button is undone, she slides the blouse off your shoulders, taking off one sleeve at a time before tossing it somewhere behind her like it doesn’t matter.
Her hand comes up, hesitating for a moment before she places it on your chest, her fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “I’ve imagined this,” she says quietly.
You swallow hard, your breath catching at the honesty in her words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs, her eyes meeting yours. “More than I’d like to admit.”
Her hand continues its slow exploration, her touch sending shivers down your spine. You feel completely exposed, but not in a bad way. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you—like she’s seeing you, all of you, and she likes what she sees.
Unable to resist any longer, you reach for her, pulling her close and guiding her back to the couch. She lets you, her body soft and pliant under your hands as you lower her down onto the cushions.
Her hair fans out against the dark fabric, and her lips curve into a small, teasing smile as you settle on top of her, your weight braced on your elbows. “Comfy?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Very,” you reply, grinning down at her. “How about you?”
“I’ll let you know,” she says, her hands sliding up your back to pull you closer.
You kiss her again, slow and deep, savoring the way her body responds beneath you. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, her legs shifting to tangle with yours, and the soft sounds she makes between kisses are enough to drive you insane.
Chaewon’s lips are addictive. Every time you think you’ve had your fill, she moves just right, sighs into your mouth, or tilts her head to let you deepen the kiss. It’s impossible to stop, and honestly, you don’t want to.
At some point, she breaks the kiss, panting lightly, her eyes half-lidded as she smirks. “Weren’t you exhausted ten minutes ago?”
You grin, brushing your thumb against her cheek. “Not anymore. Maybe it’s the tea.”
She arches an eyebrow. “The tea?”
“Or maybe it’s you,” you admit, leaning down to kiss her again, softer this time but no less intense.
She lets out a quiet laugh against your lips but doesn’t pull away. Her hands trail down your back, her nails grazing your skin lightly enough to make you shiver. You shift slightly, pressing your lips to her jaw, then down to her neck. She tilts her head automatically, giving you more room to work, but when your mouth latches onto the delicate skin below her ear, she gasps.
“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice breathy. “You’re gonna leave marks.”
You pause, your lips hovering over her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”
There’s a beat of silence where she doesn’t answer, just stares at you, her cheeks flushed and her breathing uneven. Then, almost too quietly, she whispers, “No.”
You grin against her skin, nipping lightly at the same spot before sucking gently, drawing a soft moan from her. Your hand moves to her waist, holding her in place as your mouth continues its path along her neck, alternating between kisses and playful bites.
Chaewon’s fingers thread through your hair, tugging slightly as she arches into you. “You’re such a nerd,” she mutters, though her tone lacks any real bite.
“And yet,” you reply, moving back up to kiss her mouth, “you’re here.”
She laughs, muffled by your lips, and then gasps softly as you bite her bottom lip, tugging just enough to make her squirm. Her hands tighten on your shoulders, and her legs shift, tangling further with yours as your kiss deepens.
Your hands slide up her back, finding the strap of her bra. The clasp feels impossibly tiny beneath your fingers, but you work at it, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing as her body presses closer to yours.
“Having trouble?” she teases, her lips brushing against yours.
“Shut up,” you murmur, grinning as you finally manage to unhook it.
Your hands work the clasp on Chaewon’s bra, finally unhooking it with a small triumph you try to play cool. The straps slide off her shoulders, and just as you’re about to toss it aside, she holds it against her chest, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly.
“Wait,” she says, her voice soft, almost hesitant.
You freeze, leaning back slightly to meet her gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen from your kisses, but there’s a different kind of vulnerability in her eyes now.
“You’re not just doing this because you’re… you know, hurting, right?” she asks quietly. “I don’t want to be just some kind of band-aid for you.”
For a moment, all the heat between you cools just enough for you to realize how much weight she’s carrying in this moment, how much she’s letting herself be exposed.
“Chaewon,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a little, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was already planning the wedding.”
Her eyes widen for a split second before she laughs, a short, startled sound that breaks the tension just enough. “You’re such an idiot,” she mutters, shaking her head.
“Yeah,” you admit, smiling softly. “But seriously…” You reach up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not a band-aid. You’re… special. You’ve always been special, and I’m sorry it took me this long to see it.”
Her breath hitches, her eyes searching yours for something you hope she finds. Then, with a faint smirk, she murmurs, “Damn right I’m special.”
You chuckle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, you are. And I’m lucky. You’re… kind of the best thing in my life right now, you know that?”
Chaewon doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with an expression that’s so raw and open it makes your chest ache. Then, slowly, she lets the bra slip from her hands, her arms falling to her sides as she finally lets you see her.
Her perky breasts are small but perfect, her pale skin flushed and warm. You take a moment to just look at her, taking her in, and the way she shifts slightly under your gaze, her lips parting, makes your breath catch.
“You’re gorgeous,” you murmur, your voice low and reverent.
She huffs, clearly trying to deflect. “You’ve said that already.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true.”
Her eyes meet yours again, and this time, there’s no hesitation, no barriers.
Your lips find hers, and this time the kiss is slower, deeper, your body pressing down against hers as you settle into the couch. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer, her fingers tangling in your hair as if she’s trying to anchor herself.
Your hand moves almost instinctively, sliding from her waist up to her chest. When your palm finally covers her breast, you pause for just a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your hand, the softness yielding perfectly to your touch.
Chaewon lets out a quiet, breathy sound against your lips, her back arching slightly into your touch. It’s all the encouragement you need. Your fingers squeeze gently, testing, and her response—a soft moan that she tries to muffle—sends heat rushing through you.
You break the kiss, trailing your lips down her jaw, her neck, leaving small, open-mouthed kisses along the way. She tilts her head back, her breathing uneven, her fingers tightening in your hair as your mouth makes its way lower.
When your lips reach her collarbone, you pause to glance up at her, your eyes meeting hers. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and there’s something so intoxicating about the way she’s looking at you—trusting, wanting.
You kiss the top of her breast first, softly, reverently, before moving lower. Your hand slides away, making room for your mouth as you finally reach her nipple.
It’s small and perfectly pink, the areola slightly darker and tight against the cool air of the room. You pause, your lips hovering just above her skin, and then you take her nipple into your mouth, sucking gently.
Chaewon gasps, her body jolting slightly beneath you, her hands gripping your shoulders now. “God,” she breathes, her voice trembling.
You swirl your tongue around the hardened bud, teasing, tasting, savoring the way she reacts—her quiet whimpers, the way her fingers dig into your skin. You suck a little harder, pulling her nipple further into your mouth, and she arches her back, pressing herself closer to you.
When you move to the other breast, you take your time, kissing your way across her chest, letting your lips linger on her skin. Her other nipple is just as perfect, already taut with anticipation when your tongue flicks over it for the first time.
Her response is immediate—a soft moan that makes your chest tighten, your name falling from her lips like a prayer. You suck gently, then harder, alternating with flicks of your tongue that make her shiver beneath you.
You take a moment to glance up again, her face flushed and her eyes half-closed as she watches you, her lips parted, her breathing uneven. There’s something about the way she looks right now—completely undone, completely yours—that makes you feel like you’re falling and never want to stop.
You return to her breasts, your mouth working over her soft skin as if you’ve got all the time in the world. Each kiss, each lick, each gentle nip earns you another sigh, another soft gasp that makes your pulse race. Her nipples are sensitive under your tongue, tightening further with every flick and suck, and you savor the way her body responds—how she arches toward you, her hands restless against your back, her quiet sounds growing needier.
Eventually, you pull away, leaving her flushed and breathing hard, her chest rising and falling beneath you. You kiss your way back up to her collarbone, her neck, and finally her lips, her taste familiar now but still somehow electrifying.
You pause for a moment, your forehead resting against hers as you catch your breath. “Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low and a little rough. “Do you… want to move to the bed?”
She looks at you, her dark eyes hazy with want but still sharp enough to catch you off guard. For a second, she just stares, like she’s weighing the moment, before finally whispering, “Yeah.”
Her answer is simple, but it’s all you need. Without hesitating, you slip your arms around her, lifting her from the couch with surprising ease. She gasps softly at the sudden movement, her hands automatically gripping your shoulders for balance, but she’s smiling, her lips curving into a rare, unguarded grin.
“You didn’t have to carry me,” she says, her voice teasing but breathy as you press a kiss to her cheek.
“I wanted to,” you reply, grinning against her skin as you kiss your way down to her neck.
She chuckles, the sound soft and breathless, and hooks an arm around your neck, guiding you toward the hallway. You follow her lead, your lips never leaving her skin as you walk. You kiss her jaw, her ear, her throat, savoring every quiet sigh and shiver as her fingers tangle in your hair.
When you reach her bedroom, you fumble briefly but manage to switch on the light without releasing Chaewon from your grasp. A soft, amber glow floods the room, painting her delicate features in hues of warmth. You lower her onto the bed gently, taking a step back to admire the sight in front of you.
Chaewon lies there, half-naked and impossibly beautiful, her flushed skin glowing in the soft light. Her blouse is gone, her bra discarded, and her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath. Her pants are still on, but the way they cling to her hips and thighs makes your throat tighten.
You swallow hard, stepping closer as she watches you, her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. Slowly, you reach for the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you undo the button.
“You okay?” you ask, glancing up at her.
She nods, her gaze steady but warm. “Yeah. Keep going.”
You slide the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room, and begin to ease the fabric down her hips. The process is slower than you expect, your hands trembling slightly as you reveal inch after inch of smooth, pale skin.
And then her panties come into view.
They’re simple but beautiful, black lace with intricate floral patterns that contrast perfectly against her soft skin. The delicate fabric sits low on her hips, hugging her in a way that leaves little to the imagination. The edges are trimmed with a subtle scalloped design, the lace slightly sheer, hinting at the curves beneath without fully revealing them.
For a moment, you just stare, your breath catching as your hands linger on her hips. You never imagined you’d find yourself here—literally undressing your coworker, who you’ve argued with over staplers and coffee orders—but here you are, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re staring again,” Chaewon says, her voice tinged with humor but softer than usual.
“I think you better get used to it.” you reply, your voice low as you run your fingers lightly over the waistband of her panties.
She huffs, her cheeks turning pink, but she doesn’t look away. “Just don’t make it weird.”
You chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to her stomach, just above the lace. “Too late.”
As your fingers trail along the waistband of Chaewon’s panties, her breathing hitches, her body shifting slightly beneath your touch. The delicate lace is impossibly soft under your fingertips, a fragile barrier that feels both tantalizing and maddening. Slowly, you slide your fingers under the fabric, your knuckles brushing against her skin as you begin to ease the panties down.
She lifts her hips just enough to help you, her legs bending and turning slightly as you pull the lace down her thighs, over her knees, and finally off her feet. The room feels impossibly quiet, every rustle of fabric and soft exhale amplified in the charged air between you.
When you glance back up, she’s already spreading her legs, the invitation clear. Your breath catches as you take her in fully for the first time.
Her pussy is beautiful, her lips soft and slightly swollen, glistening faintly in the low light of the room. The pink of her inner folds is just visible, a delicate contrast against the smooth skin of her thighs. She’s bare, her skin perfect and inviting, the sight enough to make your mouth water.
You lean down slowly, your lips trailing kisses along the inside of her thigh. Her skin is warm beneath your mouth, impossibly soft, and she lets out a quiet, shaky sigh as your kisses move higher. Her scent hits you then—subtle, musky, intoxicating. It’s uniquely her, a mix of clean and raw and heady, and it pulls you in like nothing else.
Your hands rest on her thighs, holding them gently as you kiss closer to her center. When your lips finally brush against her, she gasps softly, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the touch. You start slow, your tongue flicking lightly over her folds, tasting her for the first time.
She’s warm, slick, and utterly addictive, her taste filling your senses as you suck gently on her clit. Her body jerks slightly beneath you, her thighs trembling against your hands as she moans quietly, her voice soft and breathy.
“God,” she murmurs, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly as her hips shift toward you.
You smile against her, your tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, savoring every sound she makes, every small shiver of her body. Her scent grows stronger as you continue, her arousal unmistakable, and it’s everything you can do to keep your movements controlled, purposeful, to draw this out as long as you can.
Chaewon’s hands find your hair, her fingers tangling in it as she pulls you closer, her breaths coming quicker now. Her quiet gasps and soft moans are music to your ears, each one driving you further, pushing you to explore every inch of her with your mouth.
Your lips stay locked onto her, tongue flicking and teasing, savoring the way she’s opening up for you, literally and figuratively. Chaewon’s taste is rich and intoxicating, a mix of salt and sweet that you could drown in and never come up for air. As you suck gently on her clit, your tongue presses just enough to send a ripple through her body, and her moan—low, breathy, needy—reverberates straight through you.
“Fuck,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “That feels… so good.”
You hum against her, the vibration making her legs tremble. “You taste so fucking amazing,” you mutter between licks, your lips brushing against her slick folds as you speak. “Could do this all night.”
She gasps, her thighs tightening around your head for a moment before relaxing again. “You’re such a fucking nerd,” she says, trying to sound teasing but failing miserably as her voice cracks into a moan.
“And you’re so fucking wet,” you shoot back, your fingers sliding along her folds to prove your point. The slickness coats your fingertips instantly, and you bring them to your mouth for a quick taste, groaning softly at the sheer decadence of it. “Jesus, Chaewon… you’re delicious.”
Her cheeks flush even darker, her hips jerking slightly as you lean back in, your tongue diving between her folds to lap up every bit of her arousal. She’s wetter now, her juices pooling at her entrance, and you don’t waste a second, licking her clean like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.
“God, yes,” she whimpers, her hands clutching at your hair as her back arches off the bed. “Don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” you reply, grinning against her before wrapping your lips around her clit again, sucking it gently but firmly.
Her response is immediate—a sharp intake of breath, her body tightening as if she’s trying to hold herself together but failing miserably. “Fuck… oh, fuck,” she moans, her hips grinding against your mouth, chasing the pressure.
You slide a hand up her thigh, your thumb teasing the edge of her entrance as your tongue works her clit. “You like that?” you ask, your voice muffled by her heat.
“Y-yeah,” she stammers, her head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop.”
Her words spur you on, your movements growing bolder, more confident. You suck harder, alternating with quick flicks of your tongue, and she’s practically trembling now, her body taut like a bowstring.
“You’re so fucking hot like this,” you murmur, your fingers dipping just slightly inside her, feeling how wet and warm she is, how her body clenches around the slightest touch. “Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”
“Shut up,” she gasps, her voice ragged as her hips buck against you. “Just—fuck—keep going.”
You oblige, your tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem to drive her higher, her moans spilling out unfiltered now. Chaewon’s normally sharp, snarky voice is reduced to breathless gasps and broken curses, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.
Your tongue circles Chaewon’s clit with deliberate slowness, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to make her squirm. Your fingers slide deeper inside her, curling slightly to find that sweet spot, the one that makes her hips jerk involuntarily. She’s soaking wet now, her slick heat coating your fingers, making every movement easier, smoother.
“Fuck,” she moans, her voice breaking as her legs spread wider, inviting you to take everything she’s offering. Her hands are still tangled in your hair, tugging, pulling, as if she’s trying to ground herself while her body writhes under your touch.
You lift your head slightly, your lips brushing against her inner thigh as you speak. “Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and rough. “So fucking wet for me. You’re dripping, Chaewon. You like this, huh?”
Her response is a strangled moan, her back arching off the bed as you press your thumb against her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. “Y-yeah,” she gasps, her voice trembling. “I fucking love it.”
You smirk, leaning back down to suck her clit into your mouth, your tongue flicking over it in quick, teasing motions. “Good,” you say, your voice muffled by her. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re shaking.”
She whimpers at that, her hands tightening in your hair as her thighs clamp briefly around your head. “God, you’re such a fucking tease,” she mutters, though the breathless laugh that follows makes it clear she doesn’t mean it.
You grin, your fingers thrusting deeper as you suck harder, pulling a broken cry from her lips. “You love it,” you reply, your tongue swirling around her clit before flicking it sharply.
“Fuck—yes,” she moans, her voice growing louder now, more desperate. Her hips grind against your mouth, chasing the friction, and you can feel her getting closer, her body tightening around your fingers with each thrust.
“God, Chaewon,” you murmur between licks, your lips brushing against her slick folds. “You’re so fucking needy. You’re dripping all over me, baby. Can’t get enough, huh?”
“Shut up,” she gasps, though her moans tell you otherwise. Her head falls back against the pillow, her chest heaving as her nails rake lightly against your scalp. “Just… just keep going.”
You oblige, your tongue and fingers working in perfect rhythm now, pushing her higher, closer to the edge. Her clit is swollen and sensitive under your tongue, every flick and suck pulling another moan, another gasp, another curse from her lips.
“Come on, Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come, baby. I want to taste you.”
Her only response is a sharp cry, her body arching off the bed as she clenches around your fingers, her thighs trembling. She’s so close now, her moans turning into desperate whimpers, her hips grinding against your face with reckless abandon.
“Fuck—don’t stop,” she pleads, her voice breaking. “Please, don’t fucking stop.”
You don’t.
Your tongue drags over her clit with precision now, relentless and firm, while your fingers pump into her soaked pussy, curling perfectly against that sensitive spot deep inside her. Chaewon’s breaths are shallow, gasping, her chest heaving with every movement. The taste of her, that musky, sweet cream she’s releasing for you, coats your tongue, addictive and intoxicating.
Her thighs tremble on either side of your head, twitching every time you flick your tongue just right. She’s not quiet anymore—she’s a beautiful, messy symphony of moans and gasps, her voice cracking into broken sentences.
“Fuck—oh god—don’t—don’t stop—” she babbles, her words tumbling out without control. Her hips buck wildly, her hands gripping the sheets so tight her knuckles are white. “It’s—it’s so good—fuck—so fucking—”
You glance up for just a second, your eyes locking onto her flushed face. Her head is thrown back, her lips parted, and her hair sticks to her damp forehead. She’s beautiful, absolutely wrecked, and knowing you’re the reason she’s like this makes your blood pound in your ears.
“You’re so fucking hot like this,” you murmur, your voice low and muffled against her pussy. “Can feel how close you are, baby. You gonna come for me?”
“Y-yeah,” she gasps, her thighs twitching against your head as her body trembles. “Fuck—I’m so—oh god, I can’t—”
“You can,” you insist, sucking her clit hard and thrusting your fingers deeper, curling them perfectly. “Come for me, Chaewon. I want to feel it. Want to taste every fucking drop.”
Her entire body goes taut, her back arching sharply as a scream rips from her throat. “FUCK—I’m—oh, oh, oh—” Her thighs snap shut around your head, trapping you there as her pussy clenches hard around your fingers, waves of wet heat flooding against your hand and tongue.
You don’t stop. You keep sucking her clit, even as her body shakes uncontrollably, even as her legs try to squeeze you out. She’s soaking now, her juices dripping down your fingers, her moans turning into breathless whimpers as she rides out the intensity of her orgasm.
“Too—too much—fuck—” she cries, her voice trembling, her hips jerking away from your mouth even as her legs keep you pinned.
You finally ease up, pressing soft, teasing kisses to her clit as her body twitches beneath you. Her thighs slowly loosen their grip, and you pull back just enough to watch her, your lips and chin wet with her arousal.
Chaewon’s chest heaves, her face flushed and glowing as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, and when she meets your gaze, her lips curve into a weak, satisfied smile.
You trail kisses up her trembling body, taking your time as you savor every inch of Chaewon’s soft, warm skin. Her chest rises and falls beneath you, still heaving from her orgasm, and you pause to press a kiss to her collarbone, then her neck, before finally reaching her lips.
She meets you halfway, her kiss slow but insistent, her fingers threading into your hair to hold you close. There’s something almost intoxicating about the way her lips taste now, mingled with the faint, musky tang of her own release.
When you finally pull back, her cheeks are flushed, and her lips curl into a teasing smirk. “You’re surprisingly good at that,” she says, her voice still breathless but laced with humor. “For a nerd.”
You laugh, the sound low and warm, leaning down to brush your nose against hers. “Even nerds have their talents.”
She quirks an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh? And what other talents do you have, exactly?”
Before you can answer, her hand slides down between your bodies, pressing against the hard length of your cock through your pants. The pressure makes you inhale sharply, your hips jerking slightly as her fingers curl around you.
“Because I’m curious,” she continues, her tone dripping with mock innocence as her thumb rubs slow circles over the fabric.
You groan softly, dropping your forehead against hers. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Chaewon.”
“Am I?” she asks, her voice light and teasing, though her grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch.
You lift your head to meet her gaze, your eyes dark with intent. “Guess I’ll have to show you.”
Her eyes widen slightly as you reach down, your hands brushing against hers as you unbutton your pants. The metallic click of the zipper echoes in the quiet room, and you can feel the way her breathing quickens, her body shifting beneath you as her curiosity gives way to anticipation.
You push yourself up slightly, Chaewon’s hands falling away as you shift to sit on your knees. Her gaze follows you, her chest still rising and falling, her lips parted slightly as she watches you reach for your waistband.
Slowly, deliberately, you push your pants down your hips, the fabric sliding down your legs until they’re off completely. Then comes your underwear. Her eyes don’t leave you for a second, dark and intent, and when you finally free yourself, her lips part in a soft gasp.
She’s staring now, her cheeks flushed, her pupils blown wide. “Holy shit,” she murmurs.
You smirk, crawling back over her until you’re close enough to kiss. “Like what you see?”
Chaewon huffs out a breathy laugh, her hand reaching down to wrap around your cock. Her grip is warm, her fingers soft but firm as she strokes you slowly, making your hips jerk slightly. “Didn’t expect you to be… this big,” she says, her tone teasing but tinged with genuine surprise.
“Guess nerds have surprises too,” you manage, though your voice comes out rough as her thumb brushes over your tip.
She laughs again, the sound low and sinful, before pulling you down into another kiss. Her mouth is warm and insistent against yours, her tongue slipping past your lips as her hand keeps working you, slow and deliberate. You groan into her mouth, your hips moving involuntarily into her touch.
When you finally pull away, panting slightly, you rest your forehead against hers. “Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low. “What about a condom?”
Her eyes flick up to yours, her gaze steady and full of intent. “Don’t need it,” she says softly, her legs shifting to wrap loosely around your hips.
“Are you sure?” you ask, your cock brushing against her thigh as you shift slightly.
“I’m sure,” she says, her voice firmer now. Her hands move to your shoulders, pulling you closer as she tilts her head up to kiss you briefly. “I’ve been waiting for this. For you.”
Her words make something in your chest tighten, and you nod, swallowing hard as you position yourself between her legs.
You reach down, guiding your cock to her wet entrance, teasing her folds with your tip. The heat of her, the way her slickness coats you immediately, sends a shiver down your spine. You rub yourself against her slowly, deliberately, savoring the way her hips jerk and her breath catches.
“Fuck,” she mutters, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You’re such a tease.”
You grin, leaning down to kiss her neck as you keep teasing her, your cock sliding against her clit. “Just want to make sure you’re ready, baby.”
“I’ve been ready,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands slide down your back, her nails digging in lightly as she arches toward you. “I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this. For you. Totally for you.”
Her words hit you like a spark, and you can’t hold back anymore. You line yourself up with her entrance, pressing forward just enough to feel her warmth envelop you. Her body tenses beneath you, her breath hitching as you begin to push inside, slow and deliberate, savoring every second.
You sink into her inch by inch, her wet pussy pulling you in so perfectly it feels like nothing else has ever mattered. Chaewon gasps beneath you, her hands flying to your back, nails biting into your skin as her legs tighten around your hips.
“Fuck,” she breathes, her voice trembling, almost desperate. “You feel so—God, you’re so fucking—”
“Perfect?” you finish for her, grinning against her neck as you push deeper.
“Shut up—” she gasps, her nails dragging down your back as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “You’re so fucking cocky—”
“Yeah, and you’re so fucking tight,” you growl, pulling back just enough before thrusting back in, slow and deep, making her gasp sharply.
Her thighs clamp around you, her heels digging into your lower back as if she’s trying to keep you buried inside her. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop,” she babbles, her voice breaking with every word. “I’ve wanted this—so fucking long—”
“Yeah?” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear as you start moving, setting a steady rhythm that has her clinging to you like a lifeline. “You’ve been thinking about me, baby? Thinking about me fucking you like this?”
“Fuck—yes,” she moans, her back arching as her hips lift to meet your thrusts. “Every time you—stole my stapler—every time you—looked at me like that—”
You laugh breathlessly, your mouth trailing down her neck to her collarbone. “Possessive, huh? Didn’t know you were so obsessed with me, Chaewon.”
“Shut up—” she says again, but the way her nails rake down your back and the way she moans your name tells you exactly how much she loves this.
Her hands find your face, pulling you into a desperate, messy kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, her breath hot against your mouth. “You’re mine,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling but firm. “You hear me? Mine—don’t you fucking forget it—”
“Yours,” you rasp, your thrusts growing harder, deeper, each one pulling a broken cry from her lips. “All fucking yours, Chaewon—fuck—you feel so good, baby—so fucking perfect—”
“Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—” she moans, her voice rising, her body tightening around you like she’s trying to pull you even deeper. “I love this—I love you—God, you’re mine—mine—mine—”
Her words, the way she’s gasping and clinging to you, sends you spiraling. You bury your face in her neck, your thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as you chase the high building between you. Her moans turn into cries, her voice breaking with every thrust as her body arches against yours.
“Fuck—fuck—oh my God—” she cries, her voice high and trembling as she comes, her pussy clenching hard around you.
You keep moving, pushing her through it, her cries turning into breathless whimpers as her body shakes beneath you. She clings to you like she never wants to let go, her lips brushing against your neck as she murmurs your name over and over again, a mantra that makes your chest ache with something deeper than just lust.
You thrust into her again, deep and deliberate, feeling the way Chaewon’s pussy tightens around you with every movement. She gasps, her head falling back against the pillows.
“Fuck—” she breathes, her voice trembling as you pick up your pace, your hips slamming against hers in a rhythm that has her thighs quivering around you. “You’re so—God, you’re so deep—”
“You love it, don’t you?” you growl, leaning down to nip at her neck, your teeth grazing her skin. “Love how I fill you up. You’re so fucking tight, Chaewon. Feels like you were made for me.”
Her response is a strangled moan, her legs wrapping tighter around your hips as her hands grip your back. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”
“I wasn’t planning to,” you reply, grinning against her collarbone as you thrust harder, your cock sliding in and out of her slick heat. “You’re too fucking good, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”
Chaewon’s nails dig into your back, her voice breaking into a series of gasps and half-formed words. “Fuck—yes—more—just like that—”
You shift slightly, angling your hips to hit that spot deep inside her, and her reaction is immediate. She cries out, her body arching off the bed as her pussy clenches around you.
“Right there?” you murmur, your voice low and teasing as you grind into her, drawing another sharp gasp from her lips.
“God—yes—right there—” she stammers, her hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “Fuck—you’re so good—so fucking good—”
You speed up, your thrusts growing rougher, more erratic, and her cries grow louder, more desperate. She’s a mess beneath you now, her hair sticking to her damp forehead, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “All mine. Say it, Chaewon. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours—” she gasps, her voice trembling as she clings to you. “All yours—fuck—I’ve always been yours—”
Her words spur you on, your hips slamming into hers harder, deeper, your cock throbbing inside her as her pussy grips you tighter with every thrust. “Good girl,” you growl, your hand slipping between her legs to rub her clit, making her moan louder.
“Fuck—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—” she pleads, her voice breaking as her hips buck against yours, chasing the release that’s just out of reach.
You keep pounding into her, your rhythm steady but hard enough to make the bed creak beneath you. Chaewon’s moans spill out unfiltered, her hands clutching at your shoulders, nails dragging across your skin in a way that only fuels your drive.
Then you get an idea.
Your hand slides down her stomach, your palm flat against her soft skin. When your fingers reach just above her pubic bone, you press down lightly, applying pressure right where you know it’ll make a difference.
The reaction is instant.
“Fuck—what—” she gasps, her thighs tightening around your waist as her body jolts beneath you. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, the extra stimulation driving her wild as her head tilts back, exposing her flushed throat.
“Feel that?” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her neck, your hand staying firm against her lower abdomen as you thrust into her, each movement rubbing her G-spot perfectly. “Right here, baby. I can feel how close you are.”
“Oh my God—fuck—” she moans, her voice rising as her hips buck up to meet yours. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—oh, God, it’s so good—”
“Yeah, you like that?” you growl, your pace quickening as you press down harder, feeling the way her body reacts to every thrust. “You’re so fucking tight, Chaewon—Jesus, you’re squeezing me so good—”
Her response is a broken cry, her thighs trembling around your hips as her hands grip you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I can’t—I can’t—fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Gonna what?” you tease, your voice low and rough as you lean closer, your mouth brushing against her ear. “Gonna come all over my cock? Do it, baby—I want to feel it. Come for me.”
“Fuck—yes—” she chokes out, her voice trembling as her body tightens beneath you, her pussy clenching harder, wetter.
You push yourself up, your hands gripping Chaewon’s hips for leverage as you lift your body above her. With nothing to hold you back, you start pounding into her, hard and fast, your cock driving deep into her soaked pussy. Each thrust is accompanied by the wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting, the noise blending with her uncontrolled moans into a symphony of raw lust.
Chaewon’s head tosses back against the pillow, her hair splayed out like a dark halo. Her hands clutch at the sheets now, her knuckles white as she fights to hold on, her voice spilling out in broken cries and gasps.
“Fuck—fuck—you’re so deep,” she stammers, her words slurring slightly as her legs tighten around your waist. “I can’t—GOD, it’s so good—”
Your hand returns to her lower abdomen, pressing down firmly just above her pubic bone. The moment you do, her body jolts, her pussy clenching hard around you like she’s trying to pull you in even deeper.
“Feel that?” you grunt, your voice rough as you look down at her, watching the way her body reacts beneath you. “I’m fucking you so good, baby. You’re so fucking tight—so wet—Jesus—This pussy is perfect.
Her response is a string of broken sounds, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips jerk up to meet yours. “I’m—I’m gonna—fuck—” she gasps, her hands flying up to grab at your arms, nails digging in as her thighs tremble.
You lean down slightly, your cock driving into her harder, deeper, as your thumb rubs circles into her clit while your hand presses her abdomen. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” you murmur, your voice low and commanding. “Do it. Cum for me, Chaewon. Show me how good I make you feel.”
Her eyes snap open, wild and glassy, and she lets out a cry that’s half your name, half a desperate moan. “Fuck—I’m—I’m cumming—”
You don’t let up, your pace relentless, your cock pounding into her slick heat as her entire body tenses beneath you. Her pussy clamps down on you, tight and pulsing, and you can feel the gush of wetness as her orgasm hits her full force.
“Oh my—fuck—oh my God—” she babbles, her voice breaking as her back arches off the bed. Her head thrashes from side to side, her hands gripping your arms like a lifeline as her body trembles violently.
Her eyes roll back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream, and you watch, mesmerized, as she completely falls apart. Her body shakes with the force of her orgasm, her thighs quivering as her pussy spasms around you, milking your cock with every wave of pleasure.
“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice rough but softening as you slow your movements, letting her ride it out. “So fucking beautiful when you cum for me.”
Chaewon’s response is barely coherent, a string of inaudible murmurs and random words that dissolve into breathless gasps. Her body trembles beneath you, her chest heaving as she comes down, her hands loosening their grip on your arms.
You slow to a stop, your cock still buried deep inside her as you lean down to press a soft kiss to her temple. She’s radiant, her skin flushed, her eyes half-closed as she looks up at you with a dazed, blissed-out expression that makes your cock throbs.
Chaewon lies beneath you, her chest still rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath. Her skin is flushed, her hair a wild mess against the pillow, and she looks utterly wrecked in the most beautiful way. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with wide, slightly dazed eyes.
Then she finally speaks, her voice a little hoarse but still carrying that sharp edge that’s so uniquely hers. “Holy shit. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
You grin, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “What, you didn’t think I had any attitude in bed?”
She laughs softly, the sound half incredulous, half amused. “No! You’re like… a puppy most of the time. All lost eyes and awkward energy. And now this?” Her hand gestures vaguely between the two of you, as if she can’t even put it into words.
“Even a puppy’s got teeth,” you tease, nipping lightly at her jaw before trailing kisses down her neck.
“Clearly,” she mutters, her fingers sliding up into your hair as you kiss her. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the soft sound of your mouths meeting, her legs still loosely wrapped around your waist, keeping you close.
You pull back just enough to look at her, your smirk widening. “You okay down there?”
“Oh, I’m better than okay,” she says, narrowing her eyes at you, though there’s no mistaking the warmth in her gaze. “But I’m also pissed.”
You blink, caught off guard. “Pissed? Why?”
“All this time,” she says, her tone half scolding, half playful, “you were this good in bed and you deprived me of it? Do you know how unfair that is?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
“Not funny,” she snaps, though the way her lips curve into a smirk betrays her. “You’re lucky I’m not kicking you out right now.”
“You’re right,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, slow and deliberate. “Maybe I deserve to be punished.”
Her eyes glint with mischief as she kisses you back, her nails dragging lightly down your back. “Oh, you definitely deserve it. Bad puppy.”
“Yeah?” you murmur against her lips, your voice dropping. “How should I make it up to you?”
Chaewon pauses, pretending to think about it as her hand slides up your arm, her fingers brushing your shoulder. “For starters, you’re not leaving this apartment all weekend.”
“All weekend?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, her legs tightening around your waist again, keeping you firmly in place. “You’re staying here. With me. Making up for lost time.”
You smirk, your hips shifting slightly to remind her that you’re still buried inside her. “Sounds like the best punishment I’ve ever heard.”
“Good,” she says, her tone playful but firm as she pulls you down for another kiss.
“No complaints,” you whisper against her lips.
“None allowed,” she replies, her voice low and teasing.
You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound blending with hers as you kiss her again.
Between soft pecks, she murmurs, “Now I want to suck your cock.”
Her words send a jolt of heat straight through you, and you groan softly, brushing your thumb against her flushed cheek. “Yeah?”
She nods, her smirk growing, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a way that makes your cock twitch inside her. “You’ve been driving me insane. Let me make it up to you.”
You laugh softly, leaning up to kiss her again before murmuring against her lips, “Turn around, baby. Sit on my face while you do.”
Her eyes darken, and she doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls herself off your cock slowly, the sensation making both of you gasp, and you watch as she moves with a kind of confident grace that has your heart racing.
You shift onto your back, your head sinking into the pillow as she climbs over you, her knees straddling your shoulders. Her pussy is right there, glistening, flushed, and still slick with her creamy release. The sight alone is enough to make you groan.
But she doesn’t stop there. Chaewon shifts again, leaning forward and gripping your cock in her hand. It’s still wet with her juices, shining in the soft light, and she doesn’t waste any time. Her tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up the length, tasting herself on you.
“Fuck, Chaewon,” you breathe, your hands gripping her thighs as she lowers herself onto your mouth.
The first taste of her is overwhelming—warm, wet, and utterly intoxicating. You dive in, your tongue sliding between her folds to lap up the creamy slickness she left behind. She gasps, her body jerking slightly as you suck on her clit, your hands gripping her hips to hold her in place.
“Shit—” she moans, her voice muffled as she takes your cock deeper into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive head before sliding down the shaft, her lips stretching as she takes more of you.
The room fills with the obscene sounds of wet sucking and muffled moans, the vibrations of her throat around your cock sending shocks of pleasure through your body. But you’re just as relentless, your tongue circling her clit before dipping back into her entrance, tasting the creamy slickness she’s giving you.
Your hands grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you suck and lick, driving her higher. Her moans grow louder, vibrating around your cock as she bobs her head, her hand stroking the base in rhythm with her mouth.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” you groan, your voice muffled against her pussy. “So fucking wet, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”
She pulls off your cock with a wet pop, gasping as her hips grind against your face. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she mutters breathlessly before taking you back into her mouth, her tongue working you with an intensity that makes your head spin.
The heat, the wetness, the overwhelming pleasure—it’s too much and not enough all at once. Your world narrows to the feel of her pussy on your tongue, the taste of her, the way her lips glide over your cock.
Chaewon’s hips rock against your face, her movements desperate now as her moans grow louder, more urgent. “Fuck—this is so good—” she gasps, her lips wrap tighter around your cock, her movements slow and deliberate as she takes you deep into her mouth.
Chaewon is dripping saliva now, her mouth working expertly as her tongue flicks along the underside of your shaft with every bob of her head. You glance down and see the way your cock glistens, a mix of her drool and the remnants of her creamy juices pooling at the base and dripping down to your balls. It’s filthy, and it’s driving you insane.
“Fuck, Chaewon,” you groan, your voice muffled as your mouth stays latched to her pussy. You tighten your grip on her ass, spreading her cheeks as you pull her even closer, her wet heat pressing firmly against your lips.
She lets out a muffled moan around your cock, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through you. Her hand wraps around your base, stroking the length she can’t fit in her mouth, her movements slick and messy.
Your tongue moves with purpose now, circling her clit before dipping down to lap at her entrance, tasting the creamy slickness she’s giving you. She’s so sensitive, her pussy twitching against your mouth every time you press harder.
Your fingers dig into her ass, holding her firmly as you suck her clit into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the swollen bud. Chaewon gasps around your cock, her hips jerking against your face as her thighs tremble.
“Shit—oh fuck—” she gasps, pulling off your cock for just a second to catch her breath. A string of saliva connects her lips to your tip, and she doesn’t even bother wiping it away before diving back down, taking you deep with a lewd, wet sound.
You moan into her pussy, the vibrations making her shudder above you. Her hips grind against your face now, her body moving on instinct as her moans grow louder, more desperate. You focus on her clit, sucking and flicking your tongue relentlessly, feeling the way her body tightens beneath your hands.
“God—fuck—I’m so—” she stammers, her voice trembling as her thighs begin to shake. “I can’t—I’m gonna—oh my god—”
Her words spur you on, your mouth and tongue working overtime as you push her closer and closer to the edge. Her pussy clenches and spasms against your tongue, her juices flowing freely now, soaking your face as she loses control.
“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—” she cries out, her voice breaking as her body tenses.
Her orgasm hits her like a wave, her hips jerking wildly as her pussy pulses against your mouth. You don’t stop, your tongue lapping up every drop of her release, the salty-sweet taste of her flooding your senses.
Chaewon’s moans turn into sharp cries, her hands clutching at your thighs for balance as her body trembles violently. Her head tilts back, her hair sticking to her damp forehead as she gasps for air, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.
Her entire body shudders, her hips grinding one last time against your face before collapsing, her chest heaving as she lets out a shaky, satisfied moan. You pull back slightly, your lips and chin glistening with her release, and watch as she tries to catch her breath, her body still twitching from the aftershocks.
Chaewon’s body glistens in the dim light, her flushed skin still recovering from the intense orgasm you just gave her. Her dark eyes lock onto yours, shining with lust and something deeper—something unspoken but undeniably there.
You reach out, your hand sliding down her body slowly, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her hip. “Turn around,” you murmur, your voice low and thick. “Get on all fours.”
She doesn’t hesitate. With a languid grace, Chaewon shifts onto her hands and knees, her back arching as she adjusts herself. The sight in front of you is fucking breathtaking—her perky ass tilted up, her waist impossibly small, her thighs trembling just slightly as she steadies herself. Her pussy is glistening, swollen and wet, and your cock throbs painfully at the sight.
“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, stepping closer. Your hands move instinctively to her waist, gripping it gently at first, your thumbs brushing the soft skin just above her hips.
Chaewon glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling messily around her flushed face. Her lips curl into a sly smile as she notices the way your hands tighten on her. “Fits perfectly, doesn’t it?” she teases, her voice still breathy but filled with confidence.
“Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” you reply, your fingers digging into her waist slightly as your cock brushes against her wet entrance, teasing her. “You’re fucking incredible, Chaewon.”
She huffs out a soft laugh, then she bites her lip, her gaze steady as she says, “Go hard, okay? Make me scream.”
“You sure about that?” you ask, your voice rough as you press the head of your cock against her slick folds, teasing her clit.
“Don’t make me beg,” she mutters, her voice trembling slightly. “Just fucking do it.”
That’s all the encouragement you need. With one firm thrust, you push into her, burying yourself to the hilt. Her pussy is impossibly tight, wet, and warm, gripping you perfectly as you stretch her.
“Fuck—” Chaewon gasps, her back arching sharply as her hands clutch at the sheets. “Oh my God—”
Your hands tighten on her waist, holding her steady as you pull back slowly before slamming into her again, harder this time. Her cry echoes through the room, raw and unfiltered, and it only spurs you on.
“You feel so fucking good,” you growl, your hips snapping against hers with each thrust. “So fucking tight, Chaewon. Taking me so perfectly.”
“Fuck—yes—” she moans, her voice high and breathy as her body moves with yours. “Harder—please—don’t stop—”
Your grip on her waist tightens, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pound into her, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you. The sound of your bodies meeting—wet and obscene—fills the room, mixing with her breathless moans and your low groans.
“Scream for me, baby,” you growl, thrusting into her harder, deeper, making her cry out. “Come on, let me hear how much you love being my slut!”
“OH GOD—FUCK—You're fucking me so good!” she cries, her voice trembling as her head drops forward, her hair sticking to her damp skin. “You’re—oh fuck—”
You grip Chaewon’s waist tighter, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as your hips snap forward, burying yourself to the hilt inside her.
“Fuck—yes—fuck!” she screams, her head thrown back, hair sticking to her flushed skin. Her hands clutch at the sheets, pulling them tight as her body rocks forward with every thrust.
“Chaewon,” you growl, your voice low and rough, completely lost in the way she feels around you. “You’re so fucking perfect. This pussy—fuck—it’s mine. All fucking mine.”
“Yes—yes—it’s yours!” she gasps, her voice cracking as you drive deeper, harder, her words trembling with each thrust. “God—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”
Her legs tremble beneath you, her body arching beautifully, giving you an even better angle as you slam into her. You pull her closer, her ass pressing firmly against your hips with each rough thrust. The way she takes you—so tight, so wet, so eager—fuels something primal inside you, pushing you to fuck her even harder.
“Listen to you,” you murmur, leaning forward slightly, your lips brushing against the damp skin of her shoulder. “Screaming for me like you were made for this. Like you were made for me.”
“Fuck—yes—I was—I fucking was,” she babbles, her voice barely coherent as her nails dig into the sheets.
Your hand slides up her back, pressing her down just enough to make her arch even more. The new angle has you hitting deeper, and her response is immediate—a loud, desperate scream that sends a jolt of heat through your veins.
“That’s it,” you growl, your hand returning to her waist, gripping her like you never want to let go. “Tell me, baby, tell me you're my whore. I wanna hear you scream it.”
“Yours—fuck—oh God—I’m your whore!” she cries, her voice raw and filled with nothing but pleasure. Her body tightens around you, her walls clenching with every thrust as if she’s trying to pull you even deeper.
“That's it, baby, you’re mine,” you growl, your pace relentless as you slam into her over and over. “All fucking mine. Say it!”
“I’m yours—oh fuck—I’m yours!” she screams, her voice trembling as her hands clutch at the bed, her back arching beautifully. “God—you’re so fucking good—I’m so close—”
Her words send a wave of possessive need through you, chasing her pleasure as if it’s your own. The sound of her moans, her cries, her desperate gasps—it’s all too much and not enough, spurring you on like nothing else ever has, every thrust sending shockwaves through Chaewon’s trembling body as the bed creaks beneath you both. Her cries fill the room, loud and desperate, and the way she moans your name like a mantra only makes you go harder, deeper, until the sound of your hips slamming into her drowns out everything else.
Then an idea strikes, and without warning, you grab her arms, pulling them back until you’ve got both of her wrists in your grip. The shift makes her back arch further, her ass pressing harder against your hips, and the change in angle has her screaming almost immediately.
“Fuck—oh my God!” she cries, her voice trembling as her head falls forward.
You lean over her, keeping her wrists pinned as you growl into her ear, “You’re so fucking good like this, Chaewon. Letting me use you. Letting me make you mine.”
“Y-yes,” she gasps, her voice breaking as she shudders beneath you. “I’m yours—God, I’m yours—”
Your grip tightens on her wrists as you fuck her harder, her body jerking forward with each thrust. Her submission is intoxicating, the way she gives herself to you completely, her moans turning into needy, desperate whimpers that make your cock throb inside her.
“Look at you,” you growl, your voice low and filled with possessiveness. “So fucking slutty for me. Taking me so well. You love this, don’t you?”
“Yes—yes—fuck—” she babbles, her words slurring together as her walls tighten around you. “I love it, baby—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”
Her legs tremble beneath her, her body quivering with every rough thrust as you pound into her without mercy.
“You’re perfect,” you mutter, your hand releasing one of her wrists to grab her hair, pulling her head back so you can see her flushed, tear-streaked face. “So fucking perfect, Chaewon. My good girl. My little slut.”
She whimpers at your words, her lips trembling as she looks back at you with lust-glazed eyes. “Yours—I’m yours—I’ll be whatever you want—just don’t stop—please—”
Her submission sends a surge of heat through you, and you tighten your grip on her hair, your other hand still holding her remaining wrist as you thrust into her harder, faster, your cock hitting deeper with each movement.
“Fuck—you’re so good—so fucking good,” you growl, your voice rough as you watch her completely fall apart beneath you. Her body is yours, her moans and cries yours, and the way she clenches around you, wet and tight and perfect, makes it clear she wouldn’t want it any other way.
Your pace doesn’t falter as you release your hand from the grip on Chaewon's hair to move to her ass, her smooth skin practically glowing in the dim light. The sight of her beneath you—arched, trembling, taking every rough thrust—is enough to make your heart race with possessive pride.
Without warning, you bring your hand down hard against her cheek. The slap rings out loud and sharp, the sound almost deafening over the wet, obscene rhythm of your fucking.
“Ah—fuck!” Chaewon screams, her back arching further as her body jolts from the impact.
You grin, your palm tingling as you rub the spot where you struck, feeling the heat blooming under your touch. “You like that?” you growl, your voice low and teasing.
“Yes—fuck—yes!” she cries, her voice trembling. “Do it again—please—”
Her begging ignites something feral inside you, and you don’t make her wait. You bring your hand down again, harder this time, the sound even louder as it echoes through the room. Her ass jiggles from the force, the skin already turning a faint pink.
“Fuck, Chaewon,” you growl, gripping her waist tighter as you keep pounding into her. “You look so fucking good like this. Screaming for me, begging me to spank you. Such a good little slut.”
“Y-yes—God—please—more,” she babbles, her voice breaking into desperate gasps as her hands clutch the sheets beneath her.
You oblige, spanking her again, harder, the sting vibrating up your arm as her moans grow louder. Her ass reddens under your hand, the marks spreading with each slap, and the way she writhes beneath you, pushing her hips back for more, only makes you lose yourself further.
“Look at you,” you murmur, alternating between rough spanks and squeezing her reddened cheeks. “So fucking perfect. You love being punished, don’t you? Love being my little plaything.”
“Fuck—yes—I love it—” she gasps, her voice high and strained. “Please—don’t stop—don’t stop—”
Her pussy clenches tighter around your cock, her slick heat dripping down your length as you keep pounding into her.
“I'm gonna ruin you every fucking day from now on,” you growl, your voice thick with possessiveness. “This is what you’ve been craving, isn’t it, Chaewon? To be my dirty little whore, used and fucked exactly how I want.”
“Y-yes!” she cries, her voice cracking as her body shakes beneath you. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you to own me—since the first moment I saw you!”
Her words send a wave of heat through you, and you spank her again, your handprint glowing red on her perfect skin. She moans louder, her cries turning into broken whimpers as her body quivers with pleasure and pain.
You lean forward, pressing your chest against Chaewon’s back as your weight settles on top of her. The new position forces you even deeper inside her, and the moan that rips from her throat is nothing short of desperate. Her ass is still red and warm under your hips, and you grab her waist tightly, holding her in place as you grind into her, your cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her.
“Fuck—oh my God—” she cries, her fingers clawing at the sheets as her head tilts back, pressing against your shoulder. “You’re so fucking deep—I can’t—I can’t take it—”
“Yes, you can,” you growl against her neck, your voice rough as your lips trail along her flushed skin. “You’re made for this, Chaewon. Made to take me. You feel that? How perfect you are for me?”
Her response is a strangled moan, her legs trembling beneath you as you thrust into her harder, deeper, the wet sound of her pussy clenching around your cock mixing with her breathless gasps. Your hands slide up her body, gripping her shoulders as your mouth latches onto her neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave marks.
“Mine,” you murmur against her skin, your teeth grazing her ear. “You’re mine, Chaewon. No one else gets to have you like this. No one else gets to see you like this.”
“Yes—yes—I’m yours!” she gasps, her voice trembling with lust and something more. “You’re mine, too—fuck—you’re all mine—don’t forget it—”
Her words spur you on, your hips slamming against hers as you fuck her harder, your cock driving into her soaked pussy with relentless intensity. She’s writhing beneath you now, her hands reaching back to grab at your thighs, trying to pull you even closer.
“You’re so fucking good for me,” you growl, your lips still pressed to her neck. “So perfect, baby. Letting me fuck you like this...”
“Don’t stop—fuck—don’t stop,” she cries, her voice breaking into a series of gasps and moans. “You’re so—so fucking good—I can’t—I’m gonna lose it—”
You pull her closer, your chest flush against her back, your hands sliding up to tangle in her hair as you kiss her neck, her jaw, her shoulder. “You drive me crazy, Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice thick with need. “No one else—fuck—no one else makes me feel like this.”
She whimpers, her body arching against yours, her nails digging into your thighs as her pussy clenches tighter around you. “This fucking cock belongs to me,” she mutters, her voice low and fierce even through the haze of pleasure. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to fuck you like this. Just me.”
“Just you,” you agree, your lips brushing against her ear as you thrust into her harder, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. “Only you, Chaewon… Only you.”
Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her possessiveness fueling your own as you fuck her with everything you have, your mouth never leaving her skin, marking her as yours.
You feel Chaewon tighten around your cock, her walls clenching rhythmically, as her breath hitches and her body trembles beneath you. Her voice rises into a desperate, shaky moan.
“Oh my God—fuck—you’re—you’re gonna—” she stammers, her words barely coherent as her legs tremble and her hands grip the sheets. “You’re gonna make me cum—oh, fuck—”
Her warning lights a fire in you. You plant your hands on the bed for leverage, lifting your chest off her back as you start pounding into her with renewed intensity. Chaewon’s body is fully pressed into the mattress, her moans loud and uncontrollable with every thrust.
“You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?” you growl, slamming into her harder, faster, your cock driving deep into her soaked pussy with every stroke. “Come on, baby, let go for me. I want to feel you cum.”
Chaewon lets out a strangled cry, her words spilling out in broken fragments. “I’m—I’m gonna—fuck—it’s so—oh my God—it’s too much—”
You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you pull her back onto your cock, treating her like a perfect, desperate fucktoy. The obscene sound of your thrusts fills the room—wet, loud, and relentless—and it’s all too much.
Her voice climbs higher, her moans turning into desperate screams as she writhes beneath you, her body completely at your mercy. “I’m—I’m cumming—I’m cumming—oh, fuck—fuck—fuck—”
Her orgasm crashes over her like a wave, her entire body tensing as she lets out a guttural scream. Her pussy clamps down on you, tight and pulsing, soaking your cock with a flood of wetness. The sheets beneath her are drenched as her release gushes out, her legs trembling uncontrollably.
Chaewon’s cries turn into babbling, her words slurred and disconnected as her head thrashes against the pillow. “Oh—God—I can’t—fuck—it’s too—so good—fuck—you’re—”
You don’t stop, driving her through the peak of her orgasm, your hips slamming against her as she quivers beneath you, her body shaking with aftershocks. Her nails claw at the sheets, her thighs trembling violently as her moans dissolve into breathless whimpers.
Finally, you slow your movements, your hands sliding up to soothe her hips as her body collapses fully onto the bed. Chaewon’s breathing is ragged, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath, her face flushed and glowing with the aftermath of her release.
You feel the heat building fast, your cock throbbing inside Chaewon’s soaked pussy as her walls pulse around you. The slick, tight heat of her drives you closer to the edge, and you know you’re seconds away. Your thrusts grow erratic, your breath ragged, and you groan deeply.
“Chaewon,” you manage, your voice strained. “I’m gonna cum—where do you want it?”
She’s still panting beneath you, her body trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. Her hair is a messy halo around her flushed face, and her eyes, half-lidded and lust-filled, meet yours. “All over me,” she breathes, her voice husky and demanding. “I want it all over my body.”
Her words send a jolt through you, and you pull out of her slowly, groaning at the wet drag as her pussy reluctantly lets you go. “Lie back,” you tell her, your voice low and rough.
She obeys immediately, shifting onto her back and spreading her legs, her body sprawled out for you. Her skin glows in the soft light, flushed and glistening with sweat, her chest rising and falling as she stares up at you.
You kneel between her legs, your cock slick with her juices, throbbing and aching for release. Wrapping your hand around your length, you start stroking yourself, the wet sound of your movements mixing with the heavy breathing between you.
The head of your cock brushes against her entrance as you jerk off, rubbing against her folds, teasing her clit as you use her heat to drive yourself further. She gasps softly at the contact, her hands gripping the sheets as her hips shift slightly, her body instinctively chasing the friction.
“Fuck,” you mutter, your eyes locked on her. “You’re so fucking perfect, Chaewon. Look at you—messy, panting—so fucking gorgeous.”
She smirks faintly, her voice still breathless as she murmurs, “It’s all for you. I’m all for you.”
Her words fuel your need, and you stroke yourself faster, the tightness in your abdomen coiling as you feel the orgasm building. Chaewon notices, her gaze dropping to your cock, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“Come on,” she whispers, her voice low and possessive. “Cum for me. Cover me with it. I want all of it—all of you.”
Her dirty encouragement pushes you to the brink, and your strokes grow faster, harder, the head of your cock pressing against her entrance with every movement. “Fuck, Chaewon—” you groan, your voice breaking as the tension snaps.
The first spurt of cum shoots out hot and thick, landing just below her breasts, painting her flushed skin. Another follows, splattering across her abdomen, her pelvis, dripping down toward her pussy. You keep stroking, the pleasure overwhelming as you empty yourself onto her, every spurt marking her as yours.
Chaewon moans softly, her hands sliding up her body, spreading the sticky heat of your cum over her skin. Her eyes gleam as she looks up at you, her voice low and sultry. “That’s it—so good—so fucking good. Your cum is so warm, damn....”
You shudder at her words, your hand slowing as the last few drops spill from your cock, dripping onto her already glistening skin. Panting, you lean back slightly, your cock still throbs, the sensitivity almost unbearable, yet there’s more—your balls feel heavy, not yet spent. Chaewon lies beneath you, her body painted with streaks of your cum, her fingers lazily tracing through the mess on her skin as she gazes up at you with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"That can’t be all you’ve got," she teases, her voice soft but dripping with hunger. She trails a hand down to her stomach, scooping some of your cum onto her fingers before bringing it to her lips, sucking them clean. "I know there’s more in there. I want every drop, every fucking bit. I’m your cumslut—give it to me."
Groaning, you grip your cock, still hard and slick from your first release. "You greedy fucking slut," you mutter, your voice strained, raw. "You’re not satisfied until I empty myself completely, are you?"
"Never," she breathes, spreading her legs wider, her body arching slightly as if inviting you back inside. "Cum for me again. Paint me. Use me however you want—just don’t stop."
You shift between her thighs, lining up your cock with her swollen, soaked entrance. Even with your sensitivity, the sight of her, her body glistening with sweat and cum, drives you forward. You push into her, groaning as her tight, slick heat engulfs you again, every nerve ending screaming in overstimulation.
"Fuck—this is so good," you growl, gripping her hips hard as you start moving. The wet slap of your thrusts fills the air, mingling with her cries of pleasure as you pump into her with a slow, deliberate rhythm, determined to coax every last drop from yourself.
Chaewon clings to you, her nails dragging down your back, her breathless voice pleading. "Yes—more—fuck me harder. I want it all, every fucking drop!"
Her words fuel you, your pace quickening despite the overwhelming sensitivity. Your cock twitches inside her, the ache in your balls intensifying as you edge closer again. You pull her legs higher, changing the angle to drive deeper, her cries turning into high-pitched whimpers as her pussy clamps down around you, desperate and needy.
"Chaewon," you groan, your voice breaking. "I’m close—fuck—you’re gonna take everything."
"Yes, yes, please!" she begs, her hands roaming her cum-covered body, spreading it across her breasts, her stomach, even up to her neck. "Fill me with cum—own me!"
The sight of her—her fingers rubbing your cum into her skin, her lips parted in pure ecstasy—is too much. You pull out suddenly, climbing up her body until your cock is level with her face. “Open your mouth,” you command, your voice rough and trembling.
She obeys immediately, her lips parting as she looks up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. Her tongue flicks out slightly, teasing, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.
You stroke yourself quickly, your cock slick and throbbing, the tension building impossibly fast. “Fuck—Chaewon—I’m gonna—”
Your words cut off as you cum, the first thick spurt landing directly on her tongue. She moans softly, her eyes fluttering closed as more of your release fills her mouth, hot and heavy.
Each spurt is stronger than the last, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Your body trembles, your groans filling the room as you spill everything into her waiting mouth.
When it finally subsides, you watch as Chaewon looks up at you, her tongue still out, showing you the thick pool of cum resting there. Her lips curl into a mischievous, naughty smile before she closes her mouth and swallows it all in one go, the motion deliberate and slow.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your chest heaving as you watch her.
She grins, her tongue darting out to lick her lips before leaning forward. “Missed a spot,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.
Her lips wrap around the head of your cock, soft and warm as she sucks lightly, her tongue swirling to clean the remnants of your release. Even with the sensitivity, it feels incredible, and you groan softly, your fingers brushing against her cheek.
When she finally pulls back, she looks up at you with that same naughty smile, her lips glistening. “All clean,” she says, her tone playful.
"Goddamn, you're such a slut," you mutter, your body trembling, utterly spent but unable to tear your eyes away from her.
She grins. “I told you—I’m your cumslut.”
languidly you sit up on the edge of the bed, still catching your breath, your body slick with sweat and the aftermath of everything you’ve just done. Chaewon lies sprawled out on the bed, hair messy and sticking to her face, her chest still rising and falling.
“Fuck,” you say, running a hand through your damp hair. “That was… pretty intense, huh?”
She snorts, throwing an arm over her eyes as she stretches, the movement casual but still impossibly sexy. “You’re calling it intense? My ass is still burning from all those slaps, thanks to you.”
You glance over at her, a flicker of guilt crossing your face. “Shit. Uh, sorry about that…”
She pulls her arm down to glare at you, but her lips twitch with a smirk. “Don’t apologize. I liked it.”
Your mouth opens, then closes. “Oh. Uh. Good?”
“Great, actually,” she says, laughing softly as she shifts onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. “But now I need to ask. Was this all part of some master plan?”
You frown, confused. “Plan? What plan?”
She gestures between you. “This. You acting like a sad, helpless puppy so I’d feel sorry for you and bring you here. Then, bam—you flip the script, fuck me senseless, and prove you’re not as pathetic as you looked at work.”
You stare at her for a beat, then burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Come on, Chaewon. You really think I’m that calculated?”
She raises an eyebrow. “You tell me.”
“Trust me,” you say, still laughing, “if you hadn’t dragged me out of the office, I’d be at home right now. Sad. Lonely. Probably halfway through a tub of ice cream and binge-watching Breaking Bad for the third time.”
Chaewon snickers, clearly enjoying the mental image. “Ice cream and Walter White. God, you are hopeless.”
“Exactly,” you reply, grinning. “So no, this wasn’t planned. But… I’m not complaining about how it turned out.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, me neither.”
A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment before she sits up slightly, glancing at the nightstand. “What time is it?”
You lean over, squinting at the alarm clock. “Almost ten-thirty.”
She groans, falling back onto the pillows. “No wonder I’m starving. We didn’t eat shit at the bar.”
Your stomach growls loudly, and you laugh. “Yeah, same here.”
Chaewon looks over at you, her hair falling into her eyes as she smirks. “Pizza?”
“Pizza,” you agree immediately.
She scoots over to the other side of the bed, grabs the pants off the floor, and pulls her phone out of the pocket, scrolling through her delivery app. “What do you want on it?”
You shrug, lying back down beside her. “I’m not picky. Whatever you want.”
“Dangerous words,” she teases, glancing at you. “I could order anchovies and pineapple, and you’d have to deal with it.”
You mock gasp. “You wouldn’t.”
She grins, nudging your shoulder. “Relax. I’ll pick something safe. Pepperoni and sausage okay?”
“Perfect,” you say, watching her as she places the order.
As the confirmation screen pops up, she sets her phone down and looks at you, her eyes still holding that familiar mischievous glint. “You better have enough energy left to help me eat it, because I’m not carrying your dead weight through another round tonight.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Fair enough. Let’s refuel, then we’ll see who’s carrying who.”
Her smirk widens. “You’re on, puppy.”
Without warning, Chaewon approaches and settles onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, her body warm and soft against you. The heat of her skin pressed to yours grounding you in a way that feels almost surreal. Her arms loop loosely around your neck, and her face is closer than you expected, her dark eyes searching yours with a softness that contrasts her usual sharpness.
“So,” she begins, her voice quiet but laced with a teasing edge. “How are we gonna handle this… thing now?”
You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “This thing?”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice in it. “Don’t play dumb. Us. This.” She gestures vaguely between your naked bodies.
“Right,” you say, your hands sliding up her sides to rest on her waist. “I guess… we should figure that out.”
She smirks, leaning in slightly, her nose brushing against yours. “You’re not going back to pretending this didn’t happen, are you?”
“Not a chance,” you reply quickly, your tone firm. “How could I, after… everything?”
Chaewon’s smirk softens into a small, genuine smile, and she tilts her head, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle watching you mope around the office pretending this didn’t mean something.”
“It means something,” you say quietly, your thumbs brushing against her waist. “I just… didn’t know it meant something to you too.”
She looks away for a second, her cheeks turning pink, but then she sighs and meets your gaze again. “It always did,” she admits, her voice softer now. “I’ve liked you for a long time. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way—or if you were too busy chasing every girl who wasn’t me to notice.”
You wince slightly. “Ouch.”
“I’m just saying,” she teases, though there’s a hint of truth in her tone. “You always seemed to go for the ones who didn’t care about you. Meanwhile, I…” She trails off, biting her lip. “I noticed you.”
Your chest tightens at her words, and you reach up to cup her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin. “When?”
Her lips curve into a faint smile, her eyes flicking to the side as if she’s remembering something. “There were moments,” she says after a pause. “Like the time you stayed late to help me with that awful report, even though you didn’t have to. Or the time you lent me your jacket after I spilled coffee all over myself, even though it was freezing outside and you looked like an idiot walking around in just your shirt.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I remember that. I thought you were going to yell at me for being too nice.”
“I almost did,” she admits with a grin. “But then I realized… I didn’t want you to stop.”
Her words settle between you, heavy and meaningful, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then Chaewon leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that feels more like a promise than anything else.
When she pulls back, her eyes are brighter, her expression teasing again. “Anyway, you’re stuck here all weekend, remember? I think we’ve got plenty of time to figure this out.”
You grin, your hands sliding down to rest on her hips. “You’re right. And for the record, I’m not complaining.”
“Good,” she murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. This one is deeper, slower, her fingers tangling in your hair as your hands tighten on her waist, pulling her closer.
The kiss breaks only when she laughs softly, her forehead resting against yours. “This feels… nice,” she says, her voice quiet.
“Yeah,” you agree, your thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “It does.”
The two of you stay like that for a while, exchanging kisses and soft touches, the weight of the moment settling into something warm and intimate.
It’s simple, and yet it feels like everything.
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izuizzy · 4 months ago
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they’re also on instagram reposting a lot of art from @/miijiu (idk if they wanna be pinged) and they just recently posted art of talia that I have never posted on ig on there…. It’s so disrespectful.
@/malak2008627 is there handle on ig
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^^^WARNING^^^
Don't interact with this person, they're notorious for stealing and reposting art of sonic OCs, Nymph included. They've been doing this for years and just now made a tumblr then tried to interact with me here. PLEASE BLOCK!!!!!
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reasonsforhope · 4 months ago
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"Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear banned the use of “conversion therapy” on minors in Kentucky on Wednesday, calling his executive order a necessary step to protect children from a widely discredited practice that tries to change a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity through counseling.
The governor used his executive powers after Republicans who control the state legislature repeatedly blocked efforts to enact a state law banning the practice. Beshear said he would no longer wait for others to “do what’s right.”
“My faith teaches me that all children are children of God,” Beshear said during the signing ceremony at the Kentucky Capitol. “And where practices are endangering and even harming those children, we must act. The practice of so-called ‘conversion therapy’ hurts our children.”
It was the latest action in a national debate over conversion therapy and the rights of LGBTQ+ children and their families.
The Kentucky event stirred many emotions. Activists for mental health and LGBTQ+ rights cheered the governor, but as he prepared to sign the ban, someone nearby shouted, “This is a denial of affirmation therapy!” Supporters drowned out the protest.
Among those in attendance was Zach Meiners, a 34-year-old filmmaker who said he wants young people to be spared the anguish and harm he endured during four years of therapy as a teenager, which caused him “anxiety and depression in ways that I’m still unraveling.”
“I can speak firsthand to how devastating it can be to someone’s mental health,” Meiners said in an interview. “And I consider myself very lucky to be a survivor.” ...
Nearly half the states and the District of Columbia prohibit conversion therapy on minors, Beshear’s office said. In Kentucky, 21% of LGBTQ young people reported being threatened with or subjected to conversion therapy, according to the Trevor Project, a suicide prevention and crisis intervention organization for LGBTQ+ young people."
-via AP News, September 18, 2024
--
Note: That last paragraph puts in perspective for me just how far we've come, even amongst all the hate. Fifteen years ago, not a single state banned conversion therapy for minors. Ten years ago, only two states banned conversion therapy. As of this law, 24 states now ban conversion therapy for minors, plus DC, with another three having some restrictions on the process.
I remember how amazed and relieved I was, when my state (California) became the second state ever to ban conversion therapy for minor in 2012. Now those protections apply to almost half of the states, and probably well over half the US population (I'm too tired to do the math but blue states tend to have significantly more people.)
They can't close the barn doors on this. It's too late. We're already out the door, and our rights are breaking out alongside us more and more every year.
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rebornrosess · 2 years ago
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has anyone else been getting an obscene amount of bot followings in the last few days? i'm not even exaggerating when i say i've had to block and report over 300 of them in the last week alone. i've been getting nearly 50 a day pls help it’s starting to feel legitimately hopeless. ))):
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reidrum · 6 months ago
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i cannot stop thinking about reader giving jesus hair spencer a blowjob, and him using the hair tie he keeps on his wrist to put her hair up
hair tie | s.r
a/n: hey so this made me insane. also i wrote this really fast if it seems rushed that’s why. may we all be manhandled by jesus reid in the near future amen
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, blowjob, softdom!spence lowkey, reader has hair long enough to be tied up, can be read as gn!reader but lmk if i missed something!
wc: 888
——————————————————————————
spencer’s long hair was definitely a choice. he grew it out to his shoulders purely because he couldn’t make it to a barber, and simply because he didn’t really care. it did become a hassle when he’d be hunched over his desk finishing reports and strands of hair would fall forward and obstruct his eyesight.
he found that he would waste so much time when he paused to push his hair behind his ears (two minutes and thirty seconds slower, he counted). he’d come home to you and complain wondering how all women dealt with the long hair if it just always flew in front of them. how did you get anything done?
then one day when spencer came home from work, you had a small surprise for him. a pack of 100 black hairties.
“so you can just put your hair up in a little pony or man bun and keep working!” you’d exclaimed.
he was so endeared by the gesture, he rarely ever tied his hair up but he never left the house without a hair tie on his wrist. he liked having the option if he needed it, plus it always reminded him of you when he saw it.
the few times he’s used it are during intense heat waves in dc, when he’s dealing with toxic chemicals and such, and when he’s with you.
when he goes down on you, his hair would never stay in place. and it irked him to have to remove his fingers from you in order to fix it. you found it so hot though. he was deathly hot, but he really didn’t understand what it did to you when he was on his knees tying his hair up for you.
until it happened to him, of course.
he had come home from work, tired from the day at the office. you led him to the couch and told him to sit and relax while you took care of him. he spreads his legs open and leans back onto the couch, his arms fanning outwards to rest on the ledge, “you’re too good to me, baby.”
you were down on him, moving your head and back and forth on his length. you traced the underside vein with your tongue, getting as much as you could down your throat. the sight of you dribbling spit all over his cock sent him into another orbit. it was messy, lewd, and outright fucking hot.
but that hair of yours kept falling down your cheeks and blocked the beautiful view of him fucking your mouth. he rakes his hands through your hair, but as much as he could hold it on his own, your ministrations were too good for him to keep a good grip on it.
in a haste move, he removes his hands and you look up at him in confusion at the loss of contact. you watch intently as he rolls the hair tie off his sleeve, the one that you got him, and watch him tie your hair up in a haphazard ponytail.
jesus fucking christ.
you whimper at the gesture, overwhelmed by the feeling of him tying your hair up. he feels you falter for a second, before you raise both hands to the remaining of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth and hollow your cheeks out.
“fuck, angel, that’s so good—oh my god,” he mewls, “you like it when i tie your hair up? like when i—shit— use my own hair tie on you?”
you moan around his cock, sending vibrations throughout his body which he responded with a long groan, “bet you didn’t think this is what i’d use the hair ties for huh?”
he stares down at your face, tears streaming down both sides as you keep him in your mouth, as he twirls the ponytail in his big hand and tugs.
“baby, oh my god, fuck i’m gonna come.” he lets out, and soon he releases himself into your mouth as you swallow every last drop. you pull your mouth off his cock, leaning your cheek on his inner thigh as you stare up at him trying to catch your breath.
“holy shit.” you breathe out.
he laughs, “holy shit is right,” he strokes your hair gently, “was it actually hot when i tied your hair up?”
you look at him incredulously, “are you joking? the fact that i bought it for you to use, that you keep it on your wrist all the time, and that you used it on me when i was sucking you off, i could outcompete the sun right now.”
he pulls you off your knees to sit on his lap on the couch, “i’ll make note of that, my love,” he softly kisses you. cuddling further into his chest, you both end up falling asleep on the couch tangled all up in each other.
later down the line, spencer realizes that those cheap black hair ties aren’t all that great. they break easily and he finds it pulled out his hair, and probably your hair, a lot.
to solve this, spencer buys a pack of baby pink scrunchies that he keeps on his wrist at all times. he read somewhere they’re easier on the scalp. morgan makes fun of him for it, and while spencer rarely uses the scrunchies for himself, looking at the pink on his wrist always made his cock twitch a little no matter where he was.
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fluentmoviequoter · 10 months ago
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Yelling at Cops
Part 2 of Flirting with Cops
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader
Summary: After you are injured, your fiancé Tim yells at you and treats you like a boot. When Wade and Nyla find out, they tell him what really happened.
Warnings: canon typical danger and action, explosion, r is injured and goes to the hospital, yelling/arguments, fluff, teasing
Word Count: 1.7k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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“Bradford,” Nyla whispers from the other side of the shop. “Tell me this-“
“Do I have to?” you ask.
“Yes, because I am your TO. I’m, like, a goddess in this shop. I have the power to-“
“Have me fired or make me a rookie forever,” you finish with a chuckle. “I know, ma’am.”
“Tell me this,” Nyla begins again. “Does Bradford call you boot?”
“No.”
“Never? Not even when he gets upset?”
“He hasn’t gotten super upset with me yet. Raised his voice once because I almost got hurt, but nothing serious. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did at some point, though.”
“7-Adam-19, there’s a reported 215 and 245 at Olympic and Burnside Avenue,” control alerts.
“7-Adam-19, show us responding,” Nyla radios.
“Carjacking and assault with a deadly weapon?”
“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Nyla jokes.
As you approach the intersection, you see a man with a large automatic rifle ducking behind a car. There are civilians on the other side of the road and an injured man on the driver’s side of the car.
“Control, 7-Adam-19 requesting backup. One armed, one injured,” Nyla informs. “Block this lane.”
You pull around with your side of the shop toward the gunman. The car is facing you, so he can’t escape unless it’s on foot. Nyla opens her door and slides out before staying low to go around the back of the shop. You watch the man beside you, and when he turns quickly, you lower your window and pull your gun from your holster. He has a different weapon when he twists toward you, and when he aims it toward the back tire, you know he’s going to hurt Nyla. You don’t think before acting, not like you should, at least.
You throw the door open and begin firing as you move back toward Nyla. She yells at you to get down, but you turn toward her instead.
“Run!” you yell.
As you run behind Nyla, trying to get away from the shop, the man shoots the new weapon, and the shop explodes behind you. You fall to the asphalt, and Nyla stumbles ahead of you. Ignoring the pain in your leg, you push yourself up and rush behind a parked car. Nyla’s eyes widen when she sees you, and she pushes up to look through the windows of the car to locate the man.
“Control, this is Harper. Where’s my backup?” she yells into the radio.
“ETA two minutes,” control responds.
“What do we do?” you ask. “He’ll run.”
“You don’t do anything,” Nyla snaps. “Control, send a R/A to my location.”
“Harper, he’s moving again,” you say.
“Not your concern,” she replies.
You look toward her, and she’s looking between your leg and the car across the street. What’s left of the shop is aflame in the middle of Olympic Boulevard, blocking part of the man’s location from view. When Nyla turns toward you, you finally look at your leg. Your pants are darkened with blood, and when you bend your knee, you hiss in pain.
“Don’t move,” Nyla demands.
You don’t listen and gently push your fingers against the side of your thigh. “It’s just a bunch of glass.”
“Shrapnel in your body is not just anything!”
“Harper, we have to do something or he’s going to hurt the other people.”
Nyla exhales deeply before nodding. “Bradford is going to kill me,” she murmurs.
“He’ll come for me first,” you say with a small smile.
“Alright. You go around the shop and I’ll come up from behind. If you have a shot, take it.”
As you limp around the far side of the intersection, you raise your weapon and look for the shooter. Nyla’s gun fires before you see him, and you rush out to cover her. When the man sees you, he drops the rifle in his hands and raises them.
“Nice work,” Nyla tells you. “Now sit down and wait for your ambulance.”
On cue, the ambulance pulls up and two paramedics rush to your side.
“I’ll alert Sergeant Bradford,” someone says.
“No!” you and Harper yell together.
“This is related to his case,” the officer argues.
Wade slams the door of his car and cuts off the rest of his sentence. “I’ll fill in Bradford,” he states. “You, though,” he says to you, “have a lot more to explain.”
“You’re going to tell him?” you ask him.
“Would you rather he find out over the radio?”
You shake your head, and the paramedics move your gurney into the ambulance.
“I’ll try to calm him down, but… good luck, kid. I’ll be by in a few.”
“Thank you. You too, Harper.”
“You saved my life. Sorry I yelled at you,” she offers.
✯✯✯✯✯
You’ve just been moved to a private room after a painful hour of having shrapnel removed from your leg when Tim’s voice echoes through the hallways. He yells your name before his footsteps near your room. When he stops at the door, his chest is heaving, and his nostrils are flared.
“Are you out of your mind?” Tim demands loudly. “Harper should have you fired for that little stunt. I would! You are not here to be a hero, boot, and endangering lives – including yours – is not what being a cop is about!”
“Sergeant Bradford,” Wade says from behind Tim. “A word?”
“With me?” Tim asks. “Why don’t you remind the rookie in here about a little thing called procedure!”
“Tim,” Wade interjects. “Hallway. Now.”
Your eyes drop to your hands as they leave. Tim has never yelled at you like this before, and his insults and threats to have you fired do little to calm your nerves. Harper seemed mad when she first noticed your injury, but that was nothing compared to Tim’s reaction. You wait nervously for Tim, or at least Wade, to return from the hallway.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim begins to speak, but Wade raises a hand. He takes a deep breath to calm down before explaining everything he knows to Tim.
“I-“ Tim begins.
“No!” Wade says. “You don’t get to make an excuse about not knowing. You have known from the beginning, I told you from the beginning. When you came to me and said you were dating a rookie, I made an exception for you on one condition. I told you that if anything happened to her, it was on you. Not because you’re her superior, but because she is yours. This situation is unique, but you led me to believe you could handle it. Now, I’ll be honest, I did that hoping you’d back out and decide to wait to start a relationship, but once I saw the two of you together, my concerns became about what would happen if the two of you were separated by something or injured. That speech I just heard makes me think you’re just here as a cop. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll listen.”
“Why us?” Tim asks angrily. “Why are we worth the special treatment and personal attention?”
Somewhere along the way, Wade became like a father figure to you. When he agreed to let Tim continue seeing you without alerting IA, he threatened to demote, fire, or kill him if he did anything to jeopardize your career, life, or relationship.
“Because I care, Bradford. Is that so hard to believe? And right now, I’m wondering if you should go back to patrol or find a new station?”
“You can’t fire me for hurting her delicate little feelings, Wade!”
“And how would your feelings be if you were going to her funeral?” Wade snaps. Tim’s face drops and Wade adds, “Harper just filed her official statement. Their backup was two minutes away, and she would have been dead if your rookie hadn’t stepped in. They would both be dead, and I don’t know about you, but I think some glass shards to the leg is a whole lot better than a funeral.”
Tim’s eyes drop as he nods. “I messed up.”
“You did. Now do something about it.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You look up immediately when the door opens. Tim walks in first, but Wade is close behind him.
“I’m sorry,” Tim begins. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you or threatened to have you fired, especially when I didn’t know as much as I thought I did. Are you okay?”
You nod, but Wade jumps in before you can say anything.
“I’m sorry, too. I went behind your back to keep Tim in line, or so I thought, from the very beginning. I should have been open with both of you, but I’ll do better now.”
“I forgive you,” you whisper, looking at Tim. You turn toward Wade to add, “And thank you for whatever it is you’ve done already.”
Wade nods and smiles before stepping back toward the door. Tim goes in the opposite direction and stops beside your bed.
“You’re really okay?” he asks as he takes your hand.
“Just sore. And I have to buy new pants.”
Tim sighs and pulls you into a hug, bending over to pull you close. You smile against him and rub his back. He’s tenser than you are, and he wasn’t even blown up.
You know that your relationship with Tim will never be easy, but it will always be worth the time and effort. Plus, your friends understand what you are going through and are there for you every step of the way.
“Visitor,” Wade alerts.
Tim steps back as Nyla walks in with a bag of your favorite snacks. Despite her original tough act, she does like you as a cop and as a friend.
“I heard someone yelled at you,” she says with a quick look toward Tim.
“He apologized. Didn’t bring me snacks though. Thank you!” you reply.
“He better keep apologizing,” Nyla adds, talking directly to Tim.
“I will,” he promises. “Glad you’re both okay.”
“Wait, does this mean I can’t help with the Metro case that I almost died for?” you interject.
“Not for a while,” Tim answers. “Gotta heal, first.”
“What was it you said? ‘Just some glass’, then walk it off,” Nyla says with a shrug.
“I wanted to ride with TO Bradford, the scariest in station history.”
You pout, and Tim shakes his head while Nyla laughs. Wade thinks about you and Tim riding together and wonders if you’d manage to get anything done.
“One cop is more than enough in my relationship,” Wade sighs. “I don’t know how you two do it.”
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lucyandalexiafan · 1 year ago
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blow off steam | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 1
summary: since Alexia got injured two weeks ago, it's obviously that she needs to blow off steam; so, after the umpteenth attempt by her to have your attention, you ask her to take control, to completely dominate you.
Warnings: dom!Alexia, sub!reader, kneel at Alexia's feet, Alexia' fingers that fuck reader's mouth while reader in kneeling in front of her, humping shoe, face slaps (three times), humiliations, degradations, use of pet names / slut, light jelaous!Alexia, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
words: 3131
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
Nb: English is not my first language and I’m not sure if it’s “blow off steam” or “blow of some steam”. I searched online but I didn’t understood, so I’m sorry if it’s wrong the way that I used
I turn off the TV interrupting the program that Ale is watching, the umpteenth trashy program.
Since she was injured two weeks ago, she has become unbearable.
She doesn't come to the field during training hours anymore, she doesn't go out, she doesn't cook, and she doesn't do anything other than be on the phone and watch stupid programs on any TV channel or streaming platform.
It doesn't bother me that she behaves like this or, at least, I understand her, I try to understand her; so I do everything for both of us without protesting, without emphasizing how to take care of the house, shopping all the different type of food required by our diets, cooking different dishes for me and her every lunch and dinner (due to the variation of her diet), do not combine well with the study for my master's degree, with the research I am doing, and with my training with the team.
I don't protest, I don't snort, I don't say anything. 
I accept any comment about how overcooked the chicken is, about the fact that the bread had to be soft wheat and not whole wheat, about how messy the kitchen is.
I didn't even comment on the fact that she delegated the care of her dog to me alone, even though she can walk.
I accepted to study all night and write those essays at unreasonable hours, risking not completing my homework or showing up not prepared enough for meetings with university tutors, as well as showing up for training tired, exhausted and with less and less energy.
But today... today it's too much.
I had started studying in the kitchen, on the counter, because I had started cooking dinner and lunch for tomorrow; Ale was watching television. She knows, she knows, how much I hate having too much noise around, how much the overstimulation is a problem for me because of my ADHD, how much I go into crisis when there is too much chaos around me, no longer being able to concentrate and control myself, always ending up looking around, trying to figure out where all the voices are coming from and, when there are too many, ending up on the verge of tears.
She knows it.
But, despite this, she had started using TikTok at maximum volume at the same time as the television, creating an annoying chaos that could not even be masked by the music that passed through my headphones.
I had asked her to turn down the volume several times, I had even texted her asking her to stop because I had to study, telling her that it was important that I end that essay within three days, before the last game before the Christmas holidays.
After half an hour of trying I couldn't take it anymore, I got up, took the remote control and turned off the television.
"What are you doing?" she asks irritated.
The sharp voice.
I bite my lip.
We haven't had sex in two weeks and I haven't had an orgasm for three, and seeing her so angry floods my belly with sharps of pleasure.
Ever since we had started experimenting with sex, since Ale had started to be dominant in bed and I had started to feel free enough and trust her enough to be completely submissive, we had established 'rules'; one of the ones we started experimenting with first was about orgasms. 
No orgasms that aren't given by her or that she doesn't allow me to have.
It had not only increased libido and feeling in bed, but also communication. Since we had established this rule, we had begun to talk much more about sex, to describe how we felt and to provoke ourselves; I had begun to no longer feel embarrassed to express my sex urge or tell her what I needed. 
Begging her for what I needed.
So, after exactly three weeks since my last orgasm, I'm extremely needy.
Ale, at the same time, is extremely angry, disappointed, and resentful, about the injury and I know, I'm sure, that she would like to blow off steam on me, on my body, but she is afraid to ask for it, to do it. She's afraid because she's never done it before, because she's always afraid of hurting me and because she knows what I've been through in the past.
So now, because she doesn't want to express this need, she is short-tempered, rude, arrogant.
I kneel on the ground, in front of her, my legs slightly apart.
I look into her eyes.
She swallows the saliva, the phone still in her hand, as she jams her eyes into mine.
"I would like you to take control – I say, my voice trembling with embarrassment – I need you to blow off steam on me and I need to be dominated, to let you be in control"
I bite my lip.
The fear that he will refuse, that she will say no, that she will think I am crazy, increases when she does not respond immediately.
"You don't know what you're asking for, little girl" 
The low voice, the seraphic tone.
"I want you to take control Reina, I want you to punish me, I want you to use my body"
She lay her phone on the couch.
"You don't have to do it for me, i-"
"I want it, Ale, I need it as much as you do" I whisper, pleading, looking into her eyes.
Nails playing with a little skin on my index finger.
She nods.
"Are there any things you don't want me to use or do?" the tone is the one she uses on the field when she's the team captain.
That confident tone, which admits no reply.
"No, Reina"
I touch her right calf with one hand, the need for physical contact advancing in me; I play with her skin, just massage her.
She grins, looking at me.
She looks at me, her face slightly tilted.
She bites her lip, as if pondering my request.
"Now I'm going to make you a list of items or practices and you have to tell me with safewords which ones are green, which ones are yellow, and which ones are red, okay? – I nod – What are your safewords?"
"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, red to stop"
"Good girl - I twitch my thighs, a knot in my belly, as her hand brushes my cheek, a satisfied look as she looks down on me – then let's get started"
After a few minutes, I had established green orgasm denial, spanking with hands and belt, the use of the collar with the leash, the use of ropes or more generally in bondage, penetrative sex with both fingers and dildos, the use of plugs and strap-ons, degradation; yellow overstimulation and preventing me from speaking by putting objects in my mouth; red blindfold. However, I asked her if she could use pet names from time to time to reassure me, so the degradation and humiliation were not the only channels of communication during a scene we were experiencing for the first time.
I clasp my hands on my thighs, my belly invaded by contractions of pleasure.
"Have you had any orgasms since the last time I got you one?" the tone is so low that it gives me goosebumps.
"No, Reina" I hurry to answer; a marked blush colors my cheeks and neck because no matter how much we talked about sex, how much we started experimenting in bed more than a year ago, I will never stop being embarrassed when we talk about these things.
She grinns with satisfaction.
"Something as needy as you hasn't had an orgasm in three weeks, hm? – she asks as she strokes my cheek with her thumb, a fake smile of pity adorns her face – Does your need to be a good girl, to please me, also beat your need of an orgasm?"
I look down immediately, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
How can she make me so submissive, so needy, with just one question?
The panties are soaked, I feel them being uncomfortably attached to my intimacy.
"Yes, Reina, I just want to please you"
She moans openly at my answer and I see the muscles in her legs twitch.
I close my eyes to the sound.
"I don't think I told you that you can not look me in the eye"
I look at her, eyes slightly wider, position more rigid as I try to hold her gaze.
"I'm sorry Reina," I whisper guiltily.
We haven't even started and I'm already breaking the rules?
She looks at me for a moment and then her gaze, that sadistic, excited look, softens; a sweet, loving smile replaces the grin that had begun to adorn her face since she began to list what she could and couldn't do tonight.
"Amor, this is the last chance I'll give you to stop everything before we start, before I start punishing you and then take you to the bedroom, where only the safewords will make me stop – the suddenly cautious, sweet tone, like it's never been in the last two weeks – I'm not going to get angry, resentful or irritated if you tell me you don't want to go on anymore or that you're not sure anymore, baby, but I want you to tell me before you start because I don't want to start without being sure that you want it as much as I do; we will cuddle and maybe watching a film, order some takeaway food"
Her hand on my cheek, the back of my index and middle fingers caressing my skin.
I look at her, every fear gone, every tension leaves my body. 
She is always her, the sweet, caring, loving girlfriend who would never hurt me or continue something I don't want. 
No matter how much she needs to blow off steam, she would never hurt me.
I shake my head.
"I... I want to do it Reina, but-but only if you want it completely too" I answer, my voice trembling with embarrassment, but my gaze fixed on hers.
She smiles.
Her beautiful smile.
"I love it when you call me Reina, I'll never stop saying it" she whispers as she runs her thumb over my bottom lip, as she frees it from the grip of my teeth.
I open my lips allowing her to stick it past my teeth, into my mouth; she pushes it all in, until she hits my chin with her palm. I lick it slowly as I look straight into her eyes.
After a while she replaces it with her index and middle fingers, pushing them into my mouth slowly, and then she starts to move them, as if to fuck my mouth.
I go along with it, licking her fingers, opening and closing my lips against her skin. 
She groans looking at me.
"So submissive, at my feet, while you call me Reina – she pushes her fingers harder into my mouth, until she touches my chin with her palm again, and touching the back of my throat, gagging me – My dirty filthy slut"
I gasp.
I place my hands on her knees, as if looking for a support to hold on to while she fucks my mouth with her fingers.
She sneers.
I look at her from below, her lips slightly open twisted into a grin, her eyes veiled by sadism, her cheeks flushed, her tongue occasionally caressing her lips, her brow furrowed, the hair of her forelock escaping the grip behind her ears.
"Hands behind your back, I don't think I told you you can touch me" 
I groan in surprise as I hurry to do what she says, squeezing one hand into the other until my nails are in my palm.
The tips of her fingers touch the back of my throat with each thrust, and with every moan I make, she grins; She tells me to breathe through the nose when she realizes that, due to gagging, I struggle to breathe through my mouth.
She continues like this for some time that seems like minutes, she fucks my mouth with her fingers, her gaze alternating between my eyes and my mouth, a sadistic grin, until she takes them off completely.
I moan, finally free to breathe through my mouth.
She wipes the fingers against my cheeks, the back on one cheek, the inside on the other; the trickle of saliva that still connects them to my lips.
She puts her hand on my right cheek and I know what's going to happen.
"Disobedient little girl – the first slap is light against my skin, more for the scene than for anything else – Twice you disobey my orders and I didn't even touch you"
I gasp looking at her, her lips still slightly parted.
Then, as she walked away, her hand hits my cheek.
We both moan at the same time, her greasing and lowest, mine louder.
No matter how much I expected it, it's getting more and more exciting every time.
"Color, little girl?" she asks, an attentive look on my face trying to understand what I think about the slap.
"Green... green Reina" I moan.
"Dirty little," she whispers as she caresses my face, "So needy just because I fucked your mouth, hm?" she asks, as she runs her fingers over my lips, but without pushing them any further.
"Yes-yes Reina," I say cautiously in response.
Then, suddenly, she moves one leg between mine until I feel her foot, covered by her favorite and most expensive pair of shoes, in contact with my intimacy.
"Hump my shoe, slut" 
It's an order said as she leans back on the couch. She opens her arms, resting them on the headboard of the sofa.
I wade at her, my eyes wide open with the request, but my pupils probably dilated with excitement. I'm incredulous.
"Color, little girl?" she asks when, after a few seconds, I don't move, her voice warm, lovely.
"G-green Reina – I whisper hesitantly, realizing the time that has passed, realizing that by doing so I was disobeying – I'm sorry"
She moves her torso toward me, her hand grabbing a hand of my hair. "Do you want to add a third punishment to the two you've already earned, hm? – I answer with a faint no, Reina – Then, move" she continues, her tone suddenly more authoritative and dominant, no longer disguised as feigned pity, her back coming back into contact with the sofa.
I bite my lip and moan when I feel her shoe move slightly against my clit.
"C-can I put my hands on your leg Reina?" I ask, my voice faint, the need to touch her, for physical contact.
"Aw, little girl, can't you even keep your balance? Okay, grab my leg. You can lean against it however you want," the mocking tone.
My hands grab her calf.
My torso is against her shin as I slowly begin to move.
I'm wearing thin shorts and panties made of almost non-existent fabric, so with every movement I feel the relief of the shoelaces against my clit.
I moan, I whine, unashamed.
I squeeze her leg as I rest my head on the lower part of her inner thigh, just above the knee, breaking eye contact. 
As soon as the tip of her shoe starts to move against me, putting pressure on my hole, I start moving faster and faster; I'm not sensual, I'm not pretty bent over her, my back arched out, my head down.
"Dirty little slut," she says while her hand scratches my scalp "How does it feel to hump against a so expensive shoe that I've been looking for months in any shop in Barcelona, to be so slutty that you seek satisfaction and pleasure by rubbing yourself on a shoe without shame?"
I whine in humiliation.
"Please Reina, can I... can I-"
Her hand clenches in my hair, forcing me to look at her.
"Don't even try. This is just the beginning – she hits my cheek again – Did you think it would be so easy after disobeying me?"
I bite my lip, looking at her with the most puppy look I'm capable of; my vision slightly clouded by excitement and tears.
I open my mouth a couple of times, attempting to speak, but no sound other than a moan comes out.
When she notices that I am not responding, she stops moving her foot. "Color?"
"Green" I answer immediately, as I continue to move on her shoe, hoping that she will move again.
The shoelaces against my clit.
The contractions of pleasure in the lower abdomen.
She grinns as she looks at me.
She reaches down to kiss me, her hand still in my hair.
Then, as it all began, she moves the shoe away from my intimacy.
"How do you feel, hm? What would people say if they could see you like this, at my feet, desperate after humped my shoe like a slut, hmm? What would our teammates say if they saw you like that? – she grins, the hand that makes pat pat on my head – How do you think Aitana and Ona would react, mh?"
I close my eyes.
"None of them will be able to make you feel like that, reduce you like that, like I do. Not even Lucia. It doesn't matter how hard they try"
"Please, please," I whisper as I tighten my fingers around her knee.
The humiliation becomes pleasure, contractions of pleasure stronger and stronger, when she starts talking about the team, about my friends, about Lucy.
Of her jealousy of Lucy, caused by the fact that we are so close friends and that she is also dominant in bed; the eldest is openly dominant in bed, while Ale is much more modest in making her sexual performances public to the team. Modesty for which I am grateful, but which makes her feel clearly in competition with the English player.
"Please what, little one?"
Cheeks that burn when I hear the pet name.
Her fingers forcing my chin to look at her.
Her blonde hair is tousled.
"Touch me, please Reina... I-I need to-"
Humiliation breaks through my legs, which I immediately clench.
To be at her feet, to call her Reina, to be so desperate.
"I just want you, Reina... I... on-only you. No one else," she moans, "I beg you."
"Get up, go to our room and strip. I want you on the bed, on hands and knees. In less than ten minutes I'll be there."
581 notes · View notes
coco-loco-nut · 9 months ago
Text
We Can’t Be Friends
Pairing: George Russel x Reader
Summary: George’s girlfriend, a former child actor, is not well liked by the public
TW: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, implied child exploitation
A/n: going off of the more popular interpretation of the song (ari vs the public)
requests open!🫶 masterlist
———————
You just finished filming a short interview in a docuseries with some of your former colleagues, those who fell into the same trap and downfall as you did. You prefer not to air everything out, but you knew your statement would support the others.
The industry basically forced you into a drug and alcohol addiction, one that you thankfully beat, but you went from someone who was once loved to someone hated, just from how the media spun your name.
You met George at a hospital event -you now work as a biochemist and bioengineer- and he immediately recognized his childhood crush. You dated for a year before feeling strong enough to go public, but ever since he posted a very cute picture of you, the hate has started again.
“I’ll make a statement asking them to leave you alone,” George offers but you shake your head no. He hates seeing you upset, but both of you didn’t expect the backlash on you.
“They won’t understand, they could never even try. They will never know what it was like to grow up like that, even the docuseries won’t help,” you start to dismiss the thought.
“We can’t do nothing,” he tries to reason, wanting to protect you.
“I don’t want to tiptoe around the public, but I don’t want to hide, either way I’m feeding this fire,” you groan, running your hand through your hair as you pace the room. You had to call off of work today, the entrance to your townhome being blocked by paparazzi.
“The story is gonna die, and we’ll be alright,” George stands up and pulls you into a hug. In your mind you picture the public liking you again, waiting for their love again.
A few days later, George drags you out of the house for lunch, you had only been leaving for work. The two of you step out, a reporter immediately coming up to you. You ignore the first few, sitting in your silence.
“It’s just me and you, Baby girl,” George whispers to you, supporting you however you choose to respond.
“Y/n, is it true that you have been in and out of rehab for the past year? You are in and out of hospitals,” one reporter, who always hounds you, asks causing you to whirl around. You don’t want to argue, but you don’t want to bite, so you choose a confusing answer.
“You’ve got me misunderstood, but at least I look this good,” you smirk, watching their face scrunch in confusion, gripping their paper and pen, before continuing your walk.
The next day a clip of one of your short interviews drops, taken while you were in college, as a trailer for the docuseries release the following week.
~-~-~-
I don’t like how this industry painted me, but I’m still here hanging, just not what they made me. It’s almost like a daydream sometimes, finally leaving that world. I feel so seen, I am everything that I defined myself as, not all that the industry made me be. My truth and I may always sit in silence, but one day I hope I am brave enough to say it out loud. For now, it’s only me on the road after recovery, but maybe that’s all I need.
~-~-~-
buzzfeed.com/uk
A list of every child actor we need to apologize to after watching “Drugged: The Truth Behind the Lives of Child Actors”
1. Y/n Y/l/n
~-~-~-
“Are you sure you want to go out there?” George asks, looking at the crowds of journalists. You nod, tired of being silent and waiting for things to be better, not caring about feeding the fire anymore.
“Let’s go,” you release a shaky breath, stepping out behind your boyfriend as he walks you to work.
“Y/n! Anything to comment regarding the documentary that’s been released and the allegations made by your former colleagues?” A journalist asks, the rest hoarding, pens at the ready.
“Actually, I do. You owe us an apology. Villainizing children who needed someone like you to expose how awful our working conditions were, that’s sick and cruel. You wrote lies about us, and instead of apologizing, you want to ask us for statements and exploit our names more? You’re sick. We can’t be friends,” you chem them out before continuing on your way to work. A part of you will always wait for their love, but you are tired of waiting for them to like you.
“You’re a badass. I hope they will see you are the biochemist and bioengineer, not the child actor. You’ve come so far and I’m so proud,” George says once your breathing steadies from the adrenaline.
“Thank you, Georgie,” a small part of you wants to flip them off behind you, just like you would’ve done ten years ago, but you don’t, finally moving forward.
343 notes · View notes
gavisuntiedboot · 5 months ago
Text
We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)
Pedri x Stylist! Reader
Part 2
Tumblr media
Warnings: None
Word count: 4.3K
A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.
~~~
Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.
“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.
“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”
“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.
“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing.  I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”
You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.
“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”
The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.
You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.
“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.
The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”
The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.
The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.
It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.
~
"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."
There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.
"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.
"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.
"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"
Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.
In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.
Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.
The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.
His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.
"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."
"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?
He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-
“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.
“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.
“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”
Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.
“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.
“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”
Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.
“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”
He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.
“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”
He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.
~
“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.
“We went out, we fucked-“
“Pedri!”
He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.
“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”
“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"
Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.
"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"
Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.
"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."
"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."
"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.
"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"
Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.
“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.
“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”
For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.
"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"
~
"Naranja, the bastard is here."
You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.
Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.
"Good morning, Naranja."
God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.
"Let me hear you, pretty girl."
And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.
"Good morning Pedro."
A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.
"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."
"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"
You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.
"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"
"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"
After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.
"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.
"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.
"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.
"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"
"That's not my name."
"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."
He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.
"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."
"Wait, what? Hold on-"
"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."
Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.
"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."
Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.
"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"
"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.
"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"
"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."
You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.
"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?
"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.
"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."
"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.
"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"
"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."
~
The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.
Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...
"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.
His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.
"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"
His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.
"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.
"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."
"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."
"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."
The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."
"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.
"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."
"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.
"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.
"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."
That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.
"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."
"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."
Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.
"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."
~~~
Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3
(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)
Taglist:
@girlidekanymore
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enhas-pov · 7 months ago
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serial killer
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summary: there’s a serial killer in town and reader is worried about her boyfriend, niki. he’s acting odd
warnings: murder, blood, yandere, forced kissing, obsessive love
word count: 1.8k
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it was a friday night, me and niki were sat on the couch watching a movie together. i was laying with my back against his chest whilst munching on some of my popcorn. “what happened?” the tv had suddenly switched from the movie we were watching to the news. “oops, sorry. i accidentally sat on the remote” i reached for it from under me and was about to switch back to the movie when the news caught my attention. “according to police reports, a new serial killer has been identified in our area. the killer has been linked to three murders in the past week. authorities describe the killer as a tall figure often dressed in black. the police are urging residents to report any suspicious activity immediately and we will continue to bring you updates. in the meantime, we want to remind you all to secure your homes and look out for one another. that’s all for now, stay safe” i was in absolute shock. a new serial killer in town? while i was trying to process these news, i felt niki’s hand stroking my arm. “niki.. i’m scared” i turned to look at him and he didn’t look scared at all, it looked like this wasn’t a shock to him. “there’s nothing to be scared of, ___. i’m here, okay? i’ll protect you. i always will” he pulled me in closer and placed a kiss on my forehead. it made me feel less scared and a lot more safer, i knew that i would always be safe with him.
“niki! we’ve run out of conditioner-“ i walked out the bathroom while drying my hair with a towel when i noticed niki putting his shoes on. “i’ll get some on my way back home” he opened the door and was about to leave before i slammed it shut which made him jump. “you mean to tell me that you’re going out, right now? at night? when there’s a serial killer out there? do you have a death wish, niki?” i refuse to let him leave, i don’t want a dead boyfriend. “baby come on. i’m just gonna meet up with jungwon, that’s it. i’ll be safe, i promise” he didn’t seem to be worried or anything, it was kinda odd. “but what about me? what if the killer breaks in and kills me, hm?” i crossed my arms while i was stood in front of him blocking the door. “that won’t happen” he sounded so sure about it too. “and how do you know that?” without giving me an answer, he placed his hands on my waist and lifted me up like it was nothing. he moved me away from the door so he could make his way out. “because i do. i’ll be back soon, i love you” he gave me a quick kiss on the lips before he left, closing the door behind him. i’m definitely not getting any sleep before he gets back. if he gets back..
i was sat on the couch watching tangled to try and make me feel less scared. i guess it kinda worked, until the evil old lady showed up on the screen. i let out a big sigh and my mind went to niki. was he okay? it’s only been an hour, and he did text me twice letting me know he was okay. i should stop overthinking, niki is fine- “i’m back!” i jumped up from the couch the second i heard his voice. i ran towards him and threw my arms around his neck. “i thought you died..” i hid my face in his neck and was very grateful to the fact that he was alive. “i’m really tired, but i couldn’t sleep since i was worried sick about you” i pulled away so i could finally look him in the eyes. i noticed how his hair was messed up and so were his clothes. wait, is that blood on his shirt? “see, i told you nothing would happen to me or you-“ “niki.. what’s that?” i used my finger to point at the red spot on his shirt. “oh, that. i just spilled my drink” i’m not sure why, but a part of me didn’t believe him. i shrieked when he picked me up by placing his hands under my thighs. “let’s go to bed. you said you were tired, yeah?” he walked us over to our bedroom and placed me down onto the bed. i watched him pull his red stained shirt over his head and throw it in the laundry basket. “so, how’s jungwon?” he turned to me with a confused look on his face, like he had no idea what i was talking about. “what?” “you told me you were gonna meet up with jungwon, remember?” i could tell realization hit him, did he lie to me? “oh, right. i was confused for a second because of how tired i am. but he’s good” i slightly nodded, but if i’m gonna be honest niki is acting really weird. he got in bed next to me after turning all the lights off. i could feel him wrap his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
i woke up in the middle of the night with no sight of niki. i heard weird noises so i thought he was probably just getting himself water or using the bathroom, but he was taking too long. i stretched my arms before getting up to see what was taking him so long. “niki?” first i looked in the living room, then the kitchen and then the bathroom. where was he? i kept on hearing those noises, so i decided to follow them. suddenly, it stopped and i was stood in front of the door that lead down to the basement. i don’t usually go down there, why would i? out of curiosity and wanting to know where niki was, i slowly opened the door which made a creaking sound. “niki?” i repeated, no answer. as i made my way down the stairs i couldn’t see anything since it was pitch black, so i brought my phone out and used my flash light to look around. all i could see were cardboard boxes and just a bunch of junk we stored down here. i was about to go back up when i stepped in some kind of liquid, it was kinda thick and disgusting. when i flashed my phone down on my feet, my heart dropped when i realized what i stepped in was blood. even worse, fresh blood. “oh my god.. i’m gonna throw up..” i covered my mouth and started backing up when suddenly, i felt my back hit something making me jump. i quickly turned around and my blood went cold when i saw it was niki stood behind me. i was too scared to say anything, meanwhile he was just stood there looking down at me with a blank expression. the stairs were to my left, could i make a run for it? i counted down in my head.
3… 2… 1!
i quickly pushed niki to the side and made a run for it, but he clearly saw it coming. halfway up the stairs, i tripped when niki’s hand grabbed my ankle. i managed to kick his hand away making him groan in pain, “fuck!” it gave me enough time to get back up on my feet tho. when i had finally made it back up, i slammed the door shut behind me, but there was no lock on it. “shit..” get out of the house, that was my first thought. a few hours ago i’d be too scared to leave the house because of the serial killer, but i didn’t know that i was living with him and that he was my own boyfriend. i ran to the front door and jumped when i heard the door to the basement get slammed open. it made me stress and panic which is the reason to why i was struggling to open the door. “come on..!” i kept on twisting the door knob until i finally got it open. the second i stepped my foot outside, i got dragged back in by a strong muscular force and the door was slammed shut. knowing no one could hear me i still started screaming for help, but niki covered my mouth with his hand muffling the sound of my voice. he pushed me up against the wall and held me tightly since i kept on moving around. “shhh. be quiet” he started stroking my hair and leaned in closer to my face. “i’m not gonna hurt you, okay? i would never hurt you baby. i told you i’d always protect you” even though i now knew he was the one murdering people, he still made me feel safe with his words. i know that it’s wrong, he’s not a good person, but i can’t help it. i stopped moving around and screaming for help which resulted in him removing his hand from my mouth and loosening his grip on my body.
“why..?” he cocked his head at my question. “why?” he asked me. “why would you do that to those innocent people..?” i was full of mixed emotions. my eyes were teary, i had this lump in my throat and a pit in my stomach. “innocent? those people weren’t innocent” what? what does he mean by ‘they weren’t innocent’? “i don’t understand.. what did they do?” he placed his index finger on the center of my chest. “they all wanted you for themselves. i had to show them that it would result in bad consequences” did he.. murder people out of jealousy? i felt even worse, like i was about to pass out. “niki.. i can’t“ i pushed lightly at his chest but he didn’t dare to move. “please- get away from me.. i don’t feel so good” he still wouldn’t get out of my way, what was wrong with him? “it’s okay. i’ll make you feel good” “what?-“ i didn’t see it coming, but he smashed his lips onto mine and started kissing me relentlessly. i brought my hands up and started hitting his chest, signing him to get off of me. he didn’t seem to care tho. he just grabbed me by my waist and pulled me in closer to deepen the kiss. i felt him slide his tongue into my mouth, but the feeling of it was weird. he was making out with me whilst i was trying to resist him. he finally pulled away to catch his breath, and so did i. “do you feel better?” to my surprise, i did. the lump in my throat and the pit in my stomach had gone away once he kissed me, i just didn’t notice. he pressed his forehead against mine and looked into my eyes. “i won’t let anyone come near you, ever” the way he was acting, it wasn’t normal. but i couldn’t help but love him even more.
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scrimple · 1 year ago
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what’s the point in living if i will always feel this depressed and suicidal
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