#and now I can do it here and it's so refreshing

[mephisto-reporting]

Wearing This Dress Was a Mistake…or Was It?

Premise: You decide to prank him by making him think that you'd be wearing that risque, revealing outfit when you are about to head out... only to find out that pranks have consequences. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is suggestive. Please do not interact if you are a minor. If you wanted to be added to my taglist, please DM, ask or comment :D Content warning: Suggestive. MNDI.

CALEB

Caleb was lounging on your couch like he owned the place, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other holding a can of soda that he swirled absentmindedly. He had taken a few days off, escaping from his duties as Colonel to come back to Linkon. And now, here he was, making himself right at home in your apartment like he had never left. The sight was almost domestic, but you knew better—there was nothing ordinary about Caleb. Not anymore.

He was on leave, a rare moment where he could shed the weight of his uniform and just be Caleb. It was a refreshing change to see him like this—less guarded, more relaxed—but something about it sparked mischief in you. You'd always had a playful, mischievous relationship with Caleb when you were younger. Pranks, jabs, teasing—it had all been part of the dynamic. And now that he was back, you couldn't help but feel a familiar tug to push his buttons just a little.

You'd planned this prank for a while. Slipping into the most scandalous, revealing outfit you could find in your closet, one that certainly wasn’t something you'd wear out in public. You had no intention of actually leaving—just giving Caleb the briefest hint that you were about to, and seeing how he’d react.

You walked into the living room, draped in the most inappropriate outfit you could manage. A fitted dress that barely covered your thighs, a deep V that left little to the imagination, and a loose, barely-there wrap that hung carelessly from your shoulders. Your intention was to get under Caleb’s skin, to push him just a little—just enough to remind him that the old pranks hadn’t gone anywhere.

When Caleb glanced up, his relaxed demeanor faltered for just a second, his sharp gaze lingering on you. There was a flicker of something darker in his eyes, something predatory. But he said nothing at first, just observing you with a cold silence that sent a chill down your spine. Your pulse quickened slightly under his intense gaze, but you pushed down the thrill crawling up your spine. This was just a joke.

You took a deep breath, feigning innocence. "I'm heading out to meet some friends," you announced, grabbing your purse.

The shift was instantaneous.

The lazy, relaxed Caleb from moments ago was gone. His can hit the coffee table with a soft thud, his entire frame tensing as he straightened up. His gaze darkened, trailing over your figure with slow, possessive deliberation.

"You're wearing that?" His voice was low, almost casual—but you could hear the undercurrent of something dangerous lurking beneath it.

You swallowed but kept up the act. "Yeah. Why?" You tilted your head, feigning confusion. "It looks good, doesn't it?"

"You’re not going anywhere dressed like that." he muttered, the words falling from his lips in a near-growl.

You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest. "What, you think I can’t pull it off?"

He stood in one smooth motion, and before you could react, he was standing in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist with a surprising amount of force. His fingers were warm, rough, as if he were trying to ground himself with the touch.

"If you're so insistent on showing this side of you to others," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, "then it’s only fair that I get to see more of it, isn't it?"

Before you could protest, he hoisted you effortlessly onto his shoulder, your legs dangling in the air as he carried you toward your room like a caveman claiming his prize.

"Caleb!" You gasped, half-laughing, half-embarrassed by the sheer force of his actions. But Caleb wasn't listening. His grip was firm, his footsteps purposeful as he crossed the room.

He threw open your bedroom door, his eyes locking with yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "You think you can strut around like this for anyone else?" His voice was dangerously calm, but the heat in his gaze betrayed the undercurrent of rage—jealousy, possessiveness—swirling just beneath the surface.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he silenced you with a heated kiss, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for argument. His lips were urgent, demanding, but still with an edge of care as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone seeing you in that outfit.

"Do you want me to show you what that outfit can do to any individual with a working braincell?" Caleb murmured against your lips, his breath shallow as he gently pushed you onto the bed. He towered over you, his body a wall of heat and strength, completely commanding your attention.

You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, still shaken by the intensity of the moment. "It was just a prank, Caleb. I didn’t mean—"

His fingers traced the line of your jaw with surprising gentleness before his eyes darkened. "No," he whispered. "You didn’t mean to tease me like this, but now that you have, you’re not going anywhere. Not until I’ve had my fill of you. I don’t like the idea of anyone else looking at you like this.”

You opened your mouth to explain, to tell you weren’t actually heading out like this, but before you could say a word, he was on you, his lips crashing against yours with a possessiveness that left you breathless. His hands roamed down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, gripping you tightly as if he were afraid someone might take you from him.

You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and heavy, as he pulled away just enough to whisper, “You’re mine, understand?” His words were both possessive and adoring, a dangerous combination you knew too well.

And as your neighbors found out soon after, the only sounds that filled the air that evening were far less friendly than the teasing words you’d exchanged earlier.

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was early. Again.

Technically, he was supposed to be on time tonight—after all, it was his gallery event. But you knew better. You had predicted, with painful accuracy, that he'd find some way to ding-dong ditch his own damn celebration. Which was exactly why he was here at your apartment an hour before you needed to leave.

"I'm only here because Thomas would physically drag me if I didn't show up at all," he muttered from the other side of the door of your bedroom. "Consider this me being a responsible artist. All of you should be grateful."

You hummed, feigning disinterest as you checked your reflection in the mirror. "Oh, I am grateful, Rafayel."

"Good, as you shou—"

He cut himself off entirely as you stepped out from your bedroom.

You had planned this prank the moment you'd heard he was coming early. Because if Rafayel wanted to ditch the gallery, you'd at least make sure he suffered before he got his way. So, instead of slipping into something elegant and refined for an art exhibition, you had opted for something else entirely. It wasn’t even an outfit you would wear outside—it barely covered anything at all, and the material clung to your body in all the wrong places. A sheer, tight-fitting slip with lace accents, enough to leave little to the imagination. The fabric wasn’t completely transparent, but it did the job well enough to make every inch of your skin noticeable. Every inch of skin exposed was deliberate. Calculated. A direct attack on Rafayel's composure.

And oh, it worked.

His entire body stiffened, the lazy smirk on his lips frozen mid-form. His next grape missed his mouth completely, bouncing pathetically off his chin and rolling onto the floor. But he didn't even notice.

For a long, silent moment, all Rafayel did was stare.

Then, dramatically, he clutched his chest. "No."

You blinked. "No?"

"I can't take you anywhere like this," he lamented, waving frantically at all the exposed skin. "You—You will steal the show! The gallery will forget my masterpieces the moment you walk through the door!" Rafayel’s eyes flickered to the door, then back to you, his expression a mix of shock and something darker. “You’re kidding. You want me to take you to the gallery dressed like… this? Everyone will be staring, and I can’t have that.”

He turned his back to you with a huff, clearly flustered. He spun around to face you again, his eyes narrowing, and a flicker of possessiveness flashed across his face. “This is too much. I’m not taking you out like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

His expression faltered, and for a split second, you saw a vulnerability in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by his usual dramatic demeanor. “Embarrassed? No!! I just don’t want everyone gawking at my—especially when I’m the one who’s supposed to admire you tonight. How am I supposed to take you out like this? All eyes will be on you, and I don’t know if I’m prepared for that level of attention. How am I supposed to look at this…”

"Is that such a bad thing?" You teased, twirling a loose strand of hair around your finger.

"Yes!" Rafayel practically whined. He circled you like a predator, eyes flickering with a hunger he hadn’t quite named yet. "Some art should be displayed for the world, sure," he murmured, voice turning dangerously low. "But some art? This should be kept private. Mine."

You bit your lip, barely suppressing a laugh. "Raf, it's just a prank. I'm not actually going like this."

He stilled. Then, very slowly, he grinned.

"Oh?" he purred, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. His fingers skimmed the edge of your exposed thigh, tracing your skin before gripping it lightly. "Then you should go change, hmm?"

You moved to step back, but Rafayel caught your wrist. His grip was loose, teasing, but there was no mistaking the heat behind it.

"Ah, wait," he murmured, feigning deep thought. "Actually… No. That would take too long."

You frowned. "What—?"

"We're already late," he sighed, tone laced with mock regret. "And if we're already late, then it doesn’t really matter, does it?"

Before you could say anything else, Rafayel scooped you up in one swift motion, his hands firmly gripping you. “Forget the gallery,” he said, his voice practically a growl. “You’re not leaving this apartment until I’ve taken my time enjoying this… work of art.”

“Rafayel, wait!” You tried to protest, but he was already striding toward your bedroom, his grip firm around you.

“You don’t deserve to wear something this distracting for anyone else,” he muttered, his voice laced with a possessive hunger. “I’ll be the only one to appreciate it properly.”

Before you could even respond, his lips were on yours, demanding and heated, the rest of the world completely irrelevant. You could barely keep up with the intensity of his kiss as he stripped away the fabric, each motion more urgent than the last.

As the sound of Thomas’ calls rang through both your phones, going straight to voicemail, Rafayel didn’t spare it a second thought. The gallery? It was already a lost cause. Tonight, he had you—and he was taking his sweet time with it.

SYLUS

As Sylus prepared for his mission, a sense of anticipation hung thick in the air. He was packing his gear with the meticulous attention of a man who thrived on the chaos he created, readying himself for whatever dangerous task lay ahead. This lifestyle was no stranger to him —the dangerous, dark heart of his empire. But you couldn’t shake the worry that gnawed at you every time he walked out the door. Dangerous, illegal missions were a regular part of his life, and while you knew he could handle himself, the thought of him in harm’s way left you restless.

But you weren’t about to voice that concern—not when he took so much pleasure in riling you up with his teasing. Tonight, you had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine—payback, as you saw it. After all, his teasing and his ability to keep you on edge with his deep voice, knowing smirks, fleeting touches, and that intense gaze deserved a little retaliation. This time, you were going to make him work for it.

Fair was fair.

You stepped into the study, heels clicking against the floor, the sharp sound enough to draw his attention. His red eyes flickered up from his preparations, widening just slightly before narrowing with intrigue. You had dressed specifically to get a reaction—a short, black mesh dress that left little to the imagination, the sheer material teasing glimpses of lace underneath. The plunging neckline dipped scandalously low, while the cutouts along your waist accentuated every tempting curve.

Sylus let out a low, appreciative hum as he leaned back against the wall, taking his time raking his gaze over you.

“And where exactly do you think you’re going dressed like that, sweetie?” His smirk was lazy, but the sharp glint in his crimson stare was anything but.

You let your eyes linger on his figure for a moment, before casually offering, "Actually, I’m heading back to Linkon for a night out—clubbing with some friends." Your heels clicked softly against the floor as you took a few steps closer, and you could see his pupils dilate briefly, his reaction evident, though he masked it quickly with another smirk.

"Well, well," he drawled, his eyes still locked on your attire. "Funny, I’ve never gotten the pleasure of seeing you in such bold outfits before."

You shrugged nonchalantly, your lips curling into a playful smile. "I dress for the occasion."

A small chuckle escaped him, the sound rich and dark. "Interesting, these 'occasions' never seem to happen when I'm around." His eyes trailed over you once more, the intensity of his gaze making your pulse quicken.

He walked slowly, closing the distance between you in a few slow, measured strides. When he reached you, his fingers brushed against the exposed skin of your thigh, the touch featherlight, deliberate.

“I suppose I should consider myself unfortunate, then,” he murmured, trailing his hand higher. “But I’ll be damned, sweetie, you do look ravishing.”

You hummed, feeling the heat of his touch ghosting over your skin. "Maybe ypu were just not paying enough attention before."

His laugh was low, dark, full of amusement. "Oh, kitten," he purred, his hands drifting lower, tracing the dip of your waist before pulling you just a little closer. "Trust me, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you."

Your breath hitched as his palm splayed possessively over your hip, his fingers teasing the hem of your barely-there dress. “Not worried about all the attention I’ll get?” you teased, meeting his gaze.

He let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost like a growl. "Sweetie, I know you can handle yourself if things go wrong." he said, his hands suddenly roaming over your skin, slow and deliberate, almost as if he were marking his territory. His touch was magnetic, entrancing. His fingers traced your jawline, grazing over the curve of your neck, and you felt the weight of his presence pull you in, closer to him with each movement.

He smirked, as if he could sense the effect he was having on you. "Go ahead. Have fun tonight," he murmured, pulling out his black card from his wallet and offering it to you. "Just don't have too much fun without me." His breath ghosted over your lips, hot and tantalizing, and you could feel his eyes trailing lower

You saw it then—the flicker of something dark and hungry in his stare, a silent challenge laced with possession. It made you want to push just a little further.

“What if I do?”

The moment the words left your lips, you barely had time to react before Sylus’s hands were on you. A startled gasp escaped you as he lifted you effortlessly, locking your legs around his waist. The back of your dress rode up, and his fingers pressed into your thighs, holding you firmly in place as his mouth found yours. The kiss was deep, slow, devastating. He wasn’t just kissing you—he was claiming you, drawing you in until the thought of leaving, of doing anything other than this, felt ridiculous. “Then I guess I’ll have to make sure you’re more entertained...” he murmured against your ear, his voice dripping with possessiveness, as if you were already his in every sense.

Without another word, he carried you through the mansion, his lips never leaving yours as his pace quickened. He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, his hold on you firm, commanding, as though the very idea of you going out tonight was laughable. His smirk never faltered, his confidence radiating in waves.

“You think I’d let that happen?” he said in a husky whisper against your lips, his voice thick with amusement. As he kicked open the door to his bedroom, he laid you down on the bed with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. “Guess neither of us is going anywhere tonight…”

You tried to speak between stolen breaths, to tell him it was a prank, but he only smirked against your mouth, cutting you off with another slow, intoxicating kiss.His weight pressed you down onto the bed, his hands sliding over every inch of exposed skin. “It’s a good thing you weren’t actually going out,” he mused, voice dripping with amusement. “Because I plan to keep you here… All. Night. Long.”

A thrill ran through you as you realized just how easily he'd flipped the situation in his favor. And you weren't sure if you could—if you wanted to—fight it.

XAVIER

You had been scheming for a while, setting the perfect trap to prank Xavier, and today was the day you were finally going to execute your plan. You’d texted him earlier, asking him to swing by your apartment to pick up the meals you had prepared for him. You knew full well Xavier could barely cook an egg without burning it, so he was always appreciative when you made him something special. You always made quite a batch of food whenever he came over to pick it up so he could store them in his freezer.

He had a spare key to your apartment in case of emergencies, but today, you were going to make sure he’d get more than just food when he came over. He’d always been so calm and collected in most situations that it was infuriating at times. You had tried to get a reaction out of him before but had always failed. But today, it would be different. Today, you knew you would get him to falter. You’d been thinking of a little prank to get a rise out of him—and you knew exactly what would get under his skin.

When you heard the door click open, you made sure to pick up your purse slowly, letting Xavier get a good look at the outfit you’d chosen: A tight, revealing midnight blue dress that clung to your curves like a second skin, the plunging neckline barely covering what was necessary and the high slit on the side showing just enough leg to drive anyone wild. The fabric was soft, almost like a second layer of skin, and you knew it would make his blood run hot.

Xavier’s footfalls slowed, and the air seemed to thicken with tension as he entered the room, his eyes immediately darkening the moment they landed on you. His usually calm expression shifted, but only slightly, and his voice, low and even, carried an edge. “You have plans?” His tone was casual, but you could tell it didn’t match the storm brewing in his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, I’m heading out with some colleagues,” you answered nonchalantly, knowing full well that would get him riled up. In your mind, this was all part of the prank. You were expecting a laugh, a joke, maybe even a playful remark.

His eyes narrowed, the calm veneer slipping away. “Wrong answer.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him with feigned confusion. “Huh?”

“I said, wrong answer. You are not going out to meet them… in that?” He spoke slowly.

“Why not? What’s wrong with the dress? I think it makes me look nice.” You looked at your dress pretending that you didn’t know what was wrong with it. “Plus, I already made plans with them…”

He didn’t hesitate, slamming the door behind him with a soft thud. His hand rested on the doorframe as he leaned in, towering over you. “Your plan,” he said, voice gruff with unspoken demand, “is with me. Right here. And only I should be the one seeing you in that dress. And outside of it.” he added, his voice dark with possessiveness.

Your heart raced, though you maintained an innocent air. “Xavier, come on... I’m just going out for fun. It’s not a big deal.” You tried to laugh it off, but your breath caught as his hands trailed over your skin, tracing your body with an intention that left no room for interpretation.

 You didn’t have a chance to react before he was right in front of you, his frame crowding you against the door, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you slightly.

He didn’t respond to your attempt at casualness. Instead, his gaze was fierce, intense, and utterly unyielding. The meals you had prepared was forgotten. The only thing on his mind was you—and the dress you wore, too.

“Why do they get to see you like this when it’s meant for me?” His voice dropped, each word heavier than the last.

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his voice. The heat between you was immediate, pressing, suffocating. Xavier reached up, his fingers gently grazing your neck, then sliding down to your waist, his touch possessive and slow.

You tried to laugh it off again, your playful nature not quite prepared for how serious he had gotten. “It’s just a prank,” you said, offering an innocent smile, hoping to break the tension. “I am not going anywhere…” You giggled, but it came out a little nervous. “I swear… It’s just a prank, Xavier.”

He blinked once,  the twice, confusion flickering in his eyes. His boyish, innocent looked returned, stunned at your words. He seemed to process it for a moment. Then, the intensity of his gaze returned, fiercer than before. He took a step forward, closing the non existent distance between you, and his lips were suddenly on yours—hard, commanding. His lips crushed against yours, his tongue immediately claiming dominance as he growled low in his throat.

Before you could even process what was happening, you were on the couch, his body pressing you into the cushions. His hands roamed, touching you everywhere. as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Prank or not,” he said, his voice hushed but full of intensity, “you’ve got me thinking about you in that dress with them—with anyone else.” His hands moved lower, sliding over the fabric of your dress. “You thought teasing me would be funny, huh? Let’s see how funny it is now.” His tone was equal parts teasing and threatening, a dangerous mix that made your heart race.

You gasped as his hands found your thighs, pulling you against him, his body already pressing into yours. There was no more pretending, no more games. Xavier’s need was undeniable, and you couldn’t escape the heat between you.

His lips met yours again, deeper, more frantic this time, as if making sure you understood just how serious he was about what was happening between you. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

And when the night ended, teasing Xavier definitely wouldn’t be on your list of things to do again... or maybe it would be.

ZAYNE

The dress was daring—too daring, perhaps. The fabric clung to your body, smooth and sultry, dipping dangerously low in the front and riding scandalously high on your thighs. The sheer lace along the sides barely covered enough, teasingly revealing glimpses of skin beneath. It was the kind of dress that would have heads turning, and you knew it.

That was the point.

You had planned this all too perfectly. A new pastry café had just opened downtown, and you’d invited Zayne out for a date. You had been expecting a reaction when he arrived—maybe a subtle quirk of his brow, a small shift in his usual stoic demeanor. Something.

Instead, when you opened the door and greeted him with an innocent smile, his gaze flickered over you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, the door clicked shut behind him.

His expression remained unreadable, but his movements weren’t. The way he took his time removing his gloves, slipping them off with methodical ease before placing them neatly on the nearby counter. The way his fingers traced the hem of his coat, unbuttoning it in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Interesting choice,” he finally said, his voice calm—too calm—as his gaze finally lifted back to meet yours.

You grinned, shifting your weight just slightly to make the dress slide a little higher along your thigh. “Do you like it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a step forward, and you felt the weight of his presence settle over you. His fingers brushed your arm, barely there, before trailing down your wrist. The lightest touch. A doctor’s touch—controlled, precise. But beneath it was something else.

Something simmering.

“Tell me.” His voice was still even, his tone almost thoughtful as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your fingertips. “How far were you planning to go with this little game of yours?”

Your heart stuttered. He knows.

You feigned innocence, tilting your head as if confused. “Game? I was just dressing up for our date.”

“Is that so?” His lips curved, the barest hint of amusement slipping through. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if we went outside right now.”

Your stomach flipped. He wouldn’t.

Would he?

Before you could respond, his other hand moved—so subtle, so swift—and in one seamless motion, he pulled you closer, his fingers splaying over your lower back. Your breath hitched as your bodies pressed together, the warmth of him seeping through the thin material of your dress.

His lips were close now, brushing against your ear. “You forgot,” he murmured, “I know you.”

Your skin burned.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. “Okay, fine. It was a prank.”

Zayne chuckled softly. The sound was low, velvety, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “I knew that before coming over.”

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against the small of your back, and suddenly, you were all too aware of how little there was between you. How easy it would be for him to simply pull—just a little—and the dress would slide right off your shoulders.

You blinked. “Wait, you—?”

“Of course I knew.” He leaned in, his breath brushing against your jaw. “You think I don’t know when you’re trying to get a rise out of me?” The heat in his voice made your knees weak.

Your heart pounded against your ribs as his fingers traced a slow path up your spine, dragging along the zipper of your dress.

“I knew the moment you picked up my call earlier and sounded too innocent. The way you sent me a picture of the food but conveniently cropped yourself out.” His fingers pressed, teasing, against the small of your back. “And now? Now you’re here, looking like this and expecting me to just let you waltz out into a crowded café?”

You barely managed a breath before he tilted your chin up with two fingers, his expression unreadable save for the faintest glint of something more. “Cute.” His lips brushed against yours, feather-light. “But you knew better.”

You shivered at the subtle challenge in his voice, the sheer restraint beneath it. “Zayne, we have a reservation—”

“Mm.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate. “We’ll reschedule.”

“I—”

Whatever you were about to say was swallowed by his kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was deliberate. A slow, consuming thing that left no room for escape. His hands were firm but unhurried as he guided you back, step by step, until your back met the nearest surface—the couch, the wall, you didn’t even know anymore.

Zayne finally pulled away, but only just. His breath fanned across your lips, his fingers still resting against your waist. He looked at you then, truly looked at you, his eyes dark with something unspoken.

“You wanted my attention.” His voice was a whisper now, a dangerous kind of quiet. “You have it.” Your protests faded the moment his hands slid lower, gripping your thighs just enough to make your breath hitch. His lips trailed downward, past your jaw, tracing a searing path along your neck before murmuring, “Tell me, was the prank worth it?”

And as his hands began to move, taking their time, exploring, savoring—one thing became very, very clear.

Prank or not, you wouldn’t be leaving for that café tonight.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace@sinsodom@m00nchildwrites

[bitchlessdino]

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) [2]

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut , fluff, slight angst Word count: current 21.9k (total w.c. 34.4k) rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now. tags: MDNI, Childhood rivals to Best friends to Ex-best Friends to Strangers to Fake Dating to Lovers (try to keep up),childhood trauma, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of injury and sabotage, random idol features, reader and seungcheol in their 30s, grump x sunshine, fake dating au, office au, taekwondo buddies, virgin!seungcheol, experienced!reader, food & alcohol scenes, yearning, reader wears a dress, drinking, tipsy intimacy, heavy eye contact, grinding, dry humping, exhibitionism, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m. rec.), pet names (good boy)

[Part 1 in case you missed it]

“Hi! Sorry for intruding, but I bought coffee for everyone in the office!”

Surprise visits at work was a thing that couples did on occasion, so you thought it couldn’t hurt to try it. And as long as you gave a peace offering, nothing should go wrong. To your expectations, your surprise visit came with a whole welcome wagon. Passing through the hall, everyone in his department approached you with confused glances before swarming with warming greetings back as they accepted your bribes. It got loud enough to demand the attention of the office manager, hearing the muffled voices that bled through the thin cracks of his office walls. “What is the cause of all this—what are you doing here?”

Your eyes lit up at his appearance, immediately dropping the carrier of coffees in the next available person’s hand before rushing over to join his side. “I came to see you!”

“What about the cafe?”

“I brought a different lunch, just to change it up. We can enjoy it in your office.”

Before you could enter the door behind you, he took hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “It’s a mess in there,” he said through his teeth, code word for ‘off limits’ but if you’ve learned anything from the time you spent with this loon, there was no such thing as limits.

“Aw, baby! You know, I don’t care about any of that! Come on, let’s go!”

His resistance was no match against your sheer will as you pulled him away with a rough tug, subjecting him to a public, involuntary kidnapping in front of all his coworkers while they waved you off, happily enjoying their refreshments. 

As the door shut, you dropped the take out on a table by a couch in a corner, letting out a low whistle. In good mafia boss manner, you jutted your lips out with your hands in your pockets and nodded as you scanned the room, thinking to yourself, ‘if only you accepted that job back in the day,’ but if you did, it would be under a corporation, and the thought tasted bitter in your mouth.

“Wow, this is nice,” you commented haughtily, scanning the perimeter of the room.

He licked his teeth, looking as if he’s about to snap. “You’re pushing it. We didn’t discuss this.”

“Relax, will you? I needed to do something other than go to the cafe because they’ll think that’s all we do.”

“Not my problem. It was the perfect balance between life and work. What if they hear more than they should?”

“We keep our voices low, just like we did at the cafe.” 

You trod over to the couch, breaking open the take out, starving after running around with a wagon stacked high with carriers of coffee. You were thinking, at this point, you were practically that cafe’s sponsor. “Look, if I visit here all the time, you’ll never even have to leave. Plus, you’ll optimize your work hours, get things done here while we carry on with our obligations. Besides, it’s so much more private here, you’d hardly even have to do any pretending.”

He crossed his arms walking over to you, eyes fixed sternly.“…Why are you being so useful for once?” he asked suspiciously.

You smiled, extending your hand with takeout in your grip. “Chicken or beef?”

Your visits to the VENTE Co. office became an every other day occurrence, replacing the lunch dates that would take place in the cafe, now preoccupying the time slot of 11:55 to 12:50 and leaving on the dot. They were so often you were this close to earning a frequent visitor badge made of plastic and not of paper like you were first given, and admittedly that excited you and simultaneously worried Seungcheol that they’d offer you something so official.

“What’s the point of the bachelor party anyway?”

“A bachelor or a bachelorette party is where the person engaged celebrates the last night of ‘being single’ before marriage. Doing things like partying, having fun, but most of the time still clean and appropriate, although television may depict it otherwise.”

“Then isn’t a coed bachelor/bachelorette party contradicting?”

“It’s breaking tradition, and I’m for it! I think it’s sweet that they want to celebrate it together instead of making a big deal about celebrating it apart. Really shows how much they love and are willing to be with each other. It’s always been more for the wedding party anyway. The drinking, the games, clubbing.”

He stopped you from continuing. “How much drinking? What kind of games? And is the clubbing optional?”

You let out half a chuckle, knowing that these questions would eventually come forth. “The details are to be determined.”

“Great.”

“Sound more excited.”

“Great…”

“There was no difference in your tone.”

“I enunciated.”

You sighed, bowing your head. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

He escorted you out of his office, as he’s done every time you’ve come, to ensure that you don’t arouse suspicion from lack of appearances, while you clung to his side like a leech. You’ve begun seeing the difference it made, watching everyone that met your eyes and his with a bit more ease than the first encounter you had with any of them. It was starting to be amusing once they began conversations, asking if you both had anything special to eat, and Seungcheol would eventually give a curt answer when you gave him the nudge he needed. He was growing before your very eyes, improving endearingly everyday.

“Manager Choi!”

A man with salt and pepper hair approached before either of you got very far, his voice traveling from the end of that hall, reaching Seungcheol’s ears, to which he promptly greeted him back. “Hello Sir. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

He returned the respectful welcome with a fatherly grin, patting him on the back. “Well, I was in the neighborhood and decided to make a visit to the branches in the area, do a random check in. Outstanding work as always.”

Seungcheol nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. “Thank you, sir.”

“And who might this visionary be?” The man asked, gesturing over to you with an open hand. “Head of VENTE, Lee Sooneung.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lee!” You brightly greeted, shaking the hand as you introduced yourself as the girlfriend. “I’m just visiting him at lunch.”

“Well, aren’t you both just darling? Where have you kept her all this time, Choi?”

Mr. Lee was a bit of a talker, and when he got started, he was the only one that was able to stop it, but there was you. Seungcheol came to realize that you were effortless in pivoting conversations, always knowing how to move them along so they wouldn’t drag out. And to Mr. Lee’s knowledge, he didn't notice, or if he did, he didn’t seem to care. You made good company, and Seungcheol didn’t appreciate that enough when he knew he should.

“Choi, you must come to this charity event. My wife and I will host it three Sundays from now, and bring the ball of sunshine with you.”

Before Seungcheol could answer, you interjected cheerfully, “We’d be happy to attend.”

“Wonderful. Well, I’ll let you two be on your way. Don’t be too in love, not on the company’s dime.”

You both bidded him goodbye and walked towards the elevators, leading towards the exit.

“Why’d you say that?” he mumbled, under his breath.

“What?” You asked in a normal volume.

He stepped closer, repeating the words in hushed tones. “‘We’d be happy to attend?’ When did we ever discuss this? This wasn’t on our set agenda.”

“We can add it,” you argued, “You want people to like you, this charity event can be good for that. It’s charity for crying out loud.”

“That’s my boss, he doesn’t need to like me. He just needs to value me.”

“How is that any different?”

The elevator doors slid open and you both began heading towards the exits, already seeing the cab he called ahead for you. However, before you could take another step, he dropped his voice lower, pulling you closer and cupped his hand to your ear, making the gesture and words that came out of his mouth look more intimate than they should as a shiver ran down your spine. 

“I didn’t get as far as I did by being a kiss-ass.”

You lightly shoved him off before you jumped in your cab. “Going to one event won’t make you a kiss-ass. Think of it as networking, building your rapport with other people in your industry. There’s no certainty that you’ll stay in this position forever, and I doubt that’s what you want either. Having a back up plan, or plans, isn’t a bad idea. I think they might exist at this event. and you could do yourself some good by going.”

“…Who the hell are you?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you closed the door, rolling down the back seat window to have the final word. “Someone who’s about to take a very, very long food induced coma.”

He leaned against the door. “Have you ever considered that you’re a terrifying person?”

“Have a good day at work!”

Just when Seungcheol thought things were getting just a little bit easier, you somehow managed to throw something else in his way. He should’ve expected it. He should’ve known better. This was you after all. Just like he should’ve seen what else was coming that following weekend.

It was early Saturday and somehow Seungcheol still managed to get a work out in. The bachelor/bachelorette party you mentioned was being held that day, and somehow, you managed to convince him that it was worth leaving the house to stay the night in a beach house miles and miles away with about ten other couples. Well, convince was a strong word, what word he really would’ve used was—

“–Trick.” He clicked the roof of his mouth while staring at the banner that clearly stated, ‘Welcome to Seokjin’s and Eunbi’s Bach Overnight Weekend.’ “You tricked me.”

“I did no such thing,” You told back, attempting an air of innocence.

He pointed an accusatory finger, his lips forming a line to present an unamused, but unsurprised, expression. “I should’ve known. No wonder you took extra long in my bathroom. You were sneaking clothes out of my closet for an overnight bag.”

“I could’ve sworn I told you,” you defended, throwing the said duffle over your shoulder.

“You most certainly did not.”

“...Okay, I didn’t.”

He tightly shut his eyes, squeezing them as if the situation brought him to physical pain. “I was led to believe it was one night, not a whole weekend.”

You groaned, “It was a last-minute decision. It’s only overnight because the place they chose is so damn far, and no one wanted to drive all the way back when there’s drinking involved. They wanted to be responsible.”

“You could’ve declined, or warned me so I could’ve declined.”

“Cheol,” you whined apologetically.

“Guys, you made it! Welcome to casa de Kim!” 

“Jin!” You smiled, changing directions to greet an old friend.

Seokjin emerged from the house to welcome you and your unhappy guest with hugs. Seokjin and Eunbi had been your longest friends and recently decided to tie the knot, officially taking themselves off the market for good despite everyone knowing they were nuts for each other all their lives. It was just a matter of timing, and this was their time. “Where’s my girl?” You prodded, looking over his shoulder.

“Uh, you mean my future wife? She’s handling some last minute planning in the kitchen, but I’ll make sure to let her know you guys have arrived. Great to finally meet you, man! Welcome in!”

“Oh, thanks,” Seungcheol lamely greeted, accepting your friend's handshake.

Seokjin took a little time making small talk before going back to his hosting duties, making sure to drop off the party favors–what he also called care kits–before pushing you to your designated room for the night and letting you go on your merry way. “Late lunch in an hour! Don’t be late!”

“Okay, Jin. we’ll be there!”

“We will?” Seungcheol asked, resistance in his voice.

“Yes, now come on.”

There was the matter of the single bed of the room as you predicted—the cliche ever so popular—but that would be a problem for the evening. For now, they would just have to get through the rest of the day and get through Seokjin and Eunbi’s party games, which you didn’t doubt were eccentric as they were.

Your friends were excited to either see you and your fake boyfriend again or meet him for the first time if they hadn't been at the brunch. Seungcheol did the bare minimum, also as you expected, staying by your side and enjoying the food available to the fullest, and by the fullest, you meant loading up on protein and the occasional miniscule portion of white rice. Nonetheless, your friends made sure they were good company, trying to involve you both in conversations while keeping the attention on the guests of honors: the beautiful soon to be wed couple.

“Okay kids, gather around!”

“Kids?” Mark repeated, “We’re in our damn 30s.”

Jin scoffed, an offended hand to his chest. “Speak for yourself, I’m forever 21. Anyways, before I was rudely interrupted, I just wanted to thank everyone for coming. None of this would be possible without the beautiful woman beside me,” he glanced down at Eunbi, who amusingly chuckled back at her fiance, “and me—and I guess you guys too. So! Let’s have a great time this weekend, alright? To love!”

“To love!”

You all clinked your midday cocktails, and you watched to make sure Seungcheol joined in, and he did so from the comfort of his seat. With Just you. With a glass full of ice water. Drinking a measly single sip before setting it quietly down. This was going to be a long night.

“Right after we finish up, we’ll get started heading by down to the pool—the beach if ya’ feel frisky—and then the games will commence after a bit of play.”

“Frisky? 21, my ass.”

“Jeon Jungkook, something will go up your ass if you talk out of turn one more time on my day.”

Most of the guests decided to stay by the pool, while a few ventured by the beach, wanting to get a tan. Meanwhile, Seungcheol stayed inside with you in the lounging area as everyone else enjoyed themselves. He lifted his head up from his phone to see you, watching how your eyes followed the motion of their joy, seeing how everyone interacted with each other or with the water, either jumping in or on the verge to, while muffled laughter bled through the sliding doors.

“Not joining your friends?” He nudged.

“And leave you here alone?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “I’m good.”

“I’m not running away, no matter how tempting that is, I’m stuck here.”

You shook your head, putting your knees to your chest. “That’s not it.”

“Don’t tell me. You’ve come to enjoy my company.” 

You crinkled your nose in response, “You know how to joke now? Since when did you get a software upgrade?”

“When they started to slow down yours to prioritize mine.”

You poked at his head in retaliation, but he successfully evaded it, tilting his head in a 45 degree angle, an angle that if anyone else saw would think he was trying to act funny or cute. Disappointingly, you fell into the second category.

“Will you not tell me why you’re deciding to stay inside and not be with your friends after bamboozling me out of a peaceful weekend?”

You sighed, turned back to your friends, and watched the transparent door screens like it was a television show that played in the background, not interactable. “They make it fun when I'm here.”

“How is that an issue? You enjoy their presence, they enjoy yours.”

“They make it fun. Like I’m being taken care of. While everyone is having a good time, being all coupled up lovey dovey, and happy, I’m chilling on the sidelines, or if I do join, I’m a third, fifth, seventeenth wheel. So, I’m used to sitting back. Letting the couples be couples. I just don’t want to get in their way and I don’t want them to have me join in just because I'm chronically alone.”

“I thought you would take your previous partners to these kinds of things.”

You shook your head, “Only smaller events with people that I know wouldn’t blink twice if saw me single the next day. I usually went to things like the brunches or parties with just my friends. No one else.”

“You brought a boyfriend to this event, you do realize that, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “You,” you kept your voice low, “are different. Obviously. It’s not like we can do all the couple things like everyone else.”

“...You said you might go to the beach later, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So, you brought and wore a swimsuit?”

“...yeah–Hey! Motherfucker, put me down!”

The moment arose once you were stolen from the couch, scooped up in Seungcheol’s arms as he carried you effortlessly as you flailed in his grasp, passing through the sliding doors and out to the pool side. Initially, you both hardly attracted any attention from the people already there, but your voice filled with anguish and unbridled rage was loud enough to reach even the neighbors in the other beach house a mile away. 

“I’m going to kill you, Choi!”

“Oh hey, guys! You’re finally joining us,” Jin greeted, before he and everyone witnessed your fake boyfriend—or shall you put it, attempted murderer—drop you into the pool, submerging you into water. 

For a whole moment, all you saw was blue and light as the pressure of the water  pushed around your body and towards its depths, its cool temperature surrounding you as you inhaled it in your nose and through your lungs. You immediately closed your mouth, preventing yourself from digesting any more and pushed yourself up the moment your feet could touch the ground. Coughing and gasping for air, you scowled at the man responsible. “You—”

“You looked like the sun was getting to you, darling, so I thought some water would do you some good,” he stated, pulling a sinister grin, the dimple present like the mark of horns on the devil’s head.

“You could have killed me,” you hissed.

“Actually,” Wonwoo interjected from a few feet away, “He only threw you four feet deep. Five would’ve drowned you, three could lead to a concussion, but four is actually a good medium. Maybe a scrape of the knee, but you’d mostly be okay.”

You may have dramatized the experience a tad bit, but nonetheless, you were thrown in the fucking pool. You turned to your usually good friend, showing him the same scowl. “Now is not the time, nerd.”

“I like him. Keep him around.” Seungcheol commented, pointing to Wonwoo.

“Hey!” you shouted, still angry. “Are you insane?”

“Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mad like this before,” Jihyo joined in, doubling over in laughter, “not even when we caught he who shall not be named fucking around summer of ‘18. And you were pissed, but not like this.”

You ran your hand over your wet hair that obscured your vision, “Yeah, well, apparently instead of a pig, I picked a fucking psycho.”

Seungcheol edged by the pool, squating in front of you with knees to his chest before he landed his final diss. “Sounds like your prospects were limited, anyways.”

The bach party gasped, hands covering more mouths than ladies laughing during high tea, and the quiet, subtle laughter dispersed amongst them. It buzzed around you like flies, mocking you, and although you weren’t all that mad–like them you could tell it was all in good fun–you were out for revenge. Blood.

“Cheol.”

“Hmm?”

“I think you were right about one thing. Water does do you some good.” In a split second, you had his arm, tugging him into the water with you, feeling a pair of hands clasp around your waist as your bodies submerged together. Using the surprise attack as an advantage, you purposefully pressed your weight into him with your hip to push him deeper–sacrificing yourself even if it meant taking you with him, ensuring he felt the full under the sea experience.

When you both finally pulled up to the surface, he’s coughing as much as you were the same scowl on his face as you had on yours, except now you’re the one pointing and laughing, leaning against the pool wall for support.

“You did that on purpose,” he mimicked.

“Aren't you the genius?”

He splashed water on you. “I could’ve died.”

“I’ve seen this movie before,” you ask sardonically before his splashes came in waves, rippling back at you until you were forced to act in defense. 

When everyone else saw how the scene unfolded, more of your friends decided to join in on the fun, finding more amusement in the pool activities than before. The noise amplified throughout the perimeter, but not a care in the world was seen. It was as if they were all waiting for you to join, and once you did, there was no more holding back. Even Seungcheol, chronically stoic Seungcheol, bared a smile that didn’t want to come down.

Coming closer to the dinner time, guests were about ready to change out of their wet clothes and into something dry for the evening, keeping in mind the games they’d be playing later. Meanwhile, You and Seungcheol rushed up the stairs, shivering without a towel, and entered your shared room for refuge.

“Get out,” you said, your teeth chattering.

He gave you an offended glance. “I have to change, you get out.”

“And what do you think I’m doing? My taxes? I need to change too, asshole.”

“Fine, we’ll just change in the same room. Quickly.”

“Like I’d let that happen, perv.”

He rolled his eyes, “There’s not really much to see. If anything, I’m the one that should be worried.”

“Excus–you know what? Fuck it, whatever. We grab our clothes from the duffle and turn around and change at opposite sides of the room. Okay?”

“Best idea you’ve had all damn day.”

You stormed together towards the single large bag you brought, both your hands moving in flurries as you grab your things. In the midst of the chaos, Seungcheol’s gaze accidentally pivoted, taking in the way your tee-shirt clung to your chest, the outline of breasts in your bikini clear as day, while your nipples–erect and stiff from the cold—poked through the material, moving violently as your hands swished through the bag. It’s until you got up after retrieving your clothes that he fixed his gaze, returning to rummaging for clothes.

“Can’t find it? It should’ve been on top of the stack since I packed your clothes last.”

“I’m looking!” he answered a little too loudly, embarrassed by the reason for the delay.

Refusing to meet your eyes, he stood up finally when the clothes made themselves known, holding them triumphantly, “Found it.”

“Okay. You take one side, I take the other and none of the paths cross.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the plan we discussed a mere two minutes ago.”

“Asshole. Okay, go!”

You both head into the direction you were already facing, your backs parallel to one another and the immediate sounds of wet clothes squelching on the floor as they fell in loud thuds. The ruffling of dry clothes were next to follow, but the thought hadn’t occurred to either one of you until you stood in your birthday suits that you’d be stripping naked simultaneously until that very moment. 

When the awareness finally did kick in, you were looking at a painting of fruit as Seungcheol stared into the balcony, luckily too far to showcase your awkward circumstance, but both had nothing on their mind but the thought of their fake significant other stark naked. Their actions began slowing down, moving at a snail’s pace as they started putting one arm and one leg through a hole through a single article of clothing at a time, as if savoring the rush they’ve discovered the rustling of fabrics as they slid against skin. 

You lightly coughed, first to penetrate through the silence. “I know what you tried to do.”

The sound of fabric flapping resonated from the direction of the balcony. “I’m trying to change.”

“Not right now, dimwit,” you insulted.

“The insults are juvenile, and frankly uncalled for.”

“I’m talking about the pool.”

“What about it?”

“You listened to my trauma dumping, and you didn’t have to.”

“...I asked.”

You pulled up your shorts, letting them settle over your hips, unsure if you liked how they squeezed, but let it go. “And…you fucking dropped me in the pool like a hot turd—fuck you for that by the way.”

He chuckled, and you didn’t see it, but you could imagine the smile on his face.

“But I know you did it because of what I said, that I wanna do couple shit…like playing in the pool with my boyfriend.”

“Was that playing? You looked fairly mad. Aggressive perhaps.”

“Yeah, well, you fucking almost killed me,” you said, tugging the final shirt over your head.

“Like I almost didn’t die either?” He retorted. “I saw a bright light in that pool when you took me.”

“That was the sun!”

“It looked nothing like the sun.”

“Well, whatever the fuck–oh, my god. You made me lose my train of thought!” 

A hand fell on your shoulder, turning you away from the painted apples and melons to stand face to face with the person you were just imagining yourself screaming at now fully clothed, but as you looked into his eyes, the rage began to dissipate. Instead, you’re overcome with silence and a sense of gratitude, seeing warmth in his eyes you weren’t used to. You could always tell a difference somehow, and moments like this were when you wished you didn’t. Not when they confused you.

“Well?”

You’re jolted awake by the sarcastic tone of his voice, a stark contrast to his soft features, and the glint of something in his eyes you’re probably mistaken about. Or maybe he had just gotten a lot better at pretending. “Just, thank you. Thank you for trying.”

A corner of his lips slightly lifted before dropping, wrapping his hand around your wrist—making your eyes jump in size and only adding to your uncertainty—as he tugged you towards the door. “Alright, let’s get the rest of this over with.”

Jin and Eunbi came and delivered as expected. Their dinner spread was even better than lunch, making sure all their guests knew that they were in good hands. Seungcheol even found himself getting a heartier fill, tasting a bit of everything they had to offer. You enjoyed watching him pile his plate, delightfully surprised as he managed to get at least one of everything from the food pyramid. You made sure to tease him a little, to which he defended himself by saying he worked up an appetite with the swimming, and you didn’t prod him after that, just happy he’s enjoying himself. By the time dinner ended, all the guests’ stomachs were filled with bountiful amounts of food, leaving no one behind to starve. For Jin and Eunbi, the overly enthusiastic party hosts, that meant one thing: it was time for the games to commence.

Jin twinkled his fingers together menacingly, gathering everyone in a circle. “Truth, Dare, or Drink?”

“May I remind everyone we are in damn near our thirties,” Mark, tired and old, brought up again.

“Then sit out grandpa, damn!”

Seungcheol put his lips close to your ear, “What kind of game is this?”

“I’m not so sure. Hey Jin? Eunbi? What the hell is this? Truth or dare?”

Eunbi spoke up to answer, “Truth, dare, or Drink: Couples edition! A couple chooses between truth or dare, and if they can’t answer their truth or do the dare, they take a drink.”

“More drinking,” Seungcheol said, eyes squinting as if war flashbacks actively played throughout his head.

“We'll try the game. I’m sure it won’t be so bad.”

And it wasn’t so bad, for the other couples that is. For the most part it was a simple, truth or dare card game they found in an aisle of any Target or Walmart, but the contents included truths from “craziest place they had sex” to dares where they “switched underwear for the rest of the game.” Some couples passed on the card and took a couple shots, and then your time finally arrived, the new duo in the mix: the two everyone is expecting the most from.

“Truth. No. Dare. Fuck, wait, truth—“

“Damnit,” Seungcheol pulled a truth card out of the deck on the table and presented it in front of you both, letting you read it out loud. “What is your partner’s… ahem… sexiest… body part?”

Seungcheol had looked at the card for himself to see if you read that right, and everyone that circled around you cheered you on, wolf-whistling or howling as they all encouraged the both of you to answer.

“You’re starting off strong, huh?” Mingyu teased.

Chaeyoung was grinning, thinking this kind of game right up her alley, “So, what is it? Who wants to go first?”

“Guys—“ before you could even finish your thought, Seungcheol was already pouring shots, throwing one back like nothing and ‘boo’s took up the space.

“Lame…”

“Can’t even announce to the world what you find sexy about your girlfriend, new guy? Are you really dating then?”

As Seungcheol poured another shot facing it towards you, he looked at you with determination and empowerment. “I think of it as respect to my significant other, and it's best I don’t divulge in saying her most attractive trait if it makes her uncomfortable, so I’ll drink my shot,” he threw back the drink he held in front of you, “and hers.”

While others still found it a little cowardly, his gesture earned him a few pats on the back, thinking he made a safe choice. “Well, alright, good man.”

“You’re safe for now.”

You stared at him, knowing this lunatic did not just do that. After the shit he pulled at the company party, drinking should’ve been the last thing he thought to do. And he would attempt another try when they played another round, this time when a dare was picked.

“Give your partner a blindfolded lap dance.”

Seungcheol sighed, already pouring the shot. “As respect to my partner and her dignity, I—hey!”

The shot disappeared as soon as it was full, being tossed back in your throat as you stole his heroic speech as well, or the paraphrased version of it. “His dignity, respect and honor, yada, yada, yada. His shot too.” The second shot burned slightly more bitter as it went down, and you just hoped the rest of the cards weren’t as intense as the two you’ve received so far.

“Why the hell—“

“You guys are really private, huh,” Jin grinned, “Aw, that’s cute. I’ll let it go, cuties. Let’s keep going!”

That went on for several more rounds, and of course, the cards didn’t get any easier. So to avoid truths or dares, you and Seungcheol drank a lot. Not only that, you had kept stealing the shots back and forth from one another, trying to prevent the other from getting too drunk, but to quote a smart man that was balls deep in several bottles of soju, that numbskull plan was ‘horrendously flawed.’

“Ugh, these fuckers just wanted to drink! Fuck, they’re drunk.”

“If they just wanted to drink, they could’ve done that.” 

“Let’s put them on the couch.”

“Man, he’s huge, where did she find this guy?”

There wasn’t much movement that could be made by either you or the man you brought, so sleeping felt like a natural course of action. The colors and lights of the room faded in and out whilst the music muffled in your ears. In a way, it soothed you, like white noise, and the voices that seeped through would only sometimes jolt you awake, until finally, slumber hit you, and you couldn’t detect anything or anyone at all.

The second you were conscious again, you found yourself on the couch where you last remembered being before completely blacking out. There was a dulling ache you noticed in your head as you got up to scan the room, seeing that you were completely alone with no sign or your fake boyfriend anywhere in sight.

“Cheol?” 

You picked yourself up, holding on to the foundation on the couch and still feeling the lingering effects of the alcohol before going off to find the missing office manager. “Seungcheol!”

You face planted against the transparent glass window, seeing various familiar faces, but none of them being your plus one. Taking your journey to the first floor rooms, you attempted to see if he stumbled upon any of the game rooms or lounging areas conveniently available. It was unsuccessful when you just saw more familiar faces—albeit, friendly ones that were glad to see you alive and well—but no Seungcheol.

In midst of the chaos, your shoulder grazed an oncoming body, having been caught before you took a hard tumble, “Shit, oh, Eunbi. Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“Hey, babes, you’re awake.”

You got on your feet, grasping the back of your head. “Yeah, I woke up a little while ago. Have you seen my boyfriend anywhere?”

She briefly spun to scan the room to check, “Um, not sure. Last I saw, he was on the couch next to you.”

You sighed, “Shit, okay. I gotta find him before he drowns or something.”

But before you left, you felt her hand on your shoulder to get your attention, “Hey, can we talk for a little bit, catch up?”

“Sure.” 

Eunbi pulled you away to a tucked corner of the house with a convenient little window that popped open from the top. It was late, the moon high up in the sky, and you had no damn clue what time it was. You remembered that you left your phone in the room, knowing you’d lose it somewhere if you took it with you, and you were right, because instead, you lost a whole human tonight. 

“Smoke?”

You snorted. “I still don’t do that shit, you know me.”

“Yeah, Jin doesn’t either,” Eunbi chuckled, lighting up her cigarette and blowing a puff out the window. “I’m really happy you came by the way. I was hoping you would—not that I don’t think you wouldn’t come to your own best friends’ Bach party but—“

You chuckled, “Where is this going, Eunbi?”

She was quietly, remorseful, leaning against the window and looking at you with a million words on her mind, but the only ones she could muster were, “I’m sorry for not being around.”

You lightly punched her shoulder, leaning on the window beside her. “Don’t be sorry you’re hanging around your fiancé and planning a whole wedding.”

“But I’m not making time to see you.”

“You’re being fucking happy. You’re getting married, shut up. If you were spending time with me, I would be legitimately concerned.”

A small smile formed on her face, taking another puff, before managing to say anything more. “But…I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. Had to find out from someone who went to the brunch I couldn’t make because I had to deal with catering. I feel like a shitty friend.”

“You’re not, okay? You’ve just been so happy, and you deserve all the fucking happiness in the world. I didn’t want to distract you by making a special period in your life about me, or by taking all your time away from you.”

She flung the cigarette out the window to grab hold of your shoulder, shaking some sense into you. “You wouldn’t be. I will be married to that loser for probably ever but you’re my best friend, I want to make time for you too while I can before this guy steals all your time away from me.”

You shook your head reassuringly, putting your hand over hers. “He won’t. I promise.”

Your fingers interlocked, resting your heads on each other's shoulders as you looked back up at the sky. “You really like him, huh?”

“He’s all right,” you shrugged, a hint of a smile on your face.

“So he checks all the boxes?”

“I’m looking into it.”

You saw her grin from your peripheral, “And that last box?”

“Nosy!” you exclaimed, bumping her hip.

“Come on! Like I don’t know your sex history like the back of my hand!”

You fell silent, suddenly reserved at the topic of sex—specifically at the lack of—and for some reason you can’t find the heart in you to lie about that tidbit. “We’re not…”

Her head pivoted to you dubiously, narrowing her eyes, “Wait. No way…”

“It just needs to be the right moment.”

“Girl, the moment has passed. Look at him and tell me you don’t wanna climb him like a tree.”

Smiling, you exaggeratedly groaned, “Shut up, you're so annoying.”

“He is hot in like this super ripped accountant sort of way and honestly funny as fuck, your type to a tee. What do you mean you’re not in his pants right now?”

“Stop!” You shoved, laughing together like you used to when there was all the time in the world, “When we’re good and ready, we will.”

“Alright. You must really like the guy.”

“Yeah, well,” you began pulling away, being reminded he’s out there somewhere waiting to be found. “I won’t be sure until I find him dead or alive.”

She grinned, waving you off. “Good luck!”

Your search continued through the rest of the house, coming up short on the rest of the first floor after double checking the pool side before heading up stairs. Hushed voices and restless movements could be heard from nearby and behind doors, giving you a clear idea of the kind of things happening on this floor, and you pray to all the gods that you don’t come across something you’ll regret seeing.

“No naked bodies, no naked bodies, no naked bodies.” 

You ran that mantra over and over, warding off the potential of seeing someone’s parts you haven’t seen before or already seen too many times, neither option being a desirable one.

And just as you were about to make it to the end of the hall, just where your room was and the likeliest place he’d be, your wrist was snatched from behind, spinning you around, and your person of interest stood before you with a goofy grin on his face.

“There you were,” you said, sighing a breath of relief.

“Here I am,” he announced, giggles seeping out of him.

“Where did you go? I was looking all over for you.”

He tilted his head to the side, and instead of answering, he just interlocked your fingers and tugged you in his direction, where you aimlessly followed. You were taken outside, somewhere you haven't thoroughly explored yet—but already lightly scoured by a handful a people already there, and now, you and Seungcheol as he claimed an outdoor nook in the very corner draped by vines and branches, as pillows and blankets were threw on to be cushions or stowed away in the corner for extra comfort. The coziest place you’ve ever seen.

“What the fuck? This is gorgeous.”

“Great nap spot. Come.” He tugged you with him, occupying a space that would normally fit two average adults or one Seungcheol, but he was determined to include you, somehow resulting in you mounting yourself on his lap in the open public for anyone around to see. Your eyes flew open, slapping him against his chest as he pulled you near, your knee jerking as you jolted in fear of others noticing. “Are you crazy?”

“They’re watching…” he sang, eyes glazing over off in the distance.

You slightly turned your head to watch his view, seeing a few of your friends off in the distance, coming from the beach or slightly in view from the poolside, that could easily catch you in whatever act you and Seungcheol looked like you were up to. However, at this point, everyone seemed to be in their own world, talking, laughing, minding their own businesses. You weren’t sure if it mattered. 

You snickered, resting your hands on his shoulders and readjusting your knees as they dug into the seat cushions. “You’re gonna go this far?”

“Yep. I have to look like a good boyfriend.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “You had a lot to drink, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know?” he mumbled dumbly, his dimple indented extra deep.

You shook your head in disbelief, dipping your head forward and momentarily colliding with his in a headbutt. You reacted as expected, rubbing your forehead at the slight ache you caused, but from the lack of tact of the receiver, your assumptions were true. “You're so drunk right now.”

His hand rose to your hair, patting it down before finding your ear. As he thumbed over the curve of the helix, he could feel the heat bloom between his fingers. “You look so pretty right now.”

“Cheol,” you tried getting up, but he sat you back down, gripping you by your hips until they met his.

“Stay,�� he quietly pleaded, his eyes glistening under the moonlight staring back at you with utter need that you have no choice but just melt right back in his touch. 

You couldn’t believe the situation happening right now, and neither could your heart in your chest as it started beating at twice its usual rate. All you could focus on was his hands as they traveled up your body, skimming through the thin fabric of your shirt, following up your spine as he let out soft, ragged breaths.

You pressed the pads of your fingers a little deeper into the meat of his shoulders, “S-Seungcheol–” 

“Do you know what will really convince them?” His voice was unrecognizable, deep and indulgent.

You made the ghost of a whimper as a finger travelled back down your body as you responded earnestly. “I don’t think we have to do much more convincing. I think they believe us when we say we’re a couple.”

“But you know what will really convince them, though?”

You were scared to even ask, thinking a single word would burst this bubble you have no idea how you got caught in. “What?” you asked softly.

Your breath caught in your throat as you didn’t even dare blink, following his eyes as his hands made waves up your body. He pushed you against him, reclaiming your hips before puppeting them to roll against the definition of his thigh. Your stomach seized and your shoulders tensed, the sensation bringing you to shock as you beckoned forward at his will, his face being brought closer to yours in the process.

“W-what are you…mmh…” Your thoughts to fend him off ran hollow pulling your gaze up to sink into the titillation, mewls buzzing on your tongue.

The chills that once ran up your body evolved into fire, its heat steadily burning a path from your chest to far below your torso, and your hips developed a rhythm to match his. Not one word was exchanged, unlike the usual berating and bickering that was constant whenever you were within touching distance of each other, the only language that was spoken here were bodies in that tiny space. And that night, Seungcheol looked determined to become fluent in yours.

Seungcheol’s lips parted slightly as he peered at you through his long lashes, his grip growing possessive as his fingers spread, pressing the fullness of his palms into your back. Growing under you was his size, stretching the groin of his linen pants and making it harder to avoid clashing the closer and fiercer you rolled your hips against him.

“Am I doing too much?” he softly murmured, breathing the words into your clavicle.

“N-no,” you answered, finding his eyes and not minding getting lost in them. “Not at all.”

“Then,” Holding your gaze, his hands moved lower and crept under shirt, itching to feel even the hairs that stood on your back, “Can I?”

You nodded frantically, choking back a garbled, “Yes,” before both palms welcomed themselves underneath, clutching you against him to the point his length was wedged between your torsos. 

You heard him bite back a moan from the depth of his throat before his hands trailed up your body, pricking the skin where he ran, his thumbs hooked underneath your bra. He smoothed the pads of his digits from underneath the band, memorizing it from its lace to the silicone that kept it in place, and stopping at your side where the cups of the underwear began.

He finally blinked, the entirety of the act not once having broken eye contact as he touched you, ensuring that every second he was looking at you and you looked at him, as if looking away for even a second meant that all of it would disappear. You showed no signs of protest, and he teased you with his thumb, sliding underneath and over the curve of your breast, watching the quiver of your lips as he inched closer to your stiff peak.

You sucked in a sharp breath, a soft twitch to your leg broke out when his thumb grazed and then circled the nipple, the tension in your stomach tightening more. “S-Seungcheol,” you called out in a weak breath before you rolled your hips again, seeing that he felt every bit of your heat through your ruined shorts.

Pressing his plush bottom lip between his teeth, he shoved his hand underneath the cups, the warmth of his hands fumbling their shape and weight before he gave them both the same fate he let you sample before. He thumbed your nipples with a heady need, leading up to the speed you found yourself grinding on him.

If someone had told you twenty years ago–fuck, a few days ago, that you’d willing sit on Choi Seungcheol lap—let alone dry hump—in the open public, you would’ve told them ‘quite literally to choke on rocks’ for putting that idea into the universe. Yet, at that very moment, you were seeing–experiencing every single second of it, and drowning in the rhapsody that he was leaving you in.

Besides that, you got to feel it as much as you saw it through Seungcheol, who looked more expressive than he’s ever been. You saw it every furrow of his thick dark eyebrows; every sound that passed through full, cherry red lips; every gulp from his thick and biteable neck. Everything from start to finish was embedded in every wrinkle in your brain, and by the look of the flushed and dazed expression of your conspirer, he wouldn’t either.

“I’m close…” you rasped, your hands crawling up in his hair and threading through his locks.

He panted against you, nodded, his fingers wrapping against your sides as his thumbs pushed against your now sensitive buds, scooting you both deeper inside the nook. “Whatever you want…fast, slow…I’ll try to help.”

You softly pouted, the urge to kiss the man you’ve spent months with relearning about, falling and lusting for, burning a hole in your chest. Still, you persisted, desperate to see that gorgeous face and every wrinkle crease the second he’s overcome with his own climax.

“Fuck,” you whimpered before maneuvering your position so he’d lean against the pillows behind him. Restarting your pace–your close race to bliss just out of reach–you pushed your weight deeper, undulating with every grind as the shape of his cock, sat between your bottoms swallowed up by your folds. “Just sit tight.”

He visibly gulped, staring at your clothed pussy within reach before looking back at you. “You just said you were close.”

You leaned in, faces just inches away from each other, chests heaving against one another. “And I can get there again. Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t stop touching me either.”

His eyes briefly drifted, settling on the lower half over your face before coming right back up, leaving you with an, “Okay,” before moving his hands up your shirt again.

It didn't take long for you to regain your momentum, Seungcheol being a helping hand as he teased your nipples raw and made your breasts feel tender to the touch. Your core clenched around the familiar exultation you were seconds from encountering before. “I’m close, I’m close, I’m so fucking close–fuck, fuck!”

“You’re doing well. Don’t stop now, you—ah…” Seungcheol swallowed his thought, clasping his hands around you, thumbs pushing your nipples inversely as something possessed you both, leaving just raw primal movement in its wake.

Drool pooled in your mouth, before dripping down your chin and the cotton of his shirt. The reckless, final moments of your extemporaneous, lewd events near its end as the sounds of your voices fused in a single unit. The only things left to do was clutch on together, riding the last wave, savoring every second of the high.

Sweat was clamming your thighs as you stared at one another, listening to nothing but the sound of each other's pants. A smile broke out on your face as you finally shielded your eyes, covering your timid expression under a confident grin. You lightly scanned the area behind you, seeing it sparse of people with exception of a few still by the pool, trying to distract from the reservation you felt being intimate, and the swirling hectic thoughts they were leaving you in after. “God, I wonder if anyone saw that. I don’t see anyone around.”

“I just ruined a perfectly good pair of pants.”

You snickered, turning to see the stoicism back on Seungcheol’s face as usual. “Look who’s all sober.”

He slightly turned his head, cheeks painted a subtle pink.

“Good job, Virgin,” you backhandedly compliment with a kiss on the cheek.

Seungcheol had a lot on his mind, especially a lot he wanted to say to you and how fucking amazing every inch of you was against him, but nothing could come out, even when you were just positively radiant above him like you were right now, right after the moment you shared. If alcohol did anything useful, it made things easy to spill from his lips, but the words currently on the tip of his tongue were being swallowed by his sobriety, his logic and reasoning that held him back. He knew couldn't deal with these kinds of emotions right now. Not at the moment.

So instead, he decided to carry you, and you emitted a yelp at the volume of a chihuahua in response. You threw your arms over his shoulders on instinct, pressing firmly to the toned build of his body, as he wrapped your legs around his torso, bouncing you to readjust you in his grip and securing you before setting off wherever without a word. You gazed back at him, feeling warm and protected in his arms; it was something you could get used to.

You made yourself comfortable, looping your arms tighter around his neck, “Where are we going? And why are you carrying me?”

“The room. You are my Trojan horse after the shit you pulled out there.”

“That you started, excuse you. And Trojan, hmm? You definitely referenced that on purpose.”

He trotted off a smirk before walking back in the house, ignoring everyone else that hooted and hollered at you both in the compromising position as he carried you off the stairs.

“Shower, please,” he pleaded, dropping you the second you entered the room as he split off to the other side.

“Tch, you’re the one who ruined your pants.”

“I can smell you from over here.”

You held your hands over your body in shame. “Why the hell would you say that to me?!”

He gazed over at you apologetically, “I didn’t say it was a bad smell, just please get decent. You have a lot more self control than I do right now.”

“I do?”

Suddenly, he moved in long strides, reaching you until your faces were inches apart, his heat radiating off him like a furnace. His lips parted temptingly as his gaze migrated over your being as though he devoured you where you stood and did not care who’d watched. “Yes. A fuck ton more.”

You backed away, slowly on the verge of jumping him yourself, while your heart was on the verge of exploding out of your chest. “F-fine, I’ll go shower.”

“Thank you.”

Gathering your things, you thought to check the time on your phone. “Wow, it’s only 1AM.”

“1AM?! No, no, I need to sleep soon,” he ushered you out, “go, go, be quick.”

“Alright, geez.”

You had only hoped the only witnesses to your little exhibitionist act were you two and the shower head that was washing the evidence away. Maybe it was weird, but you didn’t expect to mourn it. You’ve lost the only physical proof of what transpired tonight, but then smiled to yourself knowing that it happened at all. Something about it brought you bliss, knowing he’s there in the other room, waiting for his shower, and then waiting to jump into bed with you.

By the time you got in bed, all you could think about was him coming back, patiently waiting for his arrival as you laid peacefully in bed. It had been a while since you cuddled up with someone, and that someone being Seungcheol made you curious about the type of person he’d be in bed. Did he snore, take up the sheets, have night terrors? Before expanding on more ideas, you heard the faint turn of the door knob, and you quickly closed your eyes. The soft rustle clothes followed while the flat foot steps trotted closer to bed. Finally, you felt a weight dip into the mattress, and you pressed a hand to your heart, feeling how fast it started to race, anticipation trickling inside you and setting until…nothing.

One minute passed, and then two, confusion setting in. You fully swivel your head to see his side of the bed to see him with his eyes closed, fast asleep, soft snores as his chest rose and fell.

“He actually fell asleep,” you whispered to yourself, waving a hand over his face for good measure. “Dammit.”

You slumped flat on the bed, letting out a deep exhale, before looking back at him again, subconsciously tracing over his features that were pretty even while asleep in the darkest of nights. “I’ll be mad at him in the morning.”

When morning arrived, everyone was just about ready to leave, but not after Jin insisted on each and every guest grab some fresh breakfast before hitting the road, ending the trip the bittersweetest of goodbyes. You glanced through your peripheral vision at Seungcheol as you forked at your waffles topped with syrup and freshly picked strawberries, seeing him enjoy his expected lean and clean breakfast without a care in the world. 

“Everyone had a good night,” Jin inquired, nudging the people around him, unfortunately that being Mingyu and Wonwoo.

“Someone had a lot of fun. Too much maybe,” Nayeon emphasized with a grin, not looking up, and everyone decided to randomly pick a victim, ultimately landing on poor Jungkook, the man with his mouth full. 

“Wha’ I do?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not him.” Her gaze flickered in front of her, meeting your eyes, busting out a wide grin when your eyes launched at her.

“Me?!”

“Oh yeah,” Baekho agreed with his girlfriend, “her and boyfie were both drinking a lot that night, fucking blacked out before it was even 10pm. You guys could’ve just drank if you wanted to, you didn’t have to play.”

Nayeon rolled her eyes again, nudging her boyfriend, who pouted back at her confused. “Not what I’m talking about, dummy.”

“Okay,” you interjected, “I think we all had a little fun, mmkay? Let’s leave it at that while our friendships are still intact.”

“Why, hon?” Eunbi was the one to join, catching Nayeon’s drift. “You got something to share with the class?”

“On your guys’ weekend! Pff! No!” You shook your head with a smile that pleaded ‘please end it all for my sake, so help me, God.’

“How thoughtful,” Eunbi chuckled before continuing her meal.

Seungcheol’s foot slid next to yours under the table, catching your attention. “How loud were we last night?” he whispered, keeping a straight face, but his eyes were riddled with fear.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, leaning up to answer. “You really wanted to convince them.”

And from that, his face could no longer be held together, the pink spreading over his cheeks just before he tightly shut his eyes, embracing the impact of reality as it shattered over him like a glass ceiling. He was an animal. He could not touch another alcoholic beverage again. Even isopropyl was too risky.

The girl in front of you witnessed the entire encounter, grinning a smile of pure joy before kicking your foot on the table to your attention. “Hey.”

“Yes, Nayeon,” you said, glazing over your friend’s intrusion.

“Congratulations. I think this is the best one.”

“Please don’t rank my boyfriends like show dogs.”

“But this one has a nice coat and makes you happy, like really happy.”

“Don’t make me climb over there.”

With the back and forth teasing and the final moments of byes and hugs, everyone was off and back on the road to drive at least another three hours back to the city. You slumped against the leather of the car seat, watching as he steered his wheel and safely guided you both back home. A smile stretched over your face just at the sight of him, until you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him. Then you turned away, forcing a frown as you looked at a window.

Yet, minutes would pass by, and not a word would be exchanged. Complete and utter silence. It drove you insane. Did he not notice you at all, or was he that focused on driving? Or was he being the lunatic he always is pretending not to notice?

For emphasis, you crossed your arms, making a show of internal frustration outwardly so he’d somehow get the hint, hoping he'd at least ask you if something was wrong. Still, the silence would stretch forever and that alone was pissing you off. As if you could feel your brain cells slowly die off in this agonizingly, quiet void.

Your eternal inferno is brought to an end when you're brought home, your home, the place you’re hardly at these days when you’re visiting and making time for Seungcheol to play pretend girlfriend except to sleep.

“We’re here. You can leave the clothes behind. I’ll have them washed by the time you come to my place next weekend for the event.”

“Next weekend? You don’t want to see me this week?”

He shook his head without a second to think, your worlds crashing all at once. “Not this week. Lunch also will be forgoed for the time being just until we have the situation at work under control.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s what?”

“You—this weekend—you know what? Okay. Good luck with work.” You unfastened your seat belt, and opened the door, seeing yourself out.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” was the last thing you heard before you slammed the door shut and the car drove off onto the street, leaving you behind in disbelief.

Your arms dropped limp against your sides, entering your apartment, a weight dropped on your chest, and you fell face first onto bed.

Saturday was like something that fell out of pages of a book, torn and pasted on the vision board of a lovesick young girl about the kind of nights they dream of having once they’re older. Something silly, something fun, spontaneous, reckless. Maybe something they’d regret one day but felt right at the moment. It looked colorful as much as it felt colorful. Just pure desire and lost inhibitions, as you connected those many people or that one person.

Sunday was shit. It wasn’t something you wanted to live through, because of free will, you chose not to, spending the rest of the hours of your afternoon and evening feeling bad about yourself thinking about Saturday. It was easy to sleep through, you didn’t need to do anything else.

Then it was Monday. And you had a reason to be mad again, even when your dream flashed back to that wonderful night in that private little nook. You were reminded that he told you to not come over for lunch, so you did the next best thing.

“Hello, everyone!”

“Oh, hi! We were told you wouldn’t come today?” Chan greeted.

“Well, nope, tah-dah! I’m here! So I’m just gonna make the quick lunch drop off, and I’ll be out of all your hair soon!”

“Okay, but, Mr. Choi is a bit on edge today. Just a fair warning.”

“I think I can handle my own boyfriend, buddy. Thank you.” You politely knocked on the door of the office, took a beat, and then entered, seeing that he didn’t even look up from his desk to see the intrusion.

“If it’s not the revisions I asked for, I don’t want it,” Seungcheol warned.

“No revisions, but I brought beef. Protein pack just the way you like it.”

He lifted his head, standing up and sighing. “I told you we couldn’t do lunch this week.”

“You did say that,” you began to retort, dropping the food at an end table, “but, I wanted to see you. After that weekend, we didn’t really get to talking, and I missed you.”

Taking a big risk, you began unzipping your jacket, slowly revealing what little you had underneath, parting to see the red lace that stood out against your skin. His face shot up, urging out of his chair and had him zipping up your jacket for you. “We are in the workplace. Not here,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“Then when, Cheol?” Your frustration bleeding through your voice. “You’re not giving me much to work with.”

He just needed to come right out and say it. There was nothing he could do except tell the truth. “Nothing can or will happen until the event happens next weekend.”

“You’re making me wait?”

“I need to focus,” he reiterated, “in addition to the lunches. I can’t have disruptions right now. I have no focus right now with you here.”

“Like I can? After all of that? I’m seeing that night in my dreams, Choi.”

He exhaled, seeing his words go through one ear and out the other for you. “There’s a really important project that came up, and we just need all hands and eyes on it right now.”

You whined. “But—“

“But nothing. End of discussion.” He left it at that and returned to his desk, hoping to get back to work.

“End of discussion?” you repeated.

“Yes.”

You stormed off to behind his desk, standing right at his shoulder, licking your molars and wondering where he got the nerve to say something like that to you of all people. 

“You don’t get to silence me, I am not one of your subordinates, Choi Seungcheol. Whatever goes on around here is not my business, but what happened between us is entirely something else, starting with what happened that weekend.”

He got up from his chair a slam, causing you to jump, and the pen in his grip was crushed, denting the wood beneath his palm. He stared you down, his glare so venomous and cold you would have felt safer in the arctic wearing a bikini.

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think about how you preoccupy my thoughts every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day?” He leaned forward, his arms fencing you at your side as his hand gripped the edge of the desk, fingernails clawing into the paint. “If I had my way, I’d fucking throw all this shit out the window and spread you on my desk before making every wish and command that comes out of your mouth a reality until you’re begging me to stop.”

Fortunately for him, you didn’t have a rebuttal, wondering now if silence was still an option.

“Now get out, unless you want me to lose it on a stack of an 80 year old lady’s insurance papers.”

He got back in his seat, not looking as you swiftly made your exit out the office, not turning back, concerning eyes that heard the louder parts of the altercation regretfully watch as you left. Once you made it out of the building, your feet speedwalked for the cafe that you were all too familiar with, the one you’ve become a regular at, the one that knew you by name at this point as much as they knew Seungcheol. 

Getting to the front of the line, you grabbed a clean, empty cup from behind the counter, startling the cashier who was seconds away from serving you. Before a single word was uttered from their end, with your whole chest and soul you started screaming into the cup, “FUCK, HE’S SO HOT. I NEED TO FUCK HIM SO BAD.”

You expelled a deep breath, letting the sinful demons escape your body and mind, and then turned to the barista with the same cup, handing it to them saying with the straightest face you could muster asking, “I’ll have an iced americano, please.”

“Sure, I’ll get you a new cup. You can keep that one.”

The weekend couldn't come any sooner, and you were growing irritated with every second of waiting. You tried busying yourself with work, considering you had put it off for the recent events as of late, but even when you started finding the momentum and get your groove back, you’d randomly have his flushed face pop in your head. The sounds of his bliss that left his lips as his hands touched your body.

Fuck.

You hadn’t gone this long without seeing, talking, or even hearing from him. The messages about the forged dates now dried up. As if fake dating felt more fulfilling than the real thing, if you could even consider it that.

You banged your head against a pillow, begging for the week to come by a little faster. And as a sign of good faith, your personal phone went off for the first time in weeks. You picked up, checking your notifications before lighting up, seeing that he's the one to message you last.

The message swiped up immediately, and you clutched your phone to see what he had sent you.

Cheol:🫰

“That’s it?” You threw your phone against your bed, gnashing your teeth before you started pouting alone by yourself, throwing a pillow over your face as you squealed into it, conflicted feelings for comfort and frustration battling it out within you as you knew you deserved more than a mere emoji but were happy that he thought to send you anything at all.

It was then the phone went off again and you quickly picked it up, seeing he sent another message.

Cheol: That was an accident. Sorry.

And your world was destroyed all over again. You squinted at the message, eye twitching, hands shaking. As far as you knew, Seungcheol was dead to you.

Then another message popped up immediately.

Cheol: It’s only one more day. You can wait that long and I know you’re going to ask how I know. I get your read receipts. I’ll see you soon. Good Night.

You frowned, holding the phone to your chest and falling back into bed, reading his last message over and over until your eyes were too tired to keep up.

You hate him for it, but sure, you’ll wait one more day.

The day officially arrived, and you woke up before your alarm clock went off. You leaped off the bed and checked your phone for any new messages, huffing to your dismay, but nonetheless, went off to start your day.

You had gotten some of your things ready to change, grabbing the makeup products you’ve selected from having used the previous free time you had to yourself to perfect the makeup routine, and now all you needed was your date. 

A knock on the door had you rise to your feet and place a hand around a bat you kept for emergencies, being a single person household you never could be too careful. You approached carefully, the other hand holding your phone with speed dial ready, you looked through the peephole, and immediately melted at what you saw on the other end.

The bat and phone fell to the ground while the door swung open, and you stared back at the face of Seungcheol with a bouquet of flowers held to his chest. “It was my department’s idea. They thought you were mad at me for yelling the last time you were around and scolded me to get you something…though I had already planned on that from the beginning—”

You tugged him forward in a hug, the flowers held up to the side in order not to be squished upon impact, but he reciprocated, stroking your back with his full palm as he smiled into your hair.

“Were you going to assault me with a bat?”

“Not important right now.”

The flowers were left in a vase filled with water before you took the stuff you needed and left with him to his place, spending the day together to do whatever you wanted before getting ready.

But apparently, whatever you wanted came with limits.

“Careful, now,” Seungcheol warned, your body in his hands as he rested his back against his couch.

You grinned, combing through his dark hair in his rare form of misshapen and soft without product, smelling of soap and spice. “What’s one little quickie?”

“You want me to lose my virginity to a quickie?”

You jutted your bottom lip in a fuller pout, slotting your hands through a little rougher, “I’m surprised you care that much. I would think you’d ravish me by now.”

He softly chuckled, dropping the smile to intently stare at you looming over him, caressing your chin between his thumb and index. “I very well could, but with the time constraint we have, I can’t risk that.”

You scoffed, “The event is in 3 hours. You think you can outlast 3 hours? You sure are cocky.”

“I want to make it last a whole night, if I can. And who said I’m the one that has to outlast you?”

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek, arousal pooling between your legs at the thought alone. You cried in anguish, feeling the burn of his smile as he gazed back at you tauntingly. “You’re such a tease. Why do you keep riling me up?”

“I’m just giving you a fair warning.”

You shook his shoulders frustratingly, “Stop, it’s hot…”

“I’m not the one in someone's lap right now.”

“You’re the one that pulled me on here! You want me so bad right now, admit it.”

“Of course, I want you, but you could’ve left anytime you wanted to. Your impetuosity will be your downfall one day. ”

You leaned in, pushing a long strand of hair behind his ear, “Fine, at least kiss me a little bit. How have we come this far and not even kissed?”

He thumbed over your lips, “Kissing is too tempting for you.”

“Are you sure you’re not projecting?” You grinned cheekily.

He grinned, letting his fingers fall on the pulse on your neck, accelerating at an alarming rate, “Maybe I am, but tell me right now you can kiss me without thinking about wanting to fuck me.”

“…Fuck!” You shoved yourself off his lap, his hands loosening his reins on your body before you stormed into the restroom with your things. “I hate you, I’m getting ready early!”

Since getting there, you’ve pretty much used every opportunity to infiltrate your—still to be determined—partner’s personal space, and for the most part, he’s welcomed it. He’s even encouraged it by initiating hugs from behind or welcoming you to the warmth of his lap on the couch, despite the fact that there were plenty of other places to sit. You both found that you enjoyed this game of cat and mouse, perhaps built over from the time apart, but you knew eventually tonight, you’d see the end of that tail because that mouse tonight would be yours.

However, for now, Seungcheol kept his healthy distance, while you kept yours. Besides the playful glances in the mirror, or the snarky remarks thrown behind a door or wall, you have seemed to have settled on a momentary truce for the sake of time management. He allowed you the privilege to hog the full-body mirror in his bedroom, which you could only assume was to check his body’s progress given the large tub of protein powder on the dresser beside it. And before either of you knew it, the minutes were ticking by, getting closer to the time of the charity event. 

Seungcheol was just about finished, ready to set out for the evening. His suit was tailored to fit, his cufflinks were properly fastened, and his hair was properly waxed. Now all that was left was his date, hopefully finished getting ready in the neighboring bedroom. 

“Time check. We have ten minutes and counting on the clock until we have to leave. Please...” 

Hearing his voice beckoning from the bathroom, you readily spun from the mirror, standing before him with the reason why the remaining words that were meant to pass his lips were lodged down his throat. With the exception of sleeves draping past your shoulders, every inch of your body was wrapped in a rich plum that reached the floor, hugging your frame in a way the office manager couldn’t even imagine. The smug smile on your face reached your ears as you made your way to him in strides, glimpses of your legs peeking through the slit of the fabric before you stopped just a few feet away, covering the rest of you once again.

“I’m just about done. What do you think?” You asked curiously, hoping your efforts were well received.

He approached you in caution, intently circling you like a vulture until a final decision was made. “Denied.”

Your eyes shot back at him, spinning a bewildered 360 of the dress, not thinking rejection was possible with this appearance. “What?"

“You can’t wear that.”

“Why? At least give me a reason.”

He sighed. “You look good, that’s the problem.”

The ends of your mouth curled, crossing over your chest bashfully as you posed from the side playfully. “Are you worried people will look at me all night?”

Holding you by your shoulders, he led you towards the mirror, forcing yourself to face your own reflection as his shadowed behind yours. “People are gonna look at you regardless…The problem is that I will be looking at you all night.”

You let out pleased laughter before meeting eyes back in the mirror, seeing his hunger festering in his eyes as he gazed at you through the mirrored image. The digits of his hands pressed into your bare shoulders, releasing a chill down your spine. “What was that? About you saying that I’d ravish you?”

Your smile melted right off your face, recognizing that face immediately, but for the first time, he had it on entirely sober. His hands ran down your arms to settle on your hips. His lips beckoned closer the nape of your neck, hair standing as his warm breath ghosted your skin. “D-did I say that?” You asked anxiously, feeling the sensation migrate to the tip of your ears. “I’m not sure.”

“Yes, because you know very well I would, and I am just about three seconds away from exhibiting evidence that supports your hypothesis.”

Giving your waist one last squeeze, he slid his hands, palming over your breasts through your dress and locating your nipples as he ran his touch over them, catching your subtle jolt through the reflection. Catching them between his middle knuckles, he wedged them in a tight pinch, perking up as he cradled your breasts tauntingly in his hands.

“T-the risk, Cheol,” you managed to choke out through your gasps, throwing his words back at him, but your efforts were in vain. His smile briefly graced his face before pressing his gaping mouth on the side of your neck. His dark chuckles hummed against your neck as his half-lidded gaze stared back at you in the mirror intoxicatingly. You had never felt more glued to the ground.

“One…”

He gently kneaded them in his grasp, earning a soft gasp as he pressed his body against yours. The thick lining not doing justice to the body you knew he had underneath and that you craved to see just as much. Meanwhile, his enamel grazed the exposed skin on your neck before full lips pressed down, tasting your skin for the first time. The action caused his bulge to move on its own, twitching against your back, and had him so close to swallowing down his inhibitions to do whatever the hell he wanted.

“D-didn’t you say we’d be leaving soon?” You asked, whimpering. You nervously watched as one of his hands moved south to finger over the slit of your dress, subtly hinting what’s next on his mind.

“You weren't the only one between the two of us that struggled this past week. Maybe I should just forgo everything we have on our agenda tonight and stay here with you…two…”

His hand slid beneath the fabric finally and cupped over your heat. His middle finger tracing over your slit with your panties in the way as he sighed into your neck. He inhaled your perfume as he dragged his tongue across your skin, the slick sensation making you clench around nothing.

“Seungcheol, please…”

“Should I? Should I drop everything and better utilize my time tonight to ravish and fuck you like the monster you make me out to be?”

He pushed his digit lengthwise, wedging between your folds as he rubbed, pulling moans out of your throat. He pressed open mouth kissed on your neck as pressure was placed on your clit, his eyes following how you writhed under his touch, but showed no sign of protest. Even when you verbally conveyed doubt, your hand hovered over his that claimed your core and pushed him closer. Your pleading eyes begged for satisfaction as they stared at him through the mirror, the bottom lip caught between your teeth refusing to reveal your mutual lust, so he took action.

“...Three.��

His tongue landed a thick stripe before diving deeper into the crook of your neck whilst his digits reached past your panties, your moan echoing as it bounced off the walls in response, and he felt your pussy in its rawness as its juices coated him. He gasped into your skin, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before attacking the opposite side of your neck. The hand that held your breast pinching you between his knuckles, teasing the shape in his hands and shallowly groaning in your neck.

He bent you forward, forcing your hands against the mirror as his fingers explored you deeper. From that point, you didn’t see a point in denying it, his fingers inside you meant that you were that much closer to the real thing. Your mewls flooded his ears, his impatience wearing thin, and it worsened as he learned how it felt when you clenched around him. He let out a guttural groan, digging his backside into you as your shared breaths fogged on the glass in the mirror, consuming you both with an insatiable appetite you could only satisfy together.

Meanwhile, you were doing mental gymnastics, knowing the charity event tonight in the back of your mind as the man worshipping you was at the forefront. You had responsibility as his date for tonight to make his appearance happen for the sake of his reputation, for the approval of his superior and because they would be expecting him. But it wasn’t until you stared into his eyes—the ones that fell in a haze of lust and desire for you that you realized succumbing to weakness was a lot more gratifying.

Then a loud alarm went off, vibrating in Seungcheol’s back pocket. All movement stopped, just as did your pleasure, and he removed his lips from your neck while using the hand once fondling your breast to retrieve his phone, sighing at the screen. He pulled away, much to your dismay, and there was not hiding the perplexity on your face as he reverted back to his default state. “I knew this would happen.”

“You set an alarm on your phone?!”

His hand once inside you glistened in your arousal was cleaned up in the matter seconds as he sucked them off clean, smiling back at you with his eyes before getting a quick wash in the sink. Hardly two seconds were spared to give you the time to be shocked that he ate you off his fingers. “There was a risk. I had to be equipped for every possible situation.”

“...You set an alarm on our foreplay knowing it would happen?!”

Instead of answering, he escorted you out of the house and into the car, despite your distress. He chuckled, helping you buckle your seat while you crossed your arms, kissing your cheek before honing his focus on the road. And thereafter, he felt your eyes burning a hole into the side of his head as your horny rumblings became his music throughout the drive. Most of it was incoherent with the exception of few ‘fuck’s or ‘mean tease,’ but as he took your hand in his, you both enveloped in a warmth silence, letting that moment set the mood for the rest of the evening. 

Leading up to the steps of the building of the venue, you expected some level of extravagance, but the venue was to the level neither of you expected, impressing you both upon arrival. Entering, you’re welcomed with the smell of decadent food, old architecture, and wealth. Everywhere you looked, there was something new that’d catch your eye, leaving you in a state of perpetual fascination. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, with his elbow safely linked with yours, had only subtly skimmed the room, trying to find familiar faces and the host of this event.

They looked no further as the hosts themselves, Mr. Lee along with his beautiful wife, came from the sides to greet you both gregariously, welcoming you to enjoy the food, the live entertainment, and what else that was being offered while the night was young. You both thanked them, complimenting them on the choice in venue and told them you were looking forward to the rest of the night.

They bidded you a farewell as of then and continued to greet other guests, letting you pass through the threshold into the ballroom area, the heart of the entire building. It bustled with soft jazz and well dressed guests, all speaking to one another with a drink in one hand and passed appetizers in the other.

Before you could breathe another word, a tray of champagne flutes was shoved in your faces. “Champagne?” The waiter asked.

You plucked the flute right out of Seungcheol’s hands the moment he selected one and placed it back on the tray. “No, not tonight. Dry night,” you politely smiled at the waiter before they moved on to the next poor sap within distance.

You looked at your date, staring at him with a stern expression as he raised an eyebrow. “I did you a favor. Drinking will only impede on your efforts to abstain,” You said, mocking his tone of voice.

He gave you a smug grin. “Although you’re mocking me, I’m proud of you. Especially for knowing the word impede.”

In playful irritation, you licked the back of your molars before roughly tugging him along to the refreshment spread and with his dimpled grin hugging his cheeks as he trailed after you.

Throughout the night, Seungcheol saw faces new and old, getting as many names and business cards as he possibly could. Though he knew he was ready to leave as soon as he arrived, prepared with objectives and set of goals that would better him business wise. Nevertheless, he found himself enjoying other people’s company, but the reason for that was you. 

You lit up the room, like you’ve lit up the last couple months you’ve seen each other. He pretended he didn’t notice it before and realized it’s something he wouldn’t be able to deny now. He hadn’t intended on gaining a new fear, he had no choice in the matter. Losing you was something he couldn’t put himself through again.

As a kid, Seungcheol had no control over his life. His parents had found out he had been getting distracted. Somehow, they learned he spent time outside of practice, in addition to skipping them, and with a girl nonetheless. They decided to nip the problem in the bud.

At some point, all of the competitions, all the pressure to please his parents and fit their mold, had made him believe that you–the person he had gotten the closest to–wanted to sabotage him and his accomplishments. He was told you were someone that would weaken him, that would dull his senses. An obstacle in the way of his true potential. He didn’t want to believe it, and initially he didn’t, until he took notice of the friendships you created outside taekwondo classes, how warm and familiar they looked, as if the one you two had wasn’t anything special. It made him angry, and he grew this animosity towards you. Suddenly, the words that were being shouted at him were starting to feel as if they had some truth.

At eleven years old, at the peak of hormones, when young Seungcheol saw you, he saw red and didn’t even want to speak with you. You tried your best to see his frustration and get through to him, but he had already gotten too far, or at least you thought he had. One day at practice, you found rocks in your shoes, rocks sharp enough to cut through skin. You screamed at what felt like an indescribable pain, forced to get stitches on the soles of your feet and avoid the ground for about a few weeks.

With the events that happened recently, all evidence pointed to Seungcheol, and although you didn’t want to believe it, who else could it have been? He was worried. Of course, he wouldn’t have done that, but then he heard you start pointing fingers. Now, he thought this was one of your tricks. One of those things you had set up to ruin him. Just like your presence fucked with his mind and caused him to be the weakest version himself to ever exist. And yet, he still cried for you, hoping that you were still okay.

But it turned out his parents just needed a little money and some help from a third party to accidentally drop a few loose rocks and spread some middle school gossip. 

Eventually it all became too much. You were forced apart. Seungcheol’s parents moved him away, and your parents never let you do taekwondo again. And nothing ever tied you back together. Until a couple months ago.

He hadn’t learned that until years later until adulthood, just before he cut contact with his family. The anger he once had for you had evolved to guilt, and since forging the contract to fake date, he made a commitment to himself to keep you at arm’s length. He couldn't do that any more. Obviously. But not because he had an affinity for you.

You made him come to realize that everything goes according to plan, but not always on his plan. Whatever he had scheduled in his agenda, or was on his long lists of tasks, it didn’t matter. Timing had a way of steering your boat, often off course, and sometimes you just had to be along for the ride. 

“We can’t leave yet!” You whispered, your giggles softly echoing from the walls.

“We’re not trying to leave,” Seungcheol softly retorted, dragging you in the darkness of a dark corridor, deprived of guests and warm lighting.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, “Then, what are we doing?”

“I…wanted to get some privacy with my girlfriend.”

You melted, taking his hands in yours and swaying them gently in the air. “You’ve never called me that before. Not even when…you know.”

His hand brushed over your waist, pulling you towards him, gazing at you with tenderness in his eyes you couldn’t even fathom for words. “Amongst the lies, I didn’t want that to be one of them.”

You softly sighed, burying your head into his chest until he gently pulled you back by your cheeks, cupping to feel the heat of his palms fuse with the heat of your face. You were putty in his grasp, malleable to his touch, following his hands as he swayed you to the muted sounds of the music seeping out of the doors leading through the ballroom. Nothing could take you away from him. Part of you envied the fact that he was experiencing all these feelings, knowing it was his first, but you wondered if you had truly ever felt this way for anyone else.

“What are you doing to me, Choi Seungcheol?” You uttered in awe.

He let out a wistful sigh, a soft chuckle making past his lips. “I’ve been wanting to ask you that same question.”

He thumbed the side of your face, parting his mouth as you radiated back at him with anticipation, and slotting your lips between his. He held you with a gentle hand, holding you as if you were delicate enough to break if he wasn’t careful, languidly moving to your comfort, and warmth bloomed in his chest feeling you kiss him back. You threw your arms around his neck, deepening your lip lock as your heart tightened in your chest, the once ache and longing you’ve felt when reuniting with this man finally resolved by a chaste kiss. 

As you reluctantly parted, you were overcome with tears, staring back at him with flushed cheeks and quickly his thumbs were placed under your tear ducts. His rounded eyes ran over you in concern, while holding your face for a clear inspection. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head reassuringly, gripping the lapels of his suit. “I liked it…I like you. I like you so, so much.”

He smiled relieved, kissing your forehead with his. “I like you,” he softly confessed, “yesterday, today, tomorrow, and always.”

Your smile broke out, and now you met him halfway, holding his body against you as you cherished his lips longer than the first and savored how they melted together effortlessly. Holding you by the waist and feeling you tangible under the heat of his palms, Seungcheol was in bliss knowing that every ounce of your entire being was his. He deepened his impression on you remembering that, and you returned the gesture. Gradually, the warm tenderness transitioned into a feverish rush, moving as if you were in a race with time.

The once sweet kiss festered to the extent of muffling moans when you suddenly tugged on his bottom lip with your mouth, tension coiling in an already aroused man’s stomach. That caused you to be backed against a wall, his torso pinning you down with his body flushed against yours as his tongue learned to trace the inside of your mouth. You held him by the back of his neck, carding your fingers impulsively through his styled hair, growing reckless and ignorant to your surroundings with only sex on your mind. And like minded, your boyfriend got bold sliding a hand through the slit and hooking a leg to his side. He took a full stroke down its length before it reached up your thigh and finally the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh in a tight grip and unearthing a whimper that was too late to suppress.

Your lips parted for a moment, giving him an accusatory glance before he quickly offered his snap rebuttal of, “I told you this dress would be a problem,” before closing the distance once again.

In the darkest part of that corridor, you shared an unforgettable moment, brimming it with as many kisses and intimate caresses as possible until it had to be cut short when Seungcheol quickly realized this vicinity was also on the way to one of the bathrooms if the other happened to be unavailable. Soon after, you both enjoyed the rest of the evening the best you could in the ballroom, doing your share of participating in charity bids and eating desserts that would later come out. The night went as smoothly as it could’ve and lasted a little longer into the night until guests were starting to leave, giving the strategic office manager an opening to make an exit as well. Then that's when the real festivities began.

You practically raced him to his front door, feeling him crash into you from behind with his lips against your neck as you barely passed through, put in the code, and let the automatic lock fulfill its purpose. Shoes were kicked off to who knows where as teeth clumsily clicked together, impatience setting you both ablaze. Seungcheol, hurling his jacket on the ground, claimed your face in one hand, squeezing the meat of your ass in the other through the slit of your dress and hiking it up to your waist.

“Fuck, this dress,” he grumbled, meeting your hips with his to feel the build up swelling in the crotch of his pants, emitting a moan from your lips as you clawed over his torso.

You fiddled over his buttons, undoing them and tossing the dress shirt aside and leaning against a wall and getting into the habit of swirling his tongue with yours as he crushed himself against your lips.

“You really had nothing to drink?” You joked, tracing over his abdomen to feel his tense under your palms.

“I wanted to be sober for this. Now how the fuck do you take this damn thing off?”

You gave a wide grin. “Zipper on the back.”

He flipped you over in an instant, your palms instantly pressed on the wall as he tried to find the zipper so seamlessly hidden in the garment work.

“Finally.” As he pulled it down, he left with another big surprise, one that he should’ve realized from the beginning if he hadn’t been so blind in lust. “I thought I felt something different when I touched you today, but the entire time, you had no bra.”

“You can’t wear one with this dress,” you justified. “And I saved you the rookie mistake of having to struggle with taking off the bra for the first time.”

“What makes you think it’s the first time?”

You snapped your head at him. “Did you—“

He chuckled, kissing you along your spine, “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I’m entirely clueless. I think I’ve proven that more than enough.”

He reached underneath the dress to follow up your chest, feeling your breasts in both his hands as his index fingers stimulate your buds enough to perk. Landing a final kiss to the small of your back, he straightened back up, lips reaching your ear. “But don’t worry, I’ve never had to do that for anyone. I was just really excited to do it on you.”

His tongue flicked at your ear before biting, grinding himself against your ass that backed into his touch, earning him a mewl from the depths of your throat. 

“I really can’t get you out of my head sometimes,” he admitted, letting the straps of the dress fall along with the weight of the rest of it. He let out a guttural groan at the reveal, teeth sinking into your shoulder to contain himself. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and coaxed him to flip you back over, leaving him to face your erect buds pointing back at him, the soft curves of your breasts, and almost every flushed, naked inch—with the small exception of your clothed, drenched heat—of your body. 

“And now I never fucking will,” he griped, breathlessly.

“Cheol, please, I’m already so fucking wet,” you cried.

He held up a shaking hand and ran the other repeatedly through his hair in anguish, catching his breath as eyes running over you in clear bafflement. “I’m really trying to process everything I’m looking at right now, wow—fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You sighed, feeling hotter the longer his eyes lingered on your body, but growing equally as agitated. “If you don’t do something right now—so help me, god—”

And right at that second, he was on his knees, fingertips at the top hem of your panties before pulling them down to your ankles as his eyes never left yours. His lips puckered, parting anxiously kissed up your shins, leaving a trail of migrating goosebumps. “Tell me what I should do, I’m not above being taught right from wrong.”

You covered your face with the back of your hand, hiding your diffidence, “F-from down there, are you crazy?”

His lips continued their worship, hands grasping at your thighs to spread them apart, leading up to your inner skin lightly covered in film of your overflowing arousal. To earn a wanton moan, his tongue ran a long stripe, dragging his bottom lip with him, before sucking the rest of you off clean. As the squelching reached your ears, tingling sensations dispersed throughout your hands and toes, furling your digits as your heels dug into the floor.

Your shallow gasps exited your body as pleasure entered, feeling him delve between your folds. Albeit, it reflected on the extent of his experience, but it showed promise, and as soon as he learned to follow directions, he proved just how much he was committed to learning the craft.

“Mmh, move a little higher.”

“Higher,” He raised his finger, “there?”

You chuckled, “Too high now, a smidge lower.”

“There?”

“Now it’s too low, again.” You grabbed him by the back of his head, stared back down at his pretty rounded eyes, before aligning his lips correctly in the smack middle, his mouth curling up at his target in relief. “Bingo.”

You’re scoffing at him, thinking he’s reacting as if he’s the one who uncovered the clit, until you felt him suck, striking you down with a ripples of shock as fire pooled and then exploded in your abdomen. The suction tensed your body before he reintroduced his tongue in sharp flicks, and you can’t help the strength you put into roughly yanking his hair, only for this manic laughter to vibrate up and your blooming core.

“Laughing?” You asked between clenched teeth, “while you’re driving me–ah–nuts?”

“Just happy this is a particular skill you can teach me,” He responded cheekily.

“You’re such a smartass.”

He raised a thick eyebrow before penetrating his tongue through your folds while his top lip grinded on your bud. Endlessly, his jaw hungrily worked into your pussy to the sound of your voice, noting how you would clench around his tongue, until he was tasting cum—your cum—in his mouth for the first time. Somehow, just the taste fueled the greed already instilled in him, his eyes blazed with a childish sense of mischief.

Now you were really wondering whether teaching him was a good idea if he was to learn this well that quickly.

Seungcheol tried making it upstairs, but with the way you were bruising his lips made him antsy, impatient, and plain fucking horny. He dropped you at the top of the steps, your bare ass kissing the cool laminated wood. “I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

“Cheol!” Your tits found his mouth, sucking and drawing circles with tongue as he single handedly tried unbuckling his pants kneeling on the steps. “The room—ah—it’s just right there!”

When the belt buckle broke free, he unlooped from his pants and threw it behind him, the clang of the metal and slap of leather descending down the steps. “I feel like I might explode if I’m not inside you right now,” he rasped.

You cupped his cheeks—seeing lust starting to cloud voice of reason—and tried to ease him in with a sweet smile. Soothing him with a calming voice, you reined in his attention. “Look at me. Do you have protection on you right now?”

He shook his head frantically, “It’s in the room.”

“As hot as it would be to do it right here, right now, we need that, okay? We just have to take a few more steps, and then you can do anything you want with me. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?”

Seungcheol froze, mouth agape, visibly absorbing the words that just left your lips, and you wondered if you had just killed the mood—or worse, his boner. You gulped, parting your lips to retract your statement if you needed to before he crashed his lips on yours. He pulled you between his teeth, sucking and devouring at your lips as the tent between his legs prodding at your thigh twitch incessantly. Swiftly, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his torso and arms around his neck.

“I can be a good boy…I can be a real good boy…” he went and started bolting into the bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed, climbing on top of you and reclaiming your lips with ravenous need. As well an incline of sharp breaths, you heard him struggle getting his pants off, feeling the sweat of his skin adhere to the fabric as they chafed his thick thighs. “Gotta be fucking kidding–”

“Hey,” You softly whispered, caressing his cheeks hot to the touch. “Let me help you.”

You pushed him off the bed to land on his feet, sinking your knees into the mattress, and patiently pulled the leg of the pants off his thigh to his ankles one at a time. He loomed over you anxiously, his thighs tingling as your nails brushed against him, roaming up and breaching the fabric of his briefs. His breath hitched in his throat, his teeth clenched and jaw locked in place, as your eyes slowly met, sultry with the soft pout of your lips and gentle batting of your eyes.

You fingered at his waistband, stretching the elastic. “Do you want me to help with these too?”

His mind went blank, fuck. This is why he drank. He swallowed the confirmation that burned and died on his tongue before finally nodding, stroking the back of your head encouragingly. He pushed his bottom lip in his mouth to bite down, watching as you advanced towards him when suddenly your teeth made contact with his torso.

Eyes shooting at you to see the heady look in your eyes as your enamel scraped down his abdomen, letting goosebumps take real estate up his arms and legs, and bite down on the hem before you took a cheeky pull. You let out a soft laugh, the breath that came with it producing a violent lurch that joined you both a tad more closer, and your lips now found themselves kissing his abdomen as his size nuzzled under your chin. His mouth dropped, his groan melting into moans as his eyes stayed lecherously glued to you, managing to choke out, “Sorry.”

You softly hummed before continuing. Gradually you pulled back by the waistband, teeth inevitably grazing skin, lips lightly brushing over the shaft, until you finally unraveled him as he landed on your face with a flop.

The image could’ve put him in cardiac arrest; he wasn’t even sure if he was alive now.

“Oh gosh,” you cooed, watching the pink on his face turn a bright red. “No wonder you can’t control yourself. You’re huge. I’d be horny all the time too with this log in my pants.”

“I can make that happen.”

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden change in tune. “We’re calling your manufacturer to get rid of your humor setting.”

“So you think I’m funny?”

You took a beat. “What are you doing?”

“…I don’t know. My cock on your face is making me sound stupid. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism.”

With an airy laugh, you let his briefs fall to his ankles as the head of his cock ghosted over your mouth. Licking your lips, your tongue flicked at tip before leaving a small peck, leaving a titillating shiver run down his spine. “Then why don’t you close that pretty mouth and let mine take care of that for you?”

Without getting his answer, you descended to the base, tongue licking the underside of his shaft before you wrapped your lips and sucked on the head, and all with no hands. His nails dug into his thigh, deep white crescents forming as you bobbed deeper, your cheeks hugging tighter around his girth. A distraught sigh slipped past his firmly pressed lips as the sensation of your tongue swirling against his veins to taste his musk and engulf him in a slick, sweltering heat.

“You…you’re really…damn it,” he grunted, his hand claiming the back of your head as you’ve already reached half his length. “You’re…you’re really gonna take all of it?”

Enthralled with a sense of challenge, you batted your lashes and inhaled a sharp breath before your mouth sank down. Your cheeks hollowed, letting the pressure rub against the perimeter, gripping him in your mouth as the saliva that pooled eased him inside, and gradually got closer to his groin as you swallowed more. In turn, his grip grew tighter, gathering more of your hair to hold it high and out of way, your pretty face and swollen lips in clear view. 

“Fuck…I’m…Why are you so good at this?” He softly whined before you’re just about over an inch away to reach his base, feel him hit the back of your throat.

You moaned with him inside your mouth, drool dripping along your chin, undulating him at an unforeseeable pace that he could only watch as he dipped deeper inside you. Your hand flattened against his abdomen, caressing and tracing over his form before clasping over his sides, digging your fingers in his torso to grip him before your lips reached the groin. You tightly shut your eyes, letting the cock squeeze down your throat, and you held him in place as tears collected in your eyes.

Seungcheol carried out a heavy groan, softly rocking his hips in your mouth when he felt himself twitch, bursting with arousal, and he couldn’t handle the pressure seeing the anguish on your face. As gently as he could, he pulled you right off him, ensuing them coughing, gagging, and gasping for air as his hands fell off your hair, cradling your cheeks in his hands as your makeup visibly streaked down your face. “Why would you hurt yourself like that?” he growled.

And despite the look of suffering, you smiled, kissing into his palm. “Because I wanted to feel you down my throat,” you answer plainly, as if it was the normal response in the world.

His cock softly perked, quickly shielded it in his hands before you took them away and held the cock up to your face once more. Your lips curved to the sides in a soft kiss, thumbing over a vein. “You never thought of me deep throating you before? I have.”

“I…I never considered the possibility, honestly,” he quietly admitted.

“Well, this time watch, and don’t stop me.”

You fisted him at his base, spitting on him and dropping a long translucent ribbon stretching from your lips before you welcomed him back in your mouth. He tried refraining his hands from seizing your efforts, unsure what to do with them until you took one and let it fall back on your hair, guiding him to push your head down to take control.

This was such foreign territory, he didn’t know what was good for him. He just found out sex—or the theory of it—felt good about a week ago. Before that, he’s only had about a handful of masturbation sessions, none of which were exceedingly successful and mediocre at best, and not without your help. Besides, he’s only ever thought about what would make you feel good, not himself, so it didn’t really matter. He just knew he didn’t think he could find the raw emotional and animalistic feelings he’s had for you in anyone else even if he tried. You put his head somewhere out of his own body and now, he needed to trust you, like you were trusting him.

He took your hair in his grip and watched you stretch his cock between your lips, getting closer to getting pulled over his entirety and hitting the back of your throat, only this time, he’d let you. As you inched closer to his groin, he found himself observing with bated breath, jaw fallen slack as his hips slowly rolled into your mouth, teetering to the edge of conquest.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He muffled his moans in his fists as you ran him in your mouth, gagging on him as you reached the final destination and let him plug your airways. The squelching and moisture burned his ears as you built tension in his cock, slobbering and making every second of suction worth the loss of oxygen. You dragged his torso, pulling him down until he had you lying flat on your back, wantonly sucking with sheer hunger and desperation like you’ve been wanting the past week since that Bach party until you had a Seungcheol cock shaped mold for a throat.

He couldn’t even hold himself back, towering over you as hands balled into the sheets and knees dug into the mattress. He buried his head into his duvet as his stomach clenched, letting the waves of his orgasm follow through his hips and shake as they took the form of thrusts into your mouth, combusting inside you helplessly and every ounce of ivory white squeezed down your throat, lumpy pumps visibly rolling beneath the skin of your neck.

“Fuck!”

He rolled off you, throwing a hand over his eyes and overcome in embarrassment as the red covered every inch of his body while white flooded your mouth and seeped past your impish smile.

“Why would you fucking do that? That's the last thing I wanted to do? Shit.” Seungcheol whined, burning his face in a pillow.

You crawled over him, chest to chest as you rested your forearms over his clavicle. “A little revenge for what you fucking did a little before we left for that event.”

“This was way worse. And I apologized.”

“No you didn’t!”

“Me getting on my knees was the apology.”

“You thoroughly enjoyed that.”

“A win-win,” he brought your head down to taste your lips, surprisingly not repulsed by the fact that his own organ and release has been inside you, even licking the bit of it from the corner of your lips. “So…in two minutes, can you let me put my dick inside you already—between your legs so we’re being clear?”

You laughed so hard, before pressing your cheek against his. “Yes. God, yes.”

“Nevermind, I can’t wait.”

He toppled over you, pressing his weight over you, nipping your ear before reaching into his bedside, grabbing something just out of view that you barely make out in the corner of your eye.

“The party favors from last week? You still have those? I thought we lost them.”

“Did you ever look at them?”

You shook your head, unsure. “Maybe a quick look before I threw it in the bag.”

He uncovered something shiny in colorful packaging and waved it over your face. Your eyes shot open in pleasant surprise. “Condoms. Flavored condoms. This has Eunbi written all over it.”

“There’s also flavored lube, sex dice, and a full can of whip cream for some reason. Everything else seemed normal,” he added with a question mark.

“Unfortunately, flavored condoms would’ve only been useful about a minute ago before you exploded inside my throat.”

He cleared his throat, tossing the colorful wrapping before holding on to something else shiny and familiar. “No worries. They also included unflavored. Trojan, your favorite.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you softly scoffed, before his mouth stole your voice, mingling your breaths. 

“No,” he refuted in a breathy tone, “you are.”

His upper thigh nudged against your molten heat and let your wetness coat his lower body. He ripped open the wrapping out of view, carefully looking down to lift his torso and roll rubber over the length before smiling when you helped him secure it in place. Your eyes met, exacerbating that heat that felt as tangible as your intertwined bodies, as the key to putting it out laid stiff and snug in between. 

Your hand combed through his hair, the fusion of sweat and spice wafting over you as your legs hooked against his sides. “Put it in me…”

His fingers caressed over your slit, feeling you soak his fingers. “You’re really wet,” he breathed, swooningly.

“And I can’t wait any longer.”

“Me neither.”

The curve of the head prodded at your entrance, rubbing against your slick folds before easing through your entrance and exhaling a deep breath of relief. You quelled a moan threatening to spill from your lips, clasping your hands over your neck as he cushioned the pressure with his mouth on yours. He felt your stiff peaks and the curves of your breasts softly rub against his chest, pressing his hand to your waist as your back arched closer to his touch.

Seungcheol’s soft groans heated your cheeks as his hips dipped deeper between your legs, pulsing in soft angled thrusts. The way you fluttered around his fingers earlier that day was what you were doing now around his cock, driving him up a wall, putting him through a fit of shakes, and he peppered frenzied kisses on your face in response. 

“You drive me crazy,” he achingly whispered.

You moaned as his lips buried in your neck, mouthing over your throat as his teeth lightly grazed skin, feeling him fill you deeper with the submerge of every inch. “Cheol,” you quietly murmured, your eyes fluttered in and out of focus, “Fast, slow…whatever you want, I can take it.”

He moved sweaty strands of hair out of your way, “I want you to enjoy it too.”

“It’s you. You know I will,” you reassured before propping your legs on him and clamping down, slamming him against you to get the full taste of his arousal and hitting the hilt deep within you, earning a guttural groan unearthed from the depths of his throat. He thought he was starting to get used to your body, and sometimes not at all. Not when you do this.

“You’re…you’re so fucking impatient,” he hissed, clinging to you against in contrary to his tone.

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, grinding up hungrily to grow friction between your clit on his groin, muffled whines being pulled out of you as Seungcheol dragged himself out to only plunge himself back in. Your teeth sunk into his shoulder, nails dug into his back. You held onto that sensation until he duplicated it again and again, leaving you slack-jawed as he turned one-two-three thrusts to an endless cycle.

“Cheol, oh my god,” you moaned, throwing your head back into the sheets, your digits furling and tension in your stomach coiling.

“Yes,” he managed to muster, clearing the messy hair away from your face, endeared by the way your legs twitched around his torso and how your eyes glisten with adoration that made him feel loved and made him never want his eyes to stray. “Tell me.”

“You’re making me feel so good,” you delicately cooed.

“Yeah?” He sweetly cupped your face, rolling his hips before taking a sharp thrust. “I feel good inside you?”

You nodded, your hand ran in his hair, wistfully staring back as you licked your lips. “In me so deep,” needy hips snapping back into him. “Fucking me so good.”

“Shit,” he moaned, clenching his abdomen in pride before his thrusts hastened. Eyes ripping open, you threw your head forward, your nails penetrated his forearms, you bellowed a carnal roar, startling him but not stopping him.

“That hurt?”

“No…More…” you growled in anguish, your appetite far from vanquished. 

Your eyes rolled back as skin collided like cymbals, crashing and burning against one another loudly and hard. Everything around you started to fade out of view until it was just Seungcheol, who would stop at nothing to please you. And please you he did when your lips slotted together, tracing the shape of our mouth with tongues before you felt it peeking, teetering on the edge of its arrival, clawing at your door.

“I’m close,” you harshly whispered, “Fuck, I’m so close.”

He was smart, he took the hint. “Keep going? Or go faster?”

“…faster?”

“Okay.”

“Wai—ah-ahh—“

You squeezed around him, tightening every limb as it clung to every part of him as he rammed into you, somehow still rock hard, and with energy left to give it to you harder. You felt every inch of him in that moment of ecstasy. His girth stretched your walls, his length hollowing you out until you’re nothing without him and you might as well be, and your tongue sinfully on stuck his name as it branded you. 

“I’m cumming, Seungcheol! I'm cumming!”

Your stomach would tense, his name coming out as a sound of anguish, plead, elation. You latched on to him, holding on as your release may adhere to him, spilling on him and only him as you shook, trembling before he reclaimed your lips, his distraction soothing and easing your mind.

“Hey,” he softly muttered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “You okay?”

“More than that,” you quietly answered, with a growing grin.

“You…kinda lost it there.”

You rolled your eyes, swiveling your head away from him. “Oh, shut up.”

He grinned before landing on his back beside, quickly disposing of the condom just out of view.

“You’re way worse than me,” he pointed out, making you slap him on the chest.

“Enough.”

But he didn’t seem to think so. “So, that’s what nymphomania is like firsthand.”

“Okay, you wanna have a go? I have energy for a fight, I can still fight, you know,” he pulled you towards him, holding your arms in place and feeling you writhe in his grip.

“That's alright. I don’t mind, as long as I’m on the other end of it.”

For a while, it’s silence and just each other's presence. You both laid side by side, your sweat and fatigue just hanging in the air for you both to bask in. You nuzzled up to him closer, feeling him turn to his side to face you, and your eyes lock as they always do: with a strike of electricity right through them. 

“You’re so pretty,” he complimented softly, gently touching your face, the heat blooming rapidly between his fingers.

“And you’re so…hot. Shit.” You laid back down flat, your cheeks and ears burning in clarity.

He looked over you, eyebrow ascending in puzzlement before chuckling and retrieving you. “Is my sexual appeal frustrating to you?”

You groaned. “You’re so annoying. Had to be you of all people, oh my god,” you exasperatedly grumbled.

He spun you back to face him, his smile the most annoyingly handsome thing about him. “I would hope it’s me, because for me it’s only you. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want to look. I know you’re who I want.”

“…Fuck!” You shouted from the top of your lungs before crashing your lips onto his, revving your engines and reigniting the fire kindling in your stomach that had only been briefly subdued.

Even at all hours of the night, when you lost track of time,  you never got tired of that face. Flushed, elated as he faced you, swollen mouths meeting harmoniously, as your bodies fit together and you claimed his lap. His length plunged inside as you sank down on him, colliding against the muscles of his thigh as your walls fluttered around his cock to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your arms looped securely around his neck as one of his arms tucked over your back closed and teased a bouncing, lively breast with the other.

“Like that please,” you pleaded, breathlessly.

“That good?” He asked, moving his hand to the meat of your ass, undulating you towards him. “Do you like that?”

You nodded, every nerve in your body restless as he stimulated every possible sense you had, making you reel with pleasure. “Fuck yes, like that, shit.”

He whimpered as your thighs squeezed around him, bowing his head to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling until you squealed uncontrollably, dragging your hips with the force of his hands for better control.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he gritted before planting his shins on the mattress, lifting his ass and groin up before thrusting up into with accelerated strength and speed.

You let out a large gasp before that familiar growl, clinging to him before your nails pierced and clawed his back muscle, feeling him reach there depths that have only led to happy endings. “Fuck, cheol!”

“Shit, what I wouldn’t do for you…for your pretty face, pretty eyes, pretty voice, pretty hair—fuck, it makes me want to put my cum in you!” Tension rising in his legs as he thrusted harder, anything you once saw in front of you was gone when your vision had disappeared to the back of your mind.

“Mmmh, that’s so good, don’t fucking stop!” You raggedly cried.

His hands splayed over the curve of your ass, squeezed and bounced you on him deeper while sucking and running his tongue over your tits as if he was starved. Nothing could pry either of you off each other, and the noises that culminated and bleed through the walls of Seungcheol’s home were enough loud deafening proof of that. 

Each stroke, each thrust, each mind numbing orgasm–if a round led to one at all and most of the time it did–seemed as if it was better than the last. Seungcheol was right to assumed he’d make it last the whole night, because by the time they had been too tired to continue, birds were chirping out the window, but at least you both had finally gotten some rest. 

“So what now?”

He chuckled at the sudden question in the middle of your morning snuggle, feeling your warm embrace after an estimated four to five hours of sleep. Not ideal in terms of recommended amount of sleep for a healthy adult, but enough. “You’re asking me?”

“Well, we’ve been ‘dating’ in the eyes of everyone for the last 2 to 3 months, but some things are gonna look a little different now, I’m guessing. So what now?”

He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead with his. “People mind their business, and we enjoy it.”

“We enjoy it,” you repeated, rather liking the sound of that.

And he nodded, and you smiled knowing the answer was perfect just as is and anyone who questioned had their own problems to deal with.

“Can I still visit your office sometimes?”

He softly scoffed, parting your hair tenderly. “You can do whatever you want. They obviously love you a lot more than they like me.”

You smiled mischievously, climbing on top of his lap, and kissing the top of his nose. “Good, I get to keep you all to myself.”

He raised a playful brow, letting out a sigh of realization. “So, you’re that kind of girlfriend.” 

You lightly punched him in the arm, but he caught your fist in his hand, unfurling your fingers to interlock with his, flustering you with his touch as he scooted closer, straightening your joined bodies against the bed frame.

“I like it. I won’t have anything to worry about. Except. Maybe, what I'll have to worry about is how I’ll get anything done when I’m kissing you,” he said with a kiss, “Touching you,” he said with a caress to your backside and pebbling your skin, drowning you in a mellow and decadent voice, “and making sweet, sweet love to you.”

And there went the little rest you had and the rest of your weekend. 

Eventually, weekends had to end and Mondays came around again. Seungcheol started to understand why people hated them so much. Workdays and long hours at work meant he had less time for you and making up for time they’ve lost in the week they’ve lost with the stress of the project. However, that was over now. He could go back to his regularly scheduled programming. And now, he knew not to take a good thing like you for granted and with a lighter workload, his work and life balance seemed more manageable. 

“Mr. Choi isn’t back yet?” Minghao asked, seeing an empty office.

Chan perked up from behind his cubicle, shaking his head. “He's still out on his lunch date with his girlfriend. Somewhere special, I heard.”

Jeonghan winced in disagreement, smirking, “Are they really out? I could’ve sworn I saw his car still in the parking garage in his spot.”

Chan shrugged, walking around with an imaginary question mark above his head as he launched his crumbled up take out bag into a disposal bin and missing before hurrying along to properly throw it away. “Maybe they took a cab.”

Joshua pretended to ponder, swiveling his chair to the center of the office floor, “Or…”

They flocked to him, ear in first, eyes all rounded in interest as they anticipated the words that would come next out of their colleague’s mouths. Joshua rubbed his fingers curiously, conspiracy on his mind as he closed his hands around his mouth in secrecy, a hushed tone coming out the other end. “Maybe, they’re doing something not safe for work on the company's dime. Right. Now.”

“Ey,” Seokmin scolded, “It’s Mr. Choi, we're talking about Choi Seungcheol. As loving as a partner I’m sure he is, he’s responsible enough to avoid those kinds of situations. It’s probably traffic or something.”

Mumbling in agreement, everyone fell closer in line with Seokmin’s theory and resumed work. Meanwhile, Jeonghan nudged Joshua, who had been his cubicle neighbor and work friend for the better half of three years. “I don’t think you’re far off, but the chances of him doing something that scandalous are slim to none. Before his current girlfriend, I hadn’t even seen him speak to a woman.”

“I guess so,” Joshua sighed, unsure of his theory now. “I wonder what they’re really doing then.”

As the working men of VENTE Co. consumed their hours with gossip and the usual run of the mill office antics that would help keep them awake, a certain office manager was consumed with something else in the darkness of the VENTE Co. parking garage. As his hands lost themselves in the heat of the weight toppling on top of him, at the same time they were persistent in pushing him off, failing as the slickness of their previous ventures on the front seat of his sport sedan.

He’d mumble the same three words without fail, etching them into your skin, deeply inhaling your lingering matter in the midst of your blended breaths. “Five more minutes.”

Suffocated in the compartmentalized space of the vehicle, you gently shoved the hands off of your boyfriend, sweat beading down your forehead and chest as he tried to undo the buttons you had redone with his lips latched on your neck. “You have work!” You moaned in a mix of frustration and residual arousal. 

“You don’t,” he whined softly. 

You groaned, “Yes, I do. With projects, clients, meetings, just like you.”

“Then what do you do?” He started to argue, irritability singeing on his tongue, “All this time you’ve said you worked when I have no idea what.”

You sighed and rested your hand on his shoulders. You met eyes and tried to focus with his hair disheveled, his dress shirt half done, a massive tent in his pants, and a sliver of firm pectoral muscle lightly layered in perspiration calling out to you like a siren to a sailor at sea. Finally, a resigned expression graced your face, at last willing to tell him your job that had to be the most lucrative, but boring quality about yourself, that you’ve always had to explain to your dates, twice, what exactly it is you did. Then again, this was Seungcheol. If anyone understood what you did for work, it’d be him. 

“I’m a freelance Business Management Consultant overseeing a few startups. Some you’ve maybe have heard before and one maybe…that recently entered in the Fortune 500.”

“…That is so fucking sexy and makes so much sense.” He hurriedly started unbuttoning your shirt again, burying his face in the valley of your tits, “Ten minutes!”

“Cheol, please!”

“Ok, 5 minutes.” You rolled your eyes as you pushed his back, and pinning him against his seat as he frowned and lightly flailed his arms, lips puffing to swell in a frustrated pout before whining, “Come on!”

“Are you…pouting?”

He blinked, taken aback by your question until he glanced himself in the front view mirror before pointing at his face. “Is that what it’s called?”

You squished his cheeks, feeling the warmth of his face burn your palms and between your fingers as it spread throughout your body. Suddenly, you’ve been thrown into a proprietary state of being, clinging on to him and the image of this rare distortion of his features until you can make him do an expression like it again. “You do that for no one but me.”

Despite the confusion that passed through him, he nodded, only puffing his lip bigger as a result as his hands crept slyly around your bare frame, feeling the goosebumps that he raised in his trail.

“Five more minutes,” you agreed, before crashing lips with him again, making his lunch break even longer than expected.

That was the first of a handful of incidents, but the most memorable of the bunch, at least for everyone below Seungcheol. To this day, the office commemorates it as “The day no one knew why Mr. Choi was taking his lunch break for so long.” That had started a flurry of new rumors going around the building, and honestly, Seungcheol liked these ones better.

Post Author's Note: i put so much time and love into this and it's one of the first things I'm posting this year but so far it's my favorite thing I'm posting this year?? It definitely isn't the last don't worry there's plenty more, idk if it's up to this caliber but it'll always be written with love. So, feedback is much appreciated and I want to thank you guys, the readers, for taking the time to read this monstrosity that took me the moon, a pot of gold, and my sanity to write. Anyone that's been here throughout this journey with me on this site, I give you my whole heart, seriously.

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

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Nurse

Sylus x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: pure fluff, nudity but nothing described, sick reader, flirty, soft boy Sylus, hinting at NSFW but nothing actually happens

----------------------------

“You need to strike harder than that kitten.” Sylus said as he blocked your punch.

You had felt off all day, tired and weak. The sweat running down your face didn’t feel cool and refreshing, it felt hot and sticky. You couldn’t catch your breath and you were slower than normal. “I’m done for today Sylus.” you said, holding your side as you walked over to your water bottle. Everything felt heavy in your body. Were the lights always this bright? Your mouth felt dry as you stumbled forward.

“Kitten?” Sylus said, walking towards you.

Your eyes fluttered as you felt your body go limp, dropping to the gym floor. You felt how cold it was against your scorching skin before you felt Sylus’ hands on you. You heard him calling your name but it sounded so far away and all that felt like a good idea right now was sleep. You let yourself slip into unconsciousness.

--------------------------------------

You woke up to the soft feel of cool silk sheets. Your head throbbed, you were thankful it was night and only a dim light illuminated the room. “Sylus?” you whispered, trying to see him through your blurry vision.

“Over here sweetie.” he said from the dim corner armchair. He set his book down, rounding the bed to sit next to you. He held the back of his hand to your forehead, you could feel how clammy your skin felt beneath it. “You have a fever.” he said.

“I feel like shit.” you sighed as you moved the covers to the side.

Sylus helped you sit up, “Come,” he said, holding your hand and tugging you towards the bathroom.

You followed him, the bathroom full of steam and the smell of roses. The bathtub was filled, bubbles and petals scattered the water. “Ever the romantic.” you smiled softly at him. Sylus always claimed he was not the affectionate kind but his actions always told otherwise. You let him help you out of your clothes before sinking down into the delicious warmth of the water. 

You watched as his fingers traced over the top of the water before sinking down to hold one of your hands. “Better?” he asked, his red eyes focusing on your relaxed face.

You hummed, “Better.” you let him play with your fingers below the water, he seemed to have a fixation with your hands. When you finally opened your eyes you couldn’t help but notice the frown on his lips. “What is it?” you said, slightly worried.

His face softened as he let out a sigh, “I was so worried when you fainted…” he admitted. You knew he struggled to vocalize his feelings, especially ones that made him “weak”. 

Your wet hand came to cradle his face which was resting on the rim of the tub, “I’m ok Sy,” you kissed his forehead, “you were there to make sure I was ok.” 

He smirked slightly, “I’m always there when you need me sweetie.” he flicked a bit of water at you, making you laugh.

“Don’t be mean I’m sick.” you said. 

Sylus held his hand to your forehead once again, “Your fever is breaking.” he said.

“Of course it is, look at who my nurse is.” you smile, “And since I’m no longer contagious I can do this.” you pulled him into a kiss. 

Sylus followed your lips until he was in the bath himself, his clothes soaked through but he couldn’t care less as he nipped your lip. “I don’t think that's how that works.” he breathed out as you two pulled away, needing air.

“By all means then, I don’t want to get you sick…” you said with a smirk rivaling his own as you pushed him back slightly.

Sylus hardly moved. He admired the way your body was caged beneath him in the tub, you were completely his. And as much as he wanted you, he could see the need for rest swimming in your eyes as whatever virus you had was slowly leaving you. He got out of the tub, taking his clothes off. 

Your eyes never got tired of feasting on him, he was the most perfect person you had ever seen. “Coming to finish what you started?” you asked.

“As much as I’d like that, you need to rest. Fully heal.” he said as he dried himself off and slipped some loose sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips.

“I thought my fever broke?” you said with a pout.

Sylus pulled the drain plug before he stood you up and wrapped you in a towel and carried you out of the bathroom. “Yes but that doesn’t mean your body is done fighting the virus.” he set you down on the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure I can’t change your mind? I’m feeling much better…” you said as you dropped your towel and pulled him between your legs by his waistband. 

His crimson eyes were bright and full of lust and for a moment, he wanted to give in. “You can go to bed now and if you’re completely better in the morning I promise you won’t leave this bed all day.” he said, leaning down to hold your face so he could give you a quick kiss. 

“Deal.” you smiled before throwing the blankets over your body. The cool silk caressing you in the best way, a sharp contrast from your still warm skin.

Sylus smirked at your answer before he got into bed with you, “Come here kitten,” he said, pulling you flush against him. “That's better.” he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

Your fingers locked with his as you held his hand to your chest, “Good night Sylus.” you yawned, already starting to drift off.

“Good night little love.” he mumbled, kissing your neck a few times before he felt your breathing even hout and your pulse steady beneath his lips. He tangled his legs with yours before falling asleep himself. 

He’d need all the rest he could get if he was going to live up to his promise tomorrow morning.

-----------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Sometimes I really wish this big mafia boss would just hold me then fuck me into next week hope ya'll enjoy love yaaaaaaa XOXOXOX

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - An Epilogue

I couldn't help myself. I had to write out what life post-NESD looks like for our main couple- a snap shot of what they're doing, where their state of mind is at and what their relationship looks like right now.

If you need a refresher or to read the main story, the masterlist is here.

So, hope you guys enjoy this one. And also, thanks to @nereidof40k for letting me borrow her oc Mirian for a quick mention near the end :)

Ellicent holds the offending pieces of steel together in her left, prosthetic hand. In her right, a plasma welder hisses and spits. She reaches up, bringing the tip of the flame to the crack that's almost split the armoured plate in two. It's a piece of a Rhino's tread armour-- the Astartes go-to armoured vehicle. It's supposed to be painted Ultramarine blue, but with the damage it has sustained, it's stripped all the way down to the steel.

Blue sparks burst from where the plasma cutter touches the metal. It stings her eyes despite the protective goggles she's wearing. But through the smoke, she can see it's working. Under the impossible heat of the plasma, the severed edges of the split start to melt. Ellicent clenches her left fist, digging the ceramite-tipped nails into either side of the armoured plate and dragging them closer together. The melting metal meets in the middle, filling the gap. Ellicent allows herself a self-satisfied smile. Almost done, now. Just a little-

A bolt of pain spikes through her left shoulder. For half a second, her entire bionic arm goes limp.

"Shit!" Ellicent hisses. She kills the plasma welder, drops it to the floor, hurries to catch the plate with her other hand. But it's too late. With a deafening clang, the plate clatters against the floor. The crack down its centre reopens. Molten ceramite dribbles from it like liquid magma. Tearing off her goggles, Ellicent clutches her bionic arm. The nerves are still twinging, making the fingers twitch and jerk. Ellicent glares at it in loathing. She swears that the thing glares right back at her.

"Is all well over there, Ellicent?" a soft. vox modulated voice implores from behind her. "That was quite the bang."

Ellicent winces. Rising to her feet, she turns in the direction of the voice. "Yes, Galeo, I'm okay. Sorry for the... the disturbance."

The Magos looks at her through spherical, turquoise eye lenses embedded within a bronze face plate. It looks like a mask- completely devoid of emotion or expression. His voice, however, has a warm soft-spokenness that reminds Ellicent an awful lot of her beloved late father.

"There's nothing to forgive," he says. "From what I can see, you are not even at fault."

At first, Ellicent doesn't understand. Then, with one, skeletal hand, Galeo points at her limp left arm. As if on cue, the bionic spasms, sending another lance of agony streaking through her shoulder. Ellicent grimaces. But it isn't only from pain.

"Yeah," is all she manages to reply.

Galeo glides over to her, his robe rippling as the scores of robotic legs beneath them scuttle along. Another pair of robotic limbs protrude from his shoulders, tipped with various blades, claws and other such mechanical instruments. These unfurl as Galeo reaches Ellicent's side.

"May I?" he asks, nodding towards her prosthetic.

Wordlessly, Ellicent nods, releasing her right hand and dropping it to her side.

Galeo stoops down to her level and gently takes her arm in both hands. He holds the limb out, and the robotic arms atop his shoulders extend their manipulator claws. They grasp Ellicent's arm by the bicep and elbow. In a flurry of tiny, mechanised movements, they strip away the outer plates and begin working on the synthetic muscle beneath. Weaving, reweaving, detangling and reconnecting. Ellicent grits her teeth a little. Vaguely it feels like a dozen ants are tugging on her nerve endings. Not painful, but not pleasant, either.

"Ah, I see the issue," Galeo says.

"Let me guess," says Ellicent. "It's rejecting me."

"So to speak," the tech priest admits. "It seems the bionic's machine-spirit is... cautious of those within the xenos implants."

His careful choice of wording makes Ellicent smirk. It also fills her stomach with stones. "Cautious?" she says. "More like disgusted."

"I detect no such sentiments from this spirit. Rather I detect intimidation. Suspicion."

Ellicent looks at the ground pensively. "Same, same," she mutters.

The servos in Galeo's neck squeak as he turns his head to look at her. "Semantics aside," he says. "It is a problem I believed I had solved with this latest prosthetic. But, clearly, I was mistaken. A long term conundrum to be sure. But in the short term, it is an easy, albeit temporary, fix."

The nerves in her arm give a final, uncomfortable twinge. Then, as efficiently as they'd stripped them, Galeo's robotic arms reassemble her prosthetic's outer plating and screw it back into place. Once they've retracted out of the away, Ellicent clenches her fist and gives the elbow and shoulder joints a good flex.

"How does it feel now?" Galeo asks.

Ellicent opens her palm. Touches each finger to her thumb, one at a time. "Still a little stiff," she admits. "But it's always like that after it's been rewired. Should go away on its own; it usually does." She gives him a smile. "But other than that, it's perfect. Thank you."

"That's quite alright," Galeo says warmly. "And before you remark on it, do not worry about the mess. I'll have a servitor or two tend to it."

Ellicent's smile turns sheepish. "Thanks," she murmurs.

"Magos Galeo!"

Both Ellicent and the Magos turn around.

From the main entrance of the engineering chamber, almost too tall to fit through the doorway, approaches a broad figure clad in crisp white robes. His dark hair is shaved around the temples and grown into a short, well-kept mop on the top of his head. He's got the square, rugged face that all space marines have, though there's a kindly softness around his eyes that makes him stand out from many of his brothers.

"Greetings, Captain Ventris," Galeo says. "It has been a long time."

"I was hoping I'd find you here. I've something I need to discuss with you." Uriel Ventris' is cordial, but serious. When he sees Ellicent, however, he offers a smile. "Ellicent! How good to see you again."

Ellicent returns his smile. She hasn't known Ventris very long- hardly longer than a week, in fact. But that time has been more than enough for her decide that Ventris is, as they say, one of the good ones.

"Cap'n," she greets him with a casual half-salute. "Good to see you, too."

"Fortuitous, as well; I was hoping to find you here, too."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes." Ventris' smile turns coy. It's an odd expression to see on a space marine, but somehow, he manages to pull it off. "I wanted to pass on that your sergeant is looking for you."

Suddenly, all of that sinking weight in Ellicent’s gut from before evaporates. "That so, huh?"

"Indeed it is," Ventris replies. "He'd have come himself, but he was stuck in a debriefing with the Chaplain. It should be wrapping up by now, though. If you head up to the situation room now, you'll probably catch him on his way out."

Ellicent looks at Galeo expectantly. The tech priest inclines his head in affirmation. "The other enginseers can finish things here," he says. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you," Ellicent says. Then, to Ventris. "Really was good seeing you again, Uriel. Take care of yourself, yeah?"

"I shall try," the captain replies with a chuckle. "As unto you."

With that, Ellicent leaves the two men to it. Headed down the corridor, bound for the nearest elevator.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The situation room is on one of the centre most levels. Oval shaped with chamber-like walls and decorated ceiling, it has enough space to hold an entire company of space marines while still having room left over for seating and pict-projectors. At least that's what Gadriel has told her; Ellicent herself has never been inside. She's never been allowed. But she knows the way well enough. And after only two wrong turns, she finds herself standing before the enormous, automatic doors, currently sealed shut from the inside in the name of confidentiality. Ellicent takes up a spot on the wall beside them. Sliding down to sit of the floor, extending her necronian leg out in front of her. She thanks the Emperor everyday that she'd been allowed to keep it. The memory of her arm's failures- both today's and the dozens that have come before- are painfully fresh in her mind. She isn't sure if she could cope with a broken malfunctioning leg, too; she'd barely even be able to walk.

But it's not just that.

Absently, Ellicent holds her left hand in her right. It's larger that her necronian hand had been; the fingers are thicker, the edges of its metal more jagged. Each its fingertips are encased in ceramite, which is sharpened to points as sharp as talons. It's a monsterous looking thing, really. More similar in appearance to a torture device than a protesthetic limb. How surprising, then, that a device as fearsome as this is utterly repulsed by the machine spirits within Ellicent's body.

Or is it?

The rumble of the doors beside her opening distracts her from her spiralling thoughts. She gets to her feet just as the first of the space marines are leaving the room. There are nine in total. Six of whom, Ellicent recognises as being from squad Talasa- the same Astartes who'd rescued her, Gadriel and Titus from the Drukhari ship Dark Star, almost two weeks ago. They acknowledge Ellicent with curt, yet cordial nods. She returns the gestures in kind.

Chairon passes through next. The moment he spots Ellicent, his face breaks out into a grin. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Lady Gadriel herself," he says. "What a pleasant sight to end a brief upon."

Ellicent bows her head in an exaggerated curtsy that borders on facetiousness. "Oh, my Lord Chairon, you flatter me so!"

Chairon chuckles. Already, she can see his retort sitting on his lips, but before he can open his mouth, he is pushed aside by someone at his back. "That's enough out of you. Remember to whom you're speaking."

Gadriel's tone is clipped, almost snappy. Standing beside Chairon now, his pretty, delicate features are prickly with irritation. Too much so to have been caused only by his brother's remarks.

"Easy, darling," Ellicent says, using the same tone she might if she were calming an agitated dog. "It's only banter." Walking up to him, she wraps both arms around his forearm. "Everyone here knows I only have eyes for you."

The bravado drains from Gadriel's face. Colour creeps up his neck to colour his cheeks, his silver hair and dull-coloured robes making it stand out all the more. Ellicent exchanges amused glances with Chairon. The other ultramarine gives her a little wave. "I'll see you two around, then," he says before taking his leave. Ellicent returns his wave, while Gadriel simply watch him go.

"You weren't actually jealous just now, were you?" Ellicent asks.

Gadriel looks at her sharply. "What? No, of course not."

Ellicent raises a dubious eyebrow. The red in Gadriel's cheeks deepens a little and he looks away with a scowl. "Fine," he murmurs. "But it wasn't... intentional."

"A symptom of some other frustration?"

"That's the one."

Ellicent runs her organic hand up and down his bare forearm, mindful not to disturb the neural ports embedded there. "Wanna talk about it?"

Gadriel sighs. "There's nothing really to say," he admits. "It's just that Throne-damned Chaplain, stirring the proverbial pot without cause or meaning."

"The Chaplain?" Ellicent's heart leaps into her throat.

Seeing it on her face, Gadriel adds hurriedly; "Don't worry, it's nothing to do with us. It's something else. Something that happened between Titus and I, way back during the Avax campaign."

"The Avax campaign..." Ellicent combs her memory. Realisation dawns. "You don't mean that... that thing with the astropath, do you?"

The look on Gadriel’s face is confirmation enough. Ellicent furrows her brow, both concerned and confused. "But why? That was years ago, wasn't it?"

"It was," Gadriel says bitterly. "But even so, the Chaplain hounds me about it. And the strangest part is that he doesn't even seem interested in why I was suspicious of Titus, either. Rather, he demands to know why I am no longer."

"Sounds like he's digging for dirt," Ellicent murmurs.

"That's exactly what it is," Gadriel replies. A line of tension feathers along his smooth, square jaw. "And it grates me like nothing else."

Ellicent bites her lip, but says nothing. Gadriel continues. "Titus doesn't deserve such suspicion. He never has. The only reasons I subjected him to it were my own, personal biases, and I was wrong to fall victim to them. Time and time again, I have explained this to the Chaplain. And still, he continues to press me. Because for whatever reason, he's convinced Titus is guilty of... I don't know. I don't even think he knows. I think that whoreson has some personal slight against the lieutenant, and he's trying to leverage my mistake to... well, as you said, to dig up dirt."

"Doesn't sound like behaviour very becoming of an Astartes chaplain."

Gadriel snorts. "Yes, well. It seems that not even space marines are immune to human pettiness."

Ellicent laughs, but only briefly. And afterwards, her demeanor is serious again. "There's something else though, isn't there?"

Gadriel makes a sound that's part wince, part sigh. She can practically feel the reluctance radiating from him. "Maybe," he says shortly.

Ellicent raises her eyebrows expectantly.

Gadriel sighs again. "I suppose I... I don't enjoy being reminded of it. Of Avax, I mean."

"Titus has forgiven you for it though, right?" Ellicent says.

He smiles pensively. "I don't think he even blamed me for it in the first place. Not even at the time. No, it's not that. It's..." He shakes his head. "I don't know. I just... I'd rather leave such things in the past, if I can. I don't like being reminded of my mistakes."

"I know you don't," Ellicent says gently. "You always were a perfectionist; not just in your actions, but your moral compass, too." Gently, she resumes rubbing his arm. "Always striving to keep it pointed north, no matter how impossible the situation might be."

"Avax wasn't an impossible situation," Gadriel murmurs. "It was my fault. My weakness-"

"Bullshit it was weakness. You were misinformed. You didn't know all the facts, and Titus wasn't exactly forthcoming with them, either, I might add."

"So it was his fault?"

"'Course not," Ellicent says. "He had his reasons at the time. Same as you. It was a shitty situation, and you both did what you felt you had to based on what you both knew. It's as simple as that."

Gadriel stares at the ground. His expression, however, isn't morose. It's thoughtful. He slips his arm out of her grip, putting his hand around her shoulders and gently pulling her into him. Her head comes to rest just below his armpit.

"You're right," he says finally. "I know you're right. Just a matter of actually believing it, now."

Ellicent leans into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. "You will. Just give it time. And if you forget, I'll remind you."

Gadriel chuckles. Against her ear, Ellicent feels the sound reverberating through his rib plate. "How did I ever make it this far without you?"

"From what I know? Through sheer luck and the mercy of the Emperor alone."

Gadriel laughs again. "You wound me, Ellie. You're not wrong, but you wound me nonetheless."

"Lucky they built you so tough, then," Ellicent smiles.

Gadriel squeezes her shoulder. "How about you, my love?" he asks. "The Magos has been good to you, I hope?"

The question is harmless, but Ellicent can hear the threat veiled thinly behind his tone. It makes her chuckle. "Don't worry, Galeo has been fantastic to me. Very respectful with his studies, and very patient in showing me all my new duties."

Gadriel gives a satisfied grunt. "And what about the new arm?"

Now, Ellicent falters. Her chest winds itself into a twisted knot, and she draws her left arm in close to her chest. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah it's... it's okay."

Gadriel pulls her closer to him. She glances up to find him chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Tell me," he says softly. "Is that "okay" as in you're okay? Or "okay" as in you don't want to talk about it yet?"

Ellicent swallows tightly. "The second one," she murmurs.

"I see." Squeezing her shoulder again, he drops to one knee so he is at her eye level. His expression is as gentle as his tone. "What do you need for that to change? Time? Privacy?"

"Second again," she replies. "It's... it's about the eighty percent."

Gadriel understands her meaning right away. "Alright. Head to our quarters, then. I will meet you there."

"You won't just come with?"

He clenches his jaw. Tenderly, he strokes her cheek with his thumb. "Not with the Chaplain and his staff slinking about," he says.

"Ah. Fair enough."

Rising to his full height once more, Gadriel flashes her a small, knowing smile. "I'll see you soon."

Ellicent nods. Still, her stomach feels like it's full of rocks, but the lump in her throat has shrunken a bit. As she parts ways with Gadriel, she clasps the bicep of her left arm. The cold of its metal bites her palm and fingertips. Even after holding it for several minutes, it refuses to warm even a little.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Just as promised, Gadriel is already there when Ellicent arrives at their shared quarters. He's sitting at the head of their bunk, his back resting against the wall. The moment Ellicent steps inside, he's waving her over, ordering her to come and join him. With a soft-spoken laugh, Ellicent kicks off her boots and does just that.

Laying down within his arm, she curls up up against his broad, chiselled chest, draping an arm across his middle and resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. Gadriel's arm loops around her waist. In long, soothing strokes, he caresses her back with one giant hand. "Alright," he says softly. "Now, tell me; what's troubling you, my love?"

Ellicent bites her lip. A reluctant sigh escapes through her nose. "My arm," she finally says. "It had another spasm today. Galeo managed to fix it, but not permenantly."

"Why not?" Gadriel asks.

"'Cause of my implants. The bionics keep rejecting them. No matter how many adjustments Galeo makes or new models he builds, same thing always happens." Ellicent pauses. Fingers of dejection creep into her voice. "They hook up to my body, see all the alien tech inside me, and their spirits just freak."

"Sounds like the Magos' problem, no?"

Ellicent stares at her hand, the one resting on Gadriel's belly. "No," she murmurs. "No. It's... it's me. I'm the problem."

A beat of silence passes. Taut with undeclared sadness. Gadriel breaks it with a soft, gentle question. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's true," Ellicent says quietly. "Or it feels true, at least. Feels like I'm... tainted. Or damaged. Or... or just plain wrong."

She rambling a little now, letting all the doubts and terrible things her thoughts have spun spill out into the open air. With every one she says, her throat closes over a little more. Tightening her voice and bringing tears to her eyes. Gadriel listens dutifully. But as she goes on, the hand around her waist tightens and she hears his breath hitch. "Forgive me, but I must to stop you there. I can't bear listening to you talk like that any longer."

His tone suggests he's personally offended. Despite herself, it makes Ellicent laugh. "Gadriel-"

"I'm serious, Ellie." He covers the hand she has resting across his middle with his- none other than her prosthetic one- and squeezes it tightly. Even with its imperfect nerves, Ellicent feels it no less potently. "For Terra's sake, you're not tainted or damaged. You're a survivor. You should bear your implants like battle scars; evidence of your overcoming impossible odds with your dignity and humanity intact. That's how I see them. And everyone else who cares for you- the Magos, my brothers- that's how they see them, too."

"The laws of the Imperium might disagree."

"You mean the same laws that believed Demetrian Titus a heretic?"

That makes Ellicent smirk. "Fair point, that."

Tilting his head down, Gadriel plants a long kiss on the crown of her head. "It's more than fair," he whispers. "It's the truth, Ellie. I mean that."

Befoee she has the chance to swallow them, tears are welling in Ellicent’s eyes. An invisible weight has evaporated from her chest, and suddenly her prosthetic doesn't feel so cold and stiff.

She kisses Gadriel lightly on the collarbone, then on the side of his neck. "Thank you," she whispers.

Gadriel pulls her closer. "Anytime," he whispers back.

"You're the best."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Of course; you wouldn't have settled for me if I weren't."

Despite the tears in her eyes, Ellicent can't help but smile. "That was a good save. For a second there, you almost sounded arrogant."

"Who, me? I would never."

Her smile breaks as she starts laughing. From Gadriel's attempt at humour, sure, but more than anything, it's from the sudden, overwhelming release of tension from her body. She hadn't realised how bad it'd been; how tightly insecurity had been clutching her, how frayed anxiety had left her nerves.

And all it had taken to relieve both was a but few moments in Gadriel's arms.

This is why Ellicent loves him. Why, in the moments where she'd lost all hope, she'd drawn strength from him instead. He completes her. He balances her. He fills the gaps in her mind and mends the holes in her heart. And he does it all without even having to try.

Eventually, after her laughter has died away, Ellicent lifts her head gazes up at Gadriel. Even from this angle, he's inhumanly handsome. Another thing she loves about him. "I ran into Ventris earlier. He told me you were looking for me. Needed me for something."

Gadriel's eyes widen slightly, as if only just remembering. "That's right, I did. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Well, go on then," Ellicent says.

"There's someone I want you to meet. A baseline woman. A kind soul, but a lonely one. She could use a friend like you, and I believe you'd like her a lot, too."

"Oh yeah? What's her name."

A smile colours Gadriel's voice. "Lady Mirian Valerius."

"Valerius? As in House Valerius?!"

"The one and only."

Ellicent gapes at him. The faculty for speech has fled her entirely. "But- how? Why? How did she even-"

Gadriel interrupts her babbling with a chuckle. "It's a long story from what I've heard. But it is also hers to tell."

Ellicent just blinks at him. "I-" she eventually stammers. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... You know. Would it be safe? I mean, she's a noblewoman. If she were to learn... what I am-"

"What happened to you, you mean," Gadriel corrects.

Ellicent smiles. In gratitude she nuzzles her face into his neck. "Sorry, what happened to me. If she were to learn of that, what if she... I don't know... told someone? Someone powerful?"

"If I thought she might do that," Gadriel says. "I would never have suggested it."

Ellicent can't disagree with him there. "Alright. I'll try and track her down."

"Thank you." She feels his lips press against the top of her head. "Make sure you tell me how it goes."

Ellicent nods against his chest. "I will."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @passionofthesith @finchly-tintinnabulation @justfreakynothingelse @mooniequeen

[likeumeanit9497]

blue pill | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: alternate outcome of this;)

warnings: unprotected p in v; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; switch!matt; matt the munch (yes pls); dirty talk; use of boner pills; deepthroating; 18+

notes: here u are my matt queens!! if u start reading this and think ummm hello i've read this before????? no u haven't dw this has the exact same beginning as red pill the reader just makes a different choice when things start gettin hot;) if you've read red pill already and don't feel like u need a refresher on the buildup skip to the bolded sentence. i hope y'all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! love u all so so much <333

��� ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“This is so fucking stupid.” Matt groaned, sitting in between his brothers on the living room couch, holding a single red pill delicately in between two fingers as though it was a toxin. “Bro you’re the one who came up with the idea and bought them.” Chris retorted, inspecting the identical pill in his own hand. “Yeah, and I have no fucking clue why I agreed to this.” Nick chimed in, his voice filled with misery. “Because you can never turn down a competition.” I replied cheekily from my place on the other couch, giggling at the boys’ petty arguing.

Leaning forward, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket — opening up the timer app and hovering my finger over the start button. “Now hurry up and take them dummies, I’ll keep score.” I peered up at them as they gave each other tentative looks, seemingly hoping that one was going to have a change of heart. When nothing but silence followed, they all seemed to unanimously commit, dropping the red pills on their tongues and chasing them down with soda. As soon as they swallowed, I started the timer and sat back; crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk plastered to my face.

After the guys had posted the video at the gas station where Matt was talking about his idea for the sex pills, I had jokingly messaged him saying that I would gladly keep score if they really did it. Taking my message seriously, Matt had secretly gone out and grabbed three pills before inviting me over tonight. Thinking we were all just going to hangout, I was shocked when I showed up to find the pills neatly lined up on the coffee table and the three brothers pacing around the room arguing. After plenty of deliberation, Matt finally convinced Nick and Chris, and now here they were; awkwardly looking between themselves and me.

“How long do these even take to kick in?” Asked Chris, toying with the can of Pepsi in his hand. Grabbing one of the packages from the coffee table, Matt examined it for a moment. “It says thirty minutes.” He replied, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “This is ridiculous.” Remarked Nick, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in everyone in the room. Still giggling, I stretched my legs along the couch. “Oh come on,” I whined, “Relax, get comfy, and let the games begin.”

𓆩☆𓆪

“Okay, this isn’t working.” Nick deadpanned, locking his phone and throwing it beside him. “Really?” Asked Chris, turning to face his brother. Dropping his jaw, Nick made a disgusted face. “Is it for you?” Chris smirked bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m feeling somethin’.” He replied, to which Matt and Nick both groaned. “What about you Matt?” I asked, eyeing his still-relaxed frame leaning against the couch. Jutting out his bottom lip, he shrugged. “No, nothin’.” Chris groaned beside him, and I couldn’t help but notice him adjust himself slightly. “Great, now I feel weird.” He said, grabbing a blanket and swiftly draping it across his lap. I laughed and slowly pulled myself up from the couch.

“Looks like you might end up being the loser.” I teased as I began tidying up the packages strewn around the room. “I will n-” Dropping to my knees, I collected torn up pieces of packaging that had gathered at Chris’s feet. Noticing that Chris’s words had been cut short and now the room had fallen into heavy silence, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes — which from up close seemed glassy and dilated — were on me, his mouth open slightly from his disrupted speech, and even his breathing seemed slightly rapid as his chest rose and fell.

Noticing this, Nick threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Chris are you serious? See I knew this was a fucking horrible idea.” His sharp words pulled Chris’s eyes away from me, and he winced at his brother. “I’m sorry,” He replied, his words aimed at both Nick and myself, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.” He added, seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable. I giggled nervously before pulling myself back up to my feet. “It’s okay.” I reassured him before bringing the packages to the garbage; using the short walk to recover from that oddly intense moment.

As I returned, I suddenly noticed Matt fidgeting in his place on the couch, his brows knit in what seemed to be anguish. With Nick scrolling on his phone and Chris burying his head in his hands, I seemed to be the only one noticing Matt’s sudden discomfort. I chuckled as I slid back into my seat. “You good Matt?” I asked, teasing him. His eyes shot up to mine, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Uh…yeah. All—all good.” He replied, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

Glancing down at my phone, I check the timer. It had been 32 minutes since they took the pills. I smiled gently. “Right on time.” I replied, shooting him a knowing look which just made him grow even more visibly restless. My comment grabbed the attention of Nick and Chris, and they turned to look at their rosy-cheeked brother. “You too?” Nick shouted, jumping up off of the couch. Matt grimaced, shrugging his shoulders again. “It’s not like I can control it.” He replied, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. Sighing, Nick began walking towards the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going?” Chris asked him. “Nothing is happening to me dumbass! And I will absolutely not be sitting around you two anymore now that you’re both bricked up.” He sassed as he began climbing the stairs. “Good luck Y/n!” He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Looks like we’re in a 1 v 1.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. I registered the look of torment on the faces of Matt and Chris, and decided that it would be in my best interest to hold back my laughter. “Let’s see who can make it to an hour.” I added. Chris grunted as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll be lucky if I make it another five minutes.” He replied, his voice also more gruff than usual. “Aww c’mon, you can do it.” I encouraged, moving to place a reassuring hand on his knee but deciding against it. As the room fell back into silence, I could hear Matt’s heavy breathing permeated by the occasional soft whine.

Although I was trying to keep things light-hearted, their overwhelming arousal was growing more and more palpable. My wandering eyes flittered from Matt’s bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to Chris’s temple coated in a sheen of sweat. As I focused on their features, it was as though their chemically-induced lust was contagious. I began to feel my own heart pounding in my chest, and I noticed a dampness in my panties that hadn’t been there before. In that silent room, all of our desires suddenly fell in sync with one another, and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

“I need to go deal with this.” Chris suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with urgency as his focused eyes stared straight ahead. “You’re throwin’ in the towel?” Asked Matt, his lips curling into a smile infused with what seemed to be an odd combination of arrogance and relief. Chris winced as he tried to lean forward, nodding his head intensely. I watched in painful silence as he folded his hands together and pressed them against his plump lips, deep in thought. Very slowly, his eyes were pulled in my direction.

I froze under his gaze, the look he was giving me was worth a thousand words. My brows furrowed momentarily, instinctually denying what his eyes were asking me, before I felt my body begin to react. Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned back against the couch and crossed my legs; dying for some relief. “Hey—what’s going on?” Matt’s voice infiltrated mine and Chris’s stare-down. Picking up on the shift of air in the room, his eyebrows shot up. “Chris, no! That’s not how this works.” He exclaimed, turning to face his brother. Still looking at me, a smirk pulled at the corner of Chris’s lips. “We never laid down any ground rules kid.” He replied, and I felt my throat go dry.

“Well…” Matt’s exasperated voice trailed off for a moment, “Well, who said you get to fuck her?” The words sat heavy in the air around us, the reality of the situation being verbalized for the first time. I couldn’t manage to get a single word out if I tried, nor did I have the power to pull my eyes from Chris’s heady gaze. Chris chuckled, pulling himself off of the couch before slowly beginning to walk towards me. “No one,” He began, his voice suddenly menacing, “That’s up to her.” He finished just as he stopped in front of me, his frame towering above me with his tantalizing bulge directly in my line of sight.

Very slowly, he leaned down so that we were once again face-to-face. I felt my cheeks burn red from the situation I had suddenly found myself in, and the desire was radiating off of me in pulses. “What do you say?” He asked, his dilated eyes flooded with amusement. I swallowed, trying my best to re-instate my own vocal chords. Just as I was about to squeak out a response, a mindless gasp fell from my lips as Chris ducked his head down; his face buried in my neck.

My eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but once they opened they immediately landed on Matt’s tense figure sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide open, showing me just how badly he was suffering in that moment. The sheer need radiating from his gaze on me was infiltrating my mind, but the feeling of Chris’s warm breath dancing against my neck made it difficult for anything else to matter.

That is, until my eyes trailed down to Matt’s lap.

In between his fidgeting thighs, I saw the perfect outline of his cock. His pitiful arousal was evident in the shaded contours of his length in combination with the dark bead of pre-cum leaking through his grey sweats, letting me know that he had made the unsavoury decision of skipping on boxers. The visual of it — him being so transparently aroused while simultaneously ashamed — caused my mind to wander.

It wandered to the thought of me on my knees, wrapping my lips around his satin-skinned cock while he twitched and moaned out my name; dying to give into a release that was almost too much to handle. It wandered to the feeling of his sharp breath against my skin as he whined into my touch; bucking his hips as I teased his sensitive tip. It wandered to the idea of him taking out his insatiable hunger on my core — now slick with arousal —licking, sucking, groaning against its heat.

My silence flooded the room, and as I fought against the urge to drool at the thoughts swimming through my mind, a look of recognition flashed across Matt’s flushed face. I kept my eyes glued to him as Chris’s mouth traveled across my neck, and watched his heaving chest and white-knuckled fists at his side. His eyes — now four shades darker and twice as droopy as they usually are — were telling me a story. A story of exactly what he wanted to do to me — what he wanted me to do to him. And then — just as Chris nibbled against a particularly sensitive part of my neck and my eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, another soft whine slipped from the lips of the man watching me. The one who so clearly needed my help.

Using all my self restraint, I placed a gentle but firm hand on Chris’s chest. “I’m sorry Chris,” I spoke, feeling bad about my inability to help out both brothers. But, I knew for a fact that Chris had a much longer roster than his triplet brother, and was sure that he would be able to have someone over in less than 10 minutes to help him out. At my words, Chris released a disappointed huff of air against my skin but didn’t fight against my hand. As he stood up, I had to force my eyes away from his own visible arousal that was still within my reach.

“I wouldn’t recommend staying out here, I’m gonna get Marie to come over.” Chris grumbled, his voice still thick with arousal, before shooting his brother the middle finger and heading for the stairs leading to his bedroom. Once we were alone, the weight of the situation seemed to fill the space between us, making it difficult for me to breathe. The intensity of Matt’s gaze, never once leaving me, didn’t make things any easier — his retinas might as well have been screens playing out all of the filthy scenes that were running through both of our minds.

Forcing myself back to reality, I gathered all of my thoughts and nudged my head in the direction of his bedroom down the hall. “Should we go?” My question elicited the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple, and a curt nod of his head. On shaky legs, I stood up. He wrapped an uncertain, hovering arm around my waist and together we began walking towards his bedroom. As we walked, I felt, more than heard, his breathing grow more and more rapid; his pulse radiating from his body into my own.

Just as we passed the kitchen and entered the hallway, Matt stopped in his tracks. “Wait, Y/n,” Gently, he grabbed onto my hips and pressed me against the wall, standing in front of me with concern etched into his face. “Are you sure you’re good with this?” His question a paradox to his obvious desperation to get relief, I stifled a surprised laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure.” I replied, amused. Still not satisfied, he continued. “I just don’t want you to think that you have to do this, I mean I got these pills as a joke and really just invited you to keep score. You’re my friend and I don’t want you to think this was my pl—”

I cut him off with a finger pressed gently to his soft lips. Although his concern was charming and even comforting to me, it was entirely unnecessary. “Matt,” I began, my voice dropped to a low whisper as I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “I’m good with this.” Tracing the tattoos on his arm slowly, I continued, “See for yourself.” His eyes scanned my face for a moment, confused, before a glint of understanding appeared. Very slowly, his eyes dropped to my lower half and wordlessly I encouraged him by widening my stance slightly. One of his hands that had been resting on my hip began toying with the waistband of my shorts, before it creeped down the front of the cotton material blindly.

As soon as his long fingers reached my slippery heat, we both released simultaneous groans. His skin was so cold against my own, and as they gently slid in between my folds it sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “God,” Matt breathed, his eyes glued to my clothed heat as though he had x-ray vision. I bit my lower lip as I fought the urge to moan from the feeling of his exploring fingers, but all restraint disappeared once he reached my throbbing bundle of nerves. As the erotic noise fell from my lips, Matt’s eyes fluttered back up to mine before he pulled my lips into a feverish kiss.

Drawing slow circles against my clit, Matt’s tongue slipped delicately into my mouth with a certain hunger I hadn’t quite experienced before. Even as I relished in the taste of him combined with the exquisite pressure he was using against my nerves, I recognized that he was holding back some of his desperation. “Like that,” I breathed against his lips, panting as he worked me into a frenzy. He released a puff of air through his nostrils in response, shifting on his feet as he struggled to keep his composure.

“S-so wet for you.” I continued egging him on, finding his resistance to let go erotic. “S-so wet.” He parroted, his breathing rapid against my swollen lips before they traveled down my jaw and onto my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as I felt his mouth toy with my delicate skin, though the feeling was cut short as he pulled his head back slightly, his breathing hot against my ear. “D-don’t love that.” He muttered, running his thumb along my neck where I was sure his brother had left dark purple bruises just moments before.

Grabbing his jaw, I gently pulled his face up so that I could lock eyes with him. His fingers were still circling my clit, so through breathy gasps I spoke, “Why don’t you plant your own somewhere else?” I watched as his face suddenly grew overcome with aching fervour, before his hands slid back to my waistband and he sunk to his knees; taking my shorts and thong down to my ankles with him. My gaze followed him to the floor, and with a slacked jaw I watched as Matt took in the sight of me exposed just inches away from him. His hands crawled back up my thighs and his thumbs brushed delicately against the silky smooth skin of my bikini line before he brought his mouth to my pelvis.

His tongue swirled against my skin in a place I was sure had never been kissed before. He groaned, the sound muffled by his suckling lips, and I felt as though I might melt away from how worshipped I felt in that moment. My skin began to grow warm under his nibbling and sucking, and my stomach flipped from the sight of the angry purple bruise he had left once his mouth began moving closer to my aching core.

Just as Matt’s nose brushed against my heat, he pulled back slightly and used his grip on my thighs to pull my legs further apart. With a look of anguished hunger, he pulled his lower lip between his teeth as his thumbs spread apart my folds; granting him an unrestricted view of the arousal dripping from my core. “Jesus,” His singular word held the weight of all of the desire radiating between the two of us, and like the snap of an elastic band, all of his self-restraint dissipated as he impulsively ran his flat tongue along my heat; causing me to cry out in ecstasy as he savoured my sweet arousal against his tastebuds.

As if he was an addict and had just had his first fix, Matt turned into someone unrecognizable with his face buried between my thighs. His fingers wrapped so tightly around my thighs that I was sure he was going to leave a bruise as his tongue flicked deliciously against my swollen bundle of nerves. “Oh god, Matt!” I cried out, lacing my fingers through his hair and pressing my heat against him desperately. He responded to my pathetic moans by throwing one of my legs around his shoulder; granting his tongue a new angle that sent shock waves down my spine.

“So fucking good.” He groaned against my cunt, his voice more hoarse than usual. His tongue slid from my bundle of nerves down to my entrance, which he circled for a moment before plunging the strong muscle into it; lapping up my juices as I struggled to stand upright. He used his tongue to fuck me, his own moans echoing through my walls as his nose simultaneously rubbed my puffy clit, and the short hallway filled with the wet sounds of my needy cunt being worked towards my impending orgasm.

“F-fuck Matt,” I whined, rolling my hips hungrily against his face, “I-I’m gonna-” Without even finishing my words, Matt grunted in approval before fumbling blindly with his sweatpants. Through hooded lids I watched in glory as Matt slipped his pants down just enough to let his veiny cock free. Without removing his working mouth, he slid two fingers in the shape of a V through my folds to collect my juices before bringing his slippery hand to his cock; stroking it in rhythm with his movements against my cunt.

My legs began to shake and my vision grew blurry from my fast-approaching orgasm, though I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Matt as he milked his cock; clearly grown too desperate to wait another moment for relief. Just as he released a throaty moan against my cunt and I felt myself begin to give in to the overwhelming pressure radiating through every nerve in my body, I froze at the sound of the front door opening.

Chris’s lucky roster pick.

Matt and I locked eyes, sharing a look of mutual anguish before he jumped to his feet. Without even bothering to get dressed, I slipped out of my discarded bottoms and silently headed for Matt’s bedroom, the heat of his own brooding frame close behind me. As soon as we were behind the closed door, Matt tried to drop to his knees once again. Although it took nearly all of the self-restraint that I held in my body, I grabbed onto his shoulders to stop him. “Matt, you’re torturing yourself.” I whispered, dropping my eyes to his throbbing cock — bright red and swollen at the tip.

He pouted, running a gentle hand through my hair. “But you taste so fuckin’ good.” He breathed out just before engulfing my lips with his own; allowing me to taste my own sweetness against his slick tongue. His hands toyed with the bottom of my shirt, tugging it gently as though asking for permission. I pulled away from his mouth, drunk from the way I tasted on him, and allowed him to slip my shirt over my head. His pleading eyes dropped to my tits, and he ran the pad of his thumb along my pebbled nipple before dropping it back down to the bundle of nerves between my legs.

“You were so close to cumming,” He added. His voice was deep yet laced with the whine of a man who needed something bad, and it numbed my mind for a second. He pressed his thumb against my clit, slowly adding more and more pressure as I bit my bottom lip. “We can cum together.” I offered, looking up at him through droopy eyelids as my stomach flipped from the thought of him inside of me at last.

That thought seemed to have been mirrored in Matt’s mind as well, because his blown out eyes grew hazy and his brows knit together in wistful lust. Taking his expression as my answer, I gestured toward his bed behind him. With a curious smirk, Matt slipped off his t-shirt and began walking backwards towards his bed; using his grip on my hips to pull me with him. As his heels reached the frame, I gently pushed him down so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Although a part of me wanted to straddle his lap and sink down onto his gorgeous cock immediately, instead of following him onto the bed I dropped onto my knees before him.

His eyes glimmered for a moment. “What are you doing?” He asked, the mild concern on his face worked paradoxically with his hands gathering my hair into a make-shift ponytail. I snaked my hands up his legs, letting them rest just centimetres away from his cock; the nearly-there contact making it jump. “Just wanna taste you too,” My seductive words caused his hands to subconsciously tighten in my hair just as I wrapped my lips around his spongey tip.

His savoury pre-cum on my tastebuds intoxicated me, and I lapped it up hungrily before bobbing my head in a rapid, but steady, rhythm. A whiney groan fell from his lips, his thighs twitched under my hands as I let his cock reach the back of my throat; swallowing around it and relishing in his needy reaction. “Mmm Y/n,” He groaned, his breath rapid as he struggled to keep his composure, “F-feels so good,” His grip in my hair was firm, as though that was what was holding him steady, but I felt his thumbs gently brush my neck in a way that was comforting to both of us.

Relaxing my throat, I pushed myself all the way down his long cock so that my nose pressed against his flexed stomach. A sharp whimper filled the room as I gargled his entire length until tears began streaming down my face, and already I felt his cock begin to swell in my throat. “Oh god baby, not g-gonna la-ast — s-so clos-se.” His words were choppy, punctuated by his rapid breathing as his body grew red from the hot arousal. Panties flooding, I took his words as motivation and swallowed his cock fervently; knowing that he had to be close to pain by how hard he was.

A chorus of sharp, rapid whines began slipping from Matt’s lips, and I felt his body begin to tremble under my touch as his balls tightened against my chin. His hips lifted from the bed in uncontrollable pleasure, and after a final, exquisite moan, I felt the warmth of his cum as his powerful orgasm washed over him. I fought the urge to gasp at the sheer amount of fluid that filled my mouth, but was pulled back by the addicting taste of him on my tongue. Greedily, I swallowed everything that he had before continuing to slowly bob my head.

Matt’s body writhed under my warm mouth, and only once he released a pathetic moan from my tongue swirling around the crest of his head did I pull back; releasing his still-hard cock with a pop. My vision was blurry from my tears, but I still managed to pull my eyes from the string of saliva dangling from his leaking cock back to his flushed face; gazing down at me in shock. “I…I’ve never finished that fast in my fucking life.” His words were laced with genuine astonishment, causing me to laugh in amusement.

“We can blame the pill,” I replied, pulling myself off of the floor and climbing on top of him on the bed. As soon as my core was level with his lap, his hands gripped firmly onto the flesh of my ass and his cock flexed against the pressure of my body. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I laughed before subtly pushing him back so that he was laying flat on the bed. “Doesn’t matter anyways, looks like you still got more in you.”

My words seemed to awaken something within him, because as soon as they left my mouth Matt flipped us over so that it was now me who was laying flat against the bed. His mouth consumed my own once again, the taste of both of our arousal now floating between our tongues. My head spun from the glorious feeling of being underneath Matt, feeling somehow so powerless yet so in tune with my own body. A gasp slipped from my lips as I felt his cock brush against my heat, the urge to be filled now growing void of any ignorance.

“You still wet?” Matt breathed against my lips, using a hand to spread my legs apart before bringing it to my sensitive core. A satisfied hum fell from his lips as he felt the warm juices of my arousal not only pooled in between my legs, but smeared all down my inner thighs from the pleasure of having him fall apart in my mouth. “Oh you’re fuckin soaked baby,” He cooed, his voice gentle against my parted lips. I writhed against his investigative fingers, needing more contact than what he was granting me by admiring just how turned on I had grown.

Growing impatient, I reached down and grabbed his sticky cock, eliciting a hiss from him as I guided it towards my needy entrance. “Jesus,” Matt groaned, overwhelmed by the confirmation of my insatiable need for him, before allowing himself to be guided by my hand. Just as I felt the head of his cock sink into the crest of my aching pussy, I let go of his shaft and relied on the fervour warmth of my walls to swallow his length.

He slid into me slowly, with anguish, and once he bottomed out guttural moans fell from both of our lips. He filled me so intensely that I felt feverish, delirious with desire. My walls welcomed him graciously, though they enveloped him so tightly I was worried he may not be able to move. Just as that thought crossed my mind, Matt pulled himself almost entirely out of me before driving his cock back down to the hilt. A gasp fell from my lips as my arms wrapped around his neck, overcome with the relief that his movements granted me.

“Holy fuck,” Matt grunted, and as I looked up at him I recognized the look of strain on his face and throughout his muscles. “You’re s-so tight.” The tensity of his voice drew a soft moan from me, and by wrapping my legs around his waist I urged him to keep moving. Recognizing my silent request, he began pumping himself into me. He started slow, though on each thrust it was as if my cunt began to stretch more and more for him until it moulded to fit him perfectly, to which he responded by going harder and faster.

The squelching sound of our bodies as they joined together provided a perfect harmony to the slurry of moans that fell from both of our lips. Matt snaked a hand around my lower back, adding a new level of pressure as he held me tight against him. I cried out as he wrapped his warm mouth against a hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around the dark pink, sensitive bud as he snapped his hips into me. “Feels…so…good…” Matt’s words were punctuated by his thrusts, and his breath tickled against my skin as he spoke into my plush breast. I mewled in response, nails turning into claws against the tense skin of his back.

“N-eeded this s-so fucking b-bad. T-thank you,” Solace was already evident in his voice, and his gratitude was enough to make my head spin. He lifted his head from my chest and placed his open mouth against my own with the intention of kissing me, but we were both so caught up in the mutual pleasure radiating through our bodies that the most we could do was breathe against one another; matching the tempos of our beating hearts. Matt’s thrusts began to grow sloppier, his breath more ragged, and the heat of our bodies came crashing down on me.

“N-need you to cum baby,” Matt groaned, slight panic and desperation laced through his tone. I released a pathetic moan, knowing I was close but could sense from his words that he was closer. “P-please Y/n, I’m — so c-close,” The trepidation was evident in his voice now, and I whined as I fought to stay on track chasing my own high. “K-keep going, just l-like that,” I purred, closing my eyes as I focused on my impending orgasm.

Matt’s hand traveled down my body in between my legs, where his thumb went to work vigorously swirling against my overstimulated bundle of nerves. Immediately, I felt myself inch closer and closer to the high I had been dying for. “F-fuck!” I cried out, my body beginning to tremble from the intensity of the oncoming waves of pleasure. “Please—Please—Please,” Matt grunted with each weakened thrust, his voice thick with untethered need as I felt his cock begin to swell inside of me; ready to erupt any minute.

Finally, after another desperate swirl along my clit in sync with a quick snap of his hips, Matt drew a long string of moans from my lips and pushed me over the edge of my teetering orgasm. Upon the first erratic pulse of my spongey walls, Matt released his own guttural moan and cried out my name before I felt his warm seed spill deep into my core. Although his body seemed to want to give in to the waves of pleasure it was experiencing, he forced his hips to continue to drive into me; helping me ride out my high as my clammy back arched off of the mattress and my legs constricted his waist. I felt the indescribable release of pressure as I squirted all along his throbbing cock and lower stomach, earning a satisfied moan from Matt as he let his eyes drop to admire the sight.

Only once our bodies began to relax and we came down from our highs did Matt halt his movements; crashing his exhausted body onto mine and burying his face in my neck. I let myself sink into the soft mattress under his comforting weight, focusing on my decreasing heart rate and the feeling of Matt’s hand running up and down my side. My eyes fluttered shut, the physical exertion draining me of all energy, and I felt us simultaneously fall into a peaceful lull as our breathing steadied.

After what could have been hours, Matt lifted his head from my neck and shot me a bashful smile. “I’m never taking one of those fucking pills again.” Laughing, I propped myself up on my elbows and smiled down at him. “So what I’m hearing is that was horrible and you hate me.” Matt scoffed, jokingly rolling his eyes. “Obviously not, Y/n. The issue is that was way too fucking good. And we’re friends. Friends can’t be dogging each other like that.” Matt ran a hand through his hair, a sign that behind his joking tone he was genuinely stressing out over what we had done.

I grabbed his tattooed arm gently, getting his attention. “Hey crazy, don’t worry. It was a one time thing caused by your little boner pill. It won’t happen again.” He sighed, rolling off of me and draping his body along the bed beside me. “Won’t happen again.” He repeated softly, staring up at the ceiling with concern still etched in his face. “Hey,” I looked down at him in amusement, “At least you feel better though, right?” Slowly, Matt turned to face me with that same flushed look he had on the couch an hour ago. Wincing, he let his gaze drop to his dick — still standing straight up in the air; red and swollen at the tip.

“One more time?”

“One more time.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[akawifeyy]

LEMONADE | fic (DR3)

description: as much as he would miss the high-stakes lifestyle of formula 1, daniel ricciardo is ready to start fresh. and the perfect start seems to be in his hometown, where a little girl is running a lemonade stand.

tropes: meet-cute, happy ending, lemonade stand au!, single mum!reader

face claim: none

trigger warnings: mature content (!!), swearing

| note: i love dr3 soooo much y'all, i hope i did him justice 🫶

It all started with the lemonade stand.

A young girl, probably five or six years old, with curly brown braids tied up in pink ribbons, was standing by its side. She stood at attention like a miniature soldier, her eyes watching the street for potential customers.

The hand-painted sign swinging from the top read "Leia's Lemonade Stand" in blocky yellow writing, and a giant beaker of the refreshment was perched on the counter.

Daniel was intrigued. He patted his pockets, looking for any spare change, and found a wad of bills. "Hey," he greeted the little girl, who looked up at him with owlishly large eyes. "I'd like to buy some lemonade? One glass, please."

She beamed, dashing behind the counter to hand him a cool glass filled with sugary yellow liquid. "That'll be two dollars!"

"Here you go," Daniel said, counting out the money and leaving her some extra change, handing it to her. "Thank you for your service."

As Daniel was turning to leave, you walked up to the girl, who was your carbon copy, just a decade or two younger. You were her mother, Daniel assumed. "What do we say, Leia?" you asked, a proud smile evident on your face.

"Thank you and you're welcome!" Leia chirped.

Daniel took a sip of the cool refreshment, sighing in contentment. "This is delicious stuff. Did she make it herself?" he asked you.

"I helped out a bit, but most of this was done herself."

He outstretched his hand. "I'm Daniel."

"Y/N," you replied, taking it. "I haven't seen you around before. Did you just move here?"

Daniel shook his head, trying to formulate an answer. "I just moved back from, uh...out of the country."

"Oh?" you inquired. "I'm jealous, I've never lived outside of Perth. My parents were born here, I was born here, and now Leia was born here. It's tradition, I guess."

He laughed. "Perth is a nice place. The rest of the world is overrated."

"At least you've experienced it," you griped.

Daniel huffed out a breath, reminiscing on his years of fast-paced travel. City after city, country after country. He never stayed in one place for long. "Yeah, I suppose so. Have you really never been outside of Perth?"

You lowered your head, self-conscious. "I mean, I've visited Melbourne for a weekend girl's trip, but my life has been pretty busy ever since I had Leia. And her father...doesn't help out."

Daniel's attention sparked at the mention of Leia's father. "Is he around?"

You twisted your lips in consternation. "He's alive, but he skipped town shortly after Leia was born. Said he was destined for greater things, or some shitty statement like that. I don't remember, and frankly, I do not care. Leia and I get on just fine."

Daniel grinned. "I can tell." He set the glass back down on the counter, and Leia picked it up, putting it under the stand to be washed and cleaned later. "Thanks for the lemonade. Keep up the good work, hm?" he said to her, and she gave him two enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"I'll see you around?" you asked, hopefully in a casual tone.

Daniel nodded, giving you a cheesy wink. "Of course."

Two days later

The doorbell rung half past noon, and you checked the peephole to see who was there. Daniel. He was shifting nervously, wringing his hands out. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" you greeted him, stepping aside so he could enter the house.

"I was wondering if I could get another glass of the lemonade? Leia's done an amazing job with it."

You sighed sorrowfully. "We're all out, sorry. Leia has just started school again, so we haven't continued the business. Maybe we'll make some more during the weekend?"

Daniel pouted. "That blows. I've been looking for a way to talk to you again."

"Sorry." You shrugged one shoulder, and then you realized what Daniel had said. "Pardon me, what did you say?"

Daniel's eyes widened, his face reddening with embarrassment. "Uh, I was hoping to chat with you a bit? If that's alright? I don't want to intrude."

You shook your head, leading him into the living room. A variety of Leia's toys were scattered about, and you bent down to pick them up and move them out of the way. "It's OK, don't worry. My job's remote, so I don't have to leave or anything. Not until two, when Leia comes home from school."

"Great," Daniel said, sitting down on the couch beside you. "I've been bored out of my mind since I've come back to Perth."

You swallowed, not exactly sure of how to respond. "Yeah? Is your past haunting you or something?"

Daniel chuckled. "Not exactly. I'm just used to a lot of hustle-and-bustle, and Perth...isn't really delivering on that."

"Where did you work?" you asked.

He fidgeted with his hands. "Er...I used to be a Formula One driver. I know, wild, but yeah. DR3." He laughed again, but this time it was dry and full of resentment.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Formula One? My sister's obsessed with it. Wow, that's really cool."

"Yeah, it is. But they moved on to better talent, and now I'm back here." He slouched down, avoiding your gaze.

You gently nudged his shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you've returned and that we've met."

He gave you a wan half-smile.

For another hour, you two chatted away, talking about your past, about Leia, and about your hobbies. You told him about your Star Wars obsession (aka the reason why you'd chosen the name Leia for your daughter), showing him the vintage R2D2 toy you kept on your bookshelf. In return, he told you about how he used to go fishing with his parents in Lake Monger and about some of his F1 exploits.

Eventually, the alarm you set to keep track of when to pick Leia up went off, marking the end of your conversation. "I've got to go," you apologized.

"It's no problem." Daniel waved a hand, brushing you off. "Here's my number in case you want to keep in touch?" He wrote it down on a piece of paper and handed it to you.

"Thanks," you said, flustered.

"See you around, Y/N," he said as he stepped out the front door.

Text messages between Daniel and Y/N (Takes place a week to two months after their first meeting)

Sydney, Australia (Two months later)

"Come on, Leia," you urged your daughter as you led her through a thick crowd of people in the airport. "Don't let go of my hand."

Daniel was in front, leading you towards the exit, where a glossy crimson Ferrari was parked. "Here we go." He opened the door for you, sliding beside you and helping to buckle Leia in.

You smiled at him. "Thanks so much for inviting us."

"No problem, darling."

The pet name sent a curl of heat through your core, and you looked out the window so you wouldn't have to respond. The view was stunning: metallic skyscrapers, a bustling city center. You couldn't believe that this was what you were missing out on your whole life.

About twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of a sleek modern hotel. You saw Daniel's mum wave at you, and swallowed roughly. You prayed that she would like you.

"Leia, be nice," you chastised her before you disembarked from the car. "Use your manners."

Leia bobbed her head up and down. "I know, Mum."

When you walked over, Daniel's mum immediately struck up a conversation with you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I'm Grace!" she introduced herself. "And this must be little Leia." She bent down to shake Leia's hand. "You look just like her."

"Thanks," you replied. "It's nice to meet you."

Grace put her hand on her heart. "Danny's told me all about you. I'm happy to see that you're exactly as I hoped."

Your gaze whipped to Daniel, who turned even redder. One more shade, and he could pass for a bearded tomato. "Really?"

"Yep!" Grace clapped Daniel on the back. "He loves you."

You blinked, but didn't blurt anything out. "We should probably head inside."

Daniel nodded fervently. "I agree."

That night

"You want to explain to me what your mum told me?" you probed Daniel, crossing your arms over your chest.

Daniel covered his face with his hands. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry. She's not a good secret keeper."

"Are you saying that she was lying?"

His eyes peeked out from behind his palms. "Do you want me to say no?"

"Tell me the truth," you scolded.

Daniel sighed and took a step closer to you. "She wasn't. Ever since I saw you at that lemonade stand, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. You're funny, and strong, and independent. I want to prove to you that I won't be like the other one. I'm here to stay."

Without a second's worth of hesitation, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him down to your height, and kissed him. He moaned softly, his arms snaking around your waist and caging you against the wall. "Fuck, Y/N."

The kiss became more passionate as you tangled your fingers in Daniel's brown curls, and his own found the swell of your breasts underneath your shirt. "You're so perfect," he murmured softly. "Can I?"

You nodded, at a loss for words. Daniel lifted your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy pink bra you were wearing. "Fuck, I'm going to come in my pants like a schoolboy right now. My God, you're a fucking work of art."

You unbuttoned his shirt and loosened the waistband of his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Daniel picked you up, placing you on the bed. "The door's locked," he assured you when you opened your mouth. "If we're quiet, Leia won't know anything."

"Good," you whispered. "I don't want to traumatize her."

He laughed, and kissed you again on the collarbone. Carefully, he placed your hands above your head and said, "I want to have sex with you. Is that OK?"

"You don't have to ask, Daniel," you rasped.

Daniel shook his head. "Yes, I do. Consent is not a laughing matter, darling."

You expelled a breath in faux-annoyance, and he continued his mission. One slow thrust, and he was in you, filling your pussy and making you groan with pleasure. "Daniel..."

"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly. "I'll go slower."

You twisted your head to look at him. "No, it's fine. Just...not used to this. It's been a while."

He pecked you on the forehead, his arms caressing the curves of your skin. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

He drove into you, the movements firm and sure. Soon, you felt the tidal wave of pleasure build up in you like an insistent hum. "Daniel, I'm going to..." you trailed off, the sentence ending with another moan.

Daniel kissed you on the temple, the touch exactly what you needed to tumble over the edge. "Let go for me, darling."

And so you did, the orgasm rippling over you and making you shudder with satisfaction.

He pulled out a moment later, his own orgasm succeeding yours, and he flopped down beside you, one arm wresting you closer to him. "You're stunning."

"When I'm all fucked out?" you teased.

Daniel played with a loose strand of your hair, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yep."

"You're so silly, Daniel," you poked fun at him, tapping his nose twice.

He flicked your nose, and stated the very obvious fact, "But you adore me."

Three weeks later

Daniel clutched the bouquet of tulips in his hand, suddenly nervous. It wasn't the first time he had taken you out on a date. Hell, it wasn't even the second time. Yet each and every time, he was terrified.

You were perfect.

And he was...he was Daniel, the former F1 driver for four teams.

"Thanks for picking me up," you told him as he ushered you to his car. "I really appreciate it."

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. "No problem, darling."

You sat down, and then readjusted your position, feeling something poking your back. It was a box.

"Not a ring," he promised when he saw your expression. "I wouldn't have you accidentally sit on your engagement ring, darling."

You scowled at him, but popped open the top. A beautiful ruby necklace gleamed up at you, and you let out a gasp.

"It's my mother's. She wanted you to have it," Daniel told you.

"Wow, Daniel. This is...breath-taking." You hugged him.

"Just like you," he flirted, and you rolled your eyes. "It's the truth."

You extricated the necklace from the box and clipped it around your neck. "How does it look?"

"Perfect." He kissed you on the lips, one hand nestled on the crook of your jaw. "And all mine."

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[snowyroads]

can we please have a snippet of whatever you’re working on right now? please 🙏🏽 i’ve been refreshing your tumblr and ao3 for weeks now. sorry i just love your work!

babes im literally so sorry!!!😖😖 I’ve been neglecting you all 😫💔💔

and don’t be sorry AT ALL i appreciate your love for my work sm!!🥹💗💗

so i’ve been working on like all my wips all at once (which i probably shouldn’t do and should just focus on one at a time but i’m crazy like that)

so below the cut imma give you all the snippets i have so far for some of my wips in hopes of holding yall over till i can get my shit together and post something 😭😭 (tho last time i went on Ao3 it was down 😔)

The Game Plan au: (it’s based off a movie btw, so if you haven’t seen it then this probably wont make any sense but it’s a bit of a slow burn one w Joe and Ja’marr so)

Ja’marr plans to spend his free day relaxing on his couch. With no football game or practice, Ja’marr has an empty schedule. The tv plays some ESPN analysts on last week's games but Ja’marr pays no mind to it. He thinks most of those analysts are full of shit anyway.

He’s close to taking a midday nap with his dog Tiger curled up next to him when he hears his doorbell ring. Confused by the unplanned guest and his doorman not telling him about a visitor, Ja’marr turns the tv off and slowly walks to his door, looking out the peephole only to see nobody there. Ja’marr throws open the door, ready to cuss the ding dong ditch-er out but he stops himself when he looks down to see a young girl.

With brown skin and dark curly hair down to her shoulders, dressed in a bright pink puffer jacket and a purple suitcase sitting beside her. Ja’marr understands why she’s here now.

“Oh, look, I don’t want any girl scout cookies.” Ja’marr apologizes and goes to close the door but the little girl sticks her hand out to stop it from closing. “Alright, look what I got,” Ja’marr pulls a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. “Here ya go.”

The little girl looks at him like he’s crazy. “I don’t want any money.” She says. Tiger barks somewhere behind him. Ja’marr watches in shock as the girl lets herself in, pushing past him and the heavy apartment door.

“You have a bulldog!” She exclaims, crouching down to pet him. “Come ‘ere boy!” His vicious attack dog runs up to her and immediately rolls over on his back, letting the little girl scratch his tummy. Traitor.

“Hey, weren’t you taught about the danger of strangers?” Ja’marr asks, confused as he follows the girl into his living room. He doesn’t know what to do with the kid, who clearly can’t take no for an answer. “Where are your parents?”

“You’re not a stranger.” The little girl finally says as she continues to look around the apartment in amazement. “This place is huge.” She says in wonder, completely ignoring his second question.

“Wait, go back. What do you mean ‘I’m not a stranger’?” Ja’marr persists. The little girl stops wandering around and stands in front of Ja’marr, giving him her full attention.

“Hi, my name is Mya Chase and I’m your daughter.” She says.

Ja’marr must be dreaming. He laughs, “Larry put you up to this, huh?” Ja’marr says and Mya scrunches her eyebrows together. “The guy downstairs at the desk. He told you to prank me.” Ja’marr laughs again but Mya just stays stoic before eventually rolling her eyes.

“She told me you would do this.” She mumbles and unzips her pink coat to grab something from a hidden pocket inside the jacket. It’s a white envelope with ‘For Ja’marr Chase’ written in bold letters. Ja’marr takes it and opens it to see a birth certificate. Ja’marr scoffs and looks back to Mya, who’s still completely serious and unbothered. “Your name is on it.” She says, shrugging.

“My name is on it…” Ja'marr chuckles and pulls the certificate all the way out and reads the bottom of the document. “Father: Ja’marr Chase.” With his signature and everything. Or well, a forged signature.

What the fuck.

“Why do you have so many pictures of yourself?” Mya asks. her hands trailing against the glass of his trophy case, leaving behind grubby little fingerprints. Ja’marr ignores the question and instead calls for backup.

Tee Higgins shows up in a matter of minutes. The first thing Ja’marr says when he walks in is “Help.” And that’s when Tee sees the little girl sitting at the kitchen island with a barbie doll in her hands.

“Oh!” Tee says in surprise and Ja’marr gives him a look of ‘I told you this was big’.

They whisper to each other at the other end of the island as Mya pays attention to her doll. The birth certificate sits idly in between them.

“I mean, that’s definitely your name on the certificate.” Tee points out.

“Thanks Tee, I didn’t notice that.” Ja’marr deadpans. He rubs at his eyes, dragging his hands down his face with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do, man.”

“Well, have you talked to Kelly yet?” Tee asks. And Ja’marr looks down at the paper with Mother: Kelly Harris written on it. He hasn’t even thought about her in the midst of everything.

“No, we haven’t talked since I went to her house to break things off and we…we—” Ja’marr suddenly remembered what happened the last time he saw Kelly. He turns to the fridge behind him, “I’m hungry, is anyone else hungry?”

“Ja’marr, when did this ‘We’ happen?” Tee questions.

“Like, eight or so years ago.” Ja’marr whispers back and Tee turns to Mya.

“How old are you, kid?” Tee asks.

“Eight.” She says simply, Tee turns back to Ja’marr.

“Congratulations, Ja’marr.” He says with a grin. Tiger barks in the background. Ja’marr feels like they’re both laughing at him.

“This can’t be happening.” Ja’marr sighs. He can’t have a kid. Not with the Championship right around the corner.

(so as you can see Joe hasn’t even been introduced yet so that one’s gonna be a long one)

Pro Bowl angst: (this came to me after watching all the clips we got of Joemarr during the Pro Bowl and i wanted to write almost like a character study of Ja’marr’s thoughts throughout the events and shit)

Ja’marr’s excited about the Pro Bowl games. Really. He enjoyed going last year and despite being upset about not being in the Superbowl, he’s ready for the fun-natured competition.

The hot Orlando sun beats down on his back, he feels sweat bead down the side of his face. After a week in the cold Paris weather, Ja’marr relishes in the humid air.

The world around him is dark and orange, the sunglasses propped up on his nose allows him to glance around without being too noticeable. They’re outside of the stadium, getting ready to take some team photos; fans and camera crews standing all around them. Ja’marr meets a few fans, signs a few jerseys and footballs, and does some interviews for the media. It isn’t until he’s set free does he spot Joe.

Wearing the same red shirt Ja’marr has on, only difference being the number and the name on the back, Joe squats down to talk to a little kid with a football that’s almost as big as him in his hands. It’s now that Ja’marr’s thankful for the glasses hiding his stare. Ja’marr watches as Joe intently listens to the kid in front of him, nodding every now and then, blue eyes squinting from the harsh sunlight.

(that’s literally all i have so far😖😖😖)

sorry once again that i haven’t posted in forever tho!!! :( it’s literally like just a whole brick has hit me and i can’t get inspired to write cuz i do have time to now but i can’t get my fingers to type 😭😭😭

soon my lovelies, soon 💗💗💗

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Lucifer pulled his book flush to his face as if it would transport him into the fictional world he was reading, he's never been good with names especially when meeting new people. He doesn't do it on purpose he just gets mixed up with letters.

Like with Charlie's girlfriend Maggie, she's sweet.

But a whole ass name confusion? Adam probably thinks he's making fun of him! He's probably so angry at him what if he comes over?

It's late maybe he won't. But what about in the morning? He'll be refreshed and ready to do anything!?

Lucifer started to shake, all the possibilities swirling in his head two sides fighting and it's always the same.

It's fine. But what if it's not?

Tears pricked his eyes, he bookmarked his spot and got out of bed he needed to check the door, windows, and security system again just in case. He needs to feel safe.

He checked the locks on the front and back door they were secure, the windows were still locked and the cameras were working and recording.

Lucifer crawled back into bed, feeling a little better. He was safe.

But what if he wasn't?

He pulled out his phone and saw a text from Charlie, his little duckling.

Charlie text: Get some sleep dad, I love you goodnight 🫂

Lucifer teared up, his sweet girl, she still cares about him. He held his phone to his chest and cried softly, he was so lonely but he was too scared.

He nibbled the biscuit and finished his tea, he didn't read much it was three in the morning by the time he finally relaxed and he went to sleep.

When he got up he had to stick to his routine, routine was key that's how he could ensure that he would be safe.

He made his bed, had a shower, brushed his teeth, for dressed, took his medicine not that he felt it helped him too much, ate his breakfast and turned out the tv so the news was on while he walked on his walking pad.

Lucifer glanced over at the plants in the window sill, they needed water it would be okay right?

-

Adam yawned as he got up, his place wasn't perfect but at least his bed was set up.

He made himself a cup of coffee after he found his coffee maker, he'd have to definitely get groceries all he had right now was bread and peanut butter.

With his breakfast and a cigarette, Adam went out on his porch to enjoy the morning. This place had a great view and he wanted to enjoy it especially since it seemed to be a sunny day with a mild chill in the air.

Glancing over he hears movement, Lucifer opened his window and started watering the little plants that were there.

The poor guy looked so tense.

Adam: Morning!

Lucifer: Ah! O-Oh good m-morning!

Looking over, Adam was just in boxers? Or were they shorts? Either way he was only wearing those and a tank top.

Adam: Beautiful day huh?

Lucifer looked to the sky, the sun was shining warm rays that broke through the slight chill in the air.

Lucifer: Y-yeah, it's very nice.

A small red car pulled into Lucifer's driveway, it was Charlie's car. That made him relax a little. Normally he'd have groceries delivered but once a week Charlie would bring them herself.

Charlie: Good morning dad! Oh! Hi there!

Adam smiled: Hi! I just moved in yesterday.

Charlie:; Welcome! I'm Charlie. I'll be right in okay dad?

Lucifer nodded and closed the window sensing this as his out. He even closed the blinds.

Charlie sighed as she carried the bag of groceries onto the deck.

Adam: Hey, is he okay?

Charlie: No ....... He has severe anxiety and agoraphobia. He's really sweet if you're patient with him.

Adam: I can tell just by the little bit we've talked.

She was surprised her dad even spoke to him.

Adam: Well, you get going I've got plenty of crap to unload in here still. Maybe we can talk later?

Charlie: Yeah sure that sounds good.

She went inside, Charlie was the only person Lucifer allowed in his house willingly. He met Maggie on the deck, he tried to let her in and just couldn't do it.

Lucifer went over and hugged his daughter, she hugged him back he was shaking.

Charlie: It's okay dad, you're okay you're safe.

She just wanted to take away all his pain, she hates her mom for what she did to him.

Trapped Heart

@beef-brisket

⚠️This deals with Agoraphobia, anxiety, depression, and mentions of domestic abuse ⚠️

-

Adam: Well that's the last of them.

He looked around his new home and smiled, this place was so much better than his last home and a third of the price too.

They were practically giving it away.

There was his lawn mower that was on the truck still.

Adam went out to put it in the garage when he noticed his neighbor, a short blonde man getting his mail from his box. He was better looking than his last neighbor.

Adam waved: Hey!

Lucifer jumped as he grasped his mail, he looked over and saw a handsome brunette standing in the driveway across the road smiling and waving.

Lucifer: O-Oh, hi!

Adam: Names Adam, I just moved in.

Lucifer: N-nice to meet you! I'm Lucifer, I hope you like it here.

He wanted to be polite and welcome his new neighbor right, but he could already feel the cold tendrils of anxiety start to slowly crawl through his skin trying to wrap around him like a vice grip.

How long has he been outside? His heart started to beat a little hard with each moment he's not back in his home. He could die! He's not safe he needs to get back!

Adam: Yeah me too.

By the looks of it he already likes what he sees.

Lucifer nodded, he could feel the tremors starting in his hands the palms getting sweaty.

He needs to go.

Lucifer: I-It was nice to meet you Adam! B-But I need to get going.

Adam: Oh okay, maybe we can hang out sometime?

Lucifer gave a tight smile: Y-yeah.

He waved again to be polite and tried not to run back to his house, his therapist said it was good for him to be out as long as he could stand it.

Pushing himself a little each day. Today him reached his limit.

Once his front door was closed and locked behind relief washed over him, he's safe now nothing can hurt him. He hugged his mail to his chest, he needed to sit down.

Lucifer went over and placed everything on the coffee table. He tried to remember his breathing exercises.

Adam seemed very nice, maybe he'll send Charlie over when she comes to give him a proper greeting.

-

Adam tilted his head as he watched his new neighbor go into his home, if he didn't know any better he would say the man was panicked. Did he do something? He knows his personality can be a little brash at times but he thought he was being polite.

A man that lived beside him came out for his mail as well.

Adam: Hi! Umm, I'm new here.

Alastor: Oh hello! I'm Alastor, I guess that makes us neighbors.

Adam chuckled: Guess so. Umm, if I may ask, is the man that lives there okay? I didn't intend to upset him.

Alastor looked over at Lucifer's home and rolled his eyes.

Alastor: Getting the mail was he? Don't worry about it that man's afraid of his own shadow. I wouldn't waste my time, he never leaves his house.

Well that sounded a little dramatic.

Adam: What?

Alastor leaned on the fence: Oh yeah, Mr. Morgenstern over there never leaves his house. Rumor has it that his wife used to beat the fuck out of him in the home but it was worse when they were in public. Apparently she'd just humiliate him and others would join in making things worse. He was never free of her but at least in the home he could be alone.

Adam was horrified to hear that: Dude, the fuck, is that true?

Alastor shrugged: Not sure. All I know that is true is she left him nearly 8 years ago and he's become some kind of hermit that never leaves the damn house. His daughter Charlie, sweet girl you'll likely meet her, comes over from time to time.

Adam looked over at Lucifer's house, that couldn't all be true right? Maybe some was and the rest is telephone gossip extras?

Him and Alastor parted ways, he had to put everything away in his house. All the while his mind kept going back to the handsome neighbor across the way.

[pistatsia]

Isagi Yoichi: problems with anger expression

Clickbait, right? One would think that what kind of anger expression problems could there be with a guy swearing on the field with war-crime level insults and joyfully bringing a child a few years younger to tears?

The kind where one derives from the the other.

Now, let's figure it out.

To do so, we'll have to go back to Isagi's novel (hoshi801_ translation is used for all of the quotes). From it, we know that Isagi grew up as a quiet and shy child. "He never gets into fights with his friends and never disobeys his teachers."

Nevertheless, it ended quite simply then - thanks to Noa, he learnt how to express his anger and negative feelings. Problem? Only on the football field. The novel says he "was fearless in running into his opponents, as if he had never been a crybaby." 

He was winning, and what he liked best about football - his football, Noa's football - was the beauty of Noa’s playstyle brutality. Because that's what made it an acceptable outlet for him - fighting with friends is bad, arguing with teachers is not allowed - but on the football pitch you are free. You can be angry. Football became his safe space.

Except that then Isagi entered the root of all his troubles - Ichinan.

Even before it, the novel mentioned and emphasised Isagi's inability to express himself. For a while, despite this, his plans worked: the coaches let him play the way he wanted, and he didn't have to come into direct conflict with them.

But that trick didn't work in Ichinan - the dream school suddenly turned out to be somehow strange, and Isagi felt that he wasn't allowed to fulfil his potential here.

But no one on the team was unsatisfied by the current system.

Even before the conversation with the coach where he was ridiculed Isagi had tried to test the waters. Specifically to test - he doesn't say anything outright in fear of being rejected. "Uhm, Tada-kun… don’t you think there’s something wrong with this?" he asks his club mate very cautiously, while in thoughts having more direct “Huh? Am I the only one who thinks that this is ridiculous?”. It's written out separately in the novel that "he watches the expression on Tada's face to see how he'll react" - Isagi already has problems. He's already learnt that he can be rejected if his opinion doesn't coincide with the majority - especially since the conversation wasn't taking place in 'football territory', where he was more or less able to talk straight. 

Having an opinion for Isagi means isolation.

But he still tries one last time - one that finally cracks him up, convincing him that the others know better and he just needs to be patient.

In the novel his friends are "Surprized, seeing the quiet and obedient Isagi talk to the coach" - again, he is used to keeping quiet and not risking. Still, he dares to - and is immediately ridiculed for allegedly trying to "show off". 

And this is what finally kills in him the will to resist. Because losing his friends and football is more terrifying for him than losing himself.

What does the novel says about Isagi after this episode? "He is afraid of being disliked for being assertive", "always timid", "compliant". "When his friends get excited, Isagi would say something like this: “Uh, yeah… me too”."

"He just goes with the flow."

Isagi agrees with Tada's taste in girls, agrees to eat what he doesn't want to, pleases in every way possible just so he won't be abandoned. He obeys the coach's strategy, and even on the field - the only thing that gave him joy and was a safe place for him - he ends up obeying the rules his surroundings have imposed on him.

He doesn't try to argue, he doesn't try to prove anything - he just chooses the safest path, the one where he doesn't do anything and doesn't fight, but he stays safe. Not abandoned.

What's the conclusion?

Isagi doesn't know how to express anger at all. He just hasn't learnt it because he hasn't tried it. And most importantly, doesn't know how to express it correctly.

Why is it necessary (and important) to know how to anger correctly in the first place? The point is that for the mentality anger is a kind of marker that lets us know when our interests are violated and our needs are not satisfied. Which by its presence helps us to build boundaries and achieve what we need. Anger is the power and energy to change an unpleasant world to suit us and achieve our goals.

But Isagi was shamed for showing negative emotions and for any attempt to express himself. He was shown non-verbally that any expression of self and attempt to argue, even just a different opinion would be received grudgingly, that you had to agree on everything, that if you tried to argue you would be rejected and not only that, you would lose the football.

And Isagi tamps down the anger inside himself - he no longer stands up for himself, and holds back the anger to the last, storing it up inside for years.

He develops a ban on anger.

And in general, not just anger - any negative emotion. He is unable to express even the despair of losing to Kira correctly; he tries to suppress it, to muffle it, the novel explicitly states that he attempts to lock it up inside, but in the end, having overflowed, this despair against his will burst out in a scream. Isagi suppresses all negative feelings in general. Aside from the crying part, this repressed anger is evident even in the first chapter, when he imagines the goalkeeper in tears from defeat, and dreams of crushing Kira. Without saying it out loud, though.

And in that 'against his will' lies the main problem of why exactly anger needs to be lived out properly. 

Because otherwise it'll spill out just like that scream - desperate, seething, expansive, and the worst part?

Uncontrollable.

What is the danger of not controlling the expression of anger? Why can't we just hide it inside and keep smiling, without causing anyone problems and without wasting the resources of our body on it, just adjusting? Yes, in doing so you lose your freedom of expression - so what? 

Because anger doesn't disappear over time. It is put inside layer by layer, day by day. 

And sooner or later you can't hold it back.

In life this rarely ends well: if a person holds themselves to a completely unhealthy level of control they may at some point experience an episode of derealisation - when repressed feelings become so abundant that the brain rolls out one of the strongest self-defence mechanisms - detachment. If it doesn't? One goes off the rails: he overreacts to the smallest of things, he is thrown from one-time hook-ups to drugs and alcohol. The accumulated anger begins to destroy from the insides.

But Isagi, as an adaptation specialist (unconsciously, most likely) has come up with a great answer to this, learnt from childhood and from the show with Noel Noa. Which one? Express anger where it would be considered normal.

Blue Lock with on-field swearing works for Isagi for many reasons at once. He got Bachira, who showed him that there's nothing wrong with expressing his angry-self - he'll be accepted, he would even be welcomed, it's okay to be angry! He got Chigiri and Kunigami, Nanase and Hiori, dozens of people accepting him no matter what (but in personal conflicts outside the field he usually still doesn't know how to behave - he prefers to withdraw and wait for things to resolve themselves - but that's for another time). Here, also, the issue of survival came into play, as expressions of anger and rage were cultivated by the Ego itself, sometimes specifically manipulating the players to do so.

There's also the application of the familiar pattern of his pre-Ichinan childhood ('I play football as rough as Noa - I'm doing well, I'm not alone, and I achieve my goals because it happens on the field, so it doesn't mean anything'), the general tense atmosphere, and a fair number of trigger characters who would drive even a saint to their grave (heh, Kaiser, heh). Isagi in general has more to do with football than almost all of Blue Lock's characters. Manifestations of anger and determination as a child (on the football field!)? Noa. Manifestations of them now? Blue Lock. He continues to use mechanisms familiar from childhood to protect himself, adapting them to new realities.

(basically, even the fact that Noa is around - who, again, once gave little Isagi the opportunity to express himself openly on the field - can have an impact on the escalation of Isagi's behaviour around Kaiser and Bastards. Whose presence and support is associated with a safe expression of himself)

like father like son

And uncontrollable anger bursts out, but for now like water from a cracked jug - in jolts, strong and those impossible to shut down, but from just one place. The swearing at the match and the opportunity to openly express himself and his objectives (remember how he shouted at Noa that his system doesn't allow him to score goals hahaha) allowed him to relax, to partially release the anger accumulated over the years - all without any realisation on his part. He doesn't even have to do anything - it all resolved itself. He's not being rejected, he's playing the way he wants to play and yet he's angry! That's great!

And everything seems to be fine, right?

The problem is that Blue Lock's setting just isn't going to work in the long run. Ego will be there for the rest of the project - another 2-3 months - and for training for the World Championship, for the Championship itself, and... that's it. The project ends, Isagi flies off to play in another country, but who can guarantee that the environment for such an expression of anger will be replicated there as well?

At one point, access to the field and, in principle, to the competitive and encouraging environment for such expressions of character in Blue Lock is bound to be cut off. There are gaps between seasons, injuries, end of career, and the simple fact that such expression depends on how much the coach allows to players - at some point Isagi may well be silenced.

And then all the accumulated, bubbling anger inside, which is now used to being expressed regularly, will spill out - and not on the safe field, where much can be blamed on adrenaline, but on his loved ones, his career and himself.

[hanzajesthanza]

the training montage in crossroads re-ignited a headcanon i had of geralt waking up and doing gymnastics, performing kickflips and mid-air spins around on a fencepost outside an hour before sunrise to ‘limber up,’ and bleary-eyed dandelion wrapping himself up in a blanket to be like "heyyy... what the hell are you doing 💖"

[why-the-heck-not]

insomnia? do u mean my true crime podcast time

[seaofreverie]

GOT TICKETS FOR SPARKS IN LONDON AND BERLIN!!!!!!!!!

[cowbeeboy]

watching silly animals in a silly game about a silly cowboy i care about more than i care abt real people bc i’m silly like that. anyway my horses name is shortcake and him and arthur have matching vests/coats and it’s the cutest thing in the world

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[todayisafridaynight]

dude I just gotta say thank u for all ur amazing art bc I JUST finished y7 last night and I'm missing my emo losers (daigo and masato) ONLY TO FIND THEM EVERYWHERE HERE plus mine!!! ur fics are also on point as well I think I commented on the "quiet" one but everything aside ur style is just so nice on the eyes and very fun! bonus ur nanba is very cute he's so silly to me fr :3

HIIIIIIII ive been watchin you go through all my art in real time ngl LAKRJLRKJ SO THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!! masato's my evil awful toxic girlfriend and i miss him every day and i love being delusional about him and daigo so im glad my goofy postings do somethin for others too lol.... thank you so much for all your love and support !!!!!!

[fictionadventurer]

People will often say, 'If you could be with Lincoln for dinner, what would you want to ask him? What would be the unanswered question?' And I know I should be asking him, 'OK, suppose you had not been killed, how would you have dealt with the South? How would you have dealt with Reconstruction and all the controversies that arose?' But I know that if I really had him for dinner one night, I would simply ask him, 'Tell me a story, Mr. Lincoln.' Because then I would see him coming alive. He laughed so hard when he told one of his funny stories, his eyes would twinkle. And then I'd know that the Lincoln I knew -- who was somehow able in the worst days of the war to dispel the anxiety of his Cabinet members by his humor and his life-affirming sense of storytelling -- then I’d know I would have seen him alive.

-Doris Kearns Goodwin, Presidential Episode 16

This was where I had to stop the Lincoln episode at the end of my commute, and as I pulled into the parking lot I said to myself, "Wow, that's lovely." A little schmaltzy, perhaps, but I think it gets to the core of why people study history. Sure, there's the intellectual impulse to analyze and understand events with the benefit of hindsight, but deep down, the heart of historical study is a desire to connect with people. To bridge the gulf of time and space and get to know people despite the fact that they lived in a completely different century.

History's not just dry lists of dates and names and theories. It's people. It's personalities. It's quirks and memories and stories. It's knowing that a historical figure isn't just a face on a monument, or a source of information, but a guy who can tell really funny stories. And I wanted to share this quote because it really understands the humanity of history in a way I rarely see expressed.