#Question to ask a moving company

[vansandhands]

Guide on Moving House With Pets

Website: www.vansandhands.com

Moving homes with pets can be confusing and anxiety-inducing for pets. To ensure a smooth transition, it is essential to visit your current veterinarian, arrange a separate room or space for pets, and consider other options like hiring a pet sitter or booking a kennel or cattery. Ensure your pet is tethered securely in your vehicle and has all necessary vaccinations.

 Read Top Tips for Moving Homes with Pets in the UK, to learn more.

Take a stroll around your new neighborhood in the days leading up to the move to help them adjust to new situations. Let home moving services in London know about any pets moving with you upfront, especially if you are transporting exotic species like tropical fish, reptiles, or amphibians.

On D-day, use pheromone diffusers to help pets relax and avoid anxiety. Regularly check in with your pet, lock any doors and windows behind you, and provide them with clean water and toys to keep them occupied. Plan meals carefully, avoiding feeding your pets two hours before the move to prevent travel sickness.

To move homes with pets in the UK, it’s essential to stay at home for the first few days, update their details, be patient, and ensure each room is secure. Keep cats indoors for a week, and alert former neighbors about the move if they see them. If your pet exhibits signs of sadness or depression, seek expert assistance. Be gentle with your pet and don’t panic!

[queenlucythevaliant]

🪆

I would love a good dark poem.

--Rain on Main

Okay, this is maybe my favorite really bleak Russian poem. It's called "In the Bottomless Pit," but there's this tinge of hope in it that just makes the whole thing work so well. Anyway, I hope you appreciate:

In the Bottomless Pit In memory of Alexander Blok and Nikolay Gumilyov Day by day more brutal and more savage, deathly horror holds the night in thrall. Putrid winds extinguish lives like candles. No more strength to scream, to help, to call. Dark the destiny of Russian writers and inscrutable the roads they trod: Pushkin stood before a dueling pistol, Dostoevsky faced the firing squad. I shall draw my lot and know my fortune, bitter Russia, fierce infanticide. I may slip on blood outside the dungeon, or I may perish wretchedly inside; but your Golgotha I never will abandon, and your graves shall never be denied. Whether slain by hunger or by hatred-- I shall choose no other lot instead: if we die, then let us die together and arise like Lazarus from the dead.

--Maximilian Voloshin

[iamnotmereally]

"I wish I knew how to quit you" is exactly what it is. idk what it is but it is exactly what it is

[boyapologist]

oh my gawd it's bingo night

[hashtagloveloses]

so SAG-AFTRA finally released some official guidance for fans, viewers, creators/influencers, critics, and more during the strike. here's what you need to know:

if you see a publication/news source/journalist talking about a piece of struck work, that's ok. they're allowed to do that.

2. they're asking regular viewers and fans to DONATE TO STRIKE FUNDS, SHOW UP TO PICKETS IF YOU CAN, and please do NOT boycott streaming services or movies in theaters.

3. influencers, content creators, cosplayers, and anything in between is still a bit of a grey area, but they're asking people to use their best judgement. "organically" means UNPAID promo (like an invite to a premiere without being paid, being sent a publicity box, letting the company's social media post a photo of you in cosplay, etc).

obviously this doesn't answer every question, and isn't hard and fast rules for fanworks, but it can at least inform how you personally choose to move forward when posting online and moving publically. i hope this helps!

[neo-nomatrix]

CAN’T TOUCH ME LIKE GOJO

what gojo does when he’s jealous

cw - gojo uses red as a punishment, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, riding, teasing, kinda toxic gojo idk, bratty reader, rough gojo

Gojo was making you mad, beyond livid. He had brought you to this stuffy gala full of his balding colleagues and ditched you! You found solace in the bar holding an aperol spritz staring at your husband. He was beautifully dressed cream suit with a million dollar smile as he talks to his coworkers about business.

He hasn’t even thrown you a glance since he left your side. Normally you would still be next to him acting as arm candy but for whatever reason he left you to drink your sorrows. You assumed you would be stuck there for another hour or two with nothing to do. Until Hiromi Higuruma approached you. A man you had no idea was even distantly related to Gojos company.

“Mrs.Gojo, a pleasure seeing you somewhere besides with Satoru,” The man teases.

“Hiromi! Are you here to save me from this awful night?” It seems the lord has answered your prayers.

“You’re not enjoying yourself? Doesn’t Gojo normally keep by him at all times?” He asks, taking a seat next to you.

“Something’s up with him I guess, I’ve barely seen him all night and it’s horrible!” You complain.

“Oh sweetheart, how could he possibly treat someone as pretty as you like that?” He moves a piece of your hair out of your face and stares at you.

“I know! I mean he invited me here, and then has the audacity to leave me,” You pout to him.

“For the record, I would never treat you like that,” he smiles at you.

You look over at Gojo and he still isn’t looking in your direction. You decide to tease both the men a little more.

“Really? Do you promise ‘Romi?” You give him your best doe eyes and touch his bicep.

“On my life, sweetheart,” You both smile at each other.

In the corner of your eye you see a head of white hair coming toward you. Panic sets in but you can’t help but rub your legs together. You continue putting your hands on Higurumas chest to further instigate the situation.

“Babe, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Gojo pulls the back of your stool so you can’t touch Higuruma anymore and he wraps a large hand around your waist, “Higuruma, you’re also here.”

“I was just talking to your gorgeous wife Gojo. After you left her alone to talk to those gross executives,” Higuruma says.

Gojos jaw clenched and he squeezed your waist. His look of disgust apparent on his face.

“I think it’s about time my wife and I leave. Should I call you a cab Higuruma?” Gojo says.

“I’ll be alright,” Higuruma laughs.

Gojo pulls you away from the bar and quickly takes you away from the party. He ignores everyone asking where he’s going or trying to talk to him. Immediately as he reaches the car he opens and slams the door for you. He doesn’t speak a single word on the way home, despite your efforts to start conversation.

As you reach your home he’s immediately getting you through the door and up the stairs, he shoves you onto the bed as he removes his jacket. You hear him muttering swears under his breath.

“Do you enjoy being a slut who pisses me off? Hm? I mean really, what possibly do you get out of this?” He starts to undo the first few buttons of his shirt before he grabs your chin.

“I asked you a fucking question,” He growls at you.

“You left me! You left me all alone! I don’t know what you wanted from me, to just sit there twiddling my thumbs until you came back?” You argue at him, giving a big pout.

“What I don’t want is for you flirting with that piece of shit in front of everyone? You know how embarrassing that is, not only for me, but for you?!” He slips off his boxers to reveal his semi hard cock.

He pulls you up and puts you on your knees. He’s on his back and your face is inches away from his cock. But before you can wrap your lips around him something stops you. A force you can’t describe, red. He activated his repelling force to punish you.

You’re confused, upset, even angry at him. His usual punishment involves him overstimulating you but apparently not this time. You try to get past the barrier, using all your might to touch his cock. Yet nothing works, he’s the strongest after all.

“What did he call you?” He asks you, releasing red for you until you almost touch him, then activating it again.

“Sweetheart…” you whisper to him.

“And you fucking let him. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I know he can’t have you, fuck, he knows it. But it doesn’t seem like you do,” He says back, piercing blue eyes scanning your face.

You crawl on top of him, the barrier between your pussy and his cock still apparent. You try desperately to grind down on him to no avail. Tears start to form in your eyes but Gojo doesn’t seem to care.

“You want it inside you, sweetheart? Or do you want ‘Romi?” He mocks you.

“YOU! I just wanted your attention, promise! I got so mad you left me by myself. See?! All i want is you,” You whine as Gojo smiles at you.

In a moment the red hue turns blue and you get sucked down onto his perfectly aligned cock. You’re stuck to him like a magnet. His size makes you scream and want to pull away, but you can’t. As soon as you pull away you’re sucked back onto him, you thought torture wasn’t supposed to be addicting.

“Fuck Higuruma, fuck him and all the stupid guys there. You thought i wasn’t paying attention to you? I wanted you so fucking bad I had to stay away or else you’d be on the floor with my cock inside you,” He grunts, hands gripping your waist.

“Toru! It’s too much!” You’re full on sobbing at this point, legs shaking and body sweaty.

“You don’t want him right? It was just to make me mad, right baby?” He asks you desperately, his hair falling perfectly in front of his eyes.

“Yes! I just wanted you to fuck me, I swear,” You squeal.

His hips rut into your sloppy cunt as both of you moan and pant like two bunnies in heat. His fingers expertly tease your clit and he sucks blue and red hickies on every part of your body. He’s holding you as close as possible. His thrusts get sloppy and his moans get slutty.

“Gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill my pussy up everyone’s gonna fucking know you’re mine,” He says in your ear.

“I’m gonna-“ Before you can even finish your sentence you pulse around his cock cumming so hard you see black.

He follow not long after, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you. He gets as deep as possible to ensure nothing slips out. He releases the technique and you fall on top of his chest, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

“Holy shit baby, that was so good,” He says, smiling.

“Yeah… i wanna take a bath,” you look up at him.

“Okay my love, just promise me one thing. Never make me jealous again.”

[eau-duresistance]

My favourite things about the whole OceanGate disaster, in no particular order

That the vessel was originally named Cyclops II but the CEO renamed it to Titan, so it’s even BETTER than the Titanic

He also called it indestructible

The guy piloting the vessel is an ex-naval captain who has been on several titanic manned trips. But the guy is 77 rn

The billionaire from Pakistan is apparently friends with King Charles. You’d think for someone who’s besties with a guy whose job was literally being born, he’d care more about protecting his bloodline. Instead, he brought his 19 year old with him

Meanwhile, the stepson of one of the other billionaires (I think the British one named Hamish) went to a Blink 182 concert. When questioned about this, he basically went “my family would want me to go to the concert”. Today, minutes after posting about asking for thoughts and prayers, he @‘ed an OF model on Twitter, asking her to sit on his face

Bc it’s part of the safety demo & music track list for the trip, there is a VERY good chance that if there’s still some power left in the sub, it’s playing an instrumental of My Heart Will Go On on loop

Also, the vessel is a submersible bc it doesn’t meet literally any of the safety regulations to be called a submarine. Which the CEO knew, because he’s blatantly said that safety regulations get in the way of progress

The CEO once stated that he thought the future of humanity was not in space, but in the ocean when the surface becomes uninhabitable

Apparently the controller he’s using has REAL bad reviews because the connection always fails

These idiots paid $250k EACH but they had to pack their own lunch. Not even a damn charcuterie board

The pilot’s seat is on the toilet. So whenever someone needs to go, the pilot needs to move

There’s 1 window looking out. That’s it

It’s about the size of a minivan

The sub uses texts (but only to the CEO’s phone) to communicate, as well as StarLink, but they can only access that if they surface

The door literally cannot be opened from inside

There is a decent chance that at least 1 person has been cannibalized (my bet was the pilot since he’s not rich, but bc of the banging sounds, he’s probs not dead, so it may be the CEO)

They’re supposed to run out of oxygen tomorrow (22/06/23) at 7 am est, but tbh, the CO2 scrubber system will probs fail before that

The toilet is a plastic bag

This is only the 3rd time in 3 years the vessel has gone to the Titanic. Every other time, there’s an issue and they gotta turn back within like 4 hours

A lot of major news networks are trying to remain positive, but it’s a HILARIOUS comparison when you go to social media and every single person is like “yeah that shit is built like a cardboard boat, they’re fucked”

The company’s name is literally called OceanGate

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

keeping LOGAN HOWLETT company when you notice him having a bad day

implied fem!reader. grumpy x sunshine. fluff

idk when this is set, bc xmen timelines confuse the fuck out of me. and yeah sorry, another fic for him. I can’t stop with ideas, im like a freight train

It wasn’t always easy to deal with Logan when he was this way – his grumpy, closed-off self retreating into his once far more reserved ways. Sometimes after a bad day he’d shut himself off, only finding the comfort at the bottom of an empty whiskey bottle. 

He has to remember he has you now. He’s no longer alone.

He’s out on the porch, sitting on the steps, elbows on his knees with a crystal tumbler clasped in hand. It was starting to rain, the clouds spitting as if to add insult to injury – the weather mirroring his feelings. 

You wanted to give him time – give a moment for him to come to you. But as you see the rain fall harder, his exposed self sitting under a heavy patch of downpour, you grab your umbrella from its nook by the front door. 

You open the door slowly, trying not to startle him with the abrupt noise. 

“Hi,” you say, voice soft. “Can I keep you company?” you ask, hesitant footing keeping you in place.

He nods, moving the bottle from his side to between his booted feet – making space for you. He keeps his eyes ahead, looking out into the forest.

You sit beside him, holding the umbrella higher up to shield you both, scooting in closer when you notice parts of him left out under the covering. 

“Do uh—” you stall, turning to look at the side of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, speaking carefully as not push him away further. 

“Nothing much to say,” he murmurs, words quiet and distracted as he swirls the amber liquid in the glass – eyes focused as he watches its motion.

You pause and fiddle with the handle of the brolly, uncertain of what to say. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, but instead, it was the opposite. You were so comfortable that you didn’t want your keenness to act as a repellent. So you wait, trying to find the words he wants to hear. Not what you think he wants to hear. 

And then you realise, the reason it was so hard to find words, is because no words should even be said at all. Words often hold no meaning, but actions, they do. He doesn't want verbal comfort, but instead something physical, something silent and earnest. 

So you rest your head on his shoulder, leaning into him as if to voicelessly show your care – the act sweet and gentle. He raises his glass to take a sip only to pause, pulling it away as if he was questioning its use. His eyes focused on the small amount at the bottom like he was debating with himself.

But he decides against it, placing the tumbler aside – his now free hand finding itself reaching over your shoulders to pull you into him. He takes the umbrella from your hand, holding it as he shields you both from the rain – replacing your job as he thought it to be his.

And like him, your hand now empty, you find yourself reaching behind him – wrapping an arm around his back as if to further the comfort. You nuzzle your head into his burly shoulder, nestling against him as you both look out into the vast expanse of greyscale brown and green. 

“I’m here when you’re ready.”

[monstersflashlight]

Day 2. Monster-kinktober: Artificial intelligence + Handjobs/Temperature play

A/N: This is a prequel piece of this one that nobody asked for but I wanted to write. Also, I took handjob in the literal way, so we have fingering as handjob here. Enjoy!

Robot x fem!reader || dirty talk (kinda), fingering, temperature play, semi-public sex (technically)

When you started working in the factory, you were mesmerized by the robots. You were the only human in your floor and thought they would be more… mechanical. But they weren’t. They looked very much robot-like, but they were great at conversation. They were nice in a very human way, and that only made them even more appealing for you. They were interesting, and weird looking, and a bit androgynous in the best way possible. So nobody would blame you when you say you fell in love with one of them.

It all started in a slow Wednesday afternoon. You had a couple hours until the end of your shift but there wasn’t much to do, so you were just filling some paperwork and trying to look busy without being too obvious about the fact that you were only moving papers around. And then someone knocked on the door of your office. You thought it would be one of the humans of other floors, looking for something and being too stupid to ask the robots. Some humans didn’t like the fact that the company was mainly robot oriented.

But it wasn’t a human. It was your favorite robot looking as weird and mechanic as always, and making your pulse skip a beat as he showed his silver bald head. “Hi! What can I do for you?” You asked cheerfully.

“I have a question,” he said in his monotonous tone, eyes unblinking. At first it was unsettling that they didn’t blink, but you got used to it and now it was a bit exhilarating to be the focus of attention of a robot, they didn’t miss a single movement you did and that called to you in a weird way.

“Okay. What kind of question?” You questioned, looking at him in the most professional way you could muster, but probably failing because he was robotically hot. In a way that made your pussy a little bit wet every time you talked to him.

He didn’t wait more than two seconds before shooting at you: “Do humans like robots?”

“Wow, that’s a big question right there.” You thought about it for a few seconds, trying to organize your thoughts to explain human-supremacy groups to a robot. “Some humans like robots just fine, but other humans think they are inferior to humanity so they…”

He cut you. “No, no. I understand that, I mean if humans like like robots,” he clarified.

And for a moment you were speechless, was he really asking if human and robots could have some kind of romantic or sexual connection? Was that even a possibility? You’d thought about it (a lot), but you never knew robots could feel that way about humans, you weren’t even sure they felt. You knew artificial intelligence was great nowadays, but you weren’t sure and thought it would be rude to ask. Good luck they weren’t scared to ask anything and were always truthful.

“Oh. Oh. I don’t know… Yeah, I guess so. Why not?” You answered, trying to sound neutral about it.

He looked at you for a few more seconds before asking: “Do you like robots? Do you like me?” He caught you completely unprepared for that question.

“What?” You squealed.

“I like you.” You just discovered they could like humans, and your brain was trying to process a thousand little movements and interactions at the same time, trying to figure out if he meant what you thought he meant.

“What do you like about me?” You asked, still confused about what was happening. Was your robot crush really telling you he wanted to have his way with you, too? That wasn’t possible, was it?

“You treat me like an equal, and you are always nice to all robots. Also you look squeeze and I want to touch you.” You choked on a laugh at that part. “Do you like me?” He repeated.

You thought about it for half a second, thinking about the naughty fantasies you had all alone in your house. You thought about all the extra time you spent in his area just to chat with him for a bit. You did have a crush on him. “Yes,” you finally let out, a spark of hope inside your chest.

“Good,” he accepted, his head bobbing up and down in a very non-human way that made you want to smile. “Are you my girlfriend now?” He said, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you going to take me out first?” You joked.

He looked panicked for a second. “Yes. Yes. Human records said we need to go to dinner and to the movies. But I don’t eat, and I’m not allowed into cinemas. But we can skip that and do the fucking, that’s third date as the internet explained,” he deadpanned, making you choke on air and start coughing really hard.

“We can do what?” You choked out, eyes as big as plates as you looked at him.

“The fucking. The internet said human partners used their genitals together to get pleasure. I don’t have genitals, but I can create some,” he explained in his toneless voice, making it sound serious and ridiculous at the same time. He continued: “different shapes, different colors, they can attach. I have them on my desk. I’ll bring them. Wait here,” he ordered.

“Wait!” But he was already gone.

He came back a couple minutes late, carrying a big box full of various dicks of different colors, shapes and even textures. You were looking into the box trying to decipher when your life became so surreal and how did your boring Wednesday end up with a robot boyfriend and a box full of attachable dildos.

“We can try them now,” he announced, reaching to grab one when you stopped him.

“No! We are working.”

“But I want to touch you and I have no job right now. You don’t either. You’ve been moving papers around all day.” You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was aware of your every moment before he was talking again. “Let me touch you, please.” His voice sounded mechanical and had zero tone to it, but at the same time it sounded like a plea and you found yourself accepting with a soft “okay”.

He approached you and lowered his bald robot head until he was a couple centimeters away from your face, he stared without blinking until you looked away, red blush covering your cheeks. “I like that you can change colors,” he said, making you smile. “Can I see your tits? The internet said human women liked them played with.” His change of behaviour from cute to horny robot made you want to laugh maniacally.

“Some human women do, some don’t,” you explained.

“Do you? Do you like your boobs being played with?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a very puppy-like gesture that made your heart skip a beat. He was looking at your covered boobs like they held the answers to all his questions. He reached for your buttons and you didn’t stop him.

“Ye- yes,” you stuttered, suddenly nervous as he unbuttoned your shirt and stared at your lacy bra. He lowered it down, exposing your tits to the cold air of the office and making your body shiver.

“Why are they hard?” He asked at the same time he pinched one of your nipples with a bit too much force. You let out a gasp and he released it, just to do it again. You liked that he was playful, it was refreshing.

“It’s cold and they are sensitive,” you let out between heavy breaths.

“They turn hard when cold?” You nodded, and then cried out when his fingers suddenly became as cold as ice as he rubbed your nipples with them, making your back arch on your chair. “Oh. And what happens if it’s hot?” He asked as you felt his hands became scalding hot and you cried out again.

He did it a couple more times, pinching and rubbing and making you lose your mind with just his fingers. You were almost at the edge of a good orgasm when his hands traveled down, popping the button of your pants and rubbing your covered mound.

“The internet said this was the best place to give pleasure. Is that true?” He asked, his hand slipped lower, rubbing over your dripping center. You nodded frantically, grabbing onto the sides of the chair like your life depended on it. “It’s wet and soft,” he noted. You flushed redder, your face flaming hot as he explored the inside of your pants. He pushed your panties to the side and touched right over your aching pussy, making you cry out again, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Do you like that?” You nodded, your teeth biting down on your lips so hard you tasted blood.

He rubbed up and down your pussy for a while, not doing anything crazy, just two fingers collecting your wetness and exploring your most vulnerable place. He hummed every once in a while, looking at you unblinkingly as you squirmed on the seat. And then he found your clit, his fingers rubbing over it with such precision you saw starts and had to cover your mouth.

“I wonder what happens if I apply cold here,” he said out loud as you felt his fingers turning ice cold and your body shivered, more juices dripping from your pussy.

He turned his fingers scorching hot, rubbing your clit, and then cold when he rubbed them over your entrance. You were on edge, but he wasn’t even trying to get you off. You were desperate, wanting to do something, to come, but you wanted to let him explore you some more… It was exhilarating to have him pay such attention to you.

And then he surprised you pushing two fingers inside as he rubbed his thumb over your clit. The combination making your body jerk as he gave you the robot equivalent of a smirk, which looked like a weirdly creepy grin that made your pulse race and your pussy wetter. He crocked his fingers and found your G-spot, faster than any human ever had, and you screamed under your palm. He looked at you and did it again, rubbing your clit and sweet spot at the same time. Your orgasm was so close you could feel it at the tip of your consciousness, but he stopped then. Just for a few seconds, but enough to make you release your hold on the chair and grab his bald metallic head.

“Make me cum,” you pleaded.

He didn’t answer, he just grabbed one of your boobs with his free hand and started rubbing ice cold fingers over your nipple. At the same time the hand in your pants got hotter and hotter, almost too hot, but so, so good. He thrust inside of you a couple times, his thumb rubbing over your clit… and that was it. You screamed as your back arched and your body fell into the most intense orgasm of your life as he stared at your contorted face.

You were coming down from the high when he said: “I liked that. Next time we should try the dildos,” he stated, voice monotonous.

“Yeah… Whatever you want,” you told him, too tired to argue, and too excited to try.

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)

[robo-writing]

Logan with a virgin reader, expecting her to be this shy nervous little thing only to be met with a woman who’s spent too much of her life with only her imagination to keep her company. Suddenly he’s the one nervous because you’re so eager to fuck him and you’re begging him so nicely that it’s hard for him to remember you’ve never actually done this and he has to be responsible. You whine the entire time he’s stretching you out with his fingers, hands grabbing at him and pleading with him to replace his fingers with his cock and god damn it, you’re making it really fucking hard for him to focus.

You’re both bare, losing your clothes somewhere between the living room and the kitchen. The feeling of skin against skin drives you wild, makes you plead for the cock that’s throbbing against your thigh. You know he wants this just as bad as you do, you can feel how bad he wants this, but he settles for spreading you apart on his fingers.

You know you’re testing his patience but you don’t care; not when you grind against him, not when his cock glides against your bare pussy, not when he pins you to the bed as your back arches off it.

“Stop moving,” he begs, over and over. “Stop it, stop—stop fucking moving.”

You’re killing him; every time you look at him with those darling little doe eyes he can feel what little self-restraint he has left crumbling apart, every whine and moan and please Logan, gimme more testing his resolve.

“You need to stop,” he begs, head falling forward as your cunt wets his dick, sliding against his length but refusing to push forward and take you. You shake your head, pull him in for a kiss that’s anything but demure, lust pouring from your tongue as you lick at his mouth.

“Don’t wanna,” you gasp, pulling him closer by his shoulders. Between each kiss you see his control waning, feel his hands bruised your skin, taste the depravity between his teeth. Slowly but surely you see his mask slipping away, a beast in disguise of a man, one that desperately wants to claim you as his.

A sick part of you wants that; to submit yourself, bare your neck against its fangs and beg for more when its teeth pierce your skin. You want to give yourself to Logan—all of him, even the parts that he himself doesn’t want to show you. You want your first time to be just as enjoyable for him as it is for you—which is why you bring his hand to your stomach, to where his dick would leave an outline. You hold his hand firm as he stares with lust-blown eyes just imagining how full of him you’d be, in awe at just how willing you are to submit.

“I can handle it, you whimper, voice sweet like sin. “Fuck me, please.”

And like that, you’re no longer faced with your loving boyfriend. You’re now face to face with the Wolverine.

He pushes inside your velvet walls, still conscious enough to give you a moment to adjust. The feeling is new, full. Your voice wobbles when his thumb reaches down to circle your clit, just enough to get you to relax as he feeds your greedy pussy inch after inch.

“Y’gotta breathe for me baby,” he rasps into the side of your neck, releasing a breath you never knew you were holding. He rewards your obedience with more of his dick, slowly rocking against you as you start to adjust to the feeling.

“Feels good,” you whisper, stroking his hair. Your eyes are locked with his, lost in his pretty emerald eyes. “You can move.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. “Not sure I’ll be able to stop once I do.”

You know he’s telling the truth, it’s written all over his face. A need to possess you in body and soul, his eyes glued to where you’re both connected with a sickening fascination. You know the actual question he's asking, even if he can't bring himself to say it. Are you sure you want me? You realize he's just as vulnerable as you are, unsure of himself. It's a rarity that Logan ever talks about himself, always focused on you above all. You want to give him a break, want to make him feel as good as he makes you feel, want him to finally stop holding back and let go. So you kiss him, long and deep, and hope that gets the message across. His answer comes in the form of hands on your hips, the deep timbre of his voice radiating from his broad chest. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Beneath a Dragon's Gaze

Summary: With Madame Sylvi indisposed on the evening Prince Aemond comes to visit, he requests someone different | Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: sex work, smut, hair pulling, biting, titty sucking, darkish Aemond

A/N: saw ep 3 and felt silly 😁 not proofread an inch

“The Prince has asked for you.”

She could not help the wide-eyed look and the familiar flipping of her stomach, now feeling entirely different with the words that had come from her fellow woman’s lips. The Prince. Well, it could have meant either of them only weeks before, but no longer. They frequented this establishment quite often, as an upper-class brothel, with only the finest whores and service, it was only natural, and they had the coin to pay for it.

Suddenly, she felt quite cold in the sheer dress she had chosen that evening, doing very little to conceal the flesh that hid beneath, her nipples having formed peaks against the satin. What could she possibly say to that? There was no possibility of refusing. 

“Very well,” she responded, knowing it was not her place to question. There was no question as to which now, it was most certainly the very same who frequented for the warm embrace and soothing voice of Madame Sylvi, who spent hours in her company and paid her a hefty price for it. For secrecy. But she knew just as well that the only reason Aemond had requested her instead, was because on this night, his usual appointment was indisposed. 

Her heart raced as she slalomed through the scantily clad crowd, each step bringing her closer to the corner where the prince awaited. The halls were dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls, alongside those of curved figures, twisted with pleasure. She could hear the muted sounds of such from the other rooms, but they did little to quell the nervousness that gripped her.

When she reached the curtain, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The Prince. Aemond Targaryen. Known for his fierce demeanour and sharp intellect, he was not a man to be trifled with. Yet, beneath that cold exterior, she had heard whispers of a man burdened by the weight of his family.

Sliding the curtain across, met with the Prince, eyepatch already discarded and down only to his breeches, sat with cup in hand on the plush settee, his lone eye raising to her as she dipped for a curtsy. She felt her throat close at the sight of the sapphire, somewhat mirroring what was happening between her thighs.

"Madame Sylvi sends her apologies, my prince. She is unable to attend to you this evening."

Aemond's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny. "I did not call for Sylvi tonight," he said finally, his tone giving nothing away. "I called for you."

Her lips parted to question. But she dare not let the words free. She was not one to ask about his intentions, a mere whore.

“Undress.”

The Prince’s eye never wavered as he watched, flesh revealed as she bared herself to him. He stood as if uncurling himself, finishing what was left in his cup before moving his hands to unlace his breeches, his head gesturing to the settee.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

His commanding tone made those flutters awaken once more. She had been employed at this establishment for so long, of course being naked and bared to an abundance of men was second nature. But there was something about the way he wanted her, the way it seemed not spurred by desire of any kind, but a need, like air, that ignited her nerves that she had not felt since her first few days in this line of work.

Still, bare arsed and exposed to a Prince, was a different matter entirely.

She felt his presence behind her, knowing he was naked as his thighs brushed against hers. He nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, encouraging her to arch her back. Though she could not see his face, the rippled design of the copper in front of her reflected enough for her to sense the detachment in his actions. So, she remained silent.

Prince Aemond guided himself to her centre, barely wet, and pushed his cockhead inside. He had barely breached her when his hands gripped the flesh of her buttocks, watching intently as his cock slowly slid deeper into her cunt, being swallowed by her body. She closed her eyes, the lack of preparation making the act more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but she hoped that with time, her arousal would ease the discomfort.

As Prince Aemond continued to push himself inside her, she focused on her breathing, trying to relax her body and ease the discomfort. The room was silent except for their breaths, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. Each inch he gained felt like a stretch, a challenge to her body's readiness, but she bit her lip, determined to endure.

His hands, firm on her buttocks, began to knead her flesh, his grip alternating between gentle caresses and possessive squeezes. The friction built steadily, her body slowly acclimating to his presence. The initial pain started to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and the stirrings of pleasure.

Aemond moved with a deliberate pace, his thrusts measured and controlled. He seemed intent on watching every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside her, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could feel his intensity, the way he held back his own urges to maintain that slow, torturous rhythm.

Despite the initial discomfort, her arousal began to build. Her body responded to his movements, her inner walls slickening and accommodating his length with increasing ease. Soft moans escaped her lips, unbidden but honest, as pleasure began to mix with the remnants of pain.

Aemond's hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. Her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, seeking some anchor as the sensations intensified.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and edged with restraint. "Do you feel how you take me in?"

"Yes, my prince," she gasped, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "I feel it."

Aemond's pace quickened slightly, his control slipping as his own desire took precedence. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a rhythmic, primal music that spoke of need and release. Her moans grew louder, her body arching and pushing to meet his thrusts, seeking the pleasure that now consumed her.

With a sudden, possessive grip, Aemond's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His lips found her skin, teeth grazing lightly before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding with an involuntary clench around his cock.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her. "Take me, all of me," he whispered, his voice filled with approval and satisfaction. 

She surrendered to the sensations, her body melting into his as pleasure overwhelmed her. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word from Aemond drove her closer to the edge. The discomfort was a distant memory now, replaced by a wave of ecstasy that built with each passing second. His movements so erratic, his stones clapped against her womanhood with every harsh push, slapping against her bud in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

The sensation pushed her over the edge, her own climax washing over her in a powerful, all-consuming wave. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, Aemond drove himself to the hilt inside her once more, his body shuddering and then withdrawing quickly as he found his release and coated her buttocks and thighs with his pearly spend.

They stayed like that for a moment, both catching their breath, their bodies still joined. Slowly, Aemond released his grip on her hair and hips, his hands soothing over the marks he'd left. He pulled out of her velvety walls gently, leaving her feeling both spent and fulfilled.

She expected him to leave, to gather his clothes and slip away into the night, as most men often do with a flick of their coin into her lap. But instead, Aemond surprised her. He curled into her body, his head resting against her chest. His lips found her breast, mouthing at her skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their earlier encounter. His hand moved to her other breast, caressing it with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

She looked down at him, her fingers threading through his silver, moonlit hair. He seemed to take more pleasure in this simple intimacy than she did, as if seeking comfort rather than mere satisfaction. His eyes were closed, his breathing steadying as he continued to nuzzle her chest.

"I hate it," he murmured after a long silence, his voice muffled against her skin.

She blinked, unsure of his meaning. "Hate what, my prince?"

Aemond shifted slightly, his hand stilling on her breast. "Sometimes, I think Madame Sylvi just says anything to appease me. She tells me what she thinks I want to hear, not what she truly believes."

There was a bitterness in his tone that caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?" she asked softly, her thumb stroking the back of his neck.

Aemond's grip on her breast tightened slightly, and she felt a shiver of unease. His lips brushed against her nipple, then his teeth grazed it, sending a jolt through her body. "Because it's easier for her," he said, his voice lower, more dangerous. "Because I'm a prince, and she fears offending me."

She gasped softly at the sensation, the mix of pleasure and pain reminding her of the precarious balance between comfort and control. "But you deserve honesty, my prince," she managed to say, her voice trembling.

He bit down a little harder, enough to make her wince. "Do I?" he asked, his tone a warning. "Or do I deserve the truth, no matter how it feels?"

Her heart raced, the threat in his words unmistakable. "The truth, my prince," she whispered, trying to maintain her composure. "Always the truth."

Aemond's teeth released her nipple, his tongue soothing the sting. He looked up at her, his eye fierce and unyielding. The sapphire lodged in the other piercing and dark. 

"Good," he said, his voice a soft growl. "Because I have no patience for lies, no matter how pretty they are."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

[cherry-leclerc]

cherry cola ☆ op81

genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)

word count: 8.5k

After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style

inspired by this !

cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)

There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitation—it’s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment. 

Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. He’s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the season—his first win—but he doesn’t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone. 

Oscar’s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t see any of this coming. If he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldn’t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true. 

“How are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?”

The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. “She, um…we broke up, actually.” He’s never been a religious individual—has never even set foot inside a church—but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.

Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private couple—likely the most in the entire paddock—but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he would’ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. “Ah, I’m sorry, mate.”

The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. That’s life, no?”

Costa Rica—they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. He’s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers. 

Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but he’s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma. 

The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isn’t even enough to help him forget, even for a second. 

“Dinner is ready, honey,” Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. “There’s even pavlova—your favorite.”

He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver. 

“It’s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,” he warns with a deep voice. 

The twenty-three year old assumes it’s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. “Won’t happen again. I showered—”

“Where would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?” a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.” 

“In my own home?” he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesn’t even know why he said any of that—especially to a stranger. 

They introduce you two quickly, though you’re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. “I work for your parents, so…I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when you’re gone.”

He blinks. “You work here?” Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. “What could she possibly do?”

“Oscar,” Nicole scolds. “I thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.”

Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. “You know your mum, always looking for something new to do—”

“I wanted to grow a garden!” she squeals, delighted. “Like in all those magazines you get me for my birthday—oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I don’t know anything about gardening.”

“And this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.” Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. “She’s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.”

The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. “Get back from where?”

“Costa Rica!”

He gapes. “You’re using my tickets?”

Nicole winces. “Can’t let them go to waste, honey…”

His father butts in. “How is Lily by the way?”

The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. “How should I know? Come on, you guys can’t be serious.” The tickets weren’t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was.  He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. “Can you give us a minute?” 

“Yes, of course,” you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastri’s who smile fondly at your understanding. “I’ll be out in the garden.”

As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. “I guess I’m leaving too.”

“Don’t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastri—” He fumes. “Why not? You’re all going to be gone!”

“She won’t—you are keeping her company.” She’s not asking; she’s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. “She’s a sweet girl. She won’t be a bother—she’s just down the hallway.”

That’s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Fine.” He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. “Fine...”

-

The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. He’s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom. 

After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but it’s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water. 

“You’re up early.”

The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. “Yeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Oh.” You pout. “They left already?”

“You knew?”

“Yup. They mentioned it last night before bed.” A beat. “I hope me staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable…it’s just that they offered, and—”

“It’s not.” Lie. “Make yourself at home.”

Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterday—you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn it—but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swanky—boyish.

That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying what’s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy. 

He’s a man.

“What do you say?” 

“Sorry?” 

He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It wasn't his intention to try and get close to you—not purposefully, at least—but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.

Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. That’s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?” He burns up at you teasing tone.

“I didn’t want to risk burning the house down. We’re lucky I was able to get even this done.”

“Very well.” The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. “I’ll take care of it. It’s only fair, roomie.”

-

Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sisters’ Barbie’s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. It’s a nostalgic feeling.

The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he can’t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. “They’re beautiful.” He turns to you with a proud smile. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. “So…Costa Rica?”

He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. “T’was supposed to go with my girlf—my ex. My ex-girlfriend.” 

You pout, sorrowfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to…I had no clue.” And it’s genuine. Guess his parents weren’t complete traitors. 

“Tell me—how long have you been working on fixing the garden?”

“Since last summer,” you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. “This is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.”

Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesn’t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. “Let me show you a few other things I’ve been working on.”

There’s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. “Since when do we have a cherry tree?”

You beam, orbs shining with excitement. “Since last summer!” you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. “Good?”

“Bloody amazing.” Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. “My mum is actually allergic to cherries, so how…”

“She was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldn’t deny the chance to do so.” You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. “They are my favorite.”

Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance. 

Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stiffly—but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.

Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away. 

“You were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!”

Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. “Everything—all of it—it’s great. Thank you.” The wind picks up and you shiver. “...for doing this for my parents.”

Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. “Anytime.”

-

Technically, what you’re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; that’s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?

“God no, darling,” Oscar’s mum laughs through the end of the line. “You are doing enough already. Please. Relax.”

But you can’t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. “I insist.”

So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy. 

“Ouch,” you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.

“Oh good, it’s you. I thought we had an intruder.”

Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. “Holy crap, are you okay?” In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.

“It’s only a little cut. No biggie.” But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated. 

His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. “Ah—that’s pretty deep.” He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. “We should go to the ER.” 

You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back.”

After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. “Got it,” he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but that’s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. “I also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.”

“Why’s that?” you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled. 

A minute passes by. “Because I grew up.”

“That’s…sad.” Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Dear G—I forgot this even existed!”

Oscar’s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]

Learn how to bike.

Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)

Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)

So on and so forth. “You were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to do…eh.” A tongue click. “Possibly buy a pet dragon?”

He cringes. “Not all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.” 

Crimson red flashes. “I, um, I could tell.”

69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.

The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. “I think I should, um…yeah. See ya.”

“Yeah.” He dashes off. “See you…”

-

Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so it’s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasn’t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?

And then, there was you—a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You weren’t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof. 

And no—you weren’t married.

It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesn’t mean you didn’t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of. 

Only now—for the first time in your life—there it was.

Temptation.

The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didn’t like that about himself, but it’s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasn’t romantically linked to. And yet…

There you were.

The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much more…complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there. 

Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours. 

Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola. 

Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didn’t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeah—he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts. 

White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?

He’s a grown man; an adult. There’s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose. 

“Is it any good?”

His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. “Want one? There’s plenty in the fridge.”

He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.

Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. “Gotta keep in shape.” I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what he’s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. “I meant the book, by the way.”

“No!” You laugh, nervously. “I mean…it’s alright?”

After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and biked—until you hit the local bookstore. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped. 

So many—many—wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what you’re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasn’t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. “What have you been up to?”

Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog. 

Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret. 

Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. “Oh, you know. Just… cleaning up my room.”

-

It’s been a week in a half now and you’re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.

It was a mess.

A mocking mess.

This afternoon though, you aren’t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. “Could be, but don’t you worry. We’ll find a way to make it work. Promise.”

He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spoken…pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. It’s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. I’m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you weren’t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening. 

“This is so cute,” you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes. 

“I wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.” Neat brows furrow. “It’s just that it’s old—only a matter of time before it plunges down.” “What?” 

“O-obviously not now!”

After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice. 

Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. “You do shit on purpose?” he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress. 

“Help me,” you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He must’ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.

“What so funny?” he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound. 

“Mmm. Nothing.” He snickers and you giggle harder. “It just seems as if I’m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.” His voice drops, laced with concern. “Seriously though—you were just healing. You have to be careful.”

Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesn’t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You just broke your bottle, you don’t have a drink anymore.” He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. “Take mine.”

You don’t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesn’t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette can’t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders. 

“We should probably head down…”

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. “Coming?”

A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenly—he’s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back. 

You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away first—you can’t really tell who— and you’re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.

You both are fucked.

-

The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much. 

The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; you’ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.

It was unacceptable. 

So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer. 

I don’t want to think like this—not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know I’m not like this, you know that! But he just—AGH. Maybe it’s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe it’s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend—HE’S JUST A FRIEND. 

“Would you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?” an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you. 

Pink feathers onto your cheeks. “Oh, yes, of course! I’m so sorry…”

I don’t ever ask for much, no, that’s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.

-

If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whatever—too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, I’ll make sure to not let it happen again!

If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didn’t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re back.” Cool. Calm. Collected.

“Oh! I suppose I am.” Cool. Utter. Mess.

He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. “Just finished. Cole said his uncle could shred…” A pause. “He owns a massive wood chipper.” 

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. “Sounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.” You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. “I’m sorry I was no help, too. I had to…talk to the man up above.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.” 

Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. “You could make up for it by helping me with something else.”

You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. “With what?”

Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, it’s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. “Get on.” He crouches down and your jaw drops.

“Wha—like onto your shoulders?” Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. “Put me down!”

“You’re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,” he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and that’s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, you’re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally. 

You’ve known—seen—how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldn’t help but enjoy. “Move a bit forward.” He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. “Watch it—and don’t you dare drop me.”

“Get,” he commands.

About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, you’re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grass—but you don’t.

There’s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. It’s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch he’s willing to give you, unknowingly.

“That should be good,” you whisper, meekly. He doesn’t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, you’re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least. 

“Thank you,” he feels himself saying. “What do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.”

“O-okay.”

A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? “Wait—are you being serious?”

The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start.”

With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, “Go on. Ten seconds.” Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think you’re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct. 

The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.

For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.

“I won.”

Gulp. “You sure did. Good job, Oscar.”

Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. “It wasn’t a fair fight. You weren’t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.”

Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. “That’s not true! At all. At all, at all.” You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. “You're just better at using your mouth than I am.”

It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. You’re avoiding his gaze. You’re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him. 

He doesn’t like daydreaming anymore.

“Fuck it,” he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. It’s perfect.

You don’t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. This—this—must be as good as it gets. There can’t be more, but you weren’t complaining. It was enough. 

When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. “No,” you pant. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why is that, baby?” he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s just that…I’m—” Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. “I’m a virgin, Oscar. It’s odd, I know, but I can’t sleep with you.”

“You think I didn’t know that?’

You freeze. “What?”

His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. “I figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.” You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band. 

“I wish I could do this—God, I really want to—but I can’t.”

Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? It’s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldn’t make you glow with happiness.

How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think it’s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing. 

That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, he’s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we don’t have to rush anything. I, you, we—

“Shit, o-okay,” he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. “Relax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasn’t a war itself. To see how long you’d last. No—you would last. You had to.

“I’ve thought about it.” He slips your panties down, inch by inch. “A lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Cola’s you're overly obsessed with.” And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano. 

What were you supposed to feel—relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds he’s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; it’s too much, but not enough.

More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. “Does it feel good?” You whimper. “Good—good, baby. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Velvet walls clench around his long digits. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. “Okay, listen, it’s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But that’s completely normal; it’s like a…a stingy feeling. Do you understand?” I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. “Do you want it, then?”

A zing. “Fuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.”

The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips. 

It dawns on you that you aren’t scared, nervous, or anything; you’re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? “I’ll start with the tip.” Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. “Let me know if it’s too much, we’ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,” he adds, cheekbones flushing red. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper. “I swear.”

You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didn’t know whether to enjoy this or worry. 

“Breathe, darling, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,” he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. “You’re doing so good.”

“Osc, move…please.”

There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. “Y-you’re so big.” So, so, so, so big.  “So good.”

Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once. 

From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, he’s missed this, he’s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds. 

And he—he must be a saint, himself. There’s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. There’s a gut-wrenching stare he’s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure. 

Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. “Close?” But you’re not sure, you just know it feels good—ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best you’ll ever have, because suddenly, you’re on all fours. 

As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and you’re left seeing stars. “Oh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Tell me. Describe it.”

Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.

And an Angel you were.

“Can feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulses—so thick, so veiny, so sweet.”

An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.

“God, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.” He’s pretty sure you’re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.

“Now spit.” Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, none of this does. “So pretty, sweetheart.” You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. “Again—open.”

You’re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. “Yes.” A pause. “You only get to come until you tie a knot.”

“You’re not being f-fair, holy shit.” Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.

“We don’t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It’s a mission, it’s a task, it’s a fucking wreck. It’s impossible. You’re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and you’re back to square one. You’re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then he’s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and he’s coming back down, full-throttle. 

It was cruel.

But two can play that game, you suppose.

You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then you’re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. “Go on,” you push. “Use that pretty little tongue of yours.”

Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness. 

Meanwhile, you’re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. It’s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end. 

“I’m close,” you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me you’ve done it, then no, you’re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. “Shut up, just—fucking stop talking.”

“What do y’know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.” He pokes his tongue against your hole. “Dirty girl, eh?”

With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow. 

“You got away with it—this time.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

He stiffens, trying to play it cool. “Well, not anymore, you didn’t do what I asked for you to do—”

Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. “H-how?” A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. “Seriously, how?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, wide eyes back on for show. “I did it.”

“I…yeah, yeah you did,” he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. “You’re wickedly talented. That's an art.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. “I tried my best for you.”

“I see that.” The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. “How was it?”

Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. “I get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.”

Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldn’t it be casual? He’s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and you’re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual. 

“Was I bad?” you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know I’m no professional, but I—”

“You were perfect,” he reassures with a soft smile. “Best thing to come around, solemnly swear.” Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. “I was right,” he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.

“About?”

“You tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.” Then he connects your lips, and you’re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. “Guess you won’t be needing this anymore?”

“Guess not, no. Keep it.”

“Could take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollars…”

“Hey! Be nice, you dimwit,” you warn. “You should feel special. Stupidly special.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll cherish it.”

“Creep.”

He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. “There’s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. So…thank you for trusting me.” You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. “Looks like we got dragged through the mud.”

“Ah, ew, I can’t. I need to shower.” 

Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. “Okay then…see you around?” 

“Around town?”

“Around the house.”

“In the garden?”

“In the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we still have time?”

“Before your parents get back from Costa Rica?”

“Yes.”

“Which is in—”

“A week.”

“Which is—”

“Seven days.”

“And roughly…”

“Enough time.”

“Enough time to do what?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. “Yeah, okay. Just until they get back.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[ikeuverse]

DUAL LIFE — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: mafiaboss!jake x fem!reader  GENRES: smut, angst, slight fluff WC: 10.8k+

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of drugs and illicit things, mafia stuff, jake implicitly jealous, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected sex (do it safely, please). lmk if i missed anything else.

SYNOPSIS: being a serious and respected businessman was the only side of him that jaeyun wanted you to know, afraid that he would let you into his life and, over time, you would get to know not only sim jaeyun, but also sim jake, the mafia boss.

NOTES: idk how, but i thought about it for a day and just wrote it down. i let my mind run wild and wanted something completely different for jake, so here it is. i hope you like it!

part 2 | masterlist

The corporate environment could be challenging and misogynistic when a woman holds a position of great power. At first, the fear hit you hard when your name was molded onto a plaque and, below it, the title of the boss was stamped. But alongside all this, you found yourself supported by your colleague and partner Sim Jaeyun. The first man who saw you with respect, who treated you like a boss and a partner, who handed you demands with the same intensity as he handed demands to other men in the company.

He was incredible when he signed the contract to share that company with you. And it was a good deal because once your name was linked to Jaeyun's, everything inside that building seemed to be moving perfectly toward success. Numbers and shares grew faster and faster, and meetings were shared late into the night where you and Jaeyun reviewed what you had done so far, whether you needed to change any strategies in your approaches, and how you two could take the next step.

You were surprised every time because even though he was there for everything, his word was always final. Jaeyun seemed to want your approval even if his vision was the opposite of yours. It was as if your permission was worth more than his, even though you saw him think for a while before making any decisions. Carefully and cautiously when he asked you about shares and employees, about investments, and what he should do, he was careful and very intelligent, but in his view, you were so much more. So having your approval before his was more important.

This meant that the two of you shared more time than necessary, apart from being in the office. Jaeyun constantly calls you to have dinner and go over some papers when, in reality, the two of you did everything but go over papers. Or when he called you for coffee in the middle of the day to de-stress from an annoying client in question, you gladly accepted because the combination of his company and a hot coffee was all you needed after a moment like that.

What started as routine things became a little different when Jaeyun became warmer towards you at work. It was hard to tell at first since he was always very professional and the looks you got from him were either approving ones or small smiles after a good idea in the corporate environment. You never noticed anything more than that. Until that moment. Where he made a point of touching your hand when he sat next to you, reaching for your pen while he was resting on the other side. Or when Jaeyun would gently rest his hand on your lower back so that you would enter the rooms before him as if he would lose sight of you at any moment even though the room was quite large and there was no way he could lose sight of you.

Dinners no longer had the excuse of work stuff, Jaeyun just wanted to go out and talk to you about everything other than shares, money, and boring investors. He wanted to know more about you, he wanted to hear you tell stories and he wanted to share his too. However, in this respect, you could feel him wavering a little as if he was afraid to talk about something he shouldn't have.

In your mind, Jaeyun had something difficult he was dealing with, so he tended to be more reserved about it, but you learned enough about him as the dinners became weekly. Every detail about his life – which he managed to share with you – and every quirk you picked up on as the two of you spent more time together. Jaeyun was a little box of surprises that you were trying to unravel little by little.

But as things naturally grew closer between you and him, something about the boy's behavior caught your attention. From time to time Jaeyun seemed more scattered at meetings, as if his mind was anywhere but on the words of an old, gray-haired man talking about work. Or how dinners between the two of you became the company cafeteria, him refusing – politely – to go out with you with the excuse that he was too tired. But at the same time, he didn't want to break his silent promise that you and he would share a meal at least once a week.

That didn't bother you, after all, you still had his company even if the dishes varied from pasta with fancy sauce to ramen that he asked an employee to pick up at the corner convenience store. That wasn't so important, at least Jaeyun was sitting in front of you with a faint smile and talking about how hard his day had been and how he wanted to go home and be with his dog.

Everything changed that night. You did everything in your routine, working tirelessly in your office while receiving a few emails from Jaeyun to line up a thing here and there. Answering a few calls and dealing with the staff as best you could. After you finished work, you just wanted to be in the cafeteria and try another flavor of ramen that Jaeyun had bought, claiming that you would love it. Your mouth was already starting to salivate because you knew he could find the most unusual flavors, always impressing you with the smallest things.

But your heart sank when the door to your living room opened, revealing Jaeyun and a grocery bag. Everything happened slowly before your eyes, even though the scene itself was so fast.

“I can't stay today” Jaeyun's voice snapped you out of your reverie, the bag placed on your desk while his hands were now hidden inside the tailored pants he was wearing.

“Why? Did something happen?” you asked, trying not to sound disappointed enough for him to see that he had messed with you.

But what you didn't know was that Jaeyun knew you as well as you knew yourself. Your every expression, tone of voice, everything. He knew exactly how you felt, perhaps because he was the same way, but also because he watched you too much.

“Some personal problems” he sighed softly, looking away from the bag to you “I brought you the ramen, so you can try it and tell me what you think.”

Jaeyun tried to smile to lighten the mood, taking his hands out of his pockets to fiddle with the bag and take out the bowl, showing you the new flavor he'd found. You bit your lower lip to keep from letting out a sigh or saying something you shouldn't have. Your heart was strangely bothered by it.

“It's no fun without you, Jaeyun” was the most you could say without sounding desperate or showing too much.

He felt the weight of everything fall on him as his eyes fell to the pot of ramen, seeing a spark of sadness shine in your eyes as your hands touched his and took the pot from his hand. Putting it back in the bag, you closed it and pushed it towards him.

“I—” Jaeyun turned away from your table, not wanting the ramen packets back “I'm sorry, Y/n. I really have to go.”

“Jaeyun—”

He was afraid that if he heard you say anything, he'd stay for dinner with you. That's what he wanted most. But he couldn't. Jaeyun had to leave as soon as possible before everything went to shit. So, just as quickly as he entered your office, he left and closed the door before he heard anything else come out of your mouth.

You stood there at your desk, staring at the bag that had been left there. It was the first night since you two started eating together that he didn't stay. The first night that Jaeyun barely looked at you before saying goodbye. He didn't even touch your hand as he did when he picked you up for dinner or coffee. He was so distant that it seemed like you didn't recognize him.

Meanwhile, Jaeyun was racing against time to try to balance the double life he was leading. Getting involved with you wasn't in his plans, not least because corporate life was just a façade for him, so the moment he found himself nurturing any feelings for you, he knew he was screwed. Jaeyun couldn't fall in love, but he also couldn't help feeling it when everything seemed natural when he was with you. Your presence made him forget all the bad things he experienced outside that office. That is there he was Sim Jaeyun, your partner and someone who was slowly taking over your heart.

But unfortunately, that couldn't be forever and he knew it. Leaving the elevator and walking hurriedly to his car, he took off his jacket and threw it on the passenger seat, the place where you had sat countless times in your work clothes as beautiful as any woman he had ever seen in his life. That symbolic place belonged to you, even if he didn't want to admit it. Jaeyun let his head fall back against the steering wheel of the car, uttering swear words that he remembered and that made his body explode with rage.

He wanted to be Sim Jaeyun forever. Your partner, the man who was slowly making you fall in love.

But leaving there he was Jake, one of the mob bosses who was now rushing to help his friends with new charges and problems coming up.

The sound of his fingers drumming on the marble of the table was a little louder than usual. Jaeyun tried hard not to show how annoyed – and angry – he was to be there that night. He knew it would be impossible to hide from his friends how much he disliked being there, but at the same time, he couldn't forget what an authority figure he was there too.

“Are you in a bad mood?” he heard Sunghoon's voice cut through the air, entering the room with all the grace he had compared to the other boys. Jaeyun sighed, stopping his drumming to slide his hand to the glass in front of him and drink all the liquid it contained. He wasn't sure what it was, but he would thank Heeseung later for putting in the highest alcohol content he could find.

“Don't tease me, Park” he replied after feeling the burning go down his throat.

Sunghoon laughed a little and sat down next to Heeseung, facing Jaeyun.

“I asked you a question, bro” he said, “Why are you in such a bad mood? Jay and San have already managed to corner those idiots and take what they tried to steal from us.”

Looking at it that way, Jaeyun could be relieved. Smuggling drugs wasn't something he was proud of doing, but he knew how respected he was for carrying on his father's work as well as he would have liked. At the time, Sim wished he hadn't been so good and just stuck to executive work, without getting involved with the family mafia. But he knew how much confidence his late father had and how much he wanted Jaeyun to take over.

“I know, it's just—”

“He's mad because we ruined his date with his girlfriend” Heeseung winked at Sunghoon, who quickly understood everything.

“Shit, tonight was the night of your romantic dinner.”

“It's not a romantic dinner” Jaeyun tried to make amends.

“I told us not to call him, damn it, Heeseung” Sunghoon pretended to be angry, knowing that there was no way not to call Jaeyun. This was of a gigantic magnitude and even though the two of them were his right-hand man, they couldn't make decisions without consulting him first. A form of respect for their best friend, who had taken them in even after taking on a dangerous and important position.

“What did you want me to do?” Heeseung tried to defend himself, sliding down the back of the chair and running one hand through his hair “They tried to rob us” he continued “My only thought was to run to the shed and stop it, but I couldn't do that without Jake's approval.”

Jaeyun listened intently as the conversation unfolded in front of him. Heeseung and Sunghoon knew that they had complete freedom when it came to any decision, especially if Jaeyun was playing the role of partner in a big company. Wearing a suit and tie, expensive tailoring, and with you by his side. It was a persona he wanted to maintain, even though reality hit him every time he received a call from his best friends informing him of something concerning his second job.

He ran a hand through his hair, the sting of the drink gradually fading from his throat as he looked at the two boys still talking.

An absurd urge to disappear and leave the business to the two of them, to run to the office because Jaeyun knew you'd still be there working, eating the ramen he'd left for you. A strange tightness in his chest made him sigh. He had left you alone for the first time after everything had happened. It wasn't because he wanted to, but Jaeyun was afraid of involving you in the second life he was leading. He didn't want to put you in danger, make you go out to dinner with glances lingering between the two of you.

That life brought Jaeyun and his friends a lot of good things, but just as many bad things. He walked around with plainclothes security guards all the time, but it wasn't as if he could do that for you without your permission. It would be handed to him on a plate to tell you about his life in the mafia because on what pretext would Jaeyun say he wanted to offer you private security? It wasn't as if it was necessary for the life of a company boss. No one would want to hurt you for that. So with his lack of creativity in coming up with an excuse, he found himself doing the one thing he didn't want to do: hide you.

Dinner in the company cafeteria was safer than parading around with you by his side, even though it was the only thing he wanted at that moment more than anything. Holding your hand again with the excuse that the restaurant was full and he didn't want to let you out of his sight. That may have been true, but a large part of it was because he was worried that someone in disguise might harm you.

Jaeyun had declared enemies and he knew what some were capable of. Anything could be done against him, but no one should lay a finger on you.

“Jake!” Heeseung's shout brought him out of his thoughts quickly, blinking hard to regain awareness that he'd been immersed in his thoughts for too long “Dude, do you have her on your mind again?”

“At least disguise it” Sunghoon muttered.

“I think I'm going to shoot your ass, you idiot” Jaeyun pointed at his friend, getting up from his chair.

“Calm down man, I'm kidding” he said “Messing with her really puts you in a bad mood.”

Jaeyun ignored it because he had no way of refuting it. He realized that everything that involved him made his nerves frayed and his feelings more acute. It wasn't as if he could control what he felt. If he could, Jaeyun would have chosen not to involve any feelings because he wanted to protect you. But the next thing he knew, any little detail about you made him lose his mind. He wanted to keep you close, he wanted to feel you, he wanted to have you even if it meant risking everything.

A remnant of conscience made him keep his touches a little simpler, although he felt the absurd urge to grab your waist and feel your lips pressed to his.

“I'm going to check what Jay's got so far” Heeseung got up too, passing the seats and going around the table to leave the room “Any news I'll let you two know, so keep an eye on the phones” and left.

Now with Sunghoon being the only presence in the room besides him, Jaeyun felt the weight of everything almost crush him. His friend's gaze almost pierced his insides because he knew how Sim felt. Sunghoon had a better view of Jaeyun's feelings than the other two.

“Sit down” he said when he saw his best friend lost in thought, barely able to utter a word apart from opening and closing his mouth a few times. Obeying, Jaeyun sat back in his chair “What's going on?”

What about? He wanted to ask but knew it was a waste of time. There was nothing Park Sunghoon couldn't figure out. So the other just sighed, leaning back even further in his chair and closing his eyes.

“I shouldn't have liked her in the first place” it was almost natural to let it out, as if he wanted Sunghoon to hear those words “Things should be professional, I should just focus on the actions and nothing else. Then go back home, deal with the mafia problems my father left behind, and later think about marrying the daughter of some other mafia boss.”

“Better than marrying Y/n?” Sunghoon asked.

It was strange that his best friends spoke your name. This was proof that the two worlds Jaeyun lived in were colliding. Then he opened his eyes, wanting to scream out everything that had been squeezing his chest for the last few hours.

“That's what happened to my father, I just—”

“It doesn't have to happen to you” Sunghoon interrupted him with a certain kindness, although there was none in his tone. He still looked at his best friend as he said each word with deep sincerity “You fell in love with her and you have to go with that. Make Y/n part of your life like Sim Jaeyun and—”

“Don't even finish it” it was his turn to interrupt him “I would never bring her to meet Jake Sim.”

“But if you two got engaged, sooner or later she'd find out about the double life you lead, man” Jaeyun hated how certain Sunghoon seemed about anything. He was the most rational when it came to work and personal life and always had the best advice. He was responsible for not letting any of his three best friends commit any kind of madness.

“This can't happen” his hands ran frantically through his hair, messing up every strand that Jaeyun managed to get his fingers through. He wanted to pull them out of his head in a moment of small sanity but came back to reality when he heard Sunghoon's voice next.

“Maybe you don't need to tell her at first, but it might make Jaeyun's life a little more enjoyable” he said calmly, “You really are falling for her, we can see that.”

We. Jaeyun had always been good at hiding his feelings, from the prettiest to the worst, from his friends. Or so he thought since he had to swallow so much just to make his father proud and be where he was at that moment. Bringing Sunghoon, Jongseong, and Heeseung with him was a baggage of confidence and a remnant of the normal life he had before getting involved in the family business. The only three people in his circle who knew everything, who never judged him, and were always there for Jaeyun. The best childhood friends who stuck together, and that in itself made them get to know more about each other every day.

That's why the three of you could see Jaeyun slowly falling in love with you. Although the words never left his mouth, the way he talked about you could already be deduced from afar. The sparkle in his eyes when he opened a message from you on the meeting table in the room as Jake Sim. The spark of a feeling emerged as he replied sweetly. When the boys attended a company dinner as fake investors, talking to you about the profit they could generate for your and Jaeyun's company. The reality was that they were there at Sim's request to check if anyone was a possible suspected smuggler or rival since his name had been talked about so much in the city at the famous dinner. He was afraid of someone showing up and ruining the double life he had fought so hard to hide.

It was the first and only time the three of them had met and talked to you, but it was enough to see the way Jaeyun looked at you. How he behaved next to you and the tired sighs he released throughout the night as each man approached you. Before, your name was a legend to them, Sim Jaeyun's lousy partner in the company, but when they saw you in person, it all seemed to make sense.

Now we know why Jake fell in love so easily, Heeseung almost lost his teeth when he made that comment inside the shed, after counting out three hundred and eight suitcases of cash. Payment for the container of drugs they had distributed. Jongseong was in charge of separating his best friend so that he wouldn't beat Heeseung to a pulp, while Sunghoon calmly intervened.

Everything went so slowly until he realized that he had fallen too hard for you. In the feelings he was having for you.

“What can I do about it now?” Jaeyun finally looked at Sunghoon, really looked at him. Looking for an answer and no longer wanting to run away from what mattered at that moment.

“How about making amends and asking her to dinner?” he asked.

“I don't want to go out with her and be seen— You know, I don't know who might be following me…”

“Come on Jake, how many men do you have doing security for your dead father's mafia?” he glared at his friend, always teased by the way Jaeyun didn't like to say that it was all his now. It would be easier to say that it still belonged to his late father, that all those men followed the command of Mr. Sim, to whom Jaeyun gave his voice. He didn't like to be called boss, although it happened at the teasing of his friends.

“Many” Jaeyun answered him.

“Then put them in charge of her security once a week” Sunghoon swiveled in his chair, his eyes never leaving Jaeyun's for a second “We have enough men to put in one a week without her noticing, and you'll still be able to go out with her in peace.”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment. He didn't want to be awkward about mentioning to you that men were escorting you for your safety, after all, he was afraid that something would happen to you even if the two of you had no involvement whatsoever.

“That's a very good idea, Hoon, but—”

“There's no such thing, you know it's the only way if you want to have something with her.”

For a while longer he seemed to think about the possibility. It wasn't as if Jaeyun was hiding something terrible from you, not least because he would be looking out for your safety. He'd also be freer to go out with you again for the dinners you two shared during the weeks.

“Not to mention that if you and she start dating, the security will be doubled, don't you think?” Sunghoon stood up from his chair “Everyone will know about her if something gets serious.”

That was Jaeyun's fear, that everyone would know about you besides him and his best friends. In that world where he was Jake Sim, there was no way anything could be hidden. It wasn't like the world where Jaeyun could get away with it under an expensive suit and a lot of stock. He sighed heavily, throwing his head back without the strength to continue the conversation. Knowing how right his best friend was.

“Right, thanks for the advice, anyway” Jaeyun asked.

“At your service” Sunghoon smiled “Are you going to stay there now? I'll check on Heeseung if Jay needs any help too…”

“I'll stay a while longer, I'll be going soon” he said, still sitting down because his body seemed to be weighed down by the barrage of information and advice thrown at him in such a short space of time.

Sunghoon walked to the door of the room, opened it, and turned to Jaeyun with a playful, silly smile on his face.

“Yes sir, boss” giving a mock salute, he ran off before Jaeyun could gather up a load of papers to throw in his direction, but Sunghoon was quick to close the door. Not before hearing the other swear at him for his provocations.

Jaeyun got to know you little by little, his first impression being of you as a strong and fearless woman. Someone he could easily work with among the men who underestimated you and who made him feel angry. Little by little, he noticed how easy it was to live with you and how you could read between the lines when things were happening. He was surprised when he started to notice the moment you felt uncomfortable in a meeting or in the presence of a man who tried to put you down, or how he could understand how bothered and angry you were with some stupid comment or action that had gone wrong.

Over time, he realized that he knew a lot about you just by interacting with you professionally. But when he decided to take a step and invite you to dinner, under the pretext of reviewing something from work, Jaeyun knew he was ruined. He knew that the first sincere smile you gave him had ruined and torn down any barrier he had built over the years in an attempt to not bring anyone into the dark and double world of his life. Jaeyun didn't want you to be a part of that.

So trying to push you away and keep you safe was the first and only thought he had, swallowing the physical and carnal desire that consumed him for wanting to have you in his arms. He couldn't afford to make the mistake of going around glimpsing you and your beauty, enjoying life as a couple that he knew was dangerous.

Sim Jaeyun was a good man, but Sim Jake was the opposite of that. And between the two personas he found himself divided on what to do because he knew that in both his lives, he was in love with you. It was the only thing he couldn't separate.

He knew it was too late to try to make Sunghoon's advice count for anything. Arriving at the office the next day, Jaeyun knew he had screwed up when he saw the bag of ramen on his desk, the two untouched pots very well placed next to the papers he needed to fill out during the day. What surprised him was the way you treated him throughout the week.

Professionalism took over again and you were the Y/n he had met when he joined that company and took on the role of being his partner. He saw the old woman with whom he had shared the management of that building and whom he had always admired – later he had fallen in love – and now he was back to the beginning. At least you, because he felt that he was falling more and more into your charms and letting his feelings take over.

It wasn't easy that you were monosyllabic in meetings, your gaze never meeting his, and every time you both needed to talk about any decision, you said you were busy and asked Jaeyun to talk to your secretary. You were running away, he knew that. So it could only mean that, besides being upset about him leaving you that night, something told you that you also had feelings for him.

Because no one would be upset about canceling a dinner. Even with the shitty excuse he gave you, if neither of you had feelings for each other, Jaeyun wouldn't have been frustrated to get Heeseung's call that night and you wouldn't have been upset to see him leave without even eating with you and then leaving.

It was a silent competition of who was handling it the worst way possible.

But he didn't know that jealousy was being added to the mix when he saw a new investor smile at you. How bold he was to approach you after the meeting, in the coffee room, and ask if you wanted to go out for something to eat.

I've seen this happen before, idiot. Don't even try. That's what he hoped the look would convey, but Jaeyun forgot that you hadn't looked in his direction for a few days, trying to ignore him as best you could. That's why you accepted the invitation. A little hesitantly because it had never happened before, other than Jaeyun, it was the first time that any man inside that building had invited you for something other than your partner. At that moment, after so many days, you looked in his direction, afraid of what you might feel when your eyes met. But seeing the discomfort on Sim's face seemed to give you some satisfaction.

“I still have a few more things to take care of, so—” the man extended a hand to you, gently holding yours. His touch was gentle and you tried to smile a little wider, looking away from Jaeyun to the boy in front of you “Do you mind meeting at the restaurant on the corner in half an hour?”

“No. It’s okay” you replied, feeling him squeeze your hand and lean in to kiss your torso, pulling away and letting go of your hand. He smiled at you once more, returning to the circle of men that was in the other corner of the room to say goodbye and do what he had to do.

You thought you should chat with your employees after a meeting, have some coffee like you always did, and then go to your office. But Jaeyun’s gaze was starting to make you feel strange. He didn’t miss a single movement of yours, from the moment you moved to get a cup of coffee to when you approached your secretary to whisper to him.

“I’m going to my office” you said quietly, not wanting to make a fuss with anyone. “I’ll be leaving for dinner soon, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am” he smiled at you, looking away to Jaeyun and swallowing hard. Your secretary had always been a bit wary of the man who was staring at you, but since there had never been any disagreements, that was passed on as he showed himself to be completely professional.

Jaeyun had never felt jealous until this moment, watching you gracefully leave the room and close the door.

It was all his fault and the idiotic way he tried to push you away even though he wanted to keep you close. Now, not knowing how to act, Jaeyun had to witness that scoundrel of someone asking you out and, worst of all, you accept it.

Something settled inside him and, without measuring any effort, he walked out the door quickly to your office. His mind had never worked well under pressure, whether from anger or jealousy like it was now. Jaeyun had never been jealous, after all, he had never met anyone who aroused that kind of feeling in him. It was like an urban legend or only hearing about the romantic stories that Jongseong and Sunghoon had here and there. But he had never felt that in his life.

When he stopped in front of your office door, his heartbeat almost rose to his ears as adrenaline and anxiety ran through him. Jaeyun didn't know how he would act after finding you in your office and confronting you. He knew something would happen, you could feel the tension in the air every time the two of you were in the same room, he just didn't know how intense it was. He had a slight impression, but he couldn't decipher you from that yet.

He decided not to knock, gripping the door handle and turning around without beating around the bush, entering right away before you could say anything else.

“What—” you quickly turned around from the table, where you had been facing away until then, packing your things and ready to leave. Your heart almost jumped out of your mouth at the sight of Jaeyun standing in the middle of your living room. The thud of the door as it closed went unnoticed by your ears and the only sound was your own racing heart. “Jaeyun?”

He approached slowly, one step at a time as he thought about what to say or how to act. You could tell how fast his chest was rising and falling due to the rapid breathing from the fright he had gotten seconds ago.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to stay calm as he continued to approach. The steps stopped just a few inches away when he cornered you between his body and your table, making your body almost bend over if it weren’t for your hands being quick enough to hold on to the edge of the table.

“You’re not going to this dinner” the authority in his tone of voice made your legs tremble, but you were grateful to hold yourself firmly against the table and your hands tightened their grip on the edge. Jaeyun still had the ability and knowledge to read you so perfectly that when he saw your mouth open – probably with the intention of asking why – he was faster and leaned in to press his lips to yours.

He expected anything: a slap, a sudden pull away, a loud curse that could echo throughout the building. But the surprise came when you let go of the edge of the table to spread your hands against his chest, slowly moving up until you grabbed the collar of the shirt he was wearing, pulling him closer to you.

You were an amazing woman and he knew it, every single thing you did drove him crazy. And feeling you pulling him between your legs, giving way by opening your lips and welcoming his tongue and tangling it with yours.

Everything seemed magical to Jaeyun and you. Each touch took its time, something that had been repressed until now. He brought his hands to your hips, keeping you in place as he made a small effort to lift you up and sit you on the table.

Your pride in trying to ignore him was going down the drain more and more, as Jaeyun intensified that kiss and moaned against your lips. You should have pushed him away and gotten out of there when it was time, but now it was too late. He was tangled between your legs and his hands were doing a great job squeezing you and sliding down to your lower back to slide down to your ass. It was your turn to moan against his lips, your nails going inside the collar of his shirt and scratching his shoulder to mark something against the skin you wanted so much to know.

“Jaeyun” you whispered breathlessly and he swore that was the best sound he had ever heard in his life. Pulling his lips away from yours to get some air for his lungs, he let you ramble on as he lowered his mouth down your jaw. Feeling the taste of your skin and the texture of it between his lips, marking a path of saliva until it reached your neck.

“Yes, babe?” Jaeyun had no idea how much he moved you, because if he did, he would never call you by that nickname in the form of a whisper, while still kissing your skin and sucking a good amount of it between his lips. The pop noise he left after a long suck, certainly leaving the spot marked a few minutes later.

“I need—” you wanted to say that you needed to go, that this would be a provocation on his part. But your mind wasn’t working right and it didn’t help that he started pressing his hips against yours. “Holy shit” you moaned softly, the hardness of Jaeyun’s cock slowly making the right pressure against your still-clothed clit. You couldn’t say how he had the exact notion of where to press and how to press.

“I already told you that you won’t, Y/n” Jaeyun gasped against your neck, moving his kisses up and trailing the tip of his tongue across your skin until his face was level with yours again.

That sight was hell on earth for you. Jaeyun with his lips red and shiny from the kiss they had just shared, adding to the kisses and hickeys on your skin. His eyes drooping and dark with desire staring at you with a possessiveness you never thought you would know. You wanted to be able to say something, but it was impossible while you had his hands on your shoulders now.

“Tell me if this is too much, okay?” What did he mean by that? What was Jaeyun thinking when he asked you that kind of thing? It was already too much to have felt his kiss in a situation like that, but you were sure that it was too much to have his fingers unbuttoning the buttons of your shirt.

Every particle of your skin is exposed for his eyes to admire even more. You were never one to wear low-cut tops at work and his sanity was grateful for that, so he didn't know what to do as each button was undone until he reached below your breasts.

“Shit” he cursed softly, praying that you wouldn't hear the hint of vulnerability in his voice as he noticed the light lace adorning your breasts. They were beautiful and he didn't want to think about anything else but touching them. But Jaeyun didn't want to rush, he needed to feel you because he had been depriving himself of it for so long and almost lost.

When the last button was undone, he bit his lower lip to keep from moaning at the sight of you naked in front of him, sitting on the table with his body between your legs. Jaeyun would be lying if he said he had never thought about being in that position with you, or any other, where only his cock inside you and your voice moaning his name would be enough for any scenario to be propitious. He felt like a pervert for it, but there was no denying the desire that radiated inside him every time you showed up.

Leaning down, Jaeyun left a kiss in the space between your neck and your collarbone, enjoying the sounds you made and smiling against your skin when he didn't hear any objections from you. This meant he could continue with the kisses until he reached the curve of your breast, tracing the outline with the tip of his tongue. He looked up, seeking eye contact with you and when he did, he knew he was where he belonged. The way you looked at him, the tense and longing expression you maintained as you held his gaze was all he needed.

“Can I continue?” he asked.

“Please, yes” you answered, nibbling on your lower lip at the same moment that Jaeyun's teeth slid over the lace of your bra, lowering the fabric enough to expose your chest. He was on the verge of madness to taste every part of you, but desire consumed him with every reaction you had to his touch.

The tip of Jaeyun's tongue circled your exposed nipple, making a moan run through the room as it slipped out of your throat. He felt his cock tighten even more in his pants with each sound you made. His hands – which had previously remained calm when touching you – now impatiently ran over your shoulders to remove your shirt with a quick tug, going to the middle of your back to unbutton your bra and rip it off your body as well. Turning his attention back to your breasts, he sucked your nipple with such desire while his large hand covered the other and squeezed to feel its softness.

You were on cloud nine, his every touch coated with possessiveness and desire, making your head spin as you felt Jaeyun's warm tongue against your nipple. The silent sucking compared to the sound of your moans, while your hands quickly went to his hair to pull the strands as a sign that he would never stop what he was doing.

But he also didn't intend to take his mouth off your body. If Jaeyun could talk at that moment, he would tell you how good it was feeling every part of your skin, hearing every one of your moans, and he still hadn't done half of the things he wanted to do with you.

Missing your mouth, he went up to your lips again to share another kiss, this time a little more sloppy and slobbery. Your tongues ran against each other for dominance while your mouths fit perfectly, the synchrony of the movements making you both gasp into each other's mouths.

Jaeyun's hands went to your hips again, but this time his speed and strength came to the advantage as he took off your skirt along with your panties. At another time you could notice how skilled he was and wonder – or not – why he was in such a hurry or knew how to do it so quickly. But now you just wanted to focus on the cold air of the room hitting your pussy and how Jaeyun released your lips with a lewd and wet noise.

It never crossed your mind that Sim Jaeyun, your partner, the man you had seen many times seriously across the room – regardless of the number of times you had dinner together – and for whom you were harboring feelings, would now be kneeling in front of you. He was perdition personified in that submissive and vulnerable position. His eyes were bright, like a puppy begging for a reward. And you knew that what he wanted, besides making up for lost time, was to be between your legs like that.

A mutual and wordless agreement between you and Jaeyun was drawn at that moment, with him slowly approaching your pussy and you opening your legs enough to accommodate him even more. As a test, he stretched out his tongue and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clitoris, collecting your essence and feeling your taste linger on the tip of the wet muscle that he passed through your entire intimacy.

“Fuck, Jaeyun” you tilted your head back, the deliciously warm sensation of his tongue licking your pussy was too much to handle. His hands wrapped around your thighs and held them wide open as he licked a little more, seeming to be hungry as he collected a little more of your essence.

You rested your hands in his hair, your legs feeling like jelly as Jaeyun moved a little further. He focused on sucking on your clit, circling his tongue over the sensitive bud as he looked up to try to catch some reaction from you. Your head was thrown back, but he wanted you to look at him, just once. Just once to see him eat you like a good meal.

“Look at me, Y/n” Jaeyun asked hoarsely, pulling his lips away from your pussy to get your attention. You wanted to pull his hair and bury his face in your pussy again, the lack of contact with your clit made you whimper softly, it was a great torture. But you had to obey if you wanted to feel him again, so your head lifted, your eyes searching his to find the sinful sight.

There was no way Jaeyun could be that desirous more than anything else, it was impossible that that man could look so good in any position or situation. You almost cursed him if it weren't for how quickly he maintained eye contact as he approached your pussy again. This time he sucked you more slowly, drawing circles on your clit and maintaining eye contact, not losing a single second of his eyes on yours. He moved one of his hands away from your leg to slide between your folds, introducing his index finger into your hole.

“I— Fuck, don't do this” you pressed yourself against his finger, the introduction being too much for you. He wanted to fuck you so badly now, with your moaning and your eyes nearly closing, it was torturous to keep them open as he inserted the second finger and continued to suck on your clit.

The movements were now combined quickly, making him alternate between scissoring movements and rotating his fingers inside you, at the same second he sucked your clitoris and ran the tip of his tongue over your pussy, opening your lips so he could spread his saliva along with your essence. The wet sound of his fingers going back and forth inside you, Jaeyun's prominent knuckles almost making you come undone right there. Your walls sucked him so deliciously that he wanted to feel his cock being buried inside you and how hot it would be to be inside there.

The thought alone made Jaeyun feel his underwear get wet, he knew that his pre-cum was almost overcoming the tailoring of the pants he was wearing. It was already too much to have to endure all of that without being able to feel the slightest relief in his cock. But when he decided to introduce the third finger inside your pussy, it was as if he had seen the vision of heaven. Your head fell back again, you couldn't keep your eyes on him.

“Y/n, look—”

“Come up here, please,” you begged. He gave your clit one last kiss as if to taste you one last time before moving up his body to be close to you again. His fingers continued to work your pussy harder and harder as it clenched around his sliding, wet digits.

When Jaeyun brought his face closer to yours, you didn’t wait for any response other than to place your lips on his, sharing the taste of you that lingered on his lips. It was all so intense as your body shuddered and the knot in your stomach broke. You hugged Jaeyun’s body between your arms and held him by the hips between your legs, your pussy convulsing on his fingers as his mouth muffled the most obscene and loud moans you could make calling his name. Cumming on his fingers so hard that all of your liquid easily ran down the palm of his hand.

He wanted you to take the time you needed to catch your breath, the intensity of your orgasm taking over every cell in your body as he was careful enough to pull his fingers out of your pussy. You moaned and whimpered, the lack of contact making you feel empty and weak, but something sparked in you when Jaeyun pulled away enough to bring his fingers to his lips, licking the length of his cock until he reached the palm of his hand.

“I knew you tasted amazing” he whispered, completely cleaning up what had been your orgasm liquid until there was nothing left.

You pulled him back to you, running your thumb over his chin that held more of your liquid. Jaeyun smiled slowly as he felt your soft touch, your fingers sliding down it until they reached the waistband of his pants.

“Y/n, don’t—”

“Shhh, it’s okay” you kissed his jaw, your lips slowly sliding down Jaeyun’s neck to part of his exposed collarbone “It must hurt, huh?”

“No” he lied, moaning the second your hands undid his belt and opened his zipper so his cock would be less tight. He wasn’t good at that kind of lie per se, but he wasn’t stupid enough to want to demand too much from you either, considering the intensity of your orgasm, Jaeyun was already happy to see you satisfied like that.

“We can make this less painful for you” your voice whispered so sensually that he almost came undone right there, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he felt your mouth kiss him, right in the middle of his throat. “Put that down for me” your request was an order that had no objection, so Jaeyun quickly pushed his pants along with his underwear, his cock jumping out and hitting against his pelvis and stomach. Your eyes quickly scanned down, seeing the size of it and sighing at the thought of it being inside you in a few seconds.

“Y/n” Jaeyun moaned, an absurd need to have any kind of touch from you against him. Then your fingers quickly went to the head of his cock, red and shiny with pre-cum, spreading all the liquid with the sole purpose of stimulating him and teasing him a little. “What the fuck, shit” he cursed.

It was too much to suffer, considering that Jaeyun had been untouched for a long time, even more so after hearing your moans and seeing what your body was capable of with just a few touches from him. Impatience took over and he pulled his shirt by the collar, not bothering to undo any buttons, he just wanted to get rid of any piece that held him and feel the heat of your body against his.

“I want—” he moaned again, pushing his hips against the palm of your hand when you held the base and went down the entire length, masturbating his veiny and thick cock between your fingers. Jaeyun wanted nothing more than to feel your touch and what you were making him feel.

“What do you want?” you asked, your lips still against the skin of his throat, slowly sliding down to one of his ears to whisper the words. He spread his hands on your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling your body over the table so that he was at the edge of it. Your hips and your pussy are a little more exposed to him.

“I want to be inside you, Y/n. I— fuck” Jaeyun knew he was being a mess just moaning and fucking your fist as your hand tightened more and more on his cock. Spreading the pre-cum all over the length until it reached the base.

He went crazy when you leaned in enough for a ball of saliva to escape between your lips and slide down to the head of his cock, spreading some of it along the length with your – almost–perfect aim. That helped spread it even more across Jaeyun’s cock and he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much for him and the boy was afraid he would explode in his hand and cum right there. It would be shameful to do this without him being inside you, even for a few seconds.

“Y/n, please…” it was his turn to beg now. The feared Sim Jake would never do this, would never be in this role, much less Sim Jaeyun. Both respected and feared, but now he just wanted to be yours and beg for whatever you had to offer.

Without further provocation, you knew how painful it was for him. And your pussy got wet again just from the sounds he made and the unfolding of the scene in front of you. Positioning his cock at your entrance, it was a silent invitation for him to insert himself into your hole. Your hands left there to hold him, one on each side of his neck, letting Jaeyun lead the movements.

Slowly he thrust his cock into you, the warmth of your pussy and the wetness of your juices being enough to shelter him so well and facilitate the entrance of his cock that you swore it would not be possible to fit. Soon he was all the way inside you, his breathing uneven as he finally had his cock shoved into your pussy.

“How do you feel?” Jaeyun uttered with some difficulty, his chest rising and falling quickly as he leaned his body towards you.

“Amazing” you tried not to moan, pulling his face close to yours so that his forehead rested on yours. “You can move now” your request, again, became an order when Jaeyun finally moved his hips to remove his cock and leave only the head inside you, returning with a slow but strong movement. His pelvis touching your clit with the movement.

He could no longer hold back his good manners and the desire to go slowly, wanting to make you feel every time his cock entered and left your pussy. Jaeyun pressed his fingers into your thighs, leaving marks that could be seen later as his nails dug into your skin, gaining momentum to start the movements. The sounds of skin slapping and the wetness of both your arousals are the perfect symphony accompanied by the moans that you and he left in your living room. It was visible the way you tried to keep your body each time Jaeyun thrust his cock even deeper into you, the burning slightly appearing in your groin with each more force that he thrust inside you. Your walls fluttered around his cock and sheltered him each time he entered with even more force.

“Shit, you feel so good.” Jaeyun gave a small smile when you tried to say something, only managing to moan and nod in agreement. Knowing how hard it would be for you to say anything at that moment he went faster and faster, pressing his fingers harder and harder against your body, now moving up to your hips. He felt you move your body against his, rubbing your clit against the length of his cock each time he pulled out completely before burying him deep inside you again. Jaeyun’s pelvis stimulated your sensitive bud each time he went so deep that there was no space left between your bodies, his balls slapping against your thighs and adding even more to the obscene noises in the sex between the two of you.

Jaeyun’s cock twitched as your pussy tightened, indicating that your orgasm was just around the corner. He was also about to cum, practically holding it in for so long that he feared how much would come next.

“I need—” Jaeyun whispered.

“Inside” you cut him off, knowing he could cum just by the way his hips bucked between thrusts. Your hands slid down his neck and up to his cheeks, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues tangled, your lips quick and desperate for some pressure as he picked up the pace to drive his cock even deeper into you.

A combination of his hip thrusts and the pulls he gave your hips to meet him, he felt your pussy clench around him so hard that it was enough for Jaeyun to spill. He came, painting your walls milky white as he moaned your name relentlessly. You weren’t far away and it only took a few more thrusts for you to cum on his cock. The white ring formed around his length as he continued to thrust in and out of you, not indicate that he was stopping just because cum was still gushing from the head of his sensitive cock.

With one last movement, your pussy milking every last drop, Jaeyun stopped moving. The strength draining from his body and giving way to calm, the high serotonin running through you and him after you both came together.

Jaeyun left a slow kiss on your lips, waiting a long minute until he finally pulled out of you. The sensitivity hits you both and makes you moan into each other's mouths.

“Sorry” he said as he knew you might be hypersensitive, even though he wanted to stay inside your pussy all night if he could.

“Okay” you replied, smiling tiredly before looking to the side and searching for your clothes. He went faster before lifting his underwear and pants, leaving a hint of sadness in your body for depriving you of the sight of him practically naked in front of you. But what caught your attention was that Jaeyun picked up his shirt from the floor, stretching it towards you.

“I don’t know where there are tissues, but—” he smiled a little, using the sleeve of his shirt to clean you between your legs.

“Jaeyun” you tried to stop him, but it was too late. Jaeyun cleaned you so carefully that it was practically impossible to believe, especially after what the two of you had done and the marks he had left on your body.

He helped you change, putting each piece of clothing in its proper place and still waiting for you to fix your hair, turning to him after a long time. The stain on the sleeve of his shirt, after it was put on, made your cheeks burn more than looking into his eyes and thinking about what the two of you had done.

“So…” you began, looking at him with a shy smile. Jaeyun smiled too, biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from growing even bigger as he got closer and wrapped one of his arms around your waist.

“Then I’ll take you home, and we’ll have dinner properly again from now on” as a couple, he wanted to add. But that was too much for just one night, Jaeyun wanted to tell you that as the two of you went out more often.

Explaining the fear he felt about his feelings for you was the most that could come out of Jaeyun's mouth. That made him feel good enough to not think he was lying – completely – to you. He was really afraid of what he felt, but at the same time, he was afraid of bringing you into his double world. The last part was still a secret, but at least hearing that you forgave him and that you accepted having a relationship with him was all that needed to be said.

Two months in which Jaeyun stopped being afraid to tell you what he felt for you. That the two of you, besides being business partners, had become a couple. You started to frequent his apartment and met his friends too, those who had to lie about their professions and never let it slip that they worked for Sim Jake, who you didn't even know.

Two months in which you had private security, unknown to you because Sunghoon's idea was better. At least one man every week took care of you from afar and kept Jaeyun informed in case anyone suspicious approached. No consequences were made as the relationship progressed. He was a little more relieved. Keeping it just in Jaeyun's life was what he wanted for a while, if things really progressed and became even more serious, he had to tell you about his other life. But there was no need yet.

“Love” your voice made him abandon the thoughts that constantly intrigued him, afraid that you would leave him at any moment for the lie he so wanted to get rid of, but couldn't. Looking in your direction, the smile came automatically when you approached him, going around the office desk to sit on his lap “Is everything okay?”

“Why do you ask?” in the last few months Jaeyun let the thought pass that you could also read him the same way he did with you. That you knew him as well as he knew you.

“Because I’ve been feeling quiet for a few days now” you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, at the same second he wrapped his arm around your waist “And because you’re twenty minutes late for dinner.”

Shit, the dinner. He had completely forgotten, staying inside the office to finish answering Jongseong and Sunghoon’s messages, trying to keep things out of danger with the new robbery that had been successfully carried out. He wanted to know if everything had gone according to the orders he had given that same morning, completely forgetting that he was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago in the company parking lot.

“Shit, love, I’m sorry” Jaeyun leaned in, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His heavy breathing hit your skin and made you shiver. “I just—”

“How about we go home, then?” you asked, one of your hands going up to his hair and trying to stroke it slowly. “Your day must have been kind of rough, those men are annoying when they want to go back on their proposals.”

Every time you deduced that Jaeyun's tiredness and fear had something to do with the office, his heart sank a little more. His breathing hitched and he wanted to scream. But he held himself back and just nodded slowly, kissing your skin and lifting his head to look at you.

“Wait for me in the car? I'll fix everything here,” he asked.

“Sure,” you smiled once more, that being enough to calm all the nerves that persisted in his body. You leaned in to leave a quick and simple kiss on Jaeyun's full lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered back, kissing you once more before letting you get off his lap to leave the room.

Saying that he loved you out loud was like freeing himself from the bonds that suffocated him, held him back, and hurt him. He had never said that out loud to anyone other than his parents and his best friends. At first, it was as scary as wanting a relationship, but as you said and showed your love, Jaeyun knew it was the right thing to do. He felt that all that love was overwhelming, that as intensely as it scared him, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to continue.

Turning off all the appliances in the room and turning off the lights, he headed to the hallways of the building, greeting the security guards and some employees who were still there. Going to meet you in the parking lot. He just wanted to go home, enjoy your company, and take a hot shower. Many notes Jaeyun could think about having sex with you and using it as a form of calming, but that night he just wanted to feel your embrace, and your smell alone being the only thing capable of making his mind unfocused from everything that worried him.

A natural calming that was always right in front of him, the person who was the perfect balance between chaos and what he needed to stay alive.

“Jaeyun!” That was your voice, he could hear it from far away, but it wasn't like your call was as soft and calm as it always was. You were screaming. In desperation.

He looked around the open parking lot, trying to find you and why you seemed so desperate, but suddenly his world fell apart. Jaeyun's stomach was churning seeing your figure through the window of that van, screaming desperately and being pulled by someone hooded who wanted you to be quiet.

The car accelerated, making a complete turn in the parking lot before stopping next to Jaeyun and the passenger rolled down the window.

“We have something that belongs to you, Jake” the man smiled with rotten teeth, Jaeyun ran a few steps to grab him, but the driver took off “We want our drugs back!” he shouted before disappearing.

Your screams were the last thing he heard before the dead of night and the noise of the tires tearing through that parking lot. Jaeyun fell to his knees on the ground, the strength draining from his body. His scream echoed throughout the parking lot as he felt despair flood his body, along with the burning in his eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.

What he feared most had happened. And he would stop at nothing to get you back.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[hannieehaee]

BITE

18+ / mdi

summary: keeping appearances as an idol was already hard enough, but it becomes even worse upon finding a forlorn jeonghan with need of assistance with the company's faulty security system, instantly becoming endeared with the idol who refused to take no for an answer — not that you'd ever want him to.

content: idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, afab reader, small age gap implied, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is mentioned to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 11.7k

a/n: this fic is based on this scenario, except i decided to expand on it and make it into a full fic!!

masterlist | patreon

"Hey, is that Yoon Jeonghan from Seventeen?", asked Minji as she patted your shoulder, finger pointing towards your right.

"Who?", you wondered, attempting to make sense of the distressed man standing in front of the main artist elevators in the building, "Oh, yeah, I think that's him," you said once you spotted his face, deeming it impossible to not recognize a face such as his.

"Why is he just standing there?", she wondered, holding onto your arm in the affectionate manner she usually did, "Do you think it's that elevator thing again?" she faced you to ask.

"What elevator thing?"

"Apparently he went on a variety show and complained about the company's security system. It was a whole controversy, but I guess the facial recognition doesn't work for him for some reason," she informed you before chuckling at the sight of Jeonghan sighing in defeat at yet another failed attempt at utilizing the aforementioned system, "I thought it was a bit, but I guess he was for real."

"Huh," you hummed, having been unaware of the issue. The system worked just fine for you and all your members, so you never had any motive to question it. Your senior, however, had clear issues with the system. Within the two minutes you had noticed his presence, he had already attempted the facial recognition three times, getting rejected every single one of them.

"You should help him," your groupmate suggested, "I would, but my manager will be here soon for my shoot. You only have rehearsals today, right? You're heading that way anyway."

"What? No!" you declined, "I always get anxious around our seniors. I've never even met him," you added, far too shy to even face the pretty boy during his predicament.

Disconnecting from you, she grabbed onto your shoulders, scolding you, "Dude, just go help him! This is how you make connections. You give him a hand and then he gives you one back," she said, physically turning you around so you could face his direction, hands still on your shoulders, "Go! My ride's probably already here anyways. Good luck," she encouraged as she pushed you forward, making you absentmindedly begin walking towards the boy.

Taking a breath, you began to walk towards the boy who seemed to grow more and more frustrated at the faulty security system. The closer you got, the more you could hear his whines in complaint. It appeared that he had taken up a phone call during the time you'd been talking to your friend, frustratedly arguing with whoever was on the other line.

"Seokminnie, c'mon! Just come down! I'll buy you soju after practice," he whined, groaning at whatever response his groupmate had given him in return, "My manager already left ... Yeah .... No! Stop! Just come down! I'm your senior and- Wait! Don't hang up!", he groaned at last upon hearing the classic sound of a disconnected line invade his ears.

It was only then that he seemed to notice your presence, widening his eyes momentarily before offering you a brief bow to acknowledge your presence. Moving aside, he gave you enough space to stand in front of the elevator, quietly awaiting for you to utilize the security system, likely assuming you had not heard his prior predicament. He gestured for you to move forward, acting as if he were being a gentleman in allowing you to go first.

You approached the small facial recognition screen, about to scan your face before turning to him, finding the boy staring at you expectantly, "You need me in order to use the elevator, don't you?", you asked him, amused.

"Huh?", he gaped at you, tsk'ing afterward and making an odd 'Eyyy' sound, "I'm just being a gentleman. Go ahead," he gave you a tight yet amused smile.

You chuckled in return, "Liar," you were surprised at how easy it was to be informal with him, but he was immediately likable, "Ask me to help you and maybe I might," you added, giving him a satisfied smile.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm your senior — Whatever happened to respect?", he joked, tsk'ing at you once more. He proceeded to walk towards you, pushing his face onto the scanner and ignoring your presence altogether, "I'll do it, see," he practically challenged, attempting the scanner once more.

Unsurprisingly, he was met with a red X and a beeping sound that indicated yet another failure to be recognized by the system. This caused him to stand there in silence for a few seconds before whining 'Yah!' and cursing out the security system.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up again, facing you once more, "Sorry about that. Your turn," he gestured to you to move forward again, stepping out of your way.

Both amused and surprised, you decided to finally utilize the scanner on yourself, smiling at him with a satisfied look when it immediately allowed you in. Turning to him, you nodded at him to get in before you, only for him to gesture for you to go first. Something about 'ladies first.'

"You owe me one," you said once you were both in the elevator again, standing side by side as you faced the closing door.

"Nuh-uh. This was just a coincidence. You needed to head upstairs anyways," he rebutted petulantly.

"Yeah? So you don't need me to help you get to your floor, then, right?", you questioned mockingly, knowing he would also have to work the scanner in order to get the door to open to Seventeen's designated floor. There were far too many steps to get to the artists' floors, but it made sense to you by now.

Upon the realization, he groaned, letting himself throw his head back against the wall behind him as he earned a giggle from you. He frowned in your direction at your laugh, though he joined you with a chuckle just mere seconds later.

"Okay, fine. I owe you," he gave up, still leaning against the wall behind but turning his head to look at you, "What can Yoon Jeonghan do for you?"

You pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, finger on your chin as you thought it over, "I have no idea. I'll let you know," you finally responded, "Okay, so, what floor?", you asked as your finger moved to the buttons on the elevator door.

"13th," he responded, now casually leaning back against the wall.

"Oh? The second highest floor. You're an important man, aren't you?", you teased, pressing his button before moving onto your group's number 9.

"Nine?," he gaped, "Seems I'm higher on the company hierarchy than you, yet you show me no respect," he joked back.

"Shut up. I'm going out of my way for you. Senior or not, you owe me. Those are the rules of all civilized society," you argued back.

"Okay, how about," he began, pressing his hands together as if making a proposition, "I see you downstairs every morning bright and early with a fresh cup of coffee in exchange for your face — y'know, for the scanner. How's that sound?", he proposed, a pleased smile on his face at your agape mouth.

"Every morning? Do you not have any friends?", you asked as the elevator continued to move up.

"Do you see anyone here? They all get here before me. You seem pretty friendless. C'mon. Free coffee, good company. I'll even play one of your group's songs in my next Welive. See? Can't get any better than that," he continued to sell his idea as the elevator came to a stop, now at his floor but demanding yet another facial scan to even exit the elevator.

"God, the security's too much," he groaned upon noticing the prompt on the small screen inside the elevator, "C'mon!", he turned to you, "Try to tell me that's not unnecessary."

You gave up, nodding as you chuckled, though not making a move to scan your face.

"Say yes. Please," he dragged the e for an annoyingly long amount of time, grinning when you rolled your eyes but laughed, "I'll keep going. Just agree. What better way to spend your time than with Yoon Jeonghan?"

"What makes you think I even knew that name before today?", you challenged.

"You do. Don't lie to me, it won't work," he smirked back before going back to being annoying again, "Come on-"

"Fine! I'll meet you downstairs every morning expecting a fresh matcha in hand — I don't drink coffee. But you still owe me," you agreed, extending your hand to him to solidify the agreement.

"No coffee? Ew. But okay, deal," he returned your handshake, holding onto your hand for an annoying amount of time, pretending as if he were unaware of when to let go and waiting for you to pull his hand off yours with another eye roll. He chuckled any time he managed to get a reaction out of you, leading you to realize he must be an absolute menace to every person he comes across. Sadly, he was charmingly entertaining, leaving you with no complaints.

Finally, you scanned your face on the screen, letting him walk in front of you to head out. Before the elevator doors could close and separate again, he held his arm out to stop them, nodding towards you.

"What's your name? I like you," he said plainly, head tilted in curiosity.

"Y/N," you said, "Please don't introduce yourself again-"

"Yoon Jeonghan," he interrupted anyways, "Remember that. We'll be having fun in the near future," were his last words before removing his hand and allowing the elevator doors to separate you, likely heading over to his groupmates upon leaving your line of sight.

Silver doors closed in front of you, now leaving you to your own company. Dumbfounded yet amused by the interaction, you stood there as you waited for the elevator to arrive to your floor, robotically scanning your face on the door once you made it there and exiting the square-shaped room upon arrival. There, you stood with the remnant of a shocked smile on your face, surprised at how easy it had been to put any concept of age or seniority aside when interacting with Yoon Jeonghan. While you always had the tendency of being overly formal with your seniors, you had spoken to Jeonghan like you would any guy your age, disregarding formalities as soon as he'd spoken to you.

You didn't truly need any convincing to agree to see him again. On the contrary, had he not suggested as such, you would've remained with an itch to find a reason for a re-encounter. Like any other junior idol at a company with big names such as BTS and Seventeen, developing a slight crush on your seniors was the normalcy — your groupmates Minji and Lila had crushes on BTS' V and Seventeen's Vernon, respectively — and it appeared that you were now joining them in the list of girls with unrequited crushes.

Jeonghan was, what, maybe five or so years older than you? The age difference alone was enough for you to chalk this up to a mindless crush. That, and the kindergarten teacher voice he had put on while speaking to you — clearly he made a very obvious distinction about your age difference right off the bat.

As of now, all you could do was hope to see him again (which, thankfully, you would) and retain the fun back and forth he'd welcomed you in on. Friendzone was one thing, but junior-zone? At least you now had a story to let your members in on next dance practice.

"Hey, it's you again."

"God, announce yourself next time," you groaned, hand clutching your heart at the short-lived shock of Yoon Jeonghan suddenly bumping your shoulder whilst walking down one of the many endless hallways of the Hybe building.

"I said 'hey,'" he shrugged, continuing to walk by your side, "So, where are we going?"

"Who's 'we,'" you scoffed, "I'm going to buy lunch," you said, continuing to walk as he remained by your side.

"Great, I was thinking of getting something to eat too," he agreed, humming to himself afterwards.

"Okay, so I guess we're having lunch together, then," you hummed back, resigned to your senior's company.

"You catch on quickly, I like that," he gave you a closed-lip grin, "We're going to be seeing each other quite often, might as well start now."

Crossing the doors to the cafeteria, you headed to the lunch area to pick up something to eat, Jeonghan following right behind you and annoyingly picking out the same exact lunch as you, piece by piece. You simply looked back at him with a menacing stare, only causing a bigger grin out of him. Once you made it to the cashier area, your hand made its way to your bag with the intent to pull out your card only to be stopped by one Yoon Jeonghan who had been quicker to scan his own. You had had no plans of preventing him from buying his own meal, but you had also not expected him to pay for your own.

"Wait, you don't have to-"

"Too late," he grinned, walking past you before looking over his shoulder and nodding at you to follow him.

Heading over to a two-seater table, you followed him, taking a seat right across from him. The place was empty sans another duo of two idols eating on the opposite side of the large cafeteria, so you didn't feel too strange at the idea of being spotted with a senior idol.

Sitting across from him, you took note of how lax and confident his demeanor was. It must be nice, you thought. It was quite the opposite for you, especially considering the dynamic between you. This wad a first for you — the whole sharing a meal with a senior from one of the groups that inspired you to become an idol in the first place. You had interacted with some of your seniors before, but you had not had the chance of befriending any of them thus far, much less grab their attention in the same way you had caught Jeonghan's.

It made you feel anxious to be one-on-one with him in such an exposed setting. You knew that within the walls of Hybe, interacting with idols was not seen as odd nor would it lead to any sort of scandal, but you also worried that it might seem strange due to your gender and age difference. However, Jeonghan somehow managed to make you feel more relaxed and less proper than you likely would with any other idol.

"What are you thinking about?" he nodded at you as he sipped at his water, interrupting your thoughts.

"Nothing," you replied, beginning to pay mind to the food in front of you, "You didn't have to pay for my meal, by the way."

"You're clearly thinking about something. I can hear those thoughts cooking in there all the way from here," he chuckled, " — and I'm a gentleman and your senior, of course I had to pay," he shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Don't you have friends?", you asked bluntly, forking at your meal as he snickered at you.

"This is the second time you come after my social life, okay ... Ignoring your disrespect, I do have friends. Twelve of them, actually, maybe even more," he informs you in a 'ha, told you so!' type of tone.

Now was your turn to laugh, unable to take him too seriously, "So, does their facial recognition not work either? Are you so annoying they won't share a meal with you?," you tilted your head mockingly.

"You're better company," he shrugged at you, "Not sure how I never noticed you before, but hey, never too late, right?"

"You barely know me," you grumbled.

"Yeah, and I'm working on that. Keep up!", he chastised, tapping the table.

"You're gonna get me into a scandal for hanging out with me so shamelessly," you reminded him, but made no attempt to leave the situation.

"Who's going to see us?", he looked around, spotting the two other people (sans staff) in the room, "Hanjin from TWS? That's my junior, he'd never say a word. Plus, this is just innocent senior-junior fraternizing, don't worry too much," he tsk'd, leaning back against his seat in a relaxed manner once more.

"You're too relaxed for your own good. How have you never been in a scandal before?", you gaped at him, swatting his hand when his hand made its way to your plate, grabbing at a fry, "Are you like this with all your juniors?"

"Oh? You've been keeping up with me? How do you know im scandal-less? And nope, I already told you — I like you."

"Is it surprising to you that I'd keep up with one of the biggest groups in Kpop?," you feigned disinterest, "Okay, if you like me so much, can I drop the honorifics, then?", you tried, matching the amused grin he gave you.

"Hmm," he pondered for a moment, "I'll let you speak to me informally if you make a compromise with me," he paused, waiting for you to nod for him to continue, "I want you to call me oppa," he grinned.

His shit-eating grin reached all the way to his ears, making you scowl at him. Due to your age difference and the overall senior-junior dynamic of your relationship, it was not an ordinary request for a senior to ask you to call him oppa, thus causing his amusement at his own request. Usually, you'd call seniors like him sunbae or by their full name considering that you were nowhere close enough to him to call him oppa, but his grin told you that he'd be far too pleased to have you calling him by that honorific rather than a more formal alternative.

"No," you deadpanned, "Anything else, just-"

"Fine. Since we're officially friends now, you can call me what all my friends call me; Jeonghannie — Hannie if you're feeling particularly friendly," he continued grinning at you with a pleased look in his eye.

"Hold on, since when are we friends?", you chuckled slapping his hand away from your plate once more, "God! Was there any point in buying my meal if you're just gonna keep eating from it?", you groaned, not truly annoyed but still bugged by the man.

"You've got a short fuse," he noted, "That only makes this even more fun, you realize that, right?" he said as he chewed on what were formerly your fries.

"You're going to be trouble for me at some point, aren't you?", you wondered out loud, chuckling at how pleased he was.

"No, you are — trust me," he said almost to himself.

God damn him, was he flirting with you? Throughout the past few hours of knowing him, you'd been pretty sure he just enjoyed banter by nature, not that he was just singling you out in order to flirt with you. Maybe he was just a flirtatious person by nature? Regardless, your original statement was correct — he was going to cause you trouble one way or another.

Unfortunately to all, the rest of your day was not nearly as eventful as the first few hours (courtesy of Yoon Jeonghan). Leaving the artist designated floors did not require face-scanning, so your duties for the man ended quickly after your lunch together.

For the remainder of the day, you engaged in your diligent idol duties as you practiced and recorded with your groupmates. You'd hoped to catch another glimpse of the flirtatious boy who had caught your attention earlier, but you went home without any more contact. You would've been disheartened by this had you not known he'd be waiting for you by the elevators the following morning.

You had chosen not to tell your bandmates about your interactions with Jeonghan. Although he had been right about you being safe to interact with each other inside the walls of Hybe, you were only on your first year after debut, so the paranoia of insisting your first scandal was far too big to risk anything. Still, you were not about to actually deny him of more time spent together; you'd grown to enjoy his company too much for that.

In your seemingly endless train of thought, you're startled by the sudden presence next to you as you stand by the Hybe elevators. You'd arrived at the same time you had yesterday, assuming Jeonghan would also be present as he was the day prior. After waiting for ten minutes, you were rewarded with another mini heart attack caused by him.

"You're kinda skittish, aren't you?", he laughed, hand giving you a pat on the shoulder as a form of greeting, "Waited for me long?"

"Nope," you responded, turning to look at him, finding him holding two cups on a single, strangely large hand, "Is that my matcha?", you asked, hand reaching out to grab it from him only to be met with resistance from the boy.

"Aht aht," he chastised, "No 'good morning'? No 'you look really handsome today, oppa'? Where did your manners go?", he bit his lip in amusement at himself (and likely at the scowl that formed on your face).

"Yoon Jeonghan, if you don't give me that damn drink I'm leaving you stranded down here," you threatened, snatching the drink from his hand and sipping it with annoyance.

"You wouldn't," he mocked, "Anyways, go on," he gestured for you to step forward in order to scan your face, raising his eyebrows when you didn't make a move to help, "I can get even more annoying," he threatened.

"Fine," you grumbled, scanning your face and stepping into the elevator.

Once settled inside the small box, Jeonghan stood next to you, taking micro side steps in order for his shoulder to brush against yours. When that didn't get your attention, he opted to clear his throat, chuckling at the glimpse of an eye roll he got from where he was standing. As a last effort, his shoulder bumped yours in a more notorious way, finally grabbing your annoyed attention.

"What?," you hissed.

"Okay, first of all, let's calm down. Second of all, I need your face for a little longer today," he winced at your reaction, "I know, I know, but you promised," he reminded you.

"I never promised anything," you scowled, although interested in the idea of seeing him outside of the elevator again, "What do you want?"

"Just need to stop by to see Mingyu in floor 11 for a few minutes — Mingyu, you know him, right? All your friends are probably crushing on him, everyone is. Anyways, it'll be just five minutes and then I'll leave you alone," he went on, hand on your shoulder as he gave you those gigantic and irresistible bug eyes of his.

"What if I'm busy?", you asked, knowing you truly weren't.

"You're not. Senior or not, you would've already told me to fuck myself if I were getting in the way of your work," he said with confidence.

"Fine," you sighed as you dragged out the e, pressing the correct button in order to take Jeonghan to his destination. The elevator ride was short but taken up by Jeonghan making short quips in order to make you laugh. Unfortunately, he was too naturally charismatic for his own good.

Finally stopping at the correct floor, Jeonghan got off the elevator while you remained inside, thinking that maybe it was a good idea to just wait for him in there. This wasn't a common hour for other idols to head in or out of the building anyway, so the elevators would likely remain unused while you waited.

Jeonghan had a different idea, however, standing at the entrance of the elevator as he looked back at you expectantly, nodding his head for you to follow him. When you silently shook your head at him, he groaned annoyingly, reaching to grab onto your hand and pull you to him.

"If you wanted me to hold your hand so badly you could've just said so," he mocked, squeezing it as he pulled you to him. You attempted to let go of his hand, but his grip was too harsh. It's not that you didn't want to hold it, but more like you were too nervous to do so, which he likely caught on to but didn't care for.

"What, scared someone will see us?", he snickered, "Would it be that terrible to be spotted holding hands with me? I'd be the best dating scandal of your life," he giggled, voice growing louder when you laughed along with him, "Oh! A smile? So you do like me, huh?"

"God, are you this flirty with everyone?", you groaned, squeezing his hand extra hard until he winced, giggling at your attempt to harm him.

"You're just fun to rile up," he confessed, leading you to a door you'd never seen before, "This is a shared studio a few Seventeen members use. Ever met any of them?", he asked as he stopped in front of the door, still not letting go of your hand.

"Am I meeting them now?", your eyes widened, "We did a dance challenge with Seungkwan and Vernon, but that's it," you revealed, using the correct honorifics for both that you did not use for Jeonghan.

"So formal. Cute," he snickered, "Well, you're about to meet a few more. Don't be nervous," he started, "If you're able to keep up with me, they'll like you. You're hard not to like," he smiled in a comforting way, not snickering at you for the first time ever.

Before you could respond, the door opened from the other side, revealing who you knew to be Boo Seungkwan of Seventeen with an annoyed scowl on his face, only dropping it upon seeing you.

"Yah! Yoon Jeongha- Oh, hi!", he interrupted himself halfway through his nagging as soon as he saw you, eyes going from Jeonghan's to yours to your interlocked hands, causing his head to tilt in curiosity, "We've met, right?," he bowed, uttering your name and offering you a smile, "Are you holding her hostage?", he asked towards Jeonghan, noting his tight grip on your hand.

"This is my new friend," Jeonghan introduced you despite Seungkwan having already said your name, gesturing towards your interlocked hands, "She's helping me out lately."

Without further explanation, Seungkwan moved aside in order to let the two of you in. Throughout it all, Jeonghan refused to let go of your hand, toying with your fingers at times. Inside were three more members who you could recognize to be Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo and Lee Jihoon. As a fresh junior in the company, the name of every single senior was common knowledge to you. Not only was Seventeen a huge name in the industry, but they were one of the biggest names within the company itself. You'd also spotted their loud interactions throughout the building a few times in the past.

— This was one of the reasons as to why your heart began going a mile a minute the moment you walked in to the room to find the three men (along with Jeonghan and Seungkwan) staring at you with a curious look in their eye.

Bowing at every member, you meep'd out a quick 'hello' and stalked behind Jeonghan, who only chuckled at your shy demeanor, "Don't be shy. They don't bite," he squeezed your hand.

"Uh, Jeonghan? Do you have a hostage?", asked Wonwoo, reaching out to you to shake your free hand in introduction, "Hi, I'm Wonwoo. Sorry about him," he gestured towards Jeonghan with a chuckle.

"Your emotional support toys weren't enough? Upgraded to a human now?", Mingyu joined in, also offering you a handshake, "I saw your group's last comeback. Great job," he praised, offering you a genuine smile.

Jihoon remained silent as he sat with his eyes glued to his equipment, simply humming and nodding along to every statement leaving their lips. He seemed slightly disinterested, but not rude about it. Jihoon appeared more so amused by Jeonghan's shenanigans, not questioning your presence whilst remaining welcoming of it.

"I'm just here to record my part. Jihoon's been nagging me for a week," he whined, moving to drop himself on the couch and pulling you along with him by the hand. Your interlocked hands began to become clammy, but Jeonghan made no move nor mention to fix that, so you simply ignored it too.

"You're mean," said Wonwoo, "Be mindful of your junior, she looks nervous," he scolded lightheartedly, "You okay? Want a water or something? Did he just steal you or is there a story behind this?", he nodded towards your hands, voice soothing your nerves.

They were all overly likable, which made sense considering their decade-long career as idols. Their fan service must be amazing, you thought to yourself.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan interrupted, "I'm borrowing her face for the scanner in the artists' elevator," he explained, "It's an exchange of goods and services, no hostages here," he nodded to himself, "And we're new best friends, clearly," he grinned as he gestured to your hands, squeezing once again.

Seungkwan chuckled, "There'd be no need for that if you just rode with me in the mornings," he rolled his eyes, taking a seat to the other side of you on the couch.

"You get up at four in the morning, I'm not insane," whined Jeonghan, "and this way I get to hang out with my new friend. Win-win."

You gave a tight-lipped smile in response, rolling your eyes at him and earning a chuckle from the other boys in the room.

"You're going to have to let go of her hand to go into the recording room," Jihoon spoke up, turning around on his chair to look at Jeonghan on the couch and chuckling lowly when his reaction was an exaggerated groan.

"I take what I said back; you are a hostage. Don't leave, I'll be right back," he turned to you before heading over to the small recording room located inside the studio.

Laughing, you nodded, settling comfortably on the couch as you watched him from your spot. The other two men who remained standing made their way to the couch sitting near you as Wonwoo handed you a cold water bottle with a smile. Meanwhile, you watched Jeonghan head into the room, making his way to the mic and putting on the large headphones hanging nearby.

With a few coughs to clear his throat, he began harmonizing with the melody Jihoon turned on as soon as he stepped foot in the small room. Jeonghan's voice immediately flowed perfectly with the music, following Jihoon's directions to perfection as he recorded the lines instructed to him. You were completely distracted by the sight of him in his element that you were unable to pay attention to your surroundings. There were no nerves in you at your current predicament when you were so absorbed by him.

But as soon as he started singing, he finished, letting out another loud cough before exiting the room and making his way to your side again, practically demanding your hand once more.

"They were right," he nodded once you gave him your hand, looking down at you from your seat on the couch, "You're my new emotional support object, sorry," he shrugged, helping you up by pulling at your hand.

With goodbyes as quick as your introduction had been, Jeonghan led you to the door before being interrupted by Jihoon speaking up, "Bring her around more often. You were way more efficient and less annoying this time," he hummed to himself, laughing when Seungkwan began to laugh at his statement. Before you could leave, Seungkwan offered you a hug, though your hand remained on Jeonghan's.

Once in the hallway, Jeonghan turned to you and laughed, "They like you," he sing-sang, "Guess I get to keep you around."

"Is it up to me at all?", you huffed half-heartedly.

"Nope. Let's go," he grinned once more, pulling another laugh from you.

Jeonghan's shenanigans and your daily meetings every morning continued very consistently. It was rare when you'd show up at the elevators at the exact same agreed time and not find him there waiting for you with a drink in hand.

Your interactions only grew more and more friendly with time, with you rolling your eyes at him time and time again and him insisting on dragging you with him for other errands every so often. Fortunately, the news of you two being on friendly terms did not seem to go past a few other idols in the building. Strangely enough, it was rare to actually bump into other artists in the vast space that Hybe covered.

Only a few weeks into knowing Jeonghan and the annual Hybe Game Caterers event came up. This was something he brought up occasionally whilst sharing an elevator ride with you — and even through text every so often, as he had charmed you for your phone number just a few days in.

Being Hybe's newest group, you couldn't help the nerves you felt in appearing at Hybe's second ever Game Caterers event. With big names such as Seventeen, BTS, TXT and such, you felt completely out of your league even being present. You knew it was an amazing opportunity to get new audiences interested in your group, but you barely knew any other groups or idols on a personal level. It wasn't as if you could stalk behind Jeonghan during the event, which meant you'd simply have to rely on your own charm in order to gain some screen time.

Jeonghan, in the meantime, insisted you team up with him in any games that may allow for it. Despite your insistence that he pretend not to know you during the event, he'd cackle and promise he'd make sure to gift you some of his own screen time — how? he didn't explain, which made you even more anxious at the idea.

Once the day of the games came, you felt far more relaxed. This was your first time seeing such popular faces so up close, not having had the chance to attend any comeback shows nor award shows at the same time as the bigger names in Kpop. However, despite all nerves you could've felt, they were all far too charismatic, making you realize that Jeonghan's personality was simply an outlier; he had his own charm, but overall he was a menace to your sanity.

He continued to prove this to you throughout the event, constantly keeping his eyes on you and winking any time it was his turn to do something that might entertain you. Unfortunately for yourself, it worked every time, making you cackle at all his dumb acts for your attention.

That was not where he stopped, however. It seemed as if Jeonghan wanted people to know he was seeking out reactions from you. Occasionally, he'd walk over to your group's table, sitting with you all too casually, earning some nervous giggles from your group mates. He played this out by dragging Seungkwan with him and hitting a few other tables afterward. However, you knew his goal had been to be in close proximity with you.

The worst of all had been when teams were assigned randomly, in which Jeonghan had somehow managed to cheat in order to be placed in your team. You were unsure how exactly he had managed to do this, but from your understanding it seemed like his groupmate, Joshua, had gotten assigned to your team, only to be nagged into giving away his spot to Jeonghan.

And so now you stood in a single file line with a red vest laying on your chest, matching with that of Yoon Jeonghan's, who was standing right behind you with a pleased smile on his face.

"Jeonghan," you groaned, turning around to finally acknowledge his presence.

"What?", he feigned dumb, doing his classic cackle at your annoyed expression.

"You really want to ruin my career, don't you?", you scowled, squinting your eyes over the heavy sun shining from behind Jeonghan.

Detecting your discomfort from the sun, Jeonghan grabbed onto your shoulders, side stepping the two of you until it hit his face rather than yours. No word is uttered about his act of kindness as he continued to grin at you in a satisfied manner.

"I'm helping you, c'mon," he tsk'd, "Ever watched Going Seventeen? Well— Okay, don't make that face, I know you've seen it, all of Korea has seen it. I can win you any game and get you all the screen time possible," he held his pinky up to you, nudging you until you budged and intertwined yours with his own, "Then you'll be, uh, what are you, fourth gen?," he waited for your reluctant nod, "Okay, you'll be fourth gen's It Girl," his hand went up to ruffle your hair, earning something akin to a growl from you, "We'll be the inter-generational It Couple."

"Couple?," you tilted your head in wonder, "You're an idiot," you murmured, having a hard time hiding your smile at his masterplan.

"It was bound to happen. This whole 'will they won't they' thing we have going on is too good to pass up on," he continued, "C'mon, let's use today as a test-run," he insisted, earning another annoyed reaction from you, this time in the form of a half-hearted fist bump. With one last 'Eyyy' from him, he turned back around to pay attention to the rules of the following game.

Various games came and went, with some being in co-ed groups and others within your already-established groups, but with all of them (without fail) involving some sort of interaction between you and Jeonghan. Continuously aware of the cameras recording, you worried about how your constant interactions would be taken by audiences once the show was edited and posted, but his easy-going disposition made it difficult for you to actually do anything about it.

By the time the recording was over, Jeonghan had made it clear to all his members and yours (and anyone who was paying attention, really) that he had some sort of interest in you. No words nor statements had been needed as his actions made his intentions extremely obvious. You'd received a few teasing glances from his group mates at times (though you were sure they were probably meant for the man in question), making you shy away from Jeonghan, but he never strayed away for too long.

The aftermath of the show was different for everyone involved. Some groups left for other schedules while others went out for a meal with a few staff members. Then there was Jeonghan, who had decided to skip out on a meal with his friends and staff in order to stalk after you and your own group, not saying a word as he followed you to the entrance of Hybe, disregarding any teasing giggles coming from your groupmates. You'd occasionally look back at him, rolling your eyes at him as you held back an entertained smile.

Even as you got into the elevator, he silently followed with a pleased smile, still not speaking a word to justify his presence. It wasn't until your groupmates got off the elevator that Jeonghan actively tried to catch your attention by physically holding you back from exiting the elevator, waving your friends goodbye for you as the doors closed behind them.

With his arms wrapped around your middle, he practically bear-hugged you in order to keep you from leaving, laughing when you half-heartedly attempted to make it out of his hold in order to escape.

"You don't really wanna leave, stop fighting it," he whined, letting you go when you finally halted your attempts, groaning jokingly at his victory.

"Why'd you kidnap me this time?", you asked once you turned around to face him.

He shrugged, "I dunno. Company? Take us to my floor. I have some ramen and beer stashed away in the dressing room," he coerced, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're bribing me with food again," you noted, crossing your arms as you pretended to mull it over.

"Well, it appears like that's the only way to get you to hang out with me," he booped your nose, giggling when you scowled at him.

"You have that hard of a time getting girls to give you attention?"

"Hah," he exclaimed, "Girls love me. Not my fault the one I'm into needs to be coerced into spending time with me," he said as the most casual statement uttered by man.

He appeared entirely unaffected by his statement, as if this was not news to you. His flirting had gotten more and more blatant throughout the short time you'd known him, but he had never professed his affections so blatantly. It made sense for him to be so forward now that he had shown everyone his clear interest in you, but having the words said to your face still made you lose your breath for a short moment.

"Ah, speechless, huh?", he grinned, "You can't tell me this comes as a surprise to you," he tilted his head to the side in curiosity, "You're a smart girl, c'mon," he took a few short steps to you, hand coming to push your hair out of your face as you continued to stare at him with a semi-shocked look in your face.

Still inside a closed, yet unmoving elevator, you smacked his hand away in a friendly yet bratty matter, making him chuckle, "Stop, you're gonna get me in trouble," you complained.

Stepping even closer to you, he backed you against a wall, the grin on his face never leaving him. Meanwhile, your brain was overriding itself in figuring out how to react. You let him back you against the wall whilst his hands remained to his sides, not actually caging you and allowing you escape if you really wished for it. Leaning down a bit, he stood face to face with you, once again pushing your hair out of your face before running a lone finger down your cheek as he pouted down at you, cooing in a way some may read as condescending, but actually loving coming from someone like Jeonghan.

"You know that if you actually tell me to fuck off, I will, right?" he muttered, eyes fluttering for the first time ever. His eye contact was usually unmatched, but this time his eyes seemed to begin getting hooded; likely due to the proximity of your faces.

"Yes," you nodded quietly, breath caught in your throat.

"And you know if you stop me right now, I won't go through with this, right?", he followed up, face somehow even closer.

"Uh-huh," you nodded again, eyes matching his own hooded ones.

Nodding to himself, he grinned for a split second before closing the gap, soft and slow in his movements as he pressed his lips to your awaiting ones. The kiss was a mere peck at first, lacking any fluidity or movement. It took your reciprocation for it to become something more, as Jeonghan waited for your arms to make their way to his flat chest before he finally put his hands on you, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you to him.

Finally, his lips moved, opening and wrapping around yours, tongue entering your mouth and coaxing yours to play with his own. Soft yet high sighs left his lips as he hummed into your mouth, kissing you in a way far too sensual for an elevator located in your shared workplace.

A large hand went up to your cheek, holding it delicately as he tilted your face upwards in order to gain optimal access to your mouth. Similarly, your hands traveled north, finding their way to his long hair and pulling at it every time he did something particularly enticing with his tongue. Without your hands on his chest, the empty space between you was reduced when he pulled you closer in order to press your chests together, sighing when he felt your hardened nipples through your lack of bra.

Before it could go too far, however, the menace of a man decided to pull away, chuckling when you followed his lips, still in the daze he'd put you in.

"You didn't push me away," he whispered with a breathy laugh, thumb playing with your bottom lip up until you childishly nibbled at it, getting a 'Yah!' from him and another laugh.

"Count your blessings, I still could," you challenged, knowing you did not mean it at all.

"Are you sure?", he leaned close once more, "So you don't want me to do this again?" he murmured as he lightly pressed his lips to yours again, immediately putting you in another daze.

He pulled away even quicker this time around, laughing at the defeated look on your face at your lack of ability to staying true to your word when it concerned him.

"That's what I thought," chuckled Jeonghan, finally putting some decent space between you, "So, ramen and beer?", he asked, holding his hand up as an offer for you to hold it, humming with a smile when you grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.

"Ramen and beer," you agreed, unable to hold back a smile as you stood side by side once again.

"Ever gonna let me take you on a date outside of this place?", asked Jeonghan a few days after that day in the elevator.

No more kissing had occurred between the two of you, though hand holding remained pretty present in your relationship — though that was a strong word to use. His flirting continued to get worse, and so did the attention he gave you around staff and other idols, but he had not kissed you again nor had he done anything you'd expect from someone who had been quite adamant about his intentions with you.

You hadn't questioned it, simply enjoying it when he did things slightly out of your comfort zone in order to demonstrate his interest. Could you be blamed? It was The Yoon Jeonghan who was after you, after all.

But a few days had been more than enough to drive you up a wall.

Spending almost every day in that elevator with him, at such close proximity, — pondering about when the next kiss would be — was driving you insane. It was obvious to you by now that he wanted you to make the first move when it came to that area of your relationship. As far as he was concerned, he'd simply continue to buy you meals and take up your time (and mind) as much as possible.

This was why you completely ignored his initial question and rebutted with your own.

"Date? When are you going to explain that kiss?," you practically defied him, staring him down as he gave you one of his usual satisfied smiles.

"Explain it? I wanted to kiss you, so I did," he shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth before mouth-feeding you one, "If you want more of that, you're going to have to let me take you on a date."

"Jeonghan," you began, "You know we can't do anything outside these walls. If we get spotted, we're fucked," you stated the obvious.

"C'mon, just let me make you dinner in my apartment. I'll even kick Seungkwan out so we can have some privacy," he smirked, hand reaching out to yours in order to try and entice you further.

"Are you propositioning yourself to me?", you smiled at him, mouth open and tongue touching the roof of your mouth in amusement.

"Good, you're catching on," he smirked to himself, taking a short pause to cough as a way to clear his throat, shaking his head and trying again, "I meant as a date. I'm not that crude."

You sighed again, "Fine," you began, rolling your eyes at the way his face suddenly lit up, "but you have to actually make me dinner. If I show up and there's no candlelit dinner on your table, I'm leaving," you threatened jokingly, unable to picture Jeonghan hosting a date so fancy. He pegged you more as the casual date type of guy.

"Candlelit? I can work with that. Wear something pretty for me then," he added as a condition, poking you with his chopstick to emphasize his point, "If I'm making a fancy dinner, then we need to look the part.

"Okay, then wear something other than sweats. I swear I've never seen you wear anything that's not three times your size," you pointed out his usual fashion style, even referring to this moment in which he was wearing an oversized shirt and oversized sweats to match.

"I'll dress up for you, baby, no need to beg," his lips drew up into a smirk that seemed to never leave his lips for too long, putting down his chopsticks in favor of offering you his pinky, "I'll have my driver take us tomorrow after you're done at the company," he said as you linked fingers, pressing his thumb against your own.

"You better not ruin my career, Yoon Jeonghan," left your mouth, though with mere entertainment in your tone.

~

"God, you took it really seriously, didn't you?" you gaped at the dapper Yoon Jeonghan standing in front of you, holding the door open as he reached for your hand in order to let you in.

At the end of the day, your plan had changed a bit, deciding that Jeonghan needed some extra time to get the meal and himself ready for you, and that he wanted you to have time to 'doll yourself up for him' (his words, not yours). And so you went home the following day, took an embarrassing three hours to dress up as pretty as you could — as that strange feminine urge to groom yourself to perfection took over — and had your driver drop you off at the luxury apartment you knew Jeonghan and Seungkwan shared at around 8pm.

The first thing that welcomed you into his home was Jeonghan himself, except he looked very different. You had seen pictures and videos of him dressed to the nines for music videos, awards shows, you name it, but you had never seen the man so insanely put together in the flesh until this moment. Yoon Jeonghan was always a sight to behold, no matter if he was makeup-less and donning a messing man-bun, but the sight in front of you left your mouth agape. He had decided to go for a three-piece suit (too fancy for your taste, but that was likely his intent), chuckling when you rolled your eyes at the bowtie. His makeup was done and his hair beautifully styled. The jury was out on who had out-dressed the other (though it was likely it was Jeonghan).

"Okay, so no bowtie?", he giggled as he closed the door behind you, ripping it off with an ease that was only achievable due to the fact that it was apparently a clip-in and not a real bowtie. As per usual, this caused you to laugh, achieving the goal of its presence.

His hand made its way to your lower back, leading you further into his house as he walked you. It took him an appalling thirty seconds to move closer to you and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked, granting you a moment of full sincerity with zero banter behind it.

You'd chosen to don a red slip dress, with a red lip and winged eyeliner to match. It wasn't too elegant of a look, but it was perfect for either a candlelit dinner or a night clubbing; you went for versatility, unsure of Jeonghan's unpredictable behavior.

Before you could thank him or blush at his comment, you'd completed the short distance to his dining room that had been just one room away from the entrance. The sight made any other reaction from his compliment leave you, distracting you completely.

It wasn't too elegant nor abnormal for a candlelit dinner, but it still surprised you that Jeonghan had actually followed along with what you'd meant as simple banter — he had actually cooked you and amazing-smelling dinner and lit a few candles throughout the room.

"Dude, this is too much," you gaped, turning back to him, only to be trapped by his arms wrapping around your waist. There was a pleased smile on his face at your astonished reaction.

"You challenged me," he said, eyes squinting at you, "You know better than to challenge me," it was said in a serious tone, though fully in jest, "Can I tell you that you look beautiful again, or would that be cheesy?"

"You can say it as many times as you want," you gave into him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, pulling him a little lower in your direction. He accepted this with no complaint, intertwining his own hands around the small of your back.

"God, stop looking at me like that," he groaned at the smile you were giving him as you looked up at him, his hands continuing to run up and down the small of your back, clearly picking it as a favorite part of your body at the moment.

"Why? What are you gonna do about it?", you challenged him.

"It might've taken me two hours and one extinguisher to cook that dinner, but I'd be willing to let it go to waste," he warned, front teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip as he stared you down with defiance in his eyes.

You pouted petulantly at him, giving in to his banter for the nth time, "Oh, so you really were propositioning yourself to me the other day, huh?", you cocked your head to the side, raising your brows in challenging manner, "I thought this was meant to be a date and nothing more?"

His hands tightened around you, pulling you close enough for your chests to rub together, huffing out an annoyed breath, "Believe it or not, I don't have enough ingenious in me to keep this conversation going forever. Are you going to let me kiss you or are you going to force us through a subpar dinner I burnt three separate times?", he whined, chuckling halfway through when you giggled at his statement.

"I'm not stopping you," you murmured, leaning up and rubbing your nose against his own as if to dare him to take action.

Never a man to back away from a challenge, Jeonghan's speech ended there, closing the gap between you as his lips landed on your own with a mixture of sensuality and roughness. Loyal to their fidgeting habits, his hands remained on your hips, fingers squeezing the plush there every so often as you let out tiny breaths into his mouth.

It was embarrassing to count the times you'd thought about kissing him ever since that first time, having it invade your mind more often than not in the short period of time between then and now. The soft sounds he'd made into your mouth and the touches of his hands had been imprinted in you, making you silently and pathetically yearn for more as he continued his usual flirtations. Finally arriving at a point where he finally had you completely alone and with no distance imaginable, you let yourself go into the kiss, hoping it would go further than last time. The circumstances were more than agreeable this time around, anyway.

Seemingly, Jeonghan agreed with your silent pleas, slowly walking you over to the couch located somewhere in the large combination of dining room and living room inside his apartment. No words were exchanged, as they would've interrupted the consistent locking of lips, but your gasp was still registered by him when you suddenly felt yourself dip and be manhandled into lying horizontally on the couch.

Now lying down, it was easy for Jeonghan to truly invade all your senses. Still fully clothed, he laid on top of you, knees settling on both sides of your hips as to not lay his entire weight on you. The locking of lips did not seize, continuing as you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. The cocky man chuckled into your mouth at how insistent you seemed in kissing him, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. He had opted for close-mouthed kisses, making you groan at every silent denial for you to deepen the kiss.

"Stop being a little shit," you groaned when he refused to let your tongue enter his mouth for the nth time.

"You want me sooo bad," he grinned, kissing at your cheek as your eyes rolled once more.

"Are you going to be this annoying when you're inside me?," your head turned to the side, making you be the one to avoid his kisses this time around, but that didn't bode well for the boy.

"Yah," he whined, "It's not fun when you do it. Just let me kiss you," he slurred, repositioning himself slightly to let his hips find the height of your own, finally kissing you how you'd been wanting. He disconnected his lips momentarily just a few seconds after, pushing his hips against yours decidedly, "And, for the record, I'll be everything but annoying while I'm fucking you," he murmured as his last words.

That's when his kiss became intense and decided, exploring every inch of your mouth while his hips chased your own with a passion you did not believe Jeonghan could possess. He'd always seemed like the lazier of his members, like he'd he the type to lay back and unbuckle his pants for whoever was lucky enough to get him in bed. However, he had proved to you time and time again that he was actively interested in pursuing you — especially now as he held onto your legs, wrapping them around his waist to ensure his hardness could hit perfectly against the very thin cloth of the panties under your ridden up dress.

"Fuck, you already feel so good," he rasped, lips finding your neck, "Take this pretty dress off for me, yeah?", he nudged at the strap of your dress with his nose, kissing the bare skin he found there.

With only a nod and a whine from you, he got to business, hands reaching behind your back as you arched it to grant him access, blindly unzipping it and lowering the straps from your arms whilst still laying down. An uncharacteristically low groan left him upon discovering your lack of bra, making him look to you with a pained look in his eye before dipping down to kiss at your breasts.

Nimble fingers graced the length of your arms, creating goosebumps in their wake as they one of them reached your breast while the other squeezed at your hip intermittently. One of your breasts was trapped by his hand, the nipple tortured by his thumb while your other breast suffered through licks and nips from his mouth. Heavy sighs were breathed out against your tit m, mixed with the occasional groan as his hips continued canting onto your own. Your dress was uncomfortably bunching at your middle, but it remained in the back of your mind as Jeonghan occupied the rest of it.

It didn't take long for you to grow frustrated at the lack of nudity demonstrated by the man on top of you. Your hands mindlessly pulled at his suit jacket and began pulling it off, only getting it down to his elbows due to his lack of aid in removing it. Next was his button-up, which you fully unbuttoned as his lips came back up to your own, chuckling at your insistence. Once almost undressing him, he finally disconnected your lips, hastily throwing off his top and unbuttoning his pants. He looked down at you with heavy lids as he pulled his pants low enough to uncover his thighs and remain in nothing but his boxers. Next came your panties, which he slowly traced his the tips of his fingers, toying at your puffy cunt through the fabric long enough for you to release a few tortured whines.

"Jeonghan!", you scolded, getting a snicker from him before he actually aided you in the removal of your panties. Lifting your hips, you silently instructed him to throw off your dress the rest of the way, now fully nude under him.

The last piece of clothing separating you were his boxers, much to your despair. Your ached to reach up to a kneeling Jeonghan who continued to stand almost completely still above you, hand pressing at his cock through the cloth as he peered at you as if he wanted to swallow you whole.

"Are you going to do anything?", you complained from under him, hands attempting to reach his cock but being prevented by him, too occupied in taking you in to allow you to touch him.

"I'm enjoying the sight," he hummed, eyes taking turns between your open legs, damp breasts and desperate eyes, "God, I don't even know where to start," he groaned, sounding genuinely pained.

Pained? You could work with that. Maybe this was your turn to tease him as he always did ti you.

Sitting up as best you could whilst under him, you reached up to him, running your hands from his pelvis to his chest, fingers shyly pinching at his nipples. Your mouth found his neck, licking its way to his ear to nibble at the lobe. Within seconds Jeonghan was putty under you, with one of his hands wrapping around you to pull you closer. You kissed sensually at his ear, whispering unspeakable filth into it that had him groaning. Tilting your head to the side, you took a peak at his face. He had a satisfied yet pained look painting his pretty features. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth agape, hiccuping a groan at your words.

"Should've known you were filthy," he grunted, burying his face in your neck, helping you back into your lying position so he could truly bury himself in you, "It's in your eyes ... Always looked at me like you wanted me to take you right in that elevator," he added, hands coming down to messily rid himself of his boxers.

His hips were leveled with your own, almost touching your cunt but not just yet. Without thinking, you canted your hips upward, managing to get his hardness to grace at your cunt just perfectly. This drew a matching groan from both your lips, making Jeonghan cough halfway through his dirty talk.

"Oh, you're that desperate? Okay, pretty, I'll fuck you. Don't need to beg me so much," he mocked, positioning himself to finally enter you, but unable to help himself in teasing your clit with his tip for a few moments in order to draw just a couple more cries from you. With a chuckle, he finally began entering you, gasping a silent groan at the feeling of finally being enveloped by you.

"God," he grumbled, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure, "Tell me when I can move," he practically pleaded.

"Just move," you whined, "It's already good."

Your green light was all he needed to begin pumping in and out of you, gasping out praise every so often. His hands remained on your hips, squeezing at the skin whenever it felt extra good to fuck into you. Clammy skin and lewd sounds of slapping took up all your senses, making you almost miss Jeonghan's words as he began low rambles into your ear.

"Do you even know how long I've wanted you?", he started, breath heavy against your ear, making you want to bury yourself in his skin, "Always wanted to talk to you, but- fuck- but the guys told me I shouldn't as- as your senior," he stuttered in between groans, "But I couldn't let my chance pass when you helped me that day ... We just clicked," he confessed, groaning loudly when you tightened at his unexpected confession.

"Han ...", you sighed, gripping his shoulders as if your life depended on it, "I, fuck, really?"

He nodded against you, kissing the skin he could reach, "I like you so much, you have no idea," he continued, speeding up his hips, "Tell me you like me back," he whined with a bit of humor in his voice. It was impossible for him to let things become too serious for too long — something you really liked about him.

"I like you, Hannie," you humored him, using the nickname he'd asked you to use all those weeks ago, giggling in between sighs of pleasures when he groaned at it.

"Don't call me that right now, you're so mean," he whined, biting lightly at your skin in defiance, "I'm trying to make this fun for you."

"Then keep fucking me," you insisted, "Hannie," you couldn't help but add with a girlish and exaggerated moan.

"You're provoking me? Really? Again? Okay, brat," he huffed, hands finding the back of your legs to wrap them higher on his waist, ensuring his cock could now piston in and out of you in a way that had your eyes rolling back.

Despite his lazy persona, he was a beast as he fucked you, specially after you'd invoked that bratty side of him that couldn't allow you to out-brat him. It was toe-curling to think about how having you under him provoked this side of him to come out; the side that made him lose all inhibitions and break him down to his most animalistic desires as he fucked you. Any lack of energy was replaced by a stamina that made the slapping of skin so embarrassingly loud you couldn't help but blush. That, combined with his nonexistent shyness in letting out every moan threatening to leave his lips made it the most pleasurable experience for you.

"Sound so pretty ... You're driving me crazy," he grunted in a pained chuckle, "Gonna make me cum ... Fuck, come with me? Yeah, pretty? Need to feel you cum around me before I fill you up," he rambled, hand suddenly sneaking between your bodies and attacking your clit without any warning. You could no longer banter with him, too drunk on the feeling to vocalize anything other than mewls of pleasure.

Jeonghan's hips combined with the feeling of his fingers assaulting your clit were all you needed to lose yourself to your orgasm, almost dragging him down with you as you tightened around him.

"F-fuck, you're cumming? Is it that good, baby? Shit, took it so good for me, hmm?", he continued talking you through it, humming back a groan when you tightened just enough for him to reach his own high, "O-oh, God ... C-cumming, shit. Where?", he was frantic in asking, his gigantic eyes growing two times bigger as he looked to yours for guidance, eyebrows furrowing further at every passing second his orgasm threatened to take him down.

"Inside, H-hannie," you sighed out, mellowing out from your former orgasm. Another whine exited your lips at the breathiest cry leaving the pretty boy above you, whining out desperate praise at the privilege it was to cum inside you. It was likely Jeonghan knew about the birth control idols were usually put under, but his reaction told you he was appreciative nonetheless.

"So fucking good .... God, you're so good, so pretty, so perfect," the praise was endless, making you want to be the sole cause of his pleasure until the end of time.

Once finally emptied out, his energetic persona died out quite quickly, instantly morphing himself to your side as he nudged you aside to make space for him on the couch. Being large enough to fit you both, you snuggled together, Jeonghan nuzzling that pointy nose into your hair as you two regained consciousness. It was amusing how easily he morphed into his usual touchy and lazy persona just seconds after fucking you an inch of your life.

"Hmph," he hummed into your skin, nuzzling so much it seemed he was trying to enter your skin, "You're soft after sex, y'know that?", he thought out loud, leaving mindless kisses behind.

"You're so weird," you huffed, jokingly pushing him away but adoring the warmth that pooled in your heart at his whine in complaint, accompanied by him pulling you even closer.

"Yeah, but you like me weird," he reminded you.

You allowed a beat or two of silence to consume you before turning further toward his side, cuddling into him in as the comfort between lovers after sex invaded the room.

"Did you mean what you said?"

He hummed questioningly, too lost in the comfort to think back to what you meant.

"Did you like me before we met in that elevator?", your voice was meek, reminiscent of those mere five minutes of shyness you felt when you first met Jeonghan, soon overtaken by the natural comfort his presence brought upon such a short time.

"Yeah," he stated simply, "Seungkwan sent me a video of your group covering one of our songs in your debut showcase and I thought you were cute," he chuckled fondly at the memory, "Then I saw you at the company a few times and thought you were the cutest thing," he booped your nose annoyingly, "I wasn't planning on doing anything about it, but like I said, we clicked. You looked shy, but the moment I spoke to you, you were fed up of my shit. I liked that about you," he hummed.

You couldn't help laughing at that, "You liked me because I was rude to you?"

"I mean, it's not often that my juniors speak to me like that. It's always so formal," he blegh'd in an exaggerated manner, "I can't really explained it. It was just a gut feeling, y'know?"

You thought back to how comfortable you felt in his presence that first day, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I know," you smiled as you reached over to find his lips, pecking them sweetly.

"Dinner's probably gone bad by now, by the way," he spoke up after the kiss, guiding your hand to his head for self-indulgent scratches.

"You didn't actually invite me over to have dinner," you reminded him humorously.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I didn't."

to read short 2.4k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, lots of banter with the rest of seventeen, jeonghan is bullied by you and his members, mentions of oppa (only once and in a teasing way), small age gap, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1004 (teaser); 2484 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"You're going to get me in so much tro- Stop!", you couldn't help the girlish squeal that left your mouth at Jeonghan's careless roughhousing.

His hands wouldn't leave your waist, glued to the dip of your waist as he followed you around Seventeen's floor as you attempted to leave.

After the ruse to keep you around for his elevator rides died down, now becoming Jeonghan's official girlfriend (his words), the menacing boy continued to play dumb, insisting that there was just no one else he entrusted with the task of helping him up and down the elevator. It was a dumb inside joke between you, but it made your insides giggle like a madwoman every time you thought about his insistence to keep you around as much as humanly possible, even now as you engaged in a formal and exclusive relationship.

Hanging out with him in the comfort of your group's floor was fine. Your group was a mere few months old, meaning there wasn't too much traffic from other groups or any outsiders there. However, the halls of Seventeen's floor always made you nervous. You always insisted on being behind closed doors when it came to Jeonghan's floor, knowing that Seventeen were incredibly popular, which resulted in their floor of the building being far more trafficked than your own.

As far as you were aware, only your respective groups, managers, and a few staff members were aware of your relationship. Many simply assumed there was something going on, but due to any lack of announcement of your relationship, there was no way to confirm it. That, and the many people who ended up shipping you after the release of Hybe's Game Caterers due to how insistent on sticking by your side Jeonghan had been during recording (damn you, Yoon Jeonghan).

"Bunny, c'mon," he whined, nuzzling his head in your neck as you continued to walk down the hallway, attempting to reach their practice room, "What's the point in dating if I can't even enjoy you at work?", he protested, feet bumping into yours due to the continuous proximity between your bodies.

"Han, if someone catches us-"

"I don't care. You know that," his touches finally halted as soon as you made it to the door, holding it open for you in a classic act of gallantry often displayed by him. It was always unspoken and casual, but you came to learn that Jeonghan was naturally caring for those around him, especially you. Doors were opened, oranges peeled, laces tied, you name it.

"Sure, you don't care," you started, crossing the small dressing room that connected the hallway and the practice room, Jeonghan behind you, "You're like fifty, you've been in the industry forever now. A measly dating rumor with your junior would do nothing to your career. I'd get accused of sleeping my way up and fuck everything up for my members," you argued back, not seriously mad nor argumentative, just continuing the thread of conversation.

Finally in the practice room, Jeonghan gaped at you, amused yet offended, "Fifty?", he gasped, getting the attention of a fellow Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan who just so happened to be sitting by nearby, "You're calling me old? I'm 28!," he insisted, whining at you and pulling at your arm as a child would.

Feigning annoyance, you held in your laugh at his childishness, knowing that this was always the result any time you attempted to tease him back. Before you could retaliate again, you were interrupted by the other men present in the room, having interrupted whatever conversation they were having with Jeonghan's loudness.

"You're the most lethargic man I know," said Chan with complete seriousness in his face, causing Seungkwan to burst laughing.

Dokyeom seemingly compartmentalized out of nowhere, also joining in as he crossed the door you'd just come in from, close enough to have heard the conversation, "Cradle robber," he teased as he walked by, sticking out his tongue at Jeonghan as the elder did it first.

Jeonghan gaped at all four of you, exasperated in his response, "We're like five years apart!," he whined in reference to your age difference, "If I'm lethargic, then what are you?", he yelled, pointing at Seokmin who had already walked away, still grinning in satisfaction at Jeonghan from his side of the room, beginning to join other members in their stretching.

Laughing throughout it all, you relished on Jeonghan's members ganging up on him, knowing it was usually him who teased the others. Ever since your relationship had become official, you spent more and more time around his groupmates — groupmates who found great enjoyment in teasing him over your relationship. You were never the butt of the joke. On the contrary, they'd encourage you to join in, knowing you were Jeonghan's one and only weakness.

Suddenly, Jeonghan turned to you, annoyed scowl on his face, "You! You don't get to join in and mock me. They're insulting your boyfriend, defend me!", he demanded, pouts and whines never leaving him.

You huffed, "Why should I defend you? I'm your junior, oppa," you used that term very strategically, only ever saving it to tease him or make him embarrassed in front of whoever was around.

Seungkwan all but cackled at the way Jeonghan stopped his annoyed rambling with a swiftness, gaping at you with his eyebrows all the way to his hairline. His mouth opened and closed, likely pondering a comeback for you. Within the short time you'd dated, Jeonghan's insistence that you call him by the correct honorific only got worse, but your denials remained. You calling him oppa at this moment meant only one thing to him: You wanted war.

Without further words, he grabbed you by the wrist, ignoring your surprised yelp as he pulled you with him towards the door you'd barely crossed mere minutes ago. Not really fighting him, you stumbled as you trailed behind him, waving a quick bye to his friends while Seungkwan whined at Jeonghan for his sudden exit.

...

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