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the-secret-formulaone · 9 days ago

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prompt: you and max have been secretly together for years. neither the fans or the media have a clue. what happens when you and max are neck and neck for the drivers championship and you get the unexpected news that you’re pregnant?

pairing: max verstappen x ferrari! reader

word count: ~7.6k

warnings: 18+, cursing, mentions of sex but no real smut, mentions of miscarriage, some mention of blood

a/n: hello, i'm brand new at writing fanfic for f1. i've had this idea for a while and it was eating at me so i hope you enjoy. i thought it would be cool to have it be like a normal fic with a bit of that social!au content that the fandom loves.

this is pt.1 of how everything is going down and then the next and final part will be what happens after, her pregnancy and what reader does this time around. along with some fan social media mayhem.

id love to hear your thoughts!

enjoy!

LAS VEGAS, USA | NOV 2024

The nausea settling in the pit of your stomach is unbearable, it gets worse with each lap you complete. You're confident you can push through and finish the race without throwing up in your helmet, until the track begins doubling and tripling.

You haven’t felt this dizzy since you crashed in Spa three years ago due to rain. There were no stakes then as you were having a bad race weekend and started P7. Today you’re P1 and the gap between you and Max is getting shorter as you slow to try and compensate for the nausea and dizziness.

You hear your team in your ear, asking you if the car's giving you trouble since there’s no apparent reason for you to be slowing down at this point. Especially with ten laps to go.

“The car is fine,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to relax your abdomen to keep the nausea at bay.

“Then what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Riccardo, your race engineer, asks. His tone is stern yet concerned.

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine. My head feels like it’s spinning is all.” You're nonchalant but deep inside you’re panicking. This race means so much to you and your team. Now is not the time to get sick.

“Can you finish the race?” His filtered voice asks through the radio.

“Yes, I’m finishing the bloody race,” you curse, pressing on the gas pedal and tightening the hold on the steering wheel.

“If you continue feeling this way, box immediately,” he orders, not wanting to risk the safety of his driver, “By the way Max is 2 seconds behind you.”

“Fucking hell.” After all the work to create a 10 second gap Max is catching up because your body decided to get sick.

There’s rage building inside of you, keeping Max away is the most difficult part of racing. It took pure skill to keep him at a distance, he’s only catching up because you’re slowing. You're letting yourself down.

It’s been a battle of pole positions and fastest laps for you two. The championship is within your reach, threatening to break Max’s two year streak. It's why Max is giving everything he has to get ahead of you. If he wins this race he’ll be on top once more.

Another bout of nausea takes over your body, shivers running down your spine. Why are you nauseous and dizzy? You were hydrated before the race, the temperature in the car is warm as always but it’s cool outside, unlike Singapore, and you felt perfectly fine earlier.

It’s most likely karma for teasing Max this morning and leaving him with a raging hard on.

You notice Max in your peripheral vision. He’s ready to attack and regain P1. You accelerate and block him as best you can but nearing the turn you miscalculate giving Max the perfect opportunity to pass you.

He settles right in front of you, mocking how he got ahead so easily. If you didn’t love him and felt the bile coming up your throat you would’ve cursed at him. You were famously known for insulting the men driving the other cars.

At this point, you weren’t driving straight and your race engineer, Riccardo was telling you to pit and pull out of the race.

“I promise you I’m good enough to finish the race,” you say after a moment to swallow the bile coming up. You'd rather die than DNF'ing with a handful of laps to go.

“Norris is catching up. Let’s finish this race quickly so you can get checked.”

You’re glad you created a gap at the beginning of the race, otherwise Lando and Charles, your teammate, would’ve caught up already.

You see Lando trying to overtake you but you surprisingly block him and go as fast as you can. It’s not your best work and the FIA will have something to say about it but you make do.

Finally, down the final straight you press on the gas and cross the finish line. You finish the race out of pure muscle memory since you can’t rely on your distorted vision. Ignoring the celebratory cheers, you pull up on the spot marked #2. No one says anything about the askew parking job.

Your hands are clumsy, pulling out the steering wheel and standing. One of your teammates is right there giving you the hand you clearly need as you sway and almost fall straight out of the car.

Max is none the wiser, calmly getting out the RB and running over to his team who congratulate and scream his name. In his head, you lost control of your car, giving him a way to pass you. That's how F1 works.

You pull on your helmet and all the straps fast, the Ferrari team member helping you when he sees your urgency. As soon as you pull off your balaclava you bend over and empty the contents of your stomach.

Privacy be damned.

It’s not pretty. You’ve been holding this in for 20 laps and it’s not going to stop any time soon. The cameras focus on you as you push away the Ferrari team and finish throwing up. Ready hands catch you and you’re sat on a wheel chair as they roll you over to the medics. You close your eyes and throw your head back, everything around you spinning.

The murmurs of the crowd and the media cause Max to notice. He catches sight of you being wheeled away into the back. He takes a tentative step towards you, itching to be by your side but remembers the agreement you made to keep your relationship a secret.

Sometimes he hates how stubborn you are. At this point, the world should know you two are together, married even. Yet he understands your hesitancy with how cruel the media and the fans can be.

Max stays rooted on the spot, watchful eyes and dozens of lenses noticing every movement. Lando gets close to Max trying to avoid the cameras.

“What happened?” Lando asks referring to you.

“No idea, mate,” Max says, staring intently at the door you were just rolled through. A sleuth of Ferrari members following.

“She wasn't driving straight,” Lando shakes his head. He knew something was off when he caught up to her. “It was so unpredictable it made it harder on me to battle it.”

Max didn’t think much when he pulled up behind you but he did think it was strange how easy it was to overtake you. You always give him the hardest time.

He remembers this morning when you were in bed kissing him, touching him, teasing him. You were so cheeky, his length in your hand as you sweet talked him. 'Convincing' him to throw the race. Not like he’d ever do it. You were simply having your fun with him.

There wasn’t any sign of sickness then. It’s not like you spun out during the race either. You had been flawless out on the track until you weren’t.

“I'm going to check on her,” Max tells Lando, motioning with his head and wondering what exactly is wrong with his wife.

"Just wait," Lando stops him with a hand on his chest. They notice Charles in the Ferrari garage, heading to the back where they have you. "If you go, it'll stir up rumors."

Max tenses his jaw and looks away. With a roll of his eyes he turns to get weighed. He doesn't like it but Lando is right. He doesn't give a damn about his reputation only yours and the promise he made you.

f1_news tweeted: Ferrari’s Princess is transferred to hospital after race. It was heard through their radio she was having severe motion sickness, giving Max Verstappen the lead. Not many details are known as of this moment. More updates coming soon!

comments:

user2: hope she’s doing okay! she needs to come back to kick max's ass and take the championship from him 😮‍💨

user3: bet max is celebrating

-> user4: he looked very concerned when he saw her in the wheelchair

-> user14: who wouldn’t, she looked like death 💀

user4: did ya'll notice max disappear after the ceremony?

-> user5: lol he was making sure his favorite rival was okay 🤣

-> user101: no point in staying if he can’t rub it in her face 🤐

user6: our ferrari princess 👸 looked out of it. not sure how she made it out the car

user7: the podium felt so empty without her in it 😓

-> user8: did you notice max kept looking at the spot she was supposed to be as if expecting her to suddenly appear

-> user9: she’s like his best friend and his enemy wrapped in one. can’t live with her, can't live without her

-> user10: i swear he’s in love with her. 🗣️ it’s not normal the way he looks at her

-> user11: please, she’s married. you guys need to stop being delusional and stop shipping her with every guy on the grid

-> user10: not every guy, just max and maybe charles… -> user76: let's take a moment to appreciate charles immediately asking about her and leaving the track to see how she was. it's a win for us predestined x princess shippers

In the hospital, they quickly take you into a private room. The nurses retake your vitals and give you a shot to help with the nausea. A doctor comes in relatively quickly, asking you an array of questions to help him figure out why you got sick.

"The nurse should be in quickly to draw blood. I'm not too worried about this being anything other than a virus but we just want to make sure you're all good before leaving."

"Thank you, doc," you respond, lying back on the bed. They've given you one of the flimsiest hospital gowns in existence but you've gotta admit it's more comfortable than your race suit.

It's awfully lonely in the hospital room but it gives you time to relax and wind down. Fred and Riccardo were extremely concerned for your well being- not related at all to the fact you're on the run to win the championship-forcing you to go into the hospital.

Their stressed energy, the ambulance ride and then the nurses fussing over you was overwhelming. It would've made your nausea worse had it not been for the shot.

You're snoozing off when the door opens and your husband walks in. Max has a backpack slung over his shoulder with a set of clothes for you, along with your phone and other personal belongings you left at the paddock. He hurries over to you, dropping the bag and wrapping his arms around you.

"I was so worried, schatje," Max says in your ear, kissing your temple. The softness of his hoodie and the familiar scent he carries is comforting.

"I'm okay. You should keep your distance though, doc says I have a virus," you tell him, slightly pushing him away.

He’s stubborn as he keeps hold of your hand. "I don't care if I get sick. We've got two weeks until the next race, plenty of time for me to get better." Max sits on the chair next to your bed, asking you what happened during today’s race and listening to every word you say.

"What did they do for podium?" You later ask curiously, turning on your side to get more comfortable. Max props his head on his hand as he leans on your bed, getting closer to you despite your protests.

"Riccardo was there to accept it," Max tells you, kissing the back of your hand. He had been really worried. A part of him kept checking his surroundings for any sign of you.

It’s days like today where he wishes your relationship wasn’t secret. Max wants to express how worried he was about his girlfriend wife. He wanted to say ‘fuck you’ to all protocol and go after you.

He understands your reluctance and the need for privacy in your personal life. He knows what it’s like to have his privacy invaded and Max agrees that good things have come out of keeping your relationship a secret but you’ve also had to miss out on others. One day, you’ll have to come clean to the public to be able to live your life to the fullest.

The doctor returns before he can vocalize this. He knocks on the door as he steps into the room, a tablet in his hands. “Results have come back. Would you like the gentleman to step out or is it okay if he stays?”

“He’s my husband,” you tell the doctor.

You're used to people not recognizing you outside of Formula One but Max is more known than you. You wait for the doctor to react at the sight of Max, except there’s not an ounce of recognition in his face. Good, or else, you’d have to rely on his patient-doctor confidentiality.

“Let’s get into it then. Lab’s show dehydration which is normal for the state you came in like. In addition, to the fact, you had just finished a physically demanding race. Surprisingly they also showed that your quantitative hCG levels are high meaning—"

“I’m pregnant?” You pan, shocked. Max's hand tightens around yours. Last year's endeavors left you with enough knowledge to know what that term means.

“Yes, you are pregnant,” he nods.

Max instantly turns towards you in complete shock. There’s part of him that’s happy but then there’s another that’s concerned. Personally, he’d love to have a child but it would mean you would have to sacrifice the championship.

You stare at the doctor with parted lips and furrowed brows, “That’s impossible. I have an IUD.” This couldn't be happening at a worse time.

“All methods of contraception have a percentage of failure,” the doctor sighs. “Your pregnancy explains today's sudden dizziness and nausea.”

“Do you know how far along she is?” Max asks, holding your hand tightly to show his support.

“We would need an ultrasound for that but based on her last menstrual period it can’t be more than 6 weeks.”

“Six weeks,” you breath out. You could only hear your pounding heart and the air coming in and out of your mouth. God, you've been training and driving the whole time. For fucks sake, just two weeks ago you had been celebrating your win with lots of alcohol.

You hardly hear the doctor excuse himself, leaving you and Max alone. Tears brim your eyes at the cruelty of the universe. You have in your hands the two things you want most in life. A shot at the championship and the opportunity to become a mother.

Max sits on the bed, wiping away your tears. He doesn’t say much, at a loss of words. There’s not much he can say to make this better but he thumbs away your tears and pulls you into a hug.

You fist his shirt in your hands, crying onto his shoulder, “This is not fair.”

“I know, schatje.” Max is at a loss. He understands the conflicting feelings you have. It’s no easy thing especially after everything you and Max went through.

“I can’t go through this again,” you sob, remembering the painful memories of the previous year.

United Arab Emirates | Nov 2022

The last race of the season has come quickly, deeming Max the World Champion for the second time running. He’s at the top of the podium as the Dutch national anthem plays. You look up at him from the third position, smiling at him proudly.

You’re frustrated that you weren’t able to catch up to him but you’re confident your time will come. Every year you’ve spent in the grid you’ve been able to rise through the ranks and get great contracts.

Mercedes took a chance on you this year and you’ve made them proud. It was a challenge against Ferrari and Red Bull but as the only woman you’d say you did brilliant.

You’re going to miss this next year but a break is due. After years of hard training and dedicating everything to your career you’ve decided to focus on your personal life.

It’s been nearly a year since you’ve married Max and the conversation surrounding children becomes more constant. It's a nagging sensation in the back of your head. A longing you can't stop.

Feeling at peace with your performance, you decided to take this next year to become a mother. You’re young so in two years you’re sure you can come back stronger than ever and give Max a run for his money.

As the ceremony comes to an end, the party begins and the champagne bottles are brought out. “Don’t run,” Max laughs, spraying the frothy liquid in your direction.

You fight back, shaking the bottle and spraying some at Max and Charles. They gang up on you as Charles blocks your way and they both spray you. That will keep the fans making edits for months to come, the implication of the action clear.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Charles yells over the cheers when you aim the spray at his mouth.

Getting off the stage and into a private room, Max takes off his hat and pulls you in by the waist to press his sweet tasting lips against yours. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. “Congrats two-time world champion.”

“Thank you, schatje,” Max responds, brushing back the hair sticking to your forehead.

“Get a room you two,” Charles huffs, knowing you forgot he was there.

“Sorry,” you say with a blush.

“I’m not,” Max laughs, stealing another kiss.

Outside, reporters of all kind were waiting to interview all three of you. They want Max’s celebratory words and you and Charles’ disappointment and regret. They live for the heartfelt promises you'll make for next season.

“Over here!” A reporter calls you, handing you a microphone. “What’s the plan for next year? Are you renewing with Mercedes or is there another team making offers?”

“I come with sad news,” you pout at the camera, “I won’t be on the grid next year.”

The reporter stares wide-eyed at you. This is the first time you've said those words out loud. “Could you share with us why?”

You nod at his question, fixing your hat as you speak the words you rehearsed many times before. “Since I was young I was prioritizing racing and getting into Formula One. I love how far I’ve come but I want to take a step back and enjoy my personal life for a little while. As you know, I got married a year ago and I want to enjoy that newlywed life. I will be back though,” you say with a smile and a wink at the camera.

“Is there a chance you’ll tell us who the lucky guy is?” The reporter questions, not really expecting you to answer. That the one thing you won't disclose.

You laugh, shaking your head at him, “No chance. I like to keep my personal life private.”

“Worth a shot," the reporter laughs with you. "Thank you for your time and we hope to see you soon!”

youtube upload: The Grid's Princess QUITS

thumbnail 📸: Toto Wolff looking angry and yelling at a Mercedes staff member. Lewis Hamilton with an arm around an upset looking reader.

comments:

user25: our queen is leaving? 😫 user30: who is going to keep the boys in check -> user5: i bet that’s why she’s taking a break, it’s not easy keeping charles and max under control user6: aren’t we curious as to who this mystery husband is? 👀 -> user17: i bet it’s either someone old or a billionaire, or both, i mean did you see the rock on her finger? -> user 46: oh they must be loaded to win over the grid's princess -> user96: i'm sorry but until i see proof of this man i will continue to set her up with charles user59: please, use a more dramatic title user48: i'm ready to fight 🤺 whoever made her stop racing. she's the only reason i watch them go in circles. who else is going to learn french to curse out charles properly? user55: *sigh* guess it’s time to rewatch all of the edits of her and max on repeat until she returns user104: let’s make a game. take a shot every time max and charles mention her next season.

Monaco | March 2023

When you temporarily retired, you thought you'd become pregnant in a matter of weeks. That is not the case.

Movies make it seem so easy to become pregnant, when in reality, it’s a challenge. It took nearly four months and multiple doctor visits for you to become with child.

The Winter break was spent tangled in sheets, keeping warm in each others embrace. Max was insatiable and so were you. Any chance you had you’d be dragging him somewhere private, his hands pulling at your underwear to tug them off...or to the side.

Max's voice would be in your ear as he spoke of how good you take him. He'd encourage you with words he'd never otherwise use. His cologne would intoxicate you, putting you in a trance.

His hold was firm and steady, making you shake and arch against him. His length sinking into you until you came with his name on your lips and his seed inside you.

Then, it finally happened. A positive pregnancy test in your bathroom counter. The alarm rang loudly, making you and Max share a nervous glance.

“You look,” you say with a shaky voice and shakier hands. Your period was late, followed by your tender breasts and the morning sickness. You fear your body was making it up because you wanted it so much.

“Before that,” Max says, cupping your face, “Don’t be disappointed if it’s negative. We’re just getting started and we have a whole year to try, yeah?”

You place your hands over his and nod with a small smile. Max presses a kiss to your forehead before he picks up the home test.

Max erupts in a smile, nodding and showing you the word positive. You scream, falling into his arms. He spins you around, kissing all over your face.

You and Max are over the moon, giddily waiting for every appointment with your doctor. Every ultrasound was recorded along with the babies heart beat.

Max is ecstatic. He's been wanting to have a family with you since he realized you were the one. He thought it wouldn't happen for a long time but then you revealed you wanted it too and soon despite your career.

It took a long conversation to figure out how to go about it with both of your careers being at their peak but you came to an agreement. He was ready be a father and you were ready to be a mother, even if it meant putting your career in pause.

Your desire to bring a child into the world was greater than giving the championship another shot. Whenever you're ready to return to F1, he'll take a step back and support you.

Max planned a dinner with the whole family where you told them you were expecting. Plans to decorate the nursery littered your coffee table and your internet browser history was filled with shop links with cute clothes and baby items.

Weeks later, it happened. Something felt wrong, off.

“Maxie,” you breathe heavily, feeling wet between your legs. Cramps littering your lower abdomen.

“What's wrong?” Max sits up in bed, sensing your distressed state. His gaze fixes on the red stain forming on the white sheets.

“I’m scared,” you cry, afraid to move or do anything. Cramps squeezing your insides like a bad period.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” Max reassures you, “Let’s go to the bathroom, yeah? I’ll call the doctor.”

A quick trip to the ER confirmed it. You miscarried.

You couldn’t look at Max that night, hugging yourself tightly as he drove home. You ignored all the glances he threw your way, shiying away from the hand that reached out for you.

All that happiness you felt drained out of you, leaving complete sadness behind.

Max was sad about the baby but he was more focused on you and the toll it took on you. It was always a possibility. The doctor spoke about what to expect on the first trimester and this was one of the things he mentioned. You both chose to ignore it at the time.

Max kept most of the lights off in the apartment. Remembering the bags with baby stuff from your online shopping. He kept the spare bedroom closed, where you were planning how to arrange it and paint it to transform it into the nursery.

He’s never seen you this devastated. After years of knowing you and dating you he never had the chance to see you at your lowest. It breaks his fucking heart.

Max holds you that night while you're in pain and bleeding. He rocks you as you cry, tears spilling from his eyes too as all that new hope is crushed.

You need him. Max is all you have at the moment because while he goes to race on the weekends and clear his head, you stay home with the weight of losing a baby.

Zandvoort | August 2023

With medical clearance and a couple of months to heal mentally. You and Max got to trying again.

You aren’t quitters and again you both desperately want a child. There's lots of sex, more than before. Something reignited in the relationship, like when the relationship began. Nothing could keep you away from Max back then.

He would fuck you wherever he could. Often times risking being seen. It was a moment where neither of you cared about being caught or being exposed to the whole world.

The Two-Time World Champion and the Grid’s Princess. Happily Married and Horny for Each Other.

The second time you found out you were pregnant was in Zandvoort, Max’s home race. You weren’t traveling as much trying to give your body rest and hopefully encourage it to take but this was a special track for Max so you tagged along.

Similar symptoms were arising so you waited to arrive at Zandvoort to take the test with Max. You were once again in the bathroom, sitting on the counter. He was between your legs, his head on your chest, waiting for the four minutes to be over.

“If it’s negative?” You asked, your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp to relax him.

“Then we try again and again and again,” he says cheekily, grabbing onto your thighs and kissing you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” you giggle, pulling at his roots to make him groan.

“Perhaps but I’m not the one yelling out my name,” he smirks, recalling the other night when he had you with your legs up on his shoulders as he entered you slow and deep. If he closes his eyes he can hear your whiny moans begging for him to tip you over the edge.

“Poor Checo had to call the front desk and fill in a complaint,” you giggle, hiding your face from Max with your hands.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see his text,” Max shrugs, not having a care in the world.

He was in his suite with his wife, having fun and trying to conceive. It’s not his fault he was making you feel so good you felt the need to scream his name and it’s not his fault Checo’s bedroom was right next to yours. Blame the Red Bull team for reserving two suites right next to each other.

The triggering alarm sounds, making your heart race. This time you grab the test, deciphering what the faint lines mean. You ran out of the good pregnancy tests and you were too lazy to go out and get new ones.

“It’s positive!” You squeal, showing the home test to Max.

Max’s eyes widen, “We did it!”

“I'm so happy,” you tear up from joy, hugging Max’s shoulders. Nothing is stopping him tomorrow on the track. He’s going to ride this high as long as possible.

Max grabs your thighs, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. He carries you over to the bed, kissing your lips, your neck, your chest.

Max was going to make you scream out his name again.

There was little celebration. You and Max kept the news to yourselves for a while longer. You took every precaution on the book. You stopped traveling with Max afraid it was one of the causes of your first miscarriage. You took care of your diet, you did minimal exercise, took every prenatal vitamin you could find but much like the first time, it happened again.

This time you felt so defeated, like something was wrong with you. Like maybe you weren’t meant to bring a child into the world or become a mother.

Max found you on the balcony one night after it happened. It was freezing outside so he got a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“‘I'm sorry,” you sniffle, not meeting his eyes. Your tears were cold against your cheeks.

“For what?” Max asks, watching you carefully. Your eyes red rimmed and nose runny.

“There’s something wrong with me and I can’t give us a baby,” you cry softly, wiping away at your tears.

You feel so ashamed and embarrassed. Having a baby shouldn’t be this fucking hard. You’ve done so much in life and this simple thing you can’t do. Something your body was designed to do.

“Hey, no. You know what the doctor said. There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s so many other ways we can have children together,” Max chides you, pulling his chair closer and grabbing your shoulders so you look at him.

“If there’s nothing wrong with me why does it keep happening?” You ask as your eyes well with more tears. They haven’t stopped in a good ten minutes.

“It’s not our time yet.” It’s the only thing Max can say. He doesn’t have all the answers in the world but there is one thing he’s sure of. “I love you no matter what.”

“I don’t want to go through this again.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you speak. The words getting caught on your throat.

It’s not like you don’t want children because you desperately do but you can’t go through another disappointment. More pain and more blood. More false hope.

“You don’t have to,” Max tells you, comforting you the best way he can. He picks you up, settling you on his lap as he wraps his arms around you. He kisses your head, coming up with words to make you feel better.

He doesn’t want a child if the process is going to cause you so much suffering. It’s hard seeing you like this when he’s used to seeing you be this independent strong woman, who broke barriers in a field of men.

He’s discovering a new side to you deep into your relationship. He loves you but it’s shocking to see you be this vulnerable when a lot of times you love to handle things on your own. In a way, he’s happy he’s able to be here with you and help you.

Monza | November 2023

In Formula One rumors spread like wildfire. Within the teams and its members and riders the reason for your break didn’t remain a secret for long.

It didn’t stop certain teams from reaching out and persuading you into joining them. As far as they know you’re not pregnant yet and you did promise to return one day.

As the only woman in the grid you pull in lots of sponsors and the media and fans love you. Having you on a team is a win all around, considering you also bring in trophies.

Ferrari is a big team showing their interest in you. They’ve sent your manager multiple invitations for you to come and visit Ferrari Headquarters. No strings attached just a simple tour and meeting.

It’s tempting. Driving for Ferrari is every F1 racers dream and to be invited to test out their car and talk business is an honor.

You went quietly to the meeting, undecided if it’s the choice you want to make. Mercedes awaits your return whenever you’re ready, having led them to victory many times alongside Lewis.

Oh, Toto Wolff has you in his sight constantly. If he knew you were at Monza he’d probably fly down and get you out. You’re one of his biggest assets yet.

“There's our princess,” Charles greets you, running up to you and giving you a big hug.

He missed having you around. The fans never let him forget of all the good times, constantly tagging him on instagram and twitter.

“Hey Charles,” you laugh as he sways you from side to side.

“I missed you,” he says as he guides you over to the garage.

“Missed me kicking your ass?” You quip, playfully pushing him.

“Please, competing against Max on my own is exhausting. Too much responsibility,” Charles admits.

“He’s having the time of his life.” Max has the most fun when there are challenges and Charles has proven to be a worthy one. Insults and all. He loves getting a rise out of him.

The Ferrari team sets you up with a bright red race suit, giving you a visual of what your future has in store.

The feel of the baclavla is familiar around your head and the weight of the helmet comforting. It’s been a year since you last wore the uniform and it feels like home.

You step into the car, slidding in the steering wheel. The crew gives you the signal to pull out and you do with a push on the gas.

The rumble of the engine is exhilarating as is the blend of colors around you. It comes back so naturally, knowing when to push the car when to break. Learning this car is easy, like it’s made for you.

It has the potential to be a winner, to help you achieve the goal of becoming world champion.

“Ready to join Scuderia Ferrari?” Frederic Vasseif asks you once you get out of the car. There’s a smugness to him. He knows you enjoyed it and you’re itching for more.

“I don’t know. Carlos seems to be doing really well,” you try to play it cool, taking off your helmet and baclavla to shake off your hair.

“He’s good but you’re the greatest,” Fred says, giving you a knowing look.

“If I accept it’s because I want to win the Championship,” you negotiate. Charles is the first driver and it makes sense he stays there since he’s been with the team longer but you will not sacrifice yourself for him.

“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Fred agrees, extending his hand to shake yours.

“The predestined and the princess?” Charles smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

You smile and bite your lip, “It’s time to take down Max Verstappen.”

No wonder the fans think there’s a long standing rivalry between you and Max. You talk a lot about taking him down and winning the championship. With the trust you two have he bites back with words of his own. It makes for quite a show. They’re going to lose it once it’s revealed you’re joining Ferrari.

Your joy returning home is palpable. Max notices it the moment you walk into your shared home in Monaco. The cats notice it too as they weave between your legs asking to be pet.

"Hi, love," Max greets you, placing his hands on your hips and kissing you. You wrap your arms your his neck loosely, smiling into the kiss.

He doesn't let you go when the kiss breaks, his thumbs caressing your back. You smile at him, a hand on his face, as your fingers brush over his stubble. He leans into it. “How did it go?”

“It's top secret," you say cheekily.

"Really?" Max follows along amusedly, "You can't even tell your dear husband Max Emilian?"

It's been an inside joke since you started dating that the person you're dating is Max Emilian and not Max Verstappen. Helps keep things separated to a certain degree but mostly it's funny.

"Well, if it's Max Emilian asking I can tell him that I've just signed with Ferrari and that Max Verstappen will have some serious competition next year," you tell him as your smile widens.

“Congratulations!" Max exclaims, hugging you tightly. You laugh is music in his ears. From the moment you stepped in he knew something changed. You were laughing and smiling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“I’m a Ferrari girl now and I’m going to take that title from you,” she boasts, playfully pushing him.

“That’s a big statement,” he says, playfully caging her in his arms. Max adores that her competitive streak is back, it's one of the things he fell in love with when you began dating.

Being married means being there in the bad and the good, in sickness and in health. He'll be by your side through it all but he'd rather have you be happy and competitive than depressed and anxious.

“What you think I can’t do it?” You laugh when he tries tickling you. Your this close to elbowing him if he doesn't stop.

Finally letting up, he cups your face and looks into your eyes as he says, “If there’s someone who is going to do it, it’s you. You're my girl after all.”

f1 posted on instagram: The Princess is back and in red. Everyone bow down. 📸: Reader wearing a Ferrari race suit posing in front of the new Ferrari SF-23. Comments: user8: holy shit she’s back

user95: this was not on my bingo card, but it was in my dreams every night since she left -> user57: like a wise woman once said in rome; this is what dreams are made of

user72: guess she had enough of that married life and is back to wreck these boys

user14: i might actually fucking cry. our queen is back and in ferrari red -> user98: red is definitely her color. -> user67: you know who's color it is too? charles... ->user53: you know who likes charles? max... ->user17: i can't with you 💀

user67: i want to see max squirm with both charles and her against him -> user55: please if anything it’ll turn him on -> user45: hell even i'm turned on

user88: wait does this mean she can’t curse at charles anymore? -> user68: don't worry, the second charles gets in her way it's coming. don't you remember that one time she almost crashed with lewis and she let him have it? -> user 90: i've never seen lewis be that fast outside of a car

user12: i’ve got my editing program ready, i’ll get all the edits. max x princess, predestined x princess, max x charles, i got them all -> user56: i'm not picky, i'll help -> user02: you should do one where she's walking in like in those wwe fights with the dramatic music

Monaco | Nov 2024

The conversation about the pregnancy is kept on pause. You and Max wait till you're back home in Monaco to continue it. It's fresh in your minds though as you try and make sense of he timing of it all.

There's only two more races to the season, you are so close to the end. You wish you hadn't found out till much later, they do say ignorance is bliss.

You're filled with fear and uncertainty. What if this pregnancy ends up like the rest? What if you give up the championship for something that might not even happen? But what if you chose the championship and give up a viable pregnancy?

The morning after arriving at Monaco you're in the kitchen with your laptop in front of you as you schedule an appointment with your doctor. The cup of coffee you made earlier is now cold as you could barely drink it with so many thoughts in your head.

You cover your face with your hands, groaning at the headache forming so early in the day.

Max finds you like that and he knows it's time to talk. He comes up behind you, pressing a kiss and resting his chin on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind.

"What's on your mind, schatje?"

You take a deep breath, focusing on him to try and gather your thoughts, "I don't know what to do, Maxie. What do I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do. I can tell you that I want to have a baby with you but I don’t want you to go through all that pain again or feel pressured that you need to do this for me. I love you and I want you to be happy. If it's choosing your career I'm here for you. If it's starting a family I'm here as well," Max says as he hugs you tighter until you relax against him.

You shake your head, lacing your fingers with his as they lie on your midsection. "It's the fact that the first two didn't end well and it was such a horrible experience. If I knew for a fact I was going to give birth to this baby I would drop the championship in a heartbeat."

"I'm happy with whatever you choose. Even if you decide that carrying a baby isn't for you. Later on we can try surrogacy or adoption."

It's 2024 and there are tons of options out there in the case you want to become parents. It doesn't have to be one way or no way. Plus, they are young and have their lives ahead of them.

"Really? You couldn’t be like one of the awful men who insist women need to have a baby? You’re making this hard on me," you lightly joke, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss it.

Max laughs along with you. He knows you've made a decision even if you haven't realized. He's only there to guide you. “You already made a decision, schatje.”

Your eyes return to your laptop where the appointment with the specialty clinic is displayed. “I need to give this pregnancy a chance. I mean think about it. I've raced, I've drank alcohol and it's still here. It happened against all odds, Maxie. What if it’s a sign? That the timing is right,” you say, recalling the conversation you had with him a year ago. “I just hate I need to withdraw from the rest of the races.”

Max made a decision that same moment, “I’ll pull out from the races too.” It feels shitty that because you're a woman you have to pull out the races for your safety and the baby's while he continues on like nothing has happened.

“What? That’s insane Max,” you exclaim, staring at him bewildered.

“It’s only fair. You have to do it to have OUR baby, why do you have to be the only one who quits?”

You laugh and shake your head, placing your hands on his chest, “You’re not doing that, Max. This is F1 and it’s ruthless which is why you’re so good at it. Besides, with last Sunday's race you're already ahead of me and there's no chance the others are catching up with two races to go. The title is yours," you reassure him, kissing the corner of his mouth, “It’s not my time to be a world champion yet and maybe it never will. I have to accept that."

Max scoffs, poking his tongue on his cheek, “No, you will be. Once you have this baby you’re coming back even if I have to give away my seat in Red Bull.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you hum, looking into his eyes.

“You beat me on your rookie year,” he reminds you.

Back when you started in F1 and neither you or Max were on the top you had friendly battles in the midst of the races. It wasn't for podium but it kept the fans entertained and recruiters eyes on you both. Max beat you most times but there was one day you beat him on a wet race which is unheard of.

“Once!”

“Once was enough!” He insists. Max fell in love with your competitive side, it didn't matter if you beat him or not. That day when you approached him with that big smile and malicious intent in your eyes he was done for.

“How will we handle the media?” He steers the conversation a different place. He's not sure how much longer he can keep the relationship a secret with a baby on the way.

“Same as always. They can’t know about us yet, Maxie. They will throw your name on the ground and say horrible things.”

If the media finds out that you're pregnant with Max's baby they will say it's sabotage cause he felt threatened that you were going to take the title from him. They don't care for details.

“I don’t know how much longer we can keep this a secret,” he confesses, trying to reason with you.

“Not long okay? After the baby comes,” you promise him. After the baby comes you will tell the world everything.

F1_news tweeted: The Grid's Princess is withdrawing from the rest of the races this season due to her health. Not much is known yet. Carlos Sainz to take over her seat.

comments:

user56: not again please -> user97: i'm in tears -> user57: alexa play 'see you again' by charlie puth

user64: i hope she's doing okay and is able to return next year. she was so close on getting the championship

user76: i love the queen but i'm happy to get charlos back again! -> user34: it's very bitter sweet isn't it? -> user57: i wonder if she'll be back with ferrari next year? -> user45: well her contract is for two years so if she's okay when the next season starts i don't see why not -> user08: contracts mean nothing in F1 user04: get ready to witness a pouty max -> user 87: these next few races will be a piece of cake and he hates it -> user72: i love lando and charles but there's no way they are going to give him a hard time

user46: this is the end of the princess, who is going to want her back? -> user 43: get the fuck out of here you hater -> user345: who asked for your opinion?

F1_fanpage: The Grid's princess seen walking out of a clinic specialized in complicated pregnancies. 📸

user45: holy shit, it all makes fucking sense she’s pregnant -> user58: i didn't want to say anything but dizzy and nausea? it’s textbook pregnancy

user67: our queen is having a prince(ss) -> user176: who is the fucking dad? -> user404: he needs to be a part of F1 for her to still be around when she should be home resting

user47: she's glowing

user68: not her audibly rooting for carlos on the latest race -> user99: well it is only temporary and it's not like they kicked her out. she left because she had to -> user55: we love a supportive queen either way

user88: did ya'll see her interacting with max and charles after the race? they were so careful with her. it makes so much sense! -> user44: i'm hyperventilating we got a max hug! -> user 67: better yet we got a charles hug! -> user12: opening up my editing program as we speak

Part 2 Coming Soon

The world is aware you're now pregnant. You got a job working for the F1 social media and interview team during your pregnancy. Rumors keep spreading about who your husband and baby daddy is. Fans keep shipping you with Max and Charles. Max might just explode if he doesn’t tell everyone, but will he?

#`formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfiction #maxie ❤️#mv1 #mv33

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eff-plays · 1 year ago

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Ok so I watched the interview with Stephen Rooney, Astarion's writer, and here are some highlights. (I'm an aspiring writer and current game design student who wants to write for games so I'm sorry if some of these insights aren't as interesting to you as they are to me <3)

He calls Astarion his "horrible little vampire boy"

He loves seeing the fandom around Astarion<3

He did write other characters in the game, but mostly NPCs surrounding Astarion or his storyline, so it mostly revolved around Astarion

Astarion is not as connected to other companions/Origins as, for example, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, or Wyll and Karlach are to each other, but he is still reactive to their stories, even if it's just to stand off to the side and laugh when something terrible happens

He had a clear sense of where Astarion's story would start and end, but it got "muddy in the middle", but those are also moments where the best ideas come from

They write from the general idea that every character has one "good" and one "evil" ending, in order to give the player choice. RIP Ascendant apologists :(

According to Stephen, two of the most important aspects of Astarion's character (to keep consistent when bringing him to Idle Champions, at least) is that he enjoys violence, but is also fun about it

"He has a certain appreciation for violence, I guess? A bit of a murdery streak. [...] He's a vampire, he's all about blood, and he's all about, kind of, those darker sides of humanity. [..] But at the same time, he is ... He is really fun, he's really fun to write, he's really fun to have in your party, and it's very important for me that that is also represented."

"He's gonna stab you, but will have a smile on his face as he does it? I mean, I dunno. That's kind of him in a nutshell."

Larian would not have allowed for Astarion to be a typical brooding Dracula type, and there were scenes that were shot down for not being original enough

The main thing about Astarion was trying to get a "sense of fun." It would be easy to write a character that was very unlikable, and they absolutely did not want to do that

Rooney says Astarion is consistently terrible throughout the game and awful in a whole lot of ways, but he also needed to be charming enough that you could tolerate his presence and wanted him around

Rooney also had a lot of input on Astarion's stats (meaning the 10 Charisma is probalby 100% intentional)

He also had input on how certain lines should be delivered, even though the writers didn't directly work with voice actors

The way Astarion moves and poses is "all Neil"

Apparently, Neil Newbon worked on the character for years and Rooney did not speak to him once, though his voice work did influence how Astarion's lines were written and it became a "feedback loop" (Possible context for "ONLY SLIGHTLY, NEIL")

There were no points where a line delivery drastically changed Astarion's writing; rather it was a constant, slow evolution

However, there was one very spoilery moment where Neil gave such emotion to some "basic" lines that it fundamentally changed the scene (WHAT IS IT OMG)

It's difficult to balance approval, as you don't want to straight up write a monster. Every character needs to have some humanity in them. So if it comes to leaving the party, it needed to be the result of something central to said character. They wanted to be mindful of situations that would cause actual rifts between characters. (I assume this is why most generic disapprovals/approvals are +/- 1 or 2, while character-related ones give +/-5 or more)

However, as they don't write straight up horrible people/monsters, it doesn't come up as often as one might think.

The interviewer makes a point about how characters like Astarion and Lae'zel are good examples of how to play "evil" characters, as they are maybe not the best people but are still eager and willing to stick around the other party members

They worked to make sure the characters would work as a group, no matter the configuration of the group. The characters needed to be on the same path, even if they don't always agree or walk that path the same way.

Stephen Rooney is very proud of the "climactic" scene of Astarion's story. (AS HE SHOULD BE.) He even had to step away from the computer and have an emotional moment. Me too, man.

He's also "extremely pleased" that there's a point where you can punch Astarion in the face. "Actually, that one might be my favorite part" A MAN OF THE PEOPLE!!

Stephen Rooney's tip on what specific thing you should try out with Astarion: When he's trying to get a "sneaky nibble" at night, you should "probably" let him bite you. Way ahead of you there, sir.

No discussion about Astarion's romance unfortunately, but that's that!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #anyway ... after dragon age it feels so mindblowing to have writers who aren't apologists for their characters

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ayakashibackstreet · 2 years ago

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I'm surprised I mostly got what I wanted though, that usually doesn't happen

#just change Israel to Latvia and Switzerland to Netherlands and you basically have 100% my personal faves from this semi #but hey! 8/10 is a really good ratio!!#it's been a while!#Netherlands I'm a bit sad about because I'm so proud of how much they improved and I wanted them to rub it in everyone's faces #since apparently the Dutch media was very unkind to them #+ it's up there for me when it comes to the slower songs this year #and Latvia :(((((((((((( Latvia is like my top 10 possibly top 5 of the whole year :(((((#I thought I was ready for them to NQ and yet.........................#Latvia's awful unfair NQ streak continues #VT celebrates Eurovision #My mum's a bit more disappointed since she really liked Ireland and they didn't get in #She's also sad about Netherlands she was so sure they were getting in #I didn't want to ruin her time by telling her about the bookies lol #anyways time to browse the tag and go to sleep

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lecsainz · 11 months ago

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READY FOR IT

parings: luke castellan x ares!reader

summary: where you're the daughter of ares, and during a capture the flag game, you get angry with the son of hermes and the best swordsman at the camp, leading to a big fight with him.

an: I'm still trying to get used to the fact that the next time we see luke, he'll already be the villain 😭. and if you have any pjo requests, feel free to send them! yes, the title is from the taylor’s song, cause it was on repeat while I was writing.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )

You tightened every strap of your vest, ensuring it fit snugly against your body before the impending round of Capture the Flag.

The confidence in your team's prowess echoed within, just like the confidence in your own abilities. Your team's unbeaten streak reassured you, a source of collective pride among your half-siblings.

"Ready for another victory?" Clarisse's playful toss of her sword in your direction was met with your quick reflexes as you caught it, securing it to your waist, a reassuring weight that promised defense and offense in equal measure. "Of course! As always," you affirmed with a nod.

Walking in step with the other campers, you moved through the forest's lush foliage, Chiron's instructive words playing in your mind, an automatic script recited from countless past games.

Once Chiron signaled the start of the game, your gaze shifted to Clarisse, exchanging a playful yet determined glance. "See you on the other side," you quipped with a hint of competitive spirit.

"Better be!" She laughed back.

Parting ways from the group, you ventured alone into the forest you knew by heart. The plan was to grab the flag while the others distracted the blue team. It had always worked, so why change it?

The forest engulfed you as you traversed deeper, rustling leaves and the distant calls of woodland creatures accompanied the group, a symphony of nature lending an atmospheric backdrop to the impending contest.

The path you trod felt oddly tranquil, an eerie calmness in stark contrast to the usual pre-game adrenaline rush. It raised a flicker of unease within you, a foreboding sense of something amiss.

Eventually, the azure flag emerged, solitary and unguarded, a tantalizing prize nestled among the foliage. However, your intuition whispered a warning, urging caution amidst the apparent opportunity.

Your instinct proved right. A subtle shift in the surroundings alerted you, a subtle disturbance that stirred the air, prompting you to whirl around, unsheathing your sword with lightning reflexes.

"I knew it!" The accusation slipped from your lips as you swiftly aimed the weapon at the figure of the Hermes boy who had materialized behind you, an unexpected yet anticipated intrusion.

"The rules of the game don't include killing or maiming," Luke's voice echoed, his calm demeanor belying the tension.

"Since when do you follow rules, Castellan?" You retorted sharply.

Glancing around quickly, you realized it was just the two of you.

"Why are you alone?" You took a step forward, still pointing the sword.

"It's easier to catch you off guard," he shrugged.

Then you advanced towards him, but he held back the blow easily with his sword. But it seemed too effortless for the best swordsman in 300 years at the camp. You noticed he was going easy on you when he countered, and that made you angry.

"Stop," you demanded as you attempted a move you'd practiced with Clarisse earlier in the week, catching Luke off guard.

Luke used his shield to defend. "Stop what?" He asked, not understanding.

"Stop trying to be kind!" You spat. "I can fight with you without you going easy."

"I'm not being kind, I'm being fair," he replied, parrying your sword. "I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

That made you furious with the boy. You lunged at him with the sword, showcasing an anger inherited from your father and proving you could match Luke's level. With every strike you made, Luke stepped back until he found himself cornered behind a tree.

And with a final clash of swords, you ended up throwing Luke's sword away and stood face to face with him.

You breathed heavily, examining Luke, noticing details you hadn't seen before. And then, as you realized, you took a step back.

"Tired of looking?" Luke asked, a smirk forming on his face.

Pretending not to hear, you bent down to pick up Luke's sword. But as you reached for it, he was quicker, throwing you to the ground and pinning you down.

"Let me go, Castellan!" You squirmed under him but to no avail.

"You told me not to go easy on you, Y/L/N," he pinned your wrist to the ground when you tried to reach for his dagger at his waist.

"I hate you," you said.

Luke's laughter echoed through the forest, his eyes locked on yours. "No, you don't."

Frustration bubbled within you as you squirmed, trying to free yourself from his hold. He was strong, but you were clever.

With a swift movement, you feigned surrender, allowing your body to go limp beneath his grasp. Luke relaxed his grip slightly, thinking he had you under control.

But it was a ruse.

In that split second, you used the distraction to your advantage. You swiftly twisted your body, catching him off guard, and managed to slip out from under him.

Luke's eyes widened in surprise as you sprang to your feet, picking up his discarded sword and pointing it towards him. "I told you not to underestimate me, Castellan."

He smirked, impressed by your maneuver. "I guess I owe you an apology for that." You couldn't help but notice the glint in Luke's eyes and the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show

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hannieween · 10 months ago

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wanderer | heartbreaker series | c.sc

You were far from the girl that Seungcheol use to love. Because, time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell changed you.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader ✧ genre: smut (18+) ✧ aus: boss seungcheol, exes to lovers ✧ word count: 18.5k

↣ part i | other fics | taglist | ko-fi

₊🎧: blame – i.m ♡ | bad – so!yoon

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

✧ warnings: hurt/comfort harassment: gross interactions with men, kinda ? slow burn—it takes them a while to get down to business, foul language, smut with plot, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, reader is really subby, big dick seungcheol, pussy drunk seungcheol, oral sex (f, m), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v sex, manhandling, rough doggy style, creampies, dirty talk, pet names: love, angel, baby, newb, newbie (hers) daddy (his) ✧ please if you see mistakes, cont. errors no u didn't i'm very sleep deprived

✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part ii

A streak of bad luck has been following you around lately, so it seems.

The past few days you have been stuck with a decision, one apparently easy to make, but something held you back. And the dilemma had settled a feeling of deep regret in the pit of your stomach, from the moment you wake up, to the moment you laid your head in your pillows.

You were used to late nights. In fact, for the past two years you've been staying up late, dealing with the stressful pace of academic life and it slowly made you lose the need for sleep at night.

It was only 2 AM. And you were tired enough to force yourself to sleep, but the dilemma had you feeling alarmed and anxious to the point that it shook your body, impulsing you to take action, to do something, anything.

You sighed, trying to relieve the tumultuous pressure crushing you from the inside.

In a sudden movement, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, sitting up and saw your feet hanging.

You remembered the times you wished you could just pick up the phone and call your ex boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, and how deeply remorseful you were of breaking up with him.

It haunted you for weeks, which turned into months and now you were faced with the possibility of going back together, after two years of zero contact.

But, even if it seemed impossible, going back to Choi Seungcheol was not the most urgent of your decisions to make.

Bad luck, it seems.

First, you had to get a job quick in a local bar due to your bills piling up and your stipend not being sufficient to live on. Then, you had the surprise to find that your ex is the owner of said bar. Not only that, things had ended up bad with him. So the only solution was to have sex with him on his office, obviously.

And now, your roommate is giving you the very late notice that you have been mandated to vacate the apartment you've been renting for a year. Apparently you got the notice a month ago, but your roommate just forgot to tell you until it was evidently too late.

You packed your things, which luckily for you, were not many. So you only occupied a few boxes for your clothes and stuff that fit perfectly on the trunk of your car and the backseat.

Now, you just needed a new place.

And it was in the following morning that you decided to leave your apartment. You knew that this situation could be solved through some legal counsel, but for months, you and your roommate have been at odds and you suspected that was why they 'forgot' to tell you about it all.

It was tuesday and also the day that you had to vacate your place. Returning to the bar after a day off was not as fulfilling in the sense that you had little to no rest. Packing things, disposing of some others.

And now, you needed to sleep.

But the memory of fucking your ex occupied your head, it needed your attention. His hands all over your body, his soft moans in your ear, the very familiar touch of his lips. The memory itself felt like a fever dream.

A dream which you dragged onto your subconscious long enough to also haunt you in your sleep, when it finally came. You dreamed of him, you saw flashes of the night you met him and experienced again all the awful things you made him go through.

The sensible thing was to let your boss know that you had run into trouble and needed to find a place soon. But being so that would mean talking to Seungcheol, you decided not to tell anyone just yet. You could manage, you could get crafty.

Sleeping in your battered Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.

But that would come after your shift.

Tuesdays, according to Wonwoo, were really slow. To the point that he was leaning on the countertop, each elbow propped to hold a book in his hands.

"Where's Mingyu?" you asked when the bar opened for business and were one bartender short.

"He's not coming today," Wonwoo, his roommate replied shortly.

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright," he cooed and lowered his book, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "His girl broke up with him yesterday morning."

"Huh? Why?" you gasped. "I thought–"

"Yeah, me too," Wonwoo said and scrunched up his nose in discomfort. "It caught him by surprise too, destroyed him. Boss told him he could take the day off."

You faltered for a second. "God, he must be feeling terrible," you said and thought of the happy-go-lucky guy, heartbroken.

"Mmm-mph," Wonwoo hummed and clasped his hands together on the countertop. "Well, there's not much to do for today, I think. Boss will come by later tonight so maybe we could do the little boring tasks."

And by that, Wonwoo meant doing the things you did not have the opportunity to get done during the weekend shifts, tasks ranged from the usual to deep cleaning.

"You have a thing for cleanliness," you pointed after an hour of deep cleaning all the utensils for the bar, the blenders, the mixers. He even emptied the ice machine and gave it a thorough sweep.

"It clears my mind off things," he mentioned quietly beside you.

"Mm, I see what you mean," you nodded. It had been an hour of pure silence between you, except for the low humming of the speakers that played something of your request and you noticed that Wonwoo was silently vibing to it.

Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought.

"What does your mind need clearing of?" you pried while you cleaned all of the napkin holders thoroughly.

"A few things that have been occupying it for a few days," he replied with a soft tone to his voice.

"I assume as much," you quipped with a grin, which he did not see. Wonwoo's back was turned to you as he seemed to be finishing the tedious task.

"That's bartender talk," Wonwoo said, turning around as he dried his hands from the little bits of ice with a cloth rag.

"Or friend talk?" you suggested with a shy smile.

One thing you were certain of these past few days of drowning in your own thoughts in silence was that you needed friends. It was a truth you've been ignoring for your own sake.

After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, evidently siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you did not resent them for their choices.

"It's nothing, newbie," Wonwoo sighed and nodded to the task you were in the process of. "Almost done with that?"

"Yeah, why?" you said, trying not to convey that Wonwoo just refused your invitation of being friends.

"Boss is coming," he said, and he sent an inquisitive glance your way and nodded to the front door of the bar.

You jolted and turned with a gasp to face the door before you could even take control of your body.

Only to find that the door stood still, and no one was approaching it.

"What?"

Wonwoo coughed and you turned to see him, a weak attempt to hide a chuckle. "I see," he said in a nonchalant manner.

"What? What do you see?" your eyes narrowed.

He mumbled with a very tiny voice an unconvincing 'nothing', pretending to busy himself with another task.

"Tell me," you insisted, glaring at him.

Wonwoo looked over the thick paste of his glasses and grinned at your seething expression. "Fine, okay," he said and stood up right facing you. "Do you... have a crush on him?"

"A crush?" your voice raised an octave higher. "A crush?!"

Wonwoo pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, like a minor infatuation–"

"I know what a crush is, Wonwoo," you stopped him with a laugh.

"Ah, yeah. Well, do you?" he pushed his eyebrows.

"Why would I have a crush on him? I met him last week," you muttered unconvincingly and looked away from his curious eyes.

"And? I'm only asking because you act weird around him, even when he's not being a pissy asshole," he put in and you raised your gaze to find him scratching his chin.

"I don't think he's a pissy asshole," you interjected, and then shook your head. "I mean, he can be sometimes, but he has given me no reason to think that."

Wonwoo chuckled. "Right. Wait 'til something really pisses him off," he muttered. "But that's not what I wanted to say! You're really calm and collected and the minute he steps in, you're weird and shifty."

You looked at him in disbelief.

Wonwoo and Mingyu have been every step of the way with you since you started working at Seungcheol's bar. And you saw a potential of starting a friendship with both of them. It felt good to finally have a talk with someone in such a way.

"You are quite the detective," you pointed with a huff. "I just feel unnerved by him, Wonwoo. What can I say, you really helped pushing the asshole narrative around him."

"Around who?"

A gasp left your mouth again, but now it sent real shivers down your spine. You turned around to find Seungcheol standing behind you, quirking up an eyebrow at you.

"No one," you stuttered.

He wore what he usually did to work, just a plain white t-shirt, black jeans and boots. A pair of sunglasses pushed his pale blond hair back, it was still humid from what you assumed was a recently taken shower.

"Why are you chatting during work?" he asked with a low tone and looked at Wonwoo.

"I–we, we were working!" you blurted and dropped your gaze to your feet. "And talking... for a bit."

"What about?"

"A-bout something," you muttered nervously.

"Boss, she's terrified," Wonwoo chuckled and you lifted your gaze to see Seungcheol grinning from ear to ear.

And then he winked at you.

Your stomach dropped and you turned to see that Wonwoo was not watching your interaction with your ex turned boss.

"It's a slow day today," Seungcheol said with a commanding aura. "But don't relax too much, we're one staff short out here and I have a meeting later today so I can't be around much. It'll be just you two."

"Got it boss," Wonwoo nodded.

You nodded too, unable to speak a word under the nervousness tying a knot in your throat.

Wonwoo left the countertop and entered the kitchen, promptly leaving you and Seungcheol alone.

"How are you?" Seungcheol asked, his gaze had softened and started reading your face.

"I'm fine, Cheol," you put in unconvincingly. "Just a bit tired."

"We're just starting the week," he pointed, his eyebrow lifting slightly.

"I don't get rest," you said and added: "PhD stuff," you shrugged.

A restless feeling made your insides twist. Seungcheol knew you better than anyone on the planet. He knew your every mannerism when you lied and the shrug was a dead giveaway.

And he was also one of the smartest men you've ever met in your life.

"You better get around managing your time with that," he advised. "Don't want you to be overworked one week into this job."

You noticed his tone was not condescending, he looked a bit worried, even. His big brown eyes went over your worn expression, the dark circles under your eyes, chapped lips. And probably it did not help that you decided to forgo makeup that day.

"Okay... boss," you muttered softly.

But he was turning away from you already, effectively finishing your conversation when he pushed the 'STAFF ONLY' door and disappeared.

Deeply obfuscated, you meekly rubbed your hands in your jeans to wipe the sweat from them and returned to your seemingly pointless task, wanting nothing more but your shift to be over.

Seungcheol had been distant, keeping interactions with you at minimum. You understood he was giving you space, but you could not help but thing that he was probably taking your silence for a rejection to his proposal of going back together.

That night you had sex with him in his 'office', Seungcheol told you to think about his proposal, and give him an answer whenever and if you're ready.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now," he had whispered, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. "But please think about it, will you?"

You saw his brows knit together and you could've swore something stabbed you in the heart. "I will. I'll think about it," you assured him.

From that moment on, there was not a single day when you did not think about him. He plagued your mind, every day and every hour. The feeling of Seungcheol being in your waking thought resembled the time you were freshly broken up, and there was not a day that went by that you didn't think of him.

But of course, this time it was different.

After your shift, you pretended to drive away in your car, only to get back after driving a good fifteen minutes around the block and parking on the small parking lot of the bar.

Sleeping in your old Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.

You rested your head and propped up your feet on the deck while you tried to sleep. First night sleeping in your car was not bad, even as a voice in the back of your mind told you this was supposed to be hitting rock bottom.

But in reality, it wasn't. It was temporary, you told yourself. Shit happens. And you got yourself in this mess, so you would get yourself out.

Now, another one of the worries in your head was something that you feared so much you tried not to pay attention to: Seungcheol.

Being the one that broke up with him, you certainly had a lot of guilt to carry. And you still needed to have that conversation with Seungcheol, even if he was apparently avoiding it.

Said guilt manifested itself as a painful jolt in your heart every single time you thought about him. You knew you still loved him, probably never stopped. But you also broke his heart.

If you were even thinking of going back to him, you needed to have that conversation. And you weren't sure if you were equipped to face what he had to say.

Last time you checked the clock before finally falling asleep it read 5 AM. Which would mean that you had about three hours to sleep if you wanted to get important stuff done the following day.

On the following morning, you woke up at 11 AM. You quickly changed into normal clothes inside your car. It was so cold outside that your windows were thankfully condensed. You couldn't see out and probably and hopefully no one saw you change clothes.

You drove to your university campus. One of the perks of the campus was the gym, which had showers and hot water, everything you needed to freshen up. You tended to your needs and quickly moved to the library to do some apartment scouting.

Being in a PhD meant that you had to do a lot of research, mostly. Your tasks were reading, writing and presenting weekly results. But due to the time crunch you were in, you had to make do and search for a new place to live and send out some emails pertaining to your research.

So you had about six hours to maybe find a place to move in as soon as possible. It was a difficult feat, though, to find something affordable, in a close proximity to where you used to live and leasing immediately.

Hours flew by, your stomach jolting from anxiousness and hunger when you had to leave the library and drive to the bar.

You bit the inside of your lower lip. The mere idea of seeing Seungcheol had you sighing and muffling a small yelp of pure anxiety and your forehead hit the steering wheel, and you did it again, and again.

Three taps on your window made you jump in your seat and look up to find Wonwoo standing outside of your car, looking to the interior with a concerned face.

"Are you okay, newbie?" he asked, standing back as you opened the door of your car and stepped out.

"I'm fine, just hungry," you partially lied. You were hungry, but that was not the reason why you were banging your head against the wheel.

"You know that you have a meal, right? Boss didn't tell you?" he said slowly, pointing to the bar with his thumb.

"Nope," you shook your head once.

His eyes focused on the backseat of your car, which was stuffed with boxes, then he spotted your blankets and pillows huddled in the passenger's seat.

"Are you–," his eyes snapped back to yours. "Are you living in your car?"

You closed your eyes in defeat, sighing. "Yes," you replied flatly.

"Why?" he looked alarmed, but then he quickly added: "Are you okay? Do you want a place to crash?"

"I'm fine, Wonwoo," you tried to reassure him, but the tone in your voice betrayed you. "I... like it."

He blinked in bewilderment. "You're telling me that this is your choice?"

Wonwoo was so tall that you had to angle your face up to see him, your eyes squinted because of the daylight hitting your eyes.

"Yeah, it is," you weren't lying, but telling the whole story didn't seem like something you were equipped to do at the moment.

"I'd ask if you have someone you can stay with but if you did you'd be doing that already," he put in simply and then crunched his nose instantly. "Crap, sorry. Please ignore I said that."

You laughed awkwardly. "What was that?"

"I tend to have Freudian slips when I'm really really tired," he brought a hand to the nape of his neck to rub embarrassedly.

"What–Freudian slips," you huffed. "Well don't let me be around you every time you don't get enough sleep," you laughed.

"Just smack me in the head if I say something like that again," he looked embarrassed and it was a cute sight from the ever reserved Wonwoo.

"Noted," your eyebrows quirked up. "But I'm fine, you don't have to worry."

"You're not convincing me," he stated. "You can crash in our place, I promise Mingyu won't have an issue with it," he offered kindly.

Your heart swelled a little to the idea of someone worrying about you. Even if that someone you didn't completely know yet.

"And we're also not like, creepy or whatever. We'll give you space," he added, seeing your hesitation over it.

"I'll think about it over food, alright?" you gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, though. I really appreciate it."

That made him smile sweetly at you and nodded towards the bar with his head. "Alright, let's go inside."

"Hey, can I ask you a favour?" you walked by his side through the small parking lot behind the bar.

"Sure, anything," he nodded again with his head.

"Can you... not mention this to anyone? Specially Se-seungcheol?" you stuttered a bit.

He paused and looked at you. "You got it," he replied with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"Thanks," you muttered before going through the back door of the bar.

The dark hallway smelled faintly of floor detergent like it did before your shift. All of the doors were closed, so you didn't know yet where Seungcheol was yet as you walked through the door that led to the interior of the bar.

"No problem," he muttered softly and opened the door that led to the bar. "The reason why I approached you was because I have something I forgot to tell you last night."

You smiled. "You're being weird," you pointed. "Tell me."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, to then toss his backpack in the last booth at the back of the bar. "I'm tired, leave me alone," he muttered shyly. "I'm recruiting an extra pair of hands to help you during the weekends. I'm actually interviewing someone in a few minutes."

"Oh?" your eyebrows arched up. "That's nice! Do you want any pointers for your jerk persona now?"

He laughed shyly, his nose wrinkling a bit. "It's okay, Newbie. I'm not doing that this time."

"Why?" you frowned.

"Cheol is going to listen to the interview. And I don't want to see what his reaction would be," he muttered, looking around the bar for any signs of his boss. Your boss.

"Yeah, I wouldn't either," you mumbled with a smile.

"Go get your meal and I'll cover you if necessary, got it?" he nodded to the kitchen.

Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought. You had friends, yes. Some people you met in university that are in your life.

After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you didn't resent them for their choice.

The menu for today was chicken hamburgers.

Mingyu sat with you in the kitchen, keeping each other company as you both ate in silence. Mingyu ate his food at a slow pace and heavy reluctance. You noticed he was hungry enough to keep eating, but had little to no energy to do so.

It broke your heart to see him like this, his puppy eyes dimmed, the heaviness of his movements, barely talking. You gently patted his shoulder once and he almost jolted awake from his thoughts.

Mingyu patted the back of your hand and nodded in understanding.

You briefly thought of Seungcheol and that made your heart lurch even harder. Who stood by him when you left?

When you came out of the kitchen, some ten minutes later you started with your tasks, which mainly consisted in arranging cutlery, napkins, etc.

You could hear over the music Wonwoo's low voice speak with another person. So you assumed that he perhaps was in his interview, and you knew Seungcheol would be close, so you stuck to the other side of the bar, pretending to be busy.

The day before, during your shift, you took the same tactic: pretending to be busy to avoid even looking in the direction of your ex.

So you were restocking bottles of ketchup in the bartop where Mingyu was also busy himself, and didn't looked as glum when he had something to do.

His eyes lifted up and toward the bar's entrance.

"Oh, hi there Jeonghan-hyung," he called with a lazy smile. "Are you here to see Cheol?"

The exchange was quick, so the moment you looked up from Mingyu to the person he was talking to, you saw your former best friend walk into the bar, but stopping dead in his tracks when he saw your face.

"Jeonghan?" you blurted, your voice quivered with emotion, picking up a higher pitched tone.

His eyes widened and he approached cautiously as if he had seen a ghost. You identified with the feeling; your heart was pounding a mile a minute as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Despite your best efforts, tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion of seeing your best friend after years of no contact.

"Oh, you two guys know each other?" Mingyu's voice sounded faint in the buzz in your ears.

His brow furrowed. "Uh, yeah, she's-"

You made a motion to shook your head ever so slightly, as if saying stop right now, abort mission, and he, knowing you like the palm of his hand understood in a second.

"She's an old friend," he pressed his lips in an empty smile. He closed the distance between you and him.

You flinched a little when he pulled you into a hesitant hug, seemingly playing his part in the old friends thing; a situation you hadn't entirely processed yet. At least he understood your silent message and stopped himself from mentioning you were Seungcheol's ex.

"You got some explaining to do," he muttered in your ear so quickly that you had to take a second to process what he'd said.

"I know," you whispered and pulled away.

Jeonghan was the first friend Seungcheol introduced you to when you started dating, almost six years ago. The two of you hit it off instantly and formed a strong bond that ended rather tragically when you left.

So it could probably come as a shock to find the person who broke his best friend's heart after two years of zero contact.

And you didn't blame him.

"Uh, yeah. We're old friends," you muttered shakily, turning away from the still pale looking Jeonghan.

"Are you working here?" he asked in a low tone, and looked around.

You followed his gaze, understanding that he was looking for Seungcheol.

"Yeah," you replied with a shaky breath. "I've only been here for two weeks."

"What?" he whispered bewilderedly. "Where is he?"

"If you're looking for Cheol, he's interviewing someone right now," Mingyu interjected, still paying close attention to the conversation between you and your former friend.

Your eyes could not stop looking at him. Unchanging, never aging Jeonghan. Once your best friend, your brother and confidant. The ache in your heart was so sharp that it made your breathing quicken, swelling in your chest.

Jeonghan nodded. "Mingoo, can you tell him that I'm here, please?"

"Of course," the taller man turned to carry out the favour.

It was evident to you that Jeonghan wanted to get a minute alone with you. If Mingyu noticed it too, he didn't look the part.

"What the fuck?" Jeonghan whispered, dragging you to a corner and far from the ears of anyone else. "I thought you were in the other side of the planet. The fuck are you doing here? In Cheol's bar?"

"I came ba-back a year ago," you muttered, the internal turmoil had your in the brink of shaking.

"And?" his hand was still on your shoulder from where he dragged you out of earshot, he was leaning slightly toward you, still looking deeply confused and alarmed.

"I'm cut off from my family–,"

"Again? Fuck," he run his hand through his short black hair irately.

"This time is definite," you repeated the same thing you did to your ex. "And I needed a job so I got here but I swear I had no idea this was Seungcheol's. I promise I didn't know and Wonwoo hired me and–"

"Stop, stop," he whispered hurriedly, looking over at the bartop.

Wonwoo was returning from the interview, looking over at you and Jeonghan with his analytic eyes, the expression on his face didn't give away anything else.

"Han," Mingyu called from behind the bartop. "Boss says to meet him in his office."

Jeonghan nodded and turned to look at you. "They don't know, right?" he muttered through tight lips.

"Seungcheol doesn't want them to know."

"Fucking hell," he said under a breath. "I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

You nodded, feeling like you could cry. Which Jeonghan noticed, and quickly snuck a hand on the back of your head to pull you in a warm embrace, your face landed on his shoulder and you stifled back a sob.

"Come on, don't cry. Everything's fine," he muttered softly. "Bar's almost about to open and you don't want to be all puffy and red for that now, do ya?"

"Shuddup, Han," you giggled.

"I'm just saying. Now, I have to get going. But I'll call you okay?"

The hand on the back of your head ruffled your hair before pulling away, and you watched him walk away and disappear through the door that led to your ex's office.

You stood there contemplating the nothingness for a second before you felt someone's eyes looking fixedly at you. Wonwoo was working, but keeping an inquisitive eye on you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore his scrutiny by continuing to get the bar ready for open hours.

When the bar finally opened, you were eager to immerse yourself carrying orders out and basically doing anything that could distance yourself mentally from your ex.

After an hour, Jeonghan came back to the bar, looking the way he did when he needed to speak his mind. But he just pulled you aside after making sure you were free enough to do so.

"I'm still confused about all this shit," he muttered briefly. "Look, I only came here to drop something off and I need to go, but I want to catch up with you," then he hugged you again.

You returned the hug, closing your eyes to savour the moment as best as you could.

"I'll see you soon," he reassured you and pulled away once again, leaving the bar at once.

In a few words, your day was a bit shitty so far. It was the first time in two years you saw Jeonghan, who in all fairness, had all the right to not even acknowledge you after leaving his best friend heartbroken.

But to your surprise, he was open to have a conversation with you.

Something you were looking forward to.

The bar was starting to really pack up by 9 PM. And you understood what Wonwoo said about having a helping hand soon, because you could barely manage. Being a wednesday night, the bar was reasonably packed and you were growing more and more tired.

So you had to deal with a number of problems: despite being quick and efficient, you were only one person to cover most of the tables. Most of your orders got delivered on time, but you couldn't always be as fast enough and a couple of customers were starting to get annoyed.

Feeling stressed, you let out a heavy breath while you looked at the machine, preparing the bill for a table.

"Do you want some help?" you heard Seungcheol ask.

You turned abruptly with a start, a hand flying to your chest. "You scared me," you explained but it was evident enough.

His eyebrow arched and his lips pressed in a line. "I have to stop doing that," he muttered with a nod.

"Yeah," you sighed, straightening your t-shirt. "I'll appreciate that—some help, I mean. Thanks," you tried giving him a smile.

But you just couldn't. You looked up at his dark eyes, adorned by his beautiful eyebrows that frowned at seeing your face.

"Something wrong?" he muttered, reading your face.

"Can we-," you started, but you got distracted by someone on the tables waving for your attention. "Sorry, I have to get this," you got the bill and grabbed the pin pad and left to continue working.

You walked over to the table that was occupied by two older men. The one that had waved you down had that look on his face that made your skin crawl and put your guard up.

"There you are, sweetcheeks," he said in a gruff voice, raw from alcohol. "What took you so goddamn long?"

In your experience, you've had many people call you things. It certainly doesn't matter in those times you notice the names mean no harm. But this time, it was different.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and something told you to finish the interaction and ask for backup immediately.

"Are you ready to order?" you put in flatly, trying to maintain your expression blank.

"Oof," the other one interjected. "Aren't you nice," he spat with an obvious tone of sarcasm.

You sighed heavily and clicked your pen and pretended to wait for them to order.

"Are we boring you?" one of them spat.

At that, you knew you had to finish the interaction.

"Well, let me know when you're ready to order," you retorted and turned away from the table.

But a rough, calloused hand caught your wrist before you could walk away properly.

"Don't go yet, kitten," one of the two gross men whinged, you didn't care to look who it was.

In a split second, you thought of responding verbally to back off. But every cell in your body just wanted to walk away from the situation. Dealing with gross men was not something you wanted to do in that moment, you just wanted to walk away.

With a clean move, you yanked your wrist away from their grasp, turning to give the deadliest stare you could muster to the guy that dared to touch you and walked away hurriedly.

Neither of Wonwoo or Mingyu appeared to have witnessed the crude exchange. But in your hurry, you stumbled against Seungcheol who was just walking past you.

"What's wrong?" he stopped you, looking at your face carefully.

You probably looked disturbed, and rightfully so—you felt deeply unnerved. It was not your first time dealing with gross men, it wasn't even your first interaction with someone rude in the bar, but it was the first time someone dared to touch you.

"Nothing—those guys are fucking rude," you muttered offhandedly, but you knew there was no deterring from Seungcheol's scrutiny.

"What did they say? What did they do?" he asked darkly.

"Cheol, I'm fine, just–," you looked up, his gaze had hardened completely. You faltered. "They grabbed me and called me gross names," you blurted and held your wrist, trying not to convulse in utter repulsion.

"Who?"

His eyes were devoid of all liveliness, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. That was the real angry Seungcheol you knew.

You pointed meekly towards the table you just walked away from.

"Go to my office," he muttered before approaching the table.

The last thing you saw was Seungcheol make a sign with his hand at Wonwoo, who just nodded and left his post in a heartbeat before you walked to the door and into the hallway.

You made a stop at the bathroom to frantically wash your hands and attempt to calm yourself down. The attempt was futile, though, because you felt like you had been shaken to your core.

When you opened the door to Seungcheol's office, you half expected to find the dark room lively and packed with gamblers. But it was completely vacant, it made you feel uneasy. You desired to hear the bustle of the active gambling tables.

Instead, you sat at a chair near the entrance. Not wanting to go to Seungcheol's large desk in the corner of the room for obvious reasons.

The door was pushed open some ten minutes later, which to you felt like an eternity.

"Are you alright?" Seungcheol closed the door behind him, but he didn't approach.

You nodded with your head. "I'm fine," you muttered. "What happened?"

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It's taken care of," he replied simply.

But you knew he was acting controlled—probably still containing his anger.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling ashamed. "I could've handled the situation–"

"You don't have to apologize," he cut in, lifting a hand to stop you.

He closed the distance between you and him and crouched in front of you, so now, you were looking down to find his dark gaze.

"Nobody lays a finger on you. You know that, right?" he said as he reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.

The many times you've heard Seungcheol say that in the past. Oh god, the mental whiplash it gave you to see him like this again, to hear him say the same things he used to when you were together.

You bit your quivering lower lip and nodded. "I know," you replied.

"I can't prevent something like that from happening again. But never apologize for stuff like this. It's not your fault."

You sighed heavily because of the emotions swelling your chest. "Alright," you whispered.

His dark eyes studied your face again, noticing how shaken you still were because he stood up, not letting go of your hand to pull your body gently to his own.

"Come here," he muttered.

You stood up from the chair, being pulled to a warm embrace by Seungcheol. You buried your head in his hard chest and at that, you let yourself crumble under the swell of emotions that plagued your whole day.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," he whispered, bringing a hand to caress your hair.

God, you could die in his arms. It surely felt like that. So many times had he lent a shoulder for you to air out your emotions, but this time felt like being born again. You stayed in his arms for quite some time until you felt like you were okay and slowly pulled away.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked in a soft tone.

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. "'m fine. I have to go back," you muttered.

"You don't need to if you don't want to," he suggested.

"That's not fair for the guys," you pointed. "I'll go back. Thank you for... everything," you darted a look.

At seeing his serene eyes, your insides jolted uneasily. You urged to kiss him, to listen to his voice and laugh, it had been so long since you've heard his bursts of laughter you ached for it.

Seungcheol was looking at you attentively, his eyebrows nudged slightly. "You were going to tell me something before."

You sighed, nothing ever escapes him. "Can we talk?"

His gaze softened. "Of course," his lips pursed in a downturned smile.

"After work?" you suggested in a small voice.

"Whenever you want," he replied.

Your heart hurt from how eager he looked for a second.

You nodded and whispered, "Okay," before exiting his office and returning to the bar.

It was the last hours of your shift, so most tables were leaving before the closing hour. The table where the incident happened stood vacant until you closed the bar for the night.

"Guys," Seungcheol called once the place had emptied of customers and everyone was good to go home.

Wonwoo and Mingyu stopped what they were doing in the moment to look at their boss.

"We need to talk about what happened tonight," he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his pale blond hair—a dead giveaway that he was getting heated again.

"Yeah, what happened, boss?" Mingyu frowned. "One minute, Newb was managing the tables just fine and the next you were kicking out two dudes on your own."

Your cheeks flushed and your gaze dropped to the floor.

"Two idiots thought it was okay to lay hands on her," Seungcheol put in darkly, and sighed again. "I apologize for the way I acted but–"

"It's okay," Wonwoo intervened calmly. "We understand."

Your eyes narrowed and you found Wonwoo offering a quick knowing look to you.

"It was... kinda epic boss," Mingyu looked exhilarated at the memory. "I mean, no offence but the way you handled those guys?"

Mingyu made a brief reenactment by using Wonwoo's body as a prop; grabbing him by the nape of his neck and twisting his arm behind his back.

Wonwoo snorted and broke away with a small smile on his lips.

You muffled a groan in sheer embarrassment. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience I caused guys. The least I wanted to do is cause a sce–,"

"What?" Mingyu blurted. "Newb, don't apologize for that. The minute you feel someone is disrespecting you, tell us."

"And if anyone oversteps again, they will be kicked out. By any means necessary. Don't even get their bill. I don't care," Seungcheol instructed.

"Got it boss," Mingyu nodded.

"Also, a new hire is coming in tomorrow, to lift some weight off your shoulders," Wonwoo told you directly.

"Wait, so Newb will need a new nickname? I kind of got used to calling you that."

"How about you call her by her name?" Seungcheol retorted with a huff.

"What's your name again?" he asked you, and burst in a goofy giggle. "I'm kidding, 'm kidding."

You rolled your eyes, but seeing Mingyu laugh easily made you smile and laugh with him.

Seungcheol caught that, a small glint of contentment appeared in his eyes and you could see that the corners of his lips twitched before he pretended to cough and walk away and into his office.

"Freakin' weird," you heard someone whisper and raised your eyes to see Wonwoo shaking his head.

"What is?" you dared ask, seeing that Mingyu had busied himself in other stuff so it was just the two of you.

"Cheol is been acting weird all week," he shrugged and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening, but you two were alone. "And I'd never seen him this upset."

Well, I have, you wanted to reply but that would be a lot to explain. Not towards you though, he never got irked at you. Arguments with him could get heated, but never in the way that would get anywhere near that intimidating.

"Is it the first time something like this happens?" you asked instead.

"Nothing like this," he shook his head calmly. "We've had a few cases of problematic people but... whatever. Have you decided yet if you want to crash at our place?"

The sudden change in conversation made you snap back to reality. You had almost forgotten that you were sleeping in your car.

"I uh..."

"Newb is staying at ours?" Mingyu came back carrying his backpack on one shoulder.

You both looked at the taller man who was fixedly looking at his phone screen, a small smile appearing on his face.

"No, guys. Thank you but I need to... sort out some things first," you replied hesitantly.

"Oh okay," Wonwoo shrugged. "Are you sure, though? Sleeping in your car doesn't sound pleasant."

"I'm fine," you maintained. "Thank you."

You were barely familiar with Wonwoo and Mingyu, they haven't given you any reason to not trust them but it just didn't feel right to accept their proposal.

Wonwoo nodded. "Let me know if you need anything," was the last thing he said before exiting the bar along with his roommate, essentially leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

He was in the backroom, as you supposed. You glanced first inside the dark room, only to find him sat in the long chair, elbows propped in his desk, his eyes immersed in his phone screen.

You landed a knock on his door, and his eyes snapped to find you by the doorway.

"You don't have to knock," Seungcheol showed you a gummy smile and nodded toward you, the movement making his blond bangs fall on his eyes.

"Sorry, didn't know if you were busy," you explained as you made your way to the desk, using all the strength you had in you to push the memory of him fucking you in this same desk just two nights ago.

His dark eyes were fixed on your face and he stood up so he could level with you.

"Everything okay?" he asked in a low tone, denoting his anxiousness.

"Yeah, just," you swallowed thickly, feeling already very restive. "I wanted to talk about what happened."

An awkward smile rose in his lips. "When?"

You sighed. "Last week," you muttered shyly. "We can't do that again, Cheol."

When you didn't follow up, you could see his features change and break. He nodded in silence and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Then it dawned on you that you weren't being entirely clear. "I mean, I work here now. And the guys are not dumb, they are catching on a few things."

"Why do you say that?" his eyes met your again.

"Wonwoo thinks I have a crush on you," you said while trying not to blush.

"Why?" he frowned. "He told you that?"

"Yeah, he was a little upfront about it. But not only that, I... kind of got emotional when I saw Jeonghan earlier today and Mingyu noticed," you muttered with some embarrassment.

"Oh," he blinked and his eyes appeared to be knowing. "I should've given you the heads up that Jeonghan was stopping by. I'm sorry."

A frustrated sigh fell from your mouth. Suddenly feeling like you could explode from so many emotions under one day. The exasperation in your eyes made Seungcheol frown.

"But that's what I'm supposed to say, Cheol: I am sorry. I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for how I ended things," you said, your voice thickening with emotion.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, and it broke you how much it still hurt.

"No—please, Cheol listen to me, I could have done things differently, but I was irrational. Trust me, the minute I boarded that plane, I wanted to go back–,"

"You had no choice," he cut off, his frown deepening. "Baby, don't think for a second that I blamed you for that. You were left with no choice. I understand that now, and I moved on."

Your eyes welled up in tears and rolled down your cheeks as soon as the words sunk in. "But I left anyway," you insisted. "I'm sorry for leaving."

His eyes glistened, a hand reaching out and grabbing yours. "I'm sorry for not trying to stop you."

It was like reopening a wound in your heart. The pain from it shook you so hard that you physically recoiled from it. Many times, you wished he had stopped you from leaving, but you had to live for years with the knowledge that he respected your choice to go.

"Cheol, don't be–,"

"But I am, I'm sorry for letting you go that easily when we could've tried and find a way to solve things together," he explained, his voice dropping to a mere murmur and you could tell that he wanted to have this conversation for the longest time.

Then his hands cupped your face, making your chest tighten under so much resentment and pent up emotions from the past two years.

"Look at me," he whispered and you met his dark eyes. "We both made a mistake. But we can fix it together."

You grabbed his wrists, brushing his skin with your thumbs. "I need more time to think, Cheol," you pleaded. "My life is a bit chaotic right now."

His eyes softened as he felt your touch. "Take all the time you need," he replied in a low murmur. "I'm here whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, Cheol," you whispered, mustering a small smile. "I promise I'll sort things out soon."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll wait for you. Don't worry," he assured you, squeezing your hand gently.

A deep sigh escaped you, revealing that you had been holding back tears throughout the entire conversation. Your throat tightened, and within moments, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down as the last image you saw was his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

A second later his arms were wrapped around you again. You instantly hid your face on his shoulder to cry freely, releasing all the guilt you've been bottling up for the past two years.

But hearing him apologize to you too made you discover that you've been wanting this for the same amount of time. You always felt like he let you walk away from his life too easily, even if it took you all the energy you had to do it.

Seungcheol's arms held you close, but you could feel his face snuggling on the crook of your neck, comforting you with his hands rubbing your back.

He let out a shaky sigh. "It's okay, baby. Let it all out. It's okay."

After five minutes of sobbing on his shoulder, you pulled away sniffing and trying to smooth down his ruined t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry that hard. I just had the shittiest day," you muttered, gathering yourself and wiping your tears.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "I know, baby. I know it was hard. Don't let me rob you of more time you could use to be resting."

He motioned towards the door and got the lights of his office before stepping out into the parking lot behind the bar.

"Is working with me horrible?" he wondered, looking at the night sky. "I guess working with your ex must be stressing."

"Is it stressing for you?" you retorted as you made your way to your car.

"A bit," he admitted, showing you a smile to let you know he was joking. "It's not, really. Just the first day, I was losing my shit."

That made you chuckle. "Me too," you coincided. "But to answer your question, no. Having you as my boss is not as terrible as the boys said it'd be."

His thick brows furrowed. "They say that?" he pouted.

"Oh, you didn't know?" you asked alarmed. "Forget I said that."

His face relaxed and he grinned again. "I'm just playing with you. I'm well aware of what they say."

You shrugged and tried to come up with a response but a long yawn got in the way, making you shudder and almost shed a little tear.

"Wow," he laughed. "You need to get some rest, soon."

"Hm, sorry," you mumbled shyly, feeling a blush creep on your cheeks. "It's just that I haven't been getting much sleep and with the research and apartment hunt... 'm just so stressed about it."

"You didn't tell me you were in the middle of moving," he blinked, looking a bit more serious. "Do you need help with searching?"

You bit your tongue. Was that a Freudian slip?

"I uh... actually need a place to stay as soon as possible," you admitted.

"I'm not following," Seungcheol frowned.

The face he made next made your insides twist. He pursed his lower lip upward, pouting slightly. It was so rewarding to see him lose the initial resentment he had just a few days ago.

But deep down you knew that rebuilding your relationship with him would probably result difficult.

So you decided to start with being honest.

"My ex roommate gave me the late notice that we were evicted," you explained slowly: "I've been sleeping in my car for the last few nights."

"What, seriously?" he leaned toward the windows of your car to take a look inside in.

More than appearing to be worried, he looked kind of disappointed.

"Why didn't you–," he started, but then he seemed to remember: "Oh, wait. You were taking your space."

"Sorry about that," you shrugged. "I've been managing just fine but I do need to find a place soon."

You watched him nod with his head and press his lips together, making the dimples on his cheeks show.

"Seems like you're coming with me," he cooed softly.

You arched an eyebrow. "Don't look so unwilling, Cheol. You're making me feel bad," you quipped.

He just sighed and tutted softly, the way he did when he was putting the show of being disappointed. His hand fished the interior of all his pockets and pulled out his car keys.

"You can leave your car here," the locks of his grey wrangler clicked off. "Now let me move your stuff to the trunk."

You reluctantly unlocked the doors of your car and Seungcheol flung the backseat door open to unload the cardboard boxes and put them in the trunk of his car.

"Thank you," you smiled once Seungcheol loaded the trunk of his jeep with your stuff.

"Don't mention it," he muttered as he opened the door for you.

You climbed in his wrangler and looked around. "You got your dream car," you pointed, sinking in the creamy white leather seats that still smelled brand new.

"You remember," he said with a smile that reached his sleepy eyes before starting the engine.

Of course I do, you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that there wasn't a single day in your two years without contact with him that you didn't remember him.

Seeing Seungcheol at the wheel, driving in the dead of the night brought a slew of memories. The amount of times he would drive to get you back home before dawn, or the times he'd pick you up to take you to dinner.

He would grab the steering wheel with one hand and with the other he would stroke your thigh with his thumb. Sometimes he would tease you a little, dragging his knuckles down your thigh, then down and so on.

"Your thoughts are loud," he muttered and sent a knowing look at you.

Your ex boyfriend was different now. Not the younger, dark haired version that used his brother's car to get you back home before your parents noticed you were gone.

It wasn't just the hair that had changed, or his body that gained more muscle mass.

"I was just... thinking," you mumbled, looking away from him and into the quiet streets.

"Yeah, I just said that," he laughed goofily.

You felt your heart swell hearing his goofy laugh, it made you choke back a sub. "Stop it," you whined, but couldn't resist to laugh with him. "I'm tired. I can't think straight."

He sighed with a smile on his face. "Do you want to grab something to eat or do you want to go straight to bed?"

"Bed," you muttered, dropping your head to the window beside you and letting yourself rest a little.

The car came to a full stop some five minutes later.

You blinked and stretched your arms, unbuckling your belt as Seungcheol opened your door for you. To get out of the car you practically had to jump and that made him smile fondly.

"Do you have all your stuff there?" he asked nodding to the boxes.

"Yup. I don't own much," you explained, searching for a medium sized box labelled 'pjs and stuff' where you put everything you needed for sleeping such as hygiene stuff, pyjamas and undergarments.

"Let me carry that," Seungcheol hurried, taking the box from your hands. "Do you need anything else for tonight?"

"Mmm dunno," you considered to look for the box that had your jeans and most used tops but you were just too tired to do so.

"Let's go up then," he nodded towards a building and you walked towards the back door, you pushed it open, letting Seungcheol through.

"Can you get my keys, please?" he asked before stopping in front of the elevator doors. "They're in my back pocket."

"Which one?" your arm circled on his right side.

"I don't know," he replied with the ghost of a smile, looking down at your face.

You let out a sigh and dug your hand on the back pocket of his black trousers, practically feeling his firm ass to find the pocket empty.

"I'll try the other pocket," you mumbled shyly, and circled your other arm to dig into the other pocket. "It's empty, too."

Your cheeks were growing hotter by the second, because the enjoyment in Seungcheol's eyes was undeniable. You rolled your eyes and palmed the front pockets of his trousers to find the keyring on his right front pocket.

"What, no groping this time?" he chuckled a little.

"Don't push it, Cheol," you sighed and called the elevator and used the fob key on the sensor.

"We're going to one-eight," he nodded to the buttons of the elevator and you followed, pressing the button to the eighteenth floor.

"That's high," you pointed. "Is that the second to last floor?"

"It is," he nodded and rested the back of his head on the wall.

"When did you move here?" you pried.

Seungcheol was standing across from you, so you could see him clearly under the dim lights on the elevator.

"Five–six months ago," he replied, looking upward while he remembered. "I moved out of the other apartment a month after you left, if that's what you're actually wondering."

It was what you actually wanted to know.

Seungcheol didn't use a condescending tone whatsoever. His tone was quiet and his eyes told not resentment but reassurance: he tried to move on. You couldn't reproach him for moving out of there and leaving everything behind.

You nodded silently, wanting to ignore how much it hurt you to know that you'd be facing all the things that he had to do to forget you.

"I can sleep on the couch. You can have the bed," he offered before the doors opened for you and slipped to the shiny floor of the hallway.

But before you could answer that you were okay with sleeping on the couch, you went after him. You actually already felt that he had done so much for you by letting you sleep at his place, you didn't want to take his bed as well.

"This way," he showed you to the door. "Use the number pad."

"Oh, this is really fancy," you muttered.

"As if you've never seen something like this before," he rolled his eyes, but a smile of pure endearment lifted to his eyes. "You know my passcode."

"I don't?" you blinked from him to the lock.

Is it...?

"Yes you do," he muttered beside you.

You entered the only number combination you knew he used to have on his phone's passcode lock.

"Why is our anniversary date still your passcode lock?" you asked when you opened the door to his apartment.

It was disconcerting to see him detach himself from all memory of you while still keeping something as significant as the day he asked you to be his girlfriend as his passcode lock, something that remained a part of his daily life.

"I use it for everything still," he admitted as he set down the box on a table and turned on the lights of the living room.

Though that was not necessary, since the wide windows of the living room stood tall and wide, from floor to ceiling, welcoming the faint glow of the city lights that filtered into the room, illuminating dimly.

"Why?" you asked again, standing by the doorway still.

"Well I didn't want to change everything, it was way too much work. And honestly, I suck at remembering stuff," he shrugged and used his hand to motion you over to him. "Come on in. I'll show you to my bedroom."

"I can crash on the couch, Cheol," you insisted, walking into the interior of the apartment after kicking your shoes and placing them beside his.

The apartment had a sophisticated feel to it, with faux marble floors complementing the countertops in the kitchen open to the living room. In the centre of the living room was a plush cream-colored rug. A long couch and armchair surrounded the coffee table.

Seungcheol always had a good taste, but the paintings on the walls and accents here and there made you think that maybe he had help with a few things.

"You are sleeping on the bed," he concluded, grabbing the box again and showed you to a door that led to the master bedroom.

The bedroom also had tall windows, partly covered by blackout drapes. Seungcheol put the box with your stuff on top of a dresser and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Make yourself comfortable. If you need anything let me know," he smiled fondly and left the room to give you your privacy.

Even though it was not a week that you and Seungcheol had sex in his office, you welcomed the very needed space and privacy he was giving you.

You took the liberty of using the shower and even using his towels after forgetting to bring in yours.

A while later you came out of Seungcheol's bedroom, dressed fully in your fuzzy pyjamas and found your ex lounging on the long couch, looking at his phone until he spotted you waking towards him.

He sat up when you stopped just before him and sent a confused look at you.

"I used your towel. Hope that's okay," you sat beside him with a tired sigh.

"You're free to use all my stuff," he muttered softly and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

"Thank you Cheol," you whispered shyly, toying with the casing of your pyjama bottoms.

"Don't worry," he sighed as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I'm happy to help."

That drew a smile on your face. Seungcheol was someone that always made you feel safe, he used to be the person you trusted the most.

You let out a weary sigh through your nose, your eyes going over the nicely decorated apartment. There were no signs that he actually lived there—everything seemed neat, carefully placed, untouched and barely used.

Knowing him, he probably spent more time at his bar than in his home.

"Are you falling asleep?" you heard his low voice ask.

"'m trying to," you turned your head to find his tired eyes.

"You're not sleeping on the couch," he muttered with a pout. "If you fall asleep here I'll just carry you to bed."

The reaction those words caused inside you was of a fiery excitement. You smiled, feeling yourself flush a little.

"Well don't mind me then," you muttered cheekily before pretending to snuggle his shoulder as if it were a pillow and you closed your eyes.

"If that's what you want, just say so," he muttered with a tone of bemusement.

He promptly stood from the couch and snuck his arms underneath your body that was on the couch and carried you bridal style back to his bedroom.

The joy you felt at being treated this way again was not foreign to you. Even when you were his girlfriend, you felt elated at the princess treatment he gave you.

But reliving it also caused you to feel emotional, nostalgic of having him back into your life like this.

"There you go," he muttered as he carefully placed you on the side that you noticed he used on his bed, since the bedside table was the only of the two that was cluttered.

You quickly grabbed his arm as he was standing back from the bed and pulled him in, using the vulnerability of his stance to fully bring him on top of your body.

"What are you—," he chuckled as he stumbled on top, he was stronger than you so his hands stopped him from fully crushing you with his body, placing them strategically on the bed and at your sides.

You sighed in pure adoration at seeing his gummy smile again. Despite the tired look in his eye, he seemed relaxed, almost content as he pressed a knee on the bed to regain balance when he understood what you wanted.

Your hand slid on his nape to drag him into a needy kiss, which Seungcheol responded to in a split second with a groan that was muffled in your mouth, kissing you as fervently.

"I thought you needed time," he groaned, pressing his lips on yours a couple of times before trailing down to the underside of your chin.

"I need you, Cheol," you whimpered as his wet lips reached your throat, placing an open mouthed kiss to make his way to your collarbones.

Seungcheol stopped and turned his head to face you. "What do you need, baby?" he asked with a weary tone.

You knew that it was a tricky situation and that you still needed time to think if you were ready to go back to him fully.

"Can you lie down with me? And hold me?" you asked in a tiny voice.

His smile was warm. "Of course."

Seungcheol cuddled behind you, hugging your body closely to his own.

Moments passed, silence dragged on and you could sense that Seungcheol was wide awake. He snuggled his face on the back of your head, breathing you in.

It almost broke you to think of the times you needed this. When you were alone and far away in a distant country, you ached for his warmth and care. The simple reassurance of his presence was something you longed for so many nights.

You knew he missed you too. Every now and then he would tighten his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.

"Why are you not sleeping?" he asked after what felt like an eternity, or so you wished for.

"I can't," you admitted with a sigh of defeat.

"You want me to go now?" he started to move his arms from your body.

"No, don't–," you stopped him from breaking his embrace. "Stay."

"You have to get some rest, baby," he urged.

You turned in his arms to face him and curled up against his body, your hands sneaking past his chest and to the sides of his neck, to angle your face to his and kiss him sweetly on his full lips.

He hummed into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back but stopping before your bum. You smiled, not caring that he'd feel that on his lips and decided to press the full front of your body against his.

At that, he broke away from your lips, his eyebrow twitched. "Someone's needy," he muttered before diving into your mouth again, kissing you hungrily.

You chuckled and wrapped a leg over his hips, understanding what you wanted he pushed your back to the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

"Do you want me to help you sleep, baby, is that it?" he asked, darting a curious look to your eyes.

You only nodded eagerly with your head, feeling a blush creeping in your face.

His mouth pressed into a smile. "You haven't changed in that, love."

A fiery rush of emotions invaded you. Maybe you have changed in some aspects, but he always read you so well, better than anyone. In the four years you were lucky enough to be his girlfriend, he made a big commitment to remember every detail about you.

Seungcheol wasted no time and moved his body back and sat on his heels to hook his fingers on your pyjama bottoms and yank them off your legs swiftly.

He sighed in delight, looking down at you.

"What?" you asked, growing timid under his awe-struck gaze.

He shook his head slightly. "I just–," he pushed his blond hair with his hand. "I never even imagined that-"

Seungcheol was practically stuttering and he smiled in defeat when you laughed at his struggle.

"Come here," you extended your arms to him and he leaned his body towards you.

You cupped his face with your hands to kiss his full lips softly, enjoying the fact that he was just as jittery as you were.

His hands slid beneath the fuzzy material of your top, his thumbs rubbing your nipples in small circles as his tongue dragged your lower lip, eliciting a low whimper from you.

"I missed you so much, baby," he whispered as he broke away from you to get rid of your top.

"I missed you too," you replied to him as soon as he returned to press loving kisses on your face.

Your fingers tangled in his long blond hair, and as he pushed away from your face, you saw his glinting eyes, revelling at the sight of you.

The endearment written on his face made your chest hurt. It was clear what he meant to say but wasn't ready to speak the words yet. You tried smiling but resorted to blink slowly at him once as if saying, 'I know, me too.'

Seungcheol flashed you a smile in response, clearly getting the message.

He kissed your lips once before dipping his head to kiss your collarbones, pressing soft kisses over the dark hickeys on your tits as his thumbs played with your nipples for a second time.

You hummed into his mouth, feeling yourself swept away by the tenderness of his kisses. He slid his hands on the sides of your body, caressing your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When his fingers grabbed the band of your panties, he broke away from your lips. His hands slowly slid your panties down your legs, looking at you fondly as you lifted your feet from the bed and his fingers dragged your panties from your ankles and set them aside.

"You're so beautiful, baby," he murmured with a soft, smallest sigh, almost as if it were escaping from his mouth: "You've always been the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smiled, your chest swelling with pure bliss. "Thank you, daddy," you replied with a small voice.

Then he left a trail of wet kisses toward your belly button, kissing your tummy lovingly before using his hands to angle your thighs open for him.

He placed more kisses around your core, in the soft and sensitive area of your thighs, making you whimper and grab his soft hair with one hand when he ran his tongue flatly on your skin, and again, leaving a tingling sensation on your pussy lips.

A shaky whimper spilled from your lips as he darted a hungry look at your eyes before pressing his tongue flatly on your core, licking a stripe up your folds, savouring you, drinking you in with a satisfied groan.

"Cheollie," you mewled with a sigh, already weak in your legs as your jaw went slack, and your back arched up.

You heard him hum in response, his hands pressed your body down by your lower belly, his thumbs caressing your skin while his tongue gave broad strokes on your pussy lips, placing kisses in between licks, teasing you softly.

"I missed you so fucking bad, daddy, you have no idea," you whimpered, your hand grabbing at his hair and the other clinging to the bed covers.

Seungcheol's mouth was pressed so close to your core that you felt his lips move into a smile. He didn't stop at your words to give you a reply, he continued to eat you out, the tip of his tongue sinking into your core, slurping your sweet juices delightfully.

Lewd whimpers and cries flooded the room. You knew he loved the sounds he got out of you, just as Seungcheol knew what to do to get you crying out in pleasure.

He stopped licking and kissing your cunt and concentrated on your clit, pressing his full lips on your clit before pushing the tip of his tongue on it to then move it side to side, darting the swollen bud with a swift pace.

You cried out loudly, wanting more and more your fingers twisted around his long hair, following the movements that his head started to make, slightly up and down as he continued to suck on your clit.

"I'm close, daddy," you gasped. "Fuck! I'm so close, please, please, daddy," propping yourself on your elbows as your legs began to shake, making one of his hands slide down from your lower belly and force your thighs open for him.

The last thing you saw before your eyes screwed shut was Seungcheol's head buried deep between your thighs, his hands holding you down firmly to his bed as your legs trembled on his sides.

Your head dropped back, crying out loudly as your orgasm washed over your body, the sounds you made left your voice raw until you started panting.

"Oh god—oh my fucking god," you whimpered lewdly as you came all over his mouth. "I missed you so, so much, daddy. Daddy!"

Seungcheol groaned in your cunt, teasing you with his mouth as you came down from your high. But he wasn't stopping. You noticed he moved his mouth from your clit, but he resumed giving broad strokes across your folds, savouring your arousal again.

"Daddy, what are you—oh," you started, but then his hands blindly found yours, lacing your fingers with his and then pulling so that your elbows no longer supported your body.

The back of your head hit the pillows and you heard him let out a low and raw groan. You understood that he wasn't done. Because of course he wasn't.

Seungcheol worked his mouth on your cunt to hear you moaning and whimpering again until he hummed in satisfaction against your folds.

Then the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit a few times before it darted side to side swiftly and continued to do so, knowing that would draw your orgasm out of you again.

"Mmm, 'm gonna cum again, daddy," you mewled, your chest rising and falling heavily as you felt your limbs growing numb. "Daddy, 'm almost there, I'maah-"

The grip you had on his hands tightened as his mouth forced a second orgasm from you, making you moan loudly repeatedly calling out his name until you were completely breathless.

Your limbs went limp just as his hands broke free easily from yours to smooth your legs soothingly. He placed one final kiss on your mound and lied his head on your thigh.

"Tired yet, love?" he asked, pressing the side of his face against your upper thigh, using it as a pillow.

"Mmyeah," you hummed. "I could die right now," you sighed weakly.

He smiled fondly. "I think you mean sleep?"

You nodded and added: "After I make you feel good too."

He raised a hand to stop you from moving. "Shh, let me enjoy this," he muttered lazily, nuzzling the side of your face against your thigh.

"But, I want you to feel good too," you frowned.

He blinked sleepily and shook his head that was still on your thigh. "I'm good, baby."

"Really?"

"Really," he whispered with a small smile, looking elated. "I missed this. I missed you," he smiled lazily.

Seungcheol moved on top of your body to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly before climbing down the bed, where you lied languidly watching him get rid of his shirt in one movement and throw it to the side.

"I'll be back in five, angel," he told you before he walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower a minute later.

When he returned, you weren't aware if five minutes passed precisely. Since you were fast asleep already, only to feel his hands move you beneath the covers, and then his warm body pressed behind yours, his arms wrapped around you.

Seungcheol held you closely throughout the night, until somewhere in the distance you heard an alarm go off. And you were barely aware of the kiss he left on your cheek before pulling away from you and leaving the bed.

Some hours later you woke up in his large bed, naked and alone. You searched for your phone but then you remembered that it was probably back in the living room.

After finding your clothes which were scattered on the floor around the bed you got dressed and went to search for your phone. You wanted to know what the time was, and if you needed to tend to any texts.

But luckily, it was still fairly early in the morning and you didn't have any messages or emails.

So you busied yourself as best as you could. Starting by changing into casual clothes and after perusing what the wifi password was—which Seungcheol had in a note stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you then grabbed your laptop and browsed for a place to move in.

You were sitting on the stool in the kitchen countertop working on finding an affordable place when Seungcheol returned. You being the first thing he laid eyes upon entering his apartment.

"Hi there," you hummed with a smile.

"G'morning. Brought you breakfast," he lifted a bag with his hand and placed it beside your laptop and promptly placed a kiss on your cheek.

You noticed his hair looked messy and sweaty, and you noticed he had gone to the gym, his compression t-shirt hugged the muscles of his chest, and the grey sweatpants that hung on his waist just right.

You gulped.

"Thank you," you smiled at him as you pushed your laptop aside and inspected the box containing the food he grabbed for you.

"Any luck yet?" he nodded to the screen on your laptop, where your search has stopped cold at the sight of food.

He leaned on the countertop beside you to look closer to the screen.

"Nope," you replied shortly, stuffing your mouth with food eagerly.

He shrugged. "You'll find something," he said reassuringly and when he looked at your cheeks full he smiled fondly.

"I'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry," you muttered, trying to cover your mouth as you were still chewing up your food.

"You can stay here as long as you need, you know that," he brushed off with a small frown on his face.

You nodded. "Thank you, Cheol."

His eyes lingered on your for a second before he muttered reluctantly: "And if you don't find anything that suits your needs, you can stay here, indefinitely."

You had to take a second to understand what he was saying. And your heart skipped a beat.

"I appreciate that, Cheol. But I think I need to find a place of my own," you muttered and looked down to your food.

Seungcheol shot a brief glance your way, his expressive eyes had dimmed. Upon realizing that he had touched on a sore subject that had caused arguments between you in the past, he turned away from the counter and walked out of the open kitchen, distancing himself from you.

"I'm taking a shower. And then we leave," he announced awkwardly.

"O-okay," you nodded. "Thank you for bringing me food."

"Don't mention it," he nodded before turning his back to you and walking off to his bedroom.

This shift was not as heavy as you initially had prepared for.

It was thursday, and instead of it being a night in which you had a live band playing, it was ladies night, a new concept that Mingyu proposed when Midnight Haze announced they'd be going on tour opening for another big rock band.

The concept to say the least was... interesting.

"Hey newb, you'll be behind the bar tonight for a bit," Wonwoo instructed and nodded to the guy that was in deep conversation with Seungcheol on one of the booths before opening hours.

"Oh, right, the newer newb is here," Mingyu said. "And who's going to help the new kid?"

"You," Wonwoo stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mingyu's jaw almost dislocated. "Me?" he pointed to his chest. "Why me?"

"Because you've been distracted. I want you to change tasks for tonight," he explained briefly and then looked at you. "You can handle the bar, right?"

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a snort and came out from behind the countertop and got to work, although fuming.

"Yeah, I can," you shrugged.

And also, you had a license. You don't know how Wonwoo even remembered that but you were glad he did. Because you also were in need to take a break from managing the tables.

"Right," Wonwoo clasped his hands together. "Let's get to work, Newb."

You nodded and followed Wonwoo behind the countertop.

The actual newbie's name was Chan. Who was a dark haired guy with an easygoing personality, you learned that he was an aspiring singer, within the first 60 seconds of you talking he mentioned his SoundCloud with great enthusiasm.

But the real reason he was here was because Wonwoo sort of convinced him to work here under the promise of juicy tips. Which, worked to the favor of the new concept of ladies night, something that you'd also learn soon.

The bar was nicely packed around 9PM. And Mingyu's idea seemed to stick, since the tables and barstools were occupied and most of the customers were, in fact, women.

"Holy shit," you said under a breath, watching with keen eye the looks being thrown at the boys tending the table.

And also to you and the man beside you tending the bar, and you felt slightly nervous whenever you caught someone on the countertop looking your way.

"Indeed," Wonwoo responded with a breathy laugh. "I mean, we get this crowd whenever the Haze boys come around, but not like this."

"Looks like the boys are having fun," you pointed with your nose to Mingyu and Chan, who kicked right off with the right foot and worked with a nice synergy.

"Finally," Wonwoo said with a sigh. "Need Mingyu to get out of his own head."

"Breakups are hard," you muttered as you turned to get the new orders from the machine.

Something caught your eye, Seungcheol's blond hair as he flipped it back with one hand as he strolled his tall body in front of the row of booths, inevitably turning the looks of people he passed by.

A sigh escaped your lips. Seungcheol has always had this effect on people. He is alluring, by the way he walked and stood. He commanded himself with a confidence that you have not seen in anyone else you have ever met.

You bit back a smile.

"Hello?" Wonwoo snapped. "Newbie, gimme that," he said with urgency and yanked the order from your hand.

"Sorry," you said, feeling a hot wave wash over your face.

"Seriously?" Wonwoo tutted and shook his head.

"What?" you said as he handed you another order and you got to work.

"At least try not to be obvious," he flashed you a grin and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while the other hand was busy pouring a glass of whiskey and coke.

"God, okay," you widened your eyes in annoyance. "You are snoopy."

"And you are sloppy."

You chuckled. "Maybe. But at least I mind my business."

"Shut up," he hissed with a bright smile.

"Yah! You two," Seungcheol pointed towards you and Wonwoo. "Stop bickering."

Seungcheol had made his way to one side of the countertop, that being the side Wonwoo was mostly in charge of. You nodded with your head and it took you a second to notice that Seungcheol was amused by you.

"Like kids, I swear," he said with a click of his tongue.

"It's all her, boss," Wonwoo pointed teasingly at you. "She has her head over the clouds, god knows why."

"Wonwoo!" you shrieked like a little girl and pushed him by the shoulder.

But he obviously didn't budge. The man towered over you, but he only giggled. "See? She's even blushing, had to clean drool off the counter, you shoulda seen boss."

"Fuckin'stopit, Jeon Wonwoo," you hissed at him.

Seungcheol chuckled goofily, making you stop your feeble pleas to Wonwoo, who also looked somewhat stunned by your boss's reaction.

"Stop it you two, alright," he shook his head once before walking off to the kitchen.

"Huh," Wonwoo huffed. "That went well."

"What?" you gasped. "You just embarrassed me in front of him!"

"And it worked," he shrugged with a sly smile on his face.

"Uh... no it didn't—what worked exactly?" you demanded, your cheeks blazing hot that you had to lower your head a bit so that no one saw your embarrassed expression.

"He got shy."

You stopped and looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure."

It was weird to have the need to conceal both your excitement and nervousness. Sort of working in your favour because Wonwoo was so sure that you were jittery because you were crushing on your boss, according to him.

You didn't want to imagine what expression would take on his features if he ever knew that you weren't crushing on your boss, but your ex.

The shift ended quietly and you silently thanked the gods because you still felt embarrassed by the exchange between you and Wonwoo. And he appeared to be knowing of that, because you were trying to turn a blind eye towards Seungcheol, who for some reason kept strolling around the bar, helping with minor tasks here and there.

Wonwoo sent you some smug looks when Seungcheol went around the countertop and started helping you with the close up.

After everyone had exited the bar, you stood around your car for a bit, pretending to be busy responding to texts as Chan, Wonwoo and Mingyu had left, and the rest of your coworkers did too.

Seungcheol crossed the small parking lot behind the bar as he got his car keys from the pocket of his jacket, unlocking the doors of his jeep.

You hopped in the passenger seat of Seungcheol's jeep, feeling your heart almost thumping out of your throat when your ex sighed a smile.

"So," he threw a hand over the steering wheel. "You were caught drooling over someone."

"Not you too," you scoffed but laughed at his smug expression.

"No wonder Wonwoo is catching onto something, you might be a bit obvious," he smirked and ignited the car, driving away from the parking lot.

"I only looked at you once," you mumbled sheepishly.

"What were you looking at?" he inquired with a soft tone.

"I might have been looking at your butt," you laughed out of embarrassment.

"In front of everyone?" Seungcheol chuckled.

You hid your face behind the palms of your hands with a groan. "I couldn't help it."

A hand slid on your thigh, his fingers softly digging into the fabric of your jeans.

"Baby, you can't do that while working, the boys might actually start questions and what are you going to say?" he teased and you looked at him through your fingers, he was smirking while darting a few looks at you.

"I mean I wasn't the only one looking," you muttered shyly, your voice sounding tiny. "You look really good in those pants."

He laughed in response. "Is that what you told Wonwoo, baby?"

"No," you replied quickly. "I told him to stop snooping."

"I could tell him the truth, if that makes you feel better," he suggested with a small smile as the car came to a red light.

"What?" you squealed, dropping your hands to see his face illuminated by the soft red glow.

He shrugged. "I trust the boys. They would have no issue with you being my ex girlfriend."

Somehow the last word made your chest tighten.

"Bu-but I thought you didn't want them to know," you blurted.

"That would be the sensible thing to do, if I didn't trust them. But they've been here with me since I started this, I really trust they will understand," he muttered while he rubbed two fingertips over his plump lips.

"Um, okay," you mumbled, completely unsure.

"Only if you want to," he quickly put in when he saw your hesitation.

"I don't know," you sighed and bit back a yawn.

Seungcheol continued driving with his large hand firmly parked in your thigh, making your body tingle in anticipation.

"Jeonghan asked me for your number, forgot to tell you," he mentioned in passing, as if wanting to drive the conversation elsewhere.

"Oh? Did you give it to him?"

"Yeah, I did," he nodded with a frown. "Thought you'd want him to have it. Was that okay?"

"Totally!" you smiled, eager to finally reconnect with your former best friend. "Thank you, Cheol."

A smile reached his eyes and he sighed.

"What?" you asked.

Seungcheol parked and turned the engine of his car off. "Nothing," he said, unbuckling the belt. "It's nice to see you happy, that's all."

"It's been so long. I never thought I'd see him again," you said with a sigh. "I honestly thought he'd hate me..."

You dropped your gaze to your hands.

"Hey," he muttered, turning on his seat to face you. "Don't think that, baby. He has no reason to hate you, even if he did, he wouldn't."

You mustered a smile and looked at his big dark eyes, then his lips.

"Let's go," he muttered, noticing your wandering gaze.

"'kay," you sighed and followed him out of the car and onto the building.

In the elevator, Seungcheol had his hands behind his back, leaning back against the wall as he eyed the ceiling.

You watched him carefully, every detail of him. He way he stood, the way his t-shirt clung on his lean pecs and the wide shoulders that stretched the fabric down to his biceps.

One eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

"You're staring again," he muttered without looking at you.

"No, I'm not," you mumbled sheepishly, dropping your gaze.

"Your thoughts are loud, baby," he giggled and you lifted your gaze to find him smirking.

"Tell me what I'm thinking, then," you quipped, returning the smirk.

Your heart fluttered rapidly, sinking with the familiarity of playing around like this with your ex.

Seungcheol pushed himself off the wall with a step forward and stood before you, making your knees wobble.

"I could show you," he said with a confident smirk, the eyebrow twitched slightly again.

The doors of the elevator opened, the small bump when the elevator arrived to the second to last floor left you feeling somewhat dazed. Or perhaps was the man standing in front of you, with a smirk plastered on his face when he knew the effect he had on you.

He walked into the long marbled floor hall and you followed him, noticing a slight urgency on his movements when he opened the door for you.

As soon as he closed the door, his hands slid on your waist from behind, stopping you in your tracks and pulled you closer to his body. You gasped slightly, your hands immediately flying to cover his with a jerk.

"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind, love?" he asked with a low tone, his nose bumping with your ear.

You turned to see him, his eyes had darkened, and was now wearing an expression that you knew too well.

When he saw you falter, he slowly turned you on your feet, his hands firmly parked on your waist. "I know that we still have a pending conversation but," he paused, searching your face. "I really need you right now, baby."

A shiver of pure delight ran throughout your body, earning a soft sigh from you.

"Then take me, Cheollie," you breathed, pressing your body against his.

He drove you against the wall, effectively pinning you with his large frame and not a second later he locked your lips with his own, groaning in your mouth with a sigh.

The hands on your waist slowly slid down your ass, grabbing it momentarily before crouching slightly before you and you understood what he wanted and jumped in his arms.

"Good girl," he muttered gruffly, moving his hands firmly on your ass as he carried you in his capable arms to his bedroom.

Seungcheol threw your body on the large comfy covers of the bed, muffling your fall perfectly. You let out a small blissful squeal and focused your eyes on him, feeling so needy already that you might've combust.

Seungcheol stood before you, his darkened eyes roaming all over your fully clothed body impatiently.

"Do you still like it rough, baby?" he asked as he pressed one knee on the bed and crawled on top of you.

"You know I do, daddy," you replied with a honeyed tone.

Seungcheol lowered his elbows, framing your head and pressed his body on top of yours. "Did the guys you fucked treated you the same way I do?"

Your breath hitched and something clicked in your brain instantly. Your eyes read his face frantically, he seemed calm, controlled, just like he always did when he dommed you.

"O-of course not," you whispered, quivering under his darkened gaze. "No one fucks me like you do."

Did he really want to know? He might have assumed that you had other partners when you went away, right? Did he had other partners? Oh fuck, you did not even want to entertain that thought, your heart sank at the mere prospect.

Seungcheol probably did, though. Assuming that he already thinks the same of you.

He smiled playfully, like a cat toying with his food he dipped his head to graze his lips against yours slowly. "Did you think of us when you fucked other people, baby?"

His lips moved to kiss your cheek and you quivered when his hands slid under your shirt, feeling your waist.

Did he think of you? You thought to ask.

"No," you replied sincerely. "But I would when they'd leave and I had to finish alone."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "That bad I ruined you, baby?"

"That bad," you nodded. "I tried to convince myself it was good. But it just wasn't the same."

His lips pressed on the shell of your ear before saying: "Of course it wasn't, angel. No one knows you like I do."

You let out a shaky moan when he nipped your earlobe. "No one," you echoed. "Not even close."

You felt him smile on the spot below your ear. "And no one else will, baby."

You let out a pathetic whimper, not even daring to process what his words really implied. "No one," you parroted entrancedly.

Seungcheol groaned softly in your ear and pressed more kisses down the crook of your neck, earning more sweet sounds from your lips, you squirming under him, one hand had made its way on the hard muscles of his back, while the other cupped the back of his head.

"I need you naked, now," he muttered quietly and pulled his body back, kneeling on the bed before you.

Somehow your body silently started synergizing with his, you sat up in the bed just as his hands took the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head with one move and tossing it to the floor. And then you lied back again when his fingers hooked on your jeans after yanking the button and zipper undone.

Lifting your hips for him to yank your jeans down your legs so hard that you heard some seams rip.

He let out a huff with a smirk. "These fucking jeans," he muttered through his teeth. "Can't fucking get you out of my head on a regular basis and then you wear these jeans... fuck baby, it's like you know."

He climbed back on top of you, placing his forearms on each side of your head to kiss you chastely once.

"It's like you know what you do to me," he muttered gruffly. "But you do, you know me better than anyone too."

Your heart lurched at his words, but couldn't help but show him a small smile. "Yeah, I do," you said confidently.

Seungcheol returned the smile. "Yeah, baby?" he whispered on your lips, trapping your lower lip to pull at it softly. "Can you still take me like before?"

Your whole body burned at his question and you nodded with your head slowly. "Ye-yeah I can," you faltered for a second. "I can take it."

"That's my baby," he whispered and swiped a line on your lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Arch your back for me. I need to see you," he slid a hand beneath you to unclasp your bra and uncovered your breasts for him.

Seungcheol instantly palmed your breasts teasingly rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, making you squirm when he leaned down to wrap his mouth around one of them, sucking lightly and nipping at it with his teeth.

"Fucking perfect," he grunted. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I swear."

"Daddy," you mewled and grabbed a handful of his soft hair when he decided to pay attention to your other nipple, sucking at it, playing with it and tugging it with his mouth.

"I'm here, love," he replied, darting a look at you. "Daddy's gonna treat you right. Fuck you like you deserve."

You nodded eagerly. "P-please, I need it."

Seungcheol sighed with a smile at your plea, his fingers hooked on the band of your panties, pulling them off to watch the string of arousal that stretched as the fabric separated from your wet core, broke and fell on the covers.

"So fucking wet already," he clicked his tongue.

"All for you, daddy," you sighed, feeling a blush creeping on your cheeks.

"All for me," he echoed, hovering over your body to press a hungry kiss on your lips.

Your hands slid under the white t-shirt to drag it up his body, feeling his muscles tighten and he sighed shakily under your touch, standing upright for you to continue undressing him.

You marvelled at his half-naked body for a second, your hands caressed his shoulders and slid down his chiselled chest and stopped at the belt of his pants.

"You've gotten bulkier," you whispered, darting a look at his eyes.

"Do you like it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

"Yeah, I do. A lot," you muttered, mustering a smile.

He pinched your chin gently but said nothing more.

"I need you to get up," you mumbled nervously before undoing the button of his pants.

This felt different than the night he fucked in his office. You felt nervous under the pressure of your decision, that and the fact that Seungcheol wanted to have his way with you like before, but that caused another kind of nervousness.

Seungcheol got up from the bed and you followed him, getting him out of his jeans to then bit back a sigh when you saw the huge bulge he store beneath his briefs. You ran a palm over his clothed cock, noticing a small patch of his briefs wet with precum.

A shudder in excitement invaded you when you pushed his briefs down. His cock sprung free and you let out a strangled sigh in pure bliss.

You pushed him with your hands at his sides, earning a soft chuckle from him when he understood what you intended to do. Sitting him down on the edge of his bed and kneeling on the floor between his splayed thighs.

You caressed his supple thighs with a shudder that shook you to your core, almost whimpering pathetically at the sight of him. Naked, hard, leaking and needy.

Seungcheol cupped the side of your face with one hand and your eyes fluttered shut under his warm touch. "Is this what you had in mind, angel?"

"Yeah," you breathed lewdly with a nod to your head. "Can I suck you off, daddy?"

"Fuck, yes," he sighed, the corner of his mouth stretching in a grin as his hand brushed your hair back gently.

You made sure to look in his eyes right before grabbing his girthy cock with your hand, you wanted to see his features dissolve into pleasure as you took him in your mouth. Starting with a broad stroke with your tongue from the base of his cock to its head, tasting the salty precum in his slit and his mouth parted a little, releasing a low guttural moan.

"You don't know how much I missed your mouth, baby," he mumbled faintly.

You pushed your mouth down his cock and hummed around it, swirling your tongue around his pink tip every time you pulled your mouth back.

Seungcheol hissed and his hands started gathering your hair in one tight fist as your mouth started to feel more comfortable on his cock and felt bold enough to take him further, so that his cockhead pushed up your throat.

Your hand stroked what you could not take in your mouth fully, while the other caressed his thigh, making him shudder and swallow a moan in his throat.

"God, baby that feels so good," you sneaked a look towards the man completely trapped under your spell.

You hummed again, making wet sounds with your mouth on is cock loudly to make him shudder. He had his half-lidded eyes trained on you, one hand gathering your hair and the other gripping the covers tightly.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," he whispered. "You're taking me so well," he kept his praise with a low raspy tone.

At that, you picked up the pace, your drool coated hand moving faster on the base of his throbbing cock while you worked your mouth around its head, earning more sweet praises and moans from him.

The overwhelming need to worship his body invaded you. It made your cunt throb and moan around his cock, making slurping sounds as you sucked his big cock and took him further in your mouth.

You gagged a little bit when you tried to push his cock in your throat, and his hand tightened around your hair. "Stop," he instructed.

You pushed your head back and got him out of your mouth, breathing through your nose deeply.

Seungcheol leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, his hand still on your hair. "I want you on all fours," he mumbled in your mouth, but his command was firm.

You complied almost immediately, crawling on all fours to the middle of the large bed. You propped your elbows on the pillows and looked over your shoulder to see him.

Seungcheol pressed one knee on the edge of the mattress, the soft covers dipping around him as he climbed his wholly naked body on the bed. Then you noticed that the curtains of the large windows were drawn still, creating a backdrop behind his frame of the city lights in the middle of the night.

It was not only the sight of his beautiful body that caught your sight. Nor the way that the lights seemed to shimmer behind him. His eyelids were lowered as he looked at your body, you saw his heavy lashes, his full lips.

He leaned his head to one side as one of his hands caressed your skin from the small of your back, down to one of your glutes.

Your tummy fluttered nervously.

"Do you remember our safeword, love?" he asked, pausing for a second.

How could you not remember? You nodded and told him the safeword you established for each other years ago.

Looking at him over your shoulder still, you saw him take one hand to the space between your bodies. A smile appeared on his face when you arched your back for him in anticipation. Then you felt him run the tip of his cock between your pussy lips once, teasing you briefly before easing himself inside you in one go.

But he wasted no time, starting to push his hips against you, giving you no testing or shallow thrusts. His pace was hard and fast, nearly brutal. It had you mewling against the bedcovers instantly, your fingers curling on the pillows for support.

"That's my girl," he gasped each word between his brutal thrusts. "Stretching so nicely for daddy's cock."

You hummed in affirmation and closed your eyes, savouring every inch of his big cock dragging out of your gummy walls and then sinking back in.

"Daddy," you sighed a moan. "Please."

You were not sure why you were begging, or what for. But when Seungcheol picked up the pace a little, slamming his hips against you so hard that your body started to bounce on his bed, you forgot what you wanted to say.

"Fuck, daddy, just like that please," you gasped lewdly, when his cock reached a glorious spot deep inside you, making your mind go blank.

You heard him groan gutturally and looked at him over your shoulder. Seungcheol had thrown his head back a little, his tongue was trapped between his teeth. The hand parked on the small of your back had travelled far up your back a little, while the other held you in place.

"God," he sighed. "You're taking me so well, baby."

"Mm-mmph," you mewled, closing your eyes to lose yourself in the blissful pleasure you got from him hitting that spot with his cock repeatedly.

Seungcheol was practically growling, his raw moans spilling from his lips in a frantic manner as his hips slammed into your ass, making you gasp and moan with every thrust.

"F-fuck, I'm almost there, daddy," you sighed and gulped hard, tasting your sweet release.

His hands gripped you so hard on your hips as he quite literally pummelled you that you knew you'd have bruises on your hips and ass the following day. But he didn't stop, and you internally thanked him.

"You want to come, baby?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"Yes please, daddy. I'm so close," you whimpered your eyes brimmed with tears. "Feels so good, so fucking good—"

Hearing you being so needy for your release made him let out a deep groan in pleasure. But he continued with his brutal thrusts on you, his hands firmly grabbing your hips, his fingers digging in your skin so deep you knew you'd have marks in the following morning.

"Come for me baby," he gasped. "Come on daddy's cock," he said in a low guttural tone.

All you could feel was his cock plunging in your clenching walls as your orgasm hit you so hard and good that your ears rung, drowning out your own cries of pleasure.

Then a hand circled your neck, and effortlessly pulled you up so what his hard chest was pressed to your back. Seungcheol's fingers didn't press that hard, but with enough strength to make you gulp abruptly and grab his wrist.

"I love the sounds you make for me," he growled. "You're so fucking good for me."

You whimpered at the sound of his voice so close to your ear, his cock still pumping hard inside you so hard that you could feel your whole body bouncing against his.

"I'm gonna stuff this pretty cunt with my cum. You want that, love?" he asked, gasping softly at your ear.

"Yes, please!" you replied with a whimper, your hand clenching the wrist up your neck. "Fill me up, please. Please, daddy."

A groan left his mouth, sounding so low and guttural that it vibrated on his chest so hard you felt it on your body. His hips slammed against you, his hand tightening in your neck as he came inside you, gasping softly on your shoulder.

Slowly his hand released your neck, his strong muscly arms encircled and pressed your body against him. He held you close to his chest, as he breathed heavily on your neck in a mixture of exhaustion and bliss.

"You're always so good for me," he muttered lazily as he showered you with loving kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You snuggled closer to his warmth, angling your head for more of his kisses and you felt him smile on your cheek.

"Can we cuddle?" you asked when his lips reached your own.

He paused, reading your eyes before nodding with his head. "Whatever you want, baby."

You slowly lied face down on his bed and Seungcheol followed, slumping his naked body beside you.

Then his big arms were wrapped around you, efficiently pulling you on top of his body. You pressed your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft hum he released.

Two fingers gingerly took your chin, commanding you to look at him.

"Okay?" he breathed.

You nodded and pressed your lips into a smile. "Okay."

The corner of his mouth stretched slightly in the faintest of smiled. "C'mere," he whispered, reading your eyes before leaning in for a warm, tender kiss.

"Cheol," you breathed in his lips.

"You don't know how much I missed you, baby," he quickly cut in, almost as if he did not want to let the moment be swept away. "So much."

"I missed you too," you echoed with shaky voice. "So, so much."

"Only in my most insane moments I dared to imagine you here with me again," you felt him smile on your lips. "But here you are."

Your heart broke a little, making you close your eyes before you could control yourself. "I'm here, Cheol."

The tip of his nose nudged yours gently before he pressed a soft kiss on your lips. "Don't leave again."

You choked back a sob in his mouth, unable to utter a word.

"Please," he whispered.

"I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea," you told him sincerely. "I'm a different person now, Cheol. Not the girl you once loved."

It was true. You were far from the girl that Seungcheol loved. Time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell did with you.

But he smiled, an endearing glint in his eyes. "I know you've changed, baby," he muttered. "I've changed too. We can get to know each other again."

The idea sounded good. After all Seungcheol was you first love. Your first everything: first (real) kiss, first boyfriend, first sexual partner, first heartbreak. So the prospect of getting to know him all over again after years was exciting.

Something to look forward to.

"I don't think we can go back to what he had," Seungcheol said softly. "And honestly, I don't want to. I want to start over."

"Can we? We can't just turn a blind eye to what we've done for the past few days," you pointed to your naked bodies, alluding to having sex multiple times already.

"Remember when we started dating?" he asked while his fingers brushed your hair from your face. "We moved so fast, we were already having sex within the first month of knowing each other."

You laughed, your cheeks bundled up and forced some tears from your eyes. "I know, I remember. But that's not what I'm saying, Cheol," you playfully pushed his shoulder. "How would this work? You being my boss, and my ex–"

"You're overthinking it," he shook his head once. "We'll take it step by step. I know it's tricky, and it's going to take a lot to figure it out. But I know that I'm ready now."

He was right: you were overthinking everything.

Nothing could ever get you back to what you used to have with Seungcheol. There was no going back to the person you were when you were madly in love with him. Even if you still loved him now, there was a lot you had to rebuild.

His thumb gently brushed away a lonely tear that rolled down your cheek. "What do you say, love?" he whispered so softly that it was barely audible. "Can we start again?"

Seungcheol paused, looking hesitant, but in the brief silence that followed, you understood that no matter what your answer was, one thing was still very evident: you still loved him.

As you nodded with your head, he pulled you into a tender kiss. It was too soft, slow and warm and wet. You melted into the kiss, your whole body shuddered under his touch, making you stifled a sob in his lips.

"Thank you, baby," he whispered in between kisses. "I won't let you down again, I promise—I promise."

✧ a/n: heyyyyoooo (´◡`)

if this has mistakes or continuity errors, please forgive me, i only picked up this draft after i abandoned it since october

thank you for waiting for this part! i really appreciate everyone who engaged with part i and waited for this one. it took me really long to post this because i wasn't feeling it, idk 🥺 pls forgive me

i'll try to update soon!!

if you liked reading this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a comment, reblog, like or an ask! my ask box is always open and i love to know your thoughts on anything pls i'm lonely 🥺

so if any of you guys have read my other fics, you may or may not have noticed that all my fics are connected in one single universe hehe. i might make a masterpost soon. so stay tuned for that and,

✧ PART 3 !!✧

anywhoos, i love you all ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

toodles

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godihatethiswebsite · 4 days ago

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Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part Five - On Trial

Apologies for the delay as there were a few speed bumps that my foggy brain just did not want to hump over. This chapter gave me some grief, but I'm still happy with how it turned out :)

Trigger Warnings: religious imagery, ptsd, angst, brief mentions of rape/incest/assault/drugging/coercion/miscarriage

Flat deadened eyes bore chasms through your own.

They peeled away the impregnable shroud of shame masking the abhorrent malefactions of those you’ve wronged.

In a split second of time, those eyes foisted judgment upon all your heinous sins with an executioner’s toll. Damning you to an endless oblivion amongst the cacophony of wailing souls eternally condemned to the River Styx.

Behold! The face of your adjudicator!

Blackened barbed wire constricts the fat of his gluttonous form. Exposed sickly ashen skin held together by threaded catgut, bursting at the seams with bone-white mold. Hellfire caged in little glass vials illuminates the agonized expression glued to a visage of perpetual torment, standing against a backdrop of towering decayed limbs, basking in the multitude of jewel toned offerings left by those who worship at the base of this miserable creature’s sacrificial altar.

…Of all the cheerful residents from the Hundred Acre Wood, who on god’s green earth decided that Eeyore of all things would be the poster boy for Christmas?

The melancholically predisposed cartoon character was a mess of tangled Christmas lights, having apparently failed in his endeavor to liven up the wilted excuse of a barren evergreen behind him and somehow succeeding in trapping his own pudgy form in the decorations instead – the ‘D’ in December knocked crooked in his fruitless struggles.

A paltry souvenir magnet from someplace sunny holds the calendar aloft, Winnie the Pooh designs posted on the side of your fridge with thick glossy sheets. A gift from your fathers; a new one included in their holiday care package every year.

You’re sure the overstuffed box currently shoved beneath your kitchen table for lack of anywhere more reasonable to house it has its plastic-wrapped replacement buried amongst the other contents. Previous years involved such colorful settings as early 2000’s internet memes or a compilation of fun facts regarding the world’s different varieties of cheeses. Not for your own enjoyment, of course, but for the chagrined expression your family insisted on basking in come Christmas morn.

Not that you admitted to liking this past year's theme of childhood whimsey…

The curlicue numbers on the wintery grid mark the passage of time – crossed out with dry streaks of red ink. Christmas is naught but five days from now, the emphasized date stamped in the upper righthand corner with a glittery ribbon as if the holiday needed even more call for attention. It means almost nothing to you outside of a familial facetime over a microwaved breakfast of cheap eggo waffles.

You’ll suffer congenially through the good natured poking and prodding. Chloe will send a text; Alex won’t. And the day will pass by in a whisper of silence – the magic of miracles stored back in their damp corporate box for cheapened rehashing the following year.

Holing away in the confines of your solitary habitat came with the added benefit of only exposing yourself to the overhyped celebration on a reasonable once-weekly basis, driving to and fro your therapist's office; painfully ignoring the garish spectacle of such yuletide enrichment as fuzzy wonky reindeer antlers wedged atop sticker splattered minivans, off-key fourth graders caterwauling carols in the backseat, tinsel and fiberglass grating on your teeth.

At least, your antisocialness normally would save you from such headaches.

When the pharmacy didn’t bungle communications with your primary care physician and refill your prescription two weeks early.

The voicemail left on your phone this morning was a little more than a minor annoyance. You’d only just finished chasing the taste of bile with citrusy mouthwash, leaning your leaded weight against the cold marble of the sink, stomach still spasming with painful braxton hicks-like contractions. Shaky hands splashed tepid water on your face, wicking away the evidence of exertion and clearing your chin of digested chicken noodle.

You’d only half paid attention to the robotic voice droning over speakerphone, wiping off your face with a disgruntled glare at your reflection and muffling a groan into the pilled fabric of your hand towel at the automated message. This was not a day to be playing at adulthood. This was a day for warm chunky socks and Disney movie marathons.

And now because some overworked new hire chugging Red Bulls probably keyed in the wrong refill date in an over-caffeinated zeal, you were once again paying for someone else's mistake.

(A running theme for your life.)

You shook off the bitter thought with a weary sigh, hanging the damp towel from the plastic command hook on peeling wallpaper. The buzzing of the keypad rattled the counter as you’d cleared out your phone’s voicemail, scooping up the device and trudging back around the corner to begin what should’ve originally been an easy day.

Now, a few hours of lounging had garnered you enough gumption to voyage out amongst proper society once more, rinsing your chubby dinosaur mug from earlier in the sink as your eyes flick up unwittingly to the calendar nearby.

You know what you’re counting even as you abash yourself for it.

The crumpled bag of mostly full coffee grounds has been sitting in your bin for the past two days, put there in an abstract protest to the blatant disregard of your feelings by a caustic alpha. The taste on your tongue has become as phantom as the scent that once clung to your coat rack, wafted away by a bottle of descenting spray the same way you wish to purge his lingering effervescence from where it's taken root in your spine.

The offending bag collects dust at the top of the pile, placed there in a huff at the start of every morning. When its existence mocks your suffering and the grief of a life you’ll never get to live is at the forefront of every painful heave into grimy porcelain, forced onto your knees like the flaccid servient creature that beast has morphed you into.

Still, there’s no sign of refuse or food waste on the flimsy outside packaging. It never stays put long enough to accumulate filth or bury itself in neglected disuse. At the end of the night, when the wounds of before are wrapped in a somnolent layer of protective padding, it returns to its spot amongst the clutter of your countertop, a pitiful idol to the foolish part he’s allowed to fester against your better judgment.

God, you’ve tried so hard to ignore it – you really have. With what little there is to occupy your mind in this lackluster environment, the labor of staying detached is proving arduous. John’s memory agitating the stripped-bare axis of simple order your world rotates upon.

Distraction eludes you at every attempt to forget. The warmth of your nest is the comfort of his leather embrace, the Zofran on your tongue the calloused paw at your nape grounding you in tempered reality. Soft boar hair bristles are his fingers, the zest in your meal his vigor. His face is in the deep prussian sweater jailed to the back of your closet for the sole crime of coming too close to the cerulean shade that haunts your waking memory.

You thought you already knew what it meant to belong to another. To be branded with someone else’s signet like a bored kid in history class taking chunks out of his desk until it was too desecrated with graffiti to be regarded as anything other than his unofficial property. No one wanted to touch what the school bully had already sullied.

Until John.

It didn’t matter that the seat was already occupied. He just scratched out the nameplate with safety scissors and staked his claim with a wad of gum beneath the chair.

He was dark matter wedging its way to take up space between condensed molecules, bullying the other elements into submission until his chemical makeup twisted you to something there was no coming back from. Sweeping in with the strength of a category five and the persistence of the big bad wolf.

You despise John for the damage he’s incurred to your house made of straw – all of them really – but you detest yourself even more for the gnawing disappointment flooding your gut that he hasn’t shaken the foundations further.

The hiss of pain between your teeth as you adjust the abrasive scarf around your neck serves as a sobering reminder of the real cancer infecting your cells. Even if the claim was buried under layers, it didn’t mean your flesh didn’t still carry the scars from its etching.

Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you take to the task of unlocking each of the bolts guarding you from the true terrors of an alpha’s altruistic attention.

Please just let this be quick.

The sneer from the old crone in aisle two has you ducking the latter half of your face in the itchy fabric that hides the one thing you’re currently being judged for.

You don’t know her name, but you’ve seen her outside the steps of your apartment enough with her hellspawn of a pomeranian to know she lives in your building. The grey curls of her poodle cut perm do nothing to hide the splotches of alopecia that come with age. Tissue paper skin dappled with sun spots begs for the youth of collagen, gaunt around her cheekbones and only highlighting her witchy exterior, a moth eaten shawl hanging loosely over the quasimodo hump keeping her from standing at a height taller than that of a twelve year old child.

The grouchy bat is clever, though, you’ll give her that. There’s a discerning eye behind those tortoiseshell frames that speak of a bygone prime filled with intrigue and gossip that’s followed her well into her twilight years.

She’s honed her intellect well.

And she knows.

Your skin crawls with maggots under her heated glare, boring subdermal tunnels that reach beyond the capabilities of a simple itch. The writhing anomalies only add to the growing discomfort of waiting in the pharmacy queue for far longer than need be. Ten minutes you’ve been behind the same middle aged man – too diffident to interrupt the conversation going on ahead of you – as what should’ve been a simple snatch and grab of his blood pressure medication turns into three decades of catching up with a bygone acquaintance from primary school.

“–when Janine drank some weird concoction back at Jimmy’s place. Fucking health nut has his own carbonator in his kitchen and she got the bright idea on six shots of cuervo to run a glass of milk through the damn thing. Ended up spewing all over Crystal’s pants.”

To their credit, the pharmacist had at least been working on filling prescriptions as he prattled on with the bald spot beta in front of you, bustling between stocked aisles of jarred substances and counting out little white tablets with every ping from the database. He just didn’t seem to care about the goings on inside the store. “Adam mentioned that when I ran into him at the football match last June. Isn’t that O’Hara’s omega? The one who used to save her gum in a giant ball after she was done chewing it?”

Eww. Seriously?

“Nah, that’s Abigail. Crystal was Billy and Carter’s girl.”

That seemed to catch the other alpha in his tracks, a quizzical brow replacing one of mild interest as he paused his fingers over the keyboard. “Was? What happened to her?”

“Fucking up and left them, that’s what. And right after they supported her through that unfortunate miscarriage too. Came home one day to an empty nest and a note on the table telling them she was done. Poor guys never even saw it coming.”

“Wow. Who would’ve thought she’d turn out to be one of them?”

“Yea,” the beta’s tone turned sour. “Unfaithful bitch.”

The Unfaithful.

That’s what they call you now.

Those who have forsaken their oaths and disgraced the name ‘omega’. The sanctity of packdom desecrated by egocentric bond breakers. Scheming harlots abandoning their worshipful protectors– denying them their designated rights and withholding the gift of eternal peace upon those alphas worthy enough to be chosen.

False omegas. Government apostates to how things are supposed to be run.

Doesn’t matter that those who claim to be victims before the courts are the same conniving bastards stripping us of our bodily autonomy. Nothing is impermissible.

Rape. Incest. Assault. Drugging. Coercion. Words that carry weight become cotton candy deadlifts in the face of a mating bond. It has no undoing – no magic words or medical procedures. There is no running towards the arms of a better pack in hopes of a brighter future; no room for another in the tether of your soul. That anchor has taken root in the rock bed and cannot be claimed outside the mysticism of a scent match.

Crueler parts of the world would hunt you down like the runaway slave they’re too cowardice to admit they perceive you as, a bounty placed upon your head and welts on your back for disobeying, brittle nails clawing at the dirt in a last attempt at freedom, dragged back to your master in an iron wrought collar displaying the shame of your sins.

Suppose you should consider yourself lucky that here, amongst the dredges of refined society, your kind are merely shunned.

Bosom friends all turn their backs, work desks empty into a cardboard box under the guise of ‘performance issues’. The deli at the corner claims they’re closed, red blocky letters drawing blood by the gallons as the patrons inside regard you like you’re nothing more than a sopping wet stray begging for scraps in the rain.

There are no laws that protect from discrimination for people like you. The lease in your fathers’ names and the lie from their lips are the only things sheltering you from homelessness. Others are not so fortunate as to have the word of an alpha keeping them off the street.

The forlorn promise of a better tomorrow is all that greets you now in the wake of devastation. There is no higher contract than the bite marks on your neck.

The scathing look from the disgruntled woman would be warranted by those around you if they were privy to the same suspicions she carried. The signs were all there if they only knew where to look.

“Miss?”

You hardly notice when they end their interaction, the off-putting customer service smile from the alpha behind the counter making the pit of your stomach rumble with unease as you scurry to the front, quietly offering up your personal information as you place your ID on the counter.

If he only knew he had the power to blacklist you in his hands…

You fork over the cash in far shorter time than the previous customer did, spending less than two minutes to his twenty before you duck away from the substantial line that’s formed in the time since your subsequent arrival.

It’s your luck the old hag is three guests behind you, averting your gaze to the task of stashing your meds to try and keep from further interaction. Too bad a half century’s worth of smoking comes out in the rasping slur she spits at you from underneath her breath.

“Fucking glitch.”

You’ve heard the words directed at you once before, only far more cutting and uttered from a far different mouth. That didn’t stop the insult from piercing through to bone, a deep ache in your ribs that slows your gait and gives you pause beside the basket drop-off.

A quick glance around confirms a lack of disdain from your fellow shoppers. You’re surprisingly fortunate that her biting remark hadn’t been made any louder. You frequent this shop often enough to be recognizable to most of the staff – though not on any sort of conversational terms. Being blacklisted here wouldn’t just result in an inconvenient trek farther for medical service, but a mark that would deny usage no matter the location.

Every step out your front door is a chance for your past to catch up to you… in one form or another.

A shock of cold jolts you from your far-away stare, startling a yelp that draws brief attention as you jump back from the unwanted contact, hand retreating away at the abrupt offense. Cradling it to your chest, you’re met with cobalt eyes and sunshine hair, a bright eyed pupper beaming up at you from its spot perched at your feet.

“Sorry about him!” An apologetic voice squawks to the left of you, calling your attention to the hobbling beta woman at the other end of the leash. Her neon green marshmallow puffer greets you before her dark curls and round cheeks, a prosthetic hand keeping grip on her furry friend. “He’s a well behaved boy I promise! Ain’t gonna bite ya or anything.”

“Oh no, he’s fine!” The tremble in your words is more from social awkwardness than anything, having been caught off guard in a place far too crowded for your tastes, rolling your shoulders to halt the impulse to scratch. “Just wasn’t expecting a wet dog nose is all.”

The beta, on the other hand, has no problem running a knitted mitten over the back of her neck. “Yeaaaah, it’s not often he gets away from me like that. You see, he’s my service animal.” She calls attention to the black vest around his body, a litany of bright colored patches and big blocky words adorning the functioning harness that you hadn’t quite discerned upon first glance. “He uh… was just alerting to you.”

It takes you a moment to process the words, blinking down at the panting canine regarding you with eyes more keen than the pea-brained expression would suggest.

Good to know even a dog can sense you’re nine different levels of fucked up.

“You can pet him if you want,” comes the gentle offer upon spying the embarrassment painting your features, taking her faithful companion’s inattention in stride. The quirk of her mouth gives you a green light even if her words already did. “Far be it for me to disagree with the boss here when he puts his mind to something.”

The words of declination rest limp on your tongue, a moment’s hesitation giving way beneath the understanding gaze of an impartial animal whose sole purpose is to provide the comfort of love. Crouching down to its level – uncaring of the salt trekked state of the tile – it's almost instinctual to wrap your arms around the retriever for an act that seems so much more dangerous coming from any other being. The muzzle that finds home in the junction of your shoulder roots you through the floor, going beyond solid concrete foundation and miles of serpentine pipeways, winding through terraceous cracks unyielding to the progress of man to find purchase in the damp soil unseen for thousands of years, unbowing to the anything but the turn of the earth.

Calm is not the word; the pounding pulse in your ears and the headrush of being out in public still ring through the chittering bustle of checkout lanes to keep you on your toes. Yet the ache in your soul feels less like a boulder and more like a handful of a pebbled shore.

Pulling away from the smell of damp fur, slobber greets your face in the form of affection, features pulling taut against the playful onslaught trying its best to intrude between the cracks of your mouth.

“Easy does it, bud.” A soft yank on his harness serves as a gentle reminder, turning from loveable pup to esteemed gentleman panting in perfect submission. “No one wants to taste what you had for lunch earlier today.”

You flash her a grateful smile for the interference, fingers moving next to scritch around the bright red collar mostly hidden by dense hairs, a glinting dog bone with cursive scrawl clacking against the knuckles of your hand. “Rocky, huh?”

“Yea,” she chuckles. “Don’t judge, but he was actually my favorite power ranger as a kid.” Her mittened hand joins yours in the thick pelt of his neck, scratching at some secret spot that gets his tail thumping, the appendage a whirling propeller trying in vain to achieve liftoff. How long they must’ve been in each other’s company for such familiarity. “Figured since this little guy was gonna be my hero too, he deserved a name befitting the courage he inspires.”

Her sincerity sparks something in you as you reach back to your own childhood, the sizzling of pancakes on the griddle against a backdrop of Saturday morning shows. Your smile warms at the memory. “Hey, no judgment here. After all, mine was Tommy.”

The moment breaks with shattered glass somewhere off to the right, the both of you reacting with varying degrees of frazzled nerves. You don’t miss the way her hand strikes out with practiced swiftness towards her hip, something nonexistent bumped away from flexing fingers by a patience nudge. Wide eyes glance down at her stalwart companion, already staring back with all the surety of his namesake, pushing her palm further against the smoothness of his head, urging her to stay with him in the safety of the moment. You don’t know the ghosts that haunt her–doing your best to avert your gaze from the glimpse of carbon fiber–but you watch as they retreat with calming breaths back to the place where they were born.

She shoots you a look you know she rather wouldn’t, an unspoken apology wrapped in embarrassment as familiar to you as it is to her, understanding passing between mirrored irises. There’s a shuffling of feet as you both scurry on your respective ways, you towards the outside air while her path takes her further inward. A quick glance over your shoulder finds him pressed against her side, snout turned upwards with a lolling tongue and dopey smile, eyes on the caregiver staring back at him with fond devotion. To have something that loves you that much…

Your gaze softens along with your words. “Good boy, Rocky…”

Fire ants bite into your cheek as the sharp crack that accompanies them leaves an outline of lava, the slap mark on your face glowing red hot and searing with the weight behind their assault. It dulls as the molten rock cools, a beating heart on the surface kept in time with the now racing pulse in your neck. The shock of it is almost as painful as the protruding iron shelves getting knocked against your spine, blowback jostling the festive display contents some poor stocker worked so hard on as cardboard cubes of kleenex clatter like ornaments to the muck-stained floor.

The outcry from your lips is muffled in comparison to groaning metal shifting under your weight, hand instinctively flying up as a wall to protect from further onslaught. Heat blooms again even under your careful touch, hissing in a gasp as wide eyes filled with glistening saline catch up a moment before your nostrils take in a familiar decadence.

Her omega scent of rich warm brownie, fresh out the oven – but swallowed from the edges by the beginnings of char. Too high a temp getting cooked for too long, potent in its fury as it cracks and concaves. A sickeningly sweet outer shell transmuting under pressure, turning perfect gooey fudge into bubbling tar.

The visage that greets you is tempered by dread; a mixture of refined beauty and smoldering hate.

White fluffy earmuffs contrast against long chocolate waves spilling like molasses over a matching pristine peacoat – as if not even fate itself dared to sully such purity. If the air of refinement somehow doesn’t outclass you than the designer handbag does. No pack could ask for a more exemplary omega.

You’ve seen those cheekbones on the cover of magazines, that glassy skin splashed clean in luxury skincare ads. Perfect porcelain as artistically rendered as fine chinaware. Every model you’ve ever envied taken shape as your worst nightmare. Dark bambi eyes red-ringed with acidic tears, button nose flaring with each heaving rise of her trembling shoulders. Full pouty lips quiver under the enormous weight of emotions that threaten to claw almond manicured nails through your skin like chainsaws.

There is anger, but there is also pain.

And you caused it.

You do not know which response consumes you more: panic, or shame.

“You–” her voice breaks like her heart, delicate wind chimes in a spring downpour. “You s-stay away from them…” Her words come in a struggle, fighting for stability whilst she hangs onto her composure with a thread as thin as spider silk. “They’re not yours… so… so just– just leave us alone!”

Gone is the lighthearted vision spun in innocent etherealness from that day in the store. Sparkling doe eyes now filled with scorn don’t suit the unblemished being not a foot in front of you. There’s an ingrained sweetness in her now pitiful form that so easily calls to an alpha’s protectiveness, a creature that deserves to be cherished, adorned; royalty reincarnated to a modern day princess.

There are only traces of that now standing a few feet in front of the automatic sliding doors, a smashed box of tissues keeping the mechanism from closing and sending a chill over the entire conversation.

You shrink in on yourself, lowering your gaze in a meek show of submission that speaks where your own voice fails. How could you continue to look her in the eye when you are the reason this woman is suffering? When you are the bad guy in every sense of the word?

Filth. Sullied. Poison. Suffocating her with your very presence as if your own tainted pheromones could overcast hers.

You expect more–deserve more–but she turns on her heels, the sensors allowing passage as she hurries back out the way you suspect she only just came.

You’re as stunned as the bystanders around you, blinking at her retreating form into the small parking lot beyond. You can’t help but watch as she races across the asphalt, thoughts of her own task left behind in a trail of her own tears. Badly muffled whispers start in earnest at the display. Chorused words of ‘wicked woman’ following you out onto the pavement. Tongues lashing into open wounds kept bleeding by your own shame.

That pain is nothing in the wake of the familiar figure of a towering form.

He meets her halfway, hulking mass climbing out from the cab of a blackened range rover at the first sign of her obvious distress. From this far away you can only make out the sounds of heaving sobs, watch as dainty hands clutch the dark material of her protector, the furrow of his brow as he searches for answers to her suffering.

Whatever she responds, you find yourself once more snapped in place by the weight of his stare, looking no less worse for wear than the first time he did.

Logic says the phantom tartness on your tongue is a hallucination ingrained from previous exposure, but the inner omega whining helplessly to be understood doesn’t comprehend the self inflicted wounds she scores with brittle claws at the first chance to taste. In many ways, designative instincts retain the innocence of youth: purely reactionary in their naive disregard. They’re doe-eyed five year olds holding up the mangled body of a broken baby bird and proclaiming ‘they can fix it’. To them, they don’t realize the damage that comes with wishing for a bite of lemon zest when they know that cupcake is theirs, deaf to the scolding of a parent who knows better.

After all, what gives you the right to take what hasn’t been offered? For wishing for the comfort of an alpha’s scent that doesn’t belong to you? All it does is make you feel like the shameful thief the people in the shop think you are.

So you keep your distance from the alpha and his mate, once more stuck in a whirlwind of unintentional trouble. He’s too far away to make out the hues of his eyes, but his body language tells you exactly where he stands in all this. Fingers flexed in a possessive grip, the placement of his hand curled around her mid back, the subtle hunch he takes as he tucks her tearstained face beneath his covered chin.

A choice.

Conceal. Protect. Intruder.

You once wondered at the outcome if you hadn’t run that night; if the call that beckoned you ‘wait’ had kept you rooted to the floor. How would this mammoth have reacted - the one who only watched in pure neutrality as your world crumbled apart? Would he have let his friend make the first move forward? Would there have been an altercation? Spoken words and awkward introductions such as with their Scottish brethren? Did they care about your cowardice? Did the alphas give you chase? Lose your scent in the produce aisle and catch their breaths in the crisp night air?

At last you have your answer.

The judgment he passes as he turns his back to you has far more gravitas than the mopey donkey on your fridge. The conjured images of morbidity that entertained you earlier this morning feels like a holiday in comparison to the way your arteries shrivel from necrosis; down another size and a half by Grinch standards.

(Would it ever grow again?)

Closing your eyes against the sight is all you can do to maintain your sanity.

“Lass!”

As if life hasn’t finished causing you torment enough, the rough brogue catching your ears has your eyes peeling back open, the depression gluttoning away at your insides taking note at the promise of further feast, cackling gleefully at the tousled mohawk rounding the the opposite side of the vehicle his companions are approaching. Concern sits heavy on his brow, footsteps sure of their path as the pair sidle up along the drivers side of their SUV, lemon shuffling his omega through the open door he holds and into the relative safety of the back seat. You expect John to join them – to fuss and coo over her the same way he did for you in the cafe. Your masochism soaks up the envy like a yorkshire pudding at Christmas dinner.

But he makes no move to join his mate, blazing a path that leads beyond.

It’s not her he’s calling out for. It’s you.

Something smothers in your chest at the meaty glove that yanks him backwards, the heft of his brawn outmatched by the iron grip stopping him from advancing any further, shoved back against the shiny black of the range rover. The suspension creaks from the sheer force of the impact, giving you a hint as to the momentum which was suddenly reversed and applied to the hull, vehicle tilting a few centimeters off its wheelbase before thudding back down to settle on its chassis.

Charged static fills the air as overwhelmingly as the growl ripped from their chest – from which alpha you aren’t sure. The palpable anger that must be flaring in their scent chokes those unfortunate few nearby into hurrying along, a group of teenagers giving wide berth as the old man a few cars over shoves something fragile into the boot with a telltale crunch, slamming the latch shut before climbing over his center console to the steering wheel from the opposite side. No one wants to get involved in pack business, much less find themselves collateral damage in a showdown between behemoths.

Where lemon’s mouth is obscured, John’s isn’t, giving you unfiltered access to the snarl he spits up at the man a few inches taller than him. He makes his displeasure clear in a volume still too quiet for you to grasp, but his argument is apparent in the gesturing of his arms, the wildness matched by the heart he so clearly wears on his sleeve. His packmate stands in complete opposition to the outward show of aggression by the former, striking in his marble-like appearance, firm against the blunted chisel of whatever’s being discussed. The only sign that he’s participating comes in the form of the other’s interrupted pauses.

Your thoughts turn to the omega inside overhearing all of this. The discontent she must feel down the bond from those she loves most has to be just as painful as the ability to hear the quarreling itself. What must she be going through–huddled alone in the shadows by herself–having to listen to what you assume is an argument over another woman… one that a mate is clearly defending?

What consumes her more? Is it rage? Betrayal? Anguish? Abandonment? Jealousy? Your heart goes out to her at this moment in a way you’re not sure her packmates are knowing or even empathetic to.

You suddenly flinch as if being struck by the accusatory finger pointed in your direction by the up-until-now stoic alpha, nose to nose with a man he’s spent nights pressed even closer against. Whatever point he makes, there’s no rebuttal from the Scot this time – only a strained moment’s silence.

At last John shoves away the arm holding him, straightening his jacket with a look that says this isn’t over as his companion walks away to the driver’s side door. You don’t pay him further mind though as John huffs out his anger like a bull, raking a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze with far more softness. He sees it in your eyes the same way it reflects in his. Two pained apologies spoken without words.

Dark tint keeps you from seeing them as they enter the vehicle and drive off, peeling away with a nod to the discomfort inside but with enough self control to not endanger the ‘precious cargo’ in the back seat.

You knew the other day was too good to be true. It’s clear now the damage you’ve incurred in your foolish desire to forge a connection. The lies John told you to placate his unthinking selfishness. Why the radio silence has been deafening your apartment.

Nothing is alright. Everything is broken. You’ve ruined god knows how many years of passion and devotion by the sole act of your own pathetic existence.

You’ve robbed her of that–robbed them. Another reminder that they cannot give it to you. She has taken your place. They cannot claim another.

It’s your fault. Your fault.

Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault…

You can’t breathe.

Something’s crawling up your throat. You can’t–

As customers pass the threshold of the automatic glass doors, no one pays any mind to the sounds of retching in the dumpster.

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200 notes · View notes

worldsover · 1 year ago

Text

Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin

length ✦ 10k

genres ✧ it's a lot of oral, but hey, there's plot too; friends-to-lovers!Heejin

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Your fist clenches in a tight ball.

"If I die because of you, you better feed my fish."

"Die? You're being ridiculous," Heejin says.

You have a lot you could retort in that moment. Such as, "Me, the ridiculous one?" Or, "I'm being serious, I'm gonna actually die." Or, "You're actively contributing to the degradation of the meaning of language if you're claiming my suffering as ridiculous and assuming I'm participating in the honorable but currently inapplicable trope of hyperbole." All these things you can say, and you're without audible retort. This is the fourth time today Heejin's lips encircle your shaft; you were past dry by the third, because she would not let go of your cock for five minutes after your climax (because you didn't stop her).

Heejin's eyes beg, her lashes flutter, her tongue tempts, slithering, slick, and you think maybe you can spare her one more load.

Her mouth slips smoothly from the base of your cock to the head and then, pop. One big bubble of spit. She adds more, saliva foaming up on her tongue that's sticking out and toying with your tip.

"Don't die? Pwease?"

How ridiculous—or you could transcend to immortality at her behest.

All the while, she's sucking your dick in this bathroom like it's mere leisure for her. Like cigarettes to a smoker, she's blowing you like smoke, dirtying her throat, burning you up. Far past dignity now, the only thing she has between her knees and the floor is a bunch of toilet paper. The picture of addiction she paints is unfortunate and raw honesty and vivid contrast between such an elegant woman and such an inelegant solution to hunger. Despite how cavalier and practiced she is about introducing your tip to her uvula, Heejin will never give you a tidy blowjob. She salivates, every time, her tongue a wicked beast of its own, a serpent that can't lie above its love. And on the other hand, you can grumble and grouse all you want—if Heejin says your cock is going in her mouth, then…

You should've seen this coming like how you don't see yourself cumming because your eyelids are wired shut by the pretty agony of this orgasm. When you open them, her (fake, important to make the distinction) glasses are covered in streaks, her hands still twisting, tongue still licking your underside. Determination in her eyes says that every drop will be wrung out. It's possible this isn't leisure, but rather, business, and cum margins are getting lower as damnable inflation rises. She'll squeeze you dry for every last dollar of semen, no apologies to the sperm banks.

When Heejin is done, she sips on your cockhead, then a final kiss. You slump over the toilet and she pats your shoulder, laughing; it's a mean-spirited chuckle, but your dying wish is to hear that laugh one last time, so good on her for the penny of kindness she could spare like an insurance company donating to a hospital.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"How could anyone love sucking dick that much?" Jinsol asks.

You look at Jinsol, then look at Heejin. Then, look at Haseul, and look at Heejin again. You've never gotten used to this dynamic. How much are you supposed to interject between three drunk girls talking? Are you meant to at all? The topic has already gone off-course, and there's no captain to steer the ship back when you're six bottles down.

Your eyes fall on Heejin, then Haseul.

"Oh, man," Heejin says, downing a shot. Her hand falls around her cleavage, as she feels the warmth of the alcohol envelop her and shudders, eyes closed. "Do you really want to get into this?"

Look at Jinsol and Haseul as they laugh, and you join in laughter, and you look at Heejin again; now, she's serious, rolled up her sleeves for good measure. Let's address the whole looking at Heejin thing, because it's so apparent, even to your drunk ass, that it must be apparent to the others too—you asked her out a while ago, first year of college, rejection, but you're still friends now. Then, despite that, she started getting touchier, somehow more flirtatious. Drove and drives you fucking mad. This little hangout thing at Haseul's place is a long ways away (call it half a year) from getting four oral sessions in a day, though you remember it as being a pivotal stepping stone to the routine.

Focus. You're always putting on a performance, and the actors of the nerves of your brain are having trouble getting the script from the filing cabinets. Question: is it more or less suspicious to allocate, say, three glances toward Haseul and Jinsol each to compensate?

"Sure," Haseul says, still giggling to herself. She's been doing that ever since asked the first question. "What's so wonderful about getting your jaw sore and your mouth dry?"

Heejin makes an angry noise and says through gritted teeth, "It's not about that, obviously. There's so much more to sucking dick than the…" She gestures with her arms, unable to find a word.

"Why do you like it, Heejin?" you ask. Everyone stares at you. "Sorry, nevermind."

"No, no, it's fine," Heejin says."Lemme just, how do I put this? It's like, when you're sucking dick, you feel like you're controlling the dude. You decide when he gets hard, when he gets wet, and when he cums."

"So, you're a sadist," Jinsol says.

"Sadist, my ass," Heejin retorts. "It's… empowering. Sucking dick is empowering."

Huh. The alcohol fizzles and dies in your mind, and Heejin's deep voice echoes in your head to take the place—oh, Heejin is fucking wasted, by the way. Drank as much as the other two combined, but still standing (sitting), but barely.

"Weird," Jinsol replies.

Haseul crosses her arms, facing Jinsol. "Hey, don't kink shame."

"No, no, you don't get it. There's another reason," Heejin continues, verging mad by now. Her cheeks are turning red. "Dicks taste good. Taste amazing, even. And… dicks have faces."

Haseul spits out soju. Jinsol coughs soju. You're lucky you weren't mid-drink.

"Dicks have faces?" Jinsol and Haseul say together.

"Y-yeah," Heejin says, her face flushed. "Dicks have faces. Like, if you suck on the head a bit, you can see different expressions. If you lick the underside, you can see them smile. If you swallow deep… they cry."

Your pants tighten. Somehow, you get it.

She says quietly and quickly, "Oh and also I like the taste of cum. Alright, fine, I really like the taste of cum." She gets louder. "Fine, okay, geez, I LOVE the taste of cum! Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Everyone bursts out in laughter. Heejin sips angrily on soju.

"Alright, Heejin," you say. "That was quite an enlightening explanation."

"Shut up, you," she says, sternly.

You gulp.

Haseul and Jinsol go get snacks from the kitchen, leaving you and Heejin alone.

"Dicks have faces, huh," you say.

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Not a chance. You know, no one made you say all that."

Heejin grumbles. You try to get closer, but she puts her hand on your thigh.

"You've got a boner," she says. "Stop."

"Wha? What do you mean?"

"Stop." Heejin stares at you with a serious face, contrasting all the redness in her cheeks.

You don't know where to start with a response.

"It's just, I don't wanna make things weird"—too late—"and obviously all this girls' talk has you riled up or whatever"—by the way, Heejin's hand is slinking higher up your pants—"and I know it's not your fault, but, we're friends, and I don't wanna ruin that."

"S-sorry."

"Good boy."

Heejin had to look in your eyes while saying that one, huh?

You clear your throat, and all efforts to tame your second brain fail. Another drink. It's agonizing, waiting for Haseul and Jinsol to return. Then, Haseul and Jinsol return. Snacks. Too little, too late. There are probably other conversations as the night goes on, but your mind is already spinning from the alcohol, spinning even further at dirty thoughts incepted by Heejin. Eventually, Haseul and Jinsol conk out, and Heejin helps you carry them to Haseul's room.

"Heejin," you say. "I can carry them myself."

"Yeah, I know. Isn't it usually Jinsol who passes out last?"

You would scoff at Heejin's remark, though with your mind elsewhere, you just nod. After you lay Jinsol and Haseul delicately on the bed, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you jerk off furiously. You've never tugged yourself without a video in tow or some other material to assist, and you've never felt this urge drunk, but the mere concept of Heejin sucking off your cock like she needs it is enough for you to cum. Mark this as the inevitable inciting incident: the door swings open as you pump your last shot.

You make eye contact. Heejin blinks. Cum flies.

"Uh," you say.

"Woah," she says.

You say nothing.

Heejin closes the door.

"Shit," you mutter and you've used too much toilet paper wiping down where you shot and you're fumbling and you almost trip over yourself and—goddammit, what the fuck just happened. Once you clean yourself off, you go outside.

Heejin is standing there.

"It's fine. Don't sweat it," she says.

"I… I don't know if I can. You know. If I can, like, not sweat it, fuck." You sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Look, I'm gonna take the bed in her other room, you're fine with the couch right?"

You're drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch when Heejin shakes you awake.

"Huh?" you say.

"You know, I lied."

"About what?"

"Sucking dick having faces."

You blink. You rub your eyes.

"I lied. Dicks don't have faces. Cocks have personalities."

You're too tired to say anything. You just stare at Heejin. You smell a bit more alcohol on her shirt.

"Well, no, I mean, it's true, dicks have faces. But also cocks have personalities."

You think, but no words come out.

"The difference is, um, when a cock has personality, it has preferences and stuff. Like… preference for speed, depth, and tightness. When a cock has personality, you can tell when it likes and doesn't like what you're doing."

You nod off.

"Like, I could tell you would really like if I take all of you in my mouth. You definitely look more like an intimate, slow deepthroat kind of guy, you know, instead of the facefucking, gagging thing. It's like MBTI, yeah, that's it. Your cock is definitely an I, not an E. Oh, maybe a lot of tongue action? But not in the teasing the tip for the whole time sort of thing. Or, am I wrong? What kind of blowjobs do you like? Because you have the kind of cock I wanna tease, and the kind of dick I wanna kiss and why did you waste that load on a tissue, like are you kidding…"

Your eyes are closed.

A woman's deep voice. "Right. Well. Anyways, it's pretty late, and we're both drunk. So, uh. Good night. I guess."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You wake up. Sunlight. Snack wrappers. Haseul and Jinsol nowhere to be found, or awake, rather. Heejin is next to you on the couch—no, you're hugging each other—actually, she's draped over you like a blanket, and your erection is pushing against her ass.

Heejin wakes up.

"Shit," you say, getting up. "I'm sorry."

"Didn't I tell you to... ugh, whatever."

You sit on Haseul's couch, rubbing the sleep and hangover out of your face, crust out of your eyes. You stretch, hearing creaks in your bones. Heejin sits up, looks forward.

"Last night," she starts. "I might have said some, uh, crazy things."

You snort.

Looking at you, she frowns. She doesn't seem hungover at all, not a bead of sweat on her forehead. Her hair is perfect, as are her pouty lips.

Your brow upturned, you scoff. "Like, crazy? That's one way to put…"

There's a twist in those lips now, like she's running it back in her head; now you are too.

"I mean—yeah, that's the right word, but..."

She's still staring at you, and your mind's really running in circles and sure she laid out the track herself but you could just run off it at any time.

Oh, you're following the track still? "It's, just, I'm, I'm sorry for, what I was, you know, doing. Last night."

Heejin sighs. "I told you. Stop apologizing. It's fine."

"Okay," you say.

You make an excuse to Heejin about getting home, despite wanting nothing more than to spend time with her. What's the point of hanging out when it's just going to make your crush on her worse.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

When you get home, you end up jerking off three times in a row in your own bathroom, but at least you aren't interrupted any of those times.

A few days after the party, you've been thinking about Heejin's joke a lot more than you should.

The worst thing is that Heejin is being all chummy with you again like nothing happened. You wonder if she's doing that on purpose. Either way, you've learned that you need to distance yourself. You've been avoiding group hangouts. You haven't answered your texts in a couple days. You've avoided the pet store the both of you always visit, instead opting to support local businesses like—insert large delivery corporation here (no free advertising)—for your fish food. This goes on for a week.

The week ends when Jungeun comes to your house.

"What?" you say, lounging, staring at air bubbles floating to the top of your little aquarium.

"Don't 'what' me," Jungeun replies through the closed door. "Open up."

"No."

"Look, I'm here because Heejin is really sad, and so Haseul wanted to know why you're not talking to Heejin, and I volunteered because I could tell Heejin really wants to see you and not just talk to you."

"Jungeun, I don't know."

"Listen. I'm not leaving."

Ten minutes later, Jungeun is eating potato chips in your room.

"So… why are you avoiding her?" Jungeun asks.

"What does she want to say to me?" you ask.

Jungeun pauses. "She… told me to tell you to go see her."

You sit on your sofa next to Jungeun, grabbing chips out of the bag. They're your chips.

"She didn't tell me to tell you what exactly it is, but it's important," Jungeun continues. "But honestly, what's been up with you?"

"Nothing's been up with me. I'm the same guy."

"That sounds like someone who has not been the same guy."

You eat more chips. "And how are things going with you and Jinsol," you say.

Jungeun stops slouching. "Hey, don't try and change the subject. For the record, it's been going fine, thank you very much."

"Sounds like you're still in the friendzone."

"You're the last person I want to hear that from."

"Me, the last person? I'd assume Jinsol would be the last person you want to hear that from."

"Fine! Just stop being a dumbass, okay? Heejin really, really wants to talk to you."

You put your hands up. "Okay. You win. I'll talk to her."

"Awesome." Jungeun looks down at her phone, then looking back up, she smiles. "Oh, by the way, Yerim just texted me, she finally finished exams for the semester. What if Heejin and Yerim both come over? We can get everything out of the way, two for one deal."

You sigh. "Yeah, I guess."

She pats you on the shoulder.

You feel no less comforted.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Two for one deal, your ass. You're pacing around your bedroom. Yerim and Jungeun are playing Smash in the living room, and Heejin is… somewhere, probably. The door is shut. All the noise in the world is muffled. You don't know what to expect. Obviously, Heejin needs to talk to you; you're her friend, one of her best friends, and you've been ignoring her for the past week. You sit down. Take a deep breath.

Knock, knock.

"Come in," you say.

You sit on your bed. So does Heejin. You look away. Look down. She smells really, really good, sweet and warm. You've missed her, a lot.

"Hey," Heejin says.

So she's talking first. "Hey," you respond.

You were already loosening up your tense shoulders, but Heejin says "So, Mr. Dickface" and you laugh and you look at Heejin, casually stunning in a simple outfit, a white tee, black shorts.

"Heejin, come on. It's been a week. I swear I would've forgotten if you didn't bring it up."

She pouts.

"Okay," you say, "alright, I would have not forgotten, fine. I still can't believe you. Dicks having faces."

She laughs now.

There's a lull in the conversation. The sound of Yerim shouting and buttons mashing is barely audible. You turn to face Heejin, and she's still looking at you. Her eyes are… soft, vulnerable. She's holding herself.

"Listen," Heejin says. "I'm sorry if I've been weird these past... mmm, months? I know you're not dumb, and I guess, I've been treating you like you are."

You whisper, "I am dumb though."

"No, you're not." She scoffs. "I'm sorry, seriously. We're friends. And friends don't lead each other on and play games"—the sound of a cheer coming from outside the room, definitely Jungeun—"okay, well, they do, but friends don't keep their friends wondering."

"Wondering?"

Heejin sighs. "Let me just get this off my chest. So, yeah, I like you. A lot. Obviously, you've liked me since the beginning. Or, well, loved. When you asked me out, I was excited and nervous and confused, but I... You know me. I've got a million things going on at the same time. Dating as a possibility didn't even cross my mind."

"Yeah. I get it. I don't blame you for that. I guess if we're both laying it all out, I get it. I swear I do. It's that dynamic that always fucks up a friendship between guy and a girl, and I think it's good we got that question out of the way early. But like, I was shocked, obviously, when you started touching me so much, holding hands, sitting on my lap, hugging me." You pause and look away. "It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Like you were playing with my feelings."

Heejin reaches out and takes your hand. "I wasn’t playing with you," she says softly. “I was playing with myself"—half a giggle comes out of you, adding some levity, and she smacks your shoulder—"No, not like that. What was I saying? Right, I guess I was trying to figure out what I wanted."

"Right." Your head hangs again. "So what? I'm just a bystander? A side effect?"

"Yes."

She laughs, squeezing your hand. You pout.

"I'm kidding. You're more than that. Way more. I've learned that much by now."

Heejin takes a long pause.

You can hear breathing, neither exhalations nor inhalations matching pace. It's tense.

"You know what else I learned? Because there's something else on my mind right now. Sort of, sparking in my head, shouting. I know we're having this whole heartfelt thing and I'm sorry for ruining it, but I have to say this because you have a boner and it's springing in your pants and I might be drooling or something—fuck. I've learned that I love sucking dick. A lot. Okay?"

This is the first time you've seen Heejin get so flustered, so bothered. So are you.

She isn't looking at you, yet she continues anyway: "Well. I have to be honest. That's all hypothetical. You know, I've never actually done it. I've just thought about it. A lot. And, obviously, you know, cucumbers turn to dildos and other toys and stuff. And then I saw your dick. And now I've thought about your dick and keep thinking about it."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Yeah." Heejin starts nodding, gaining confidence. "Yeah. I'm certain now. And please, don't think you're taking advantage of me or something, because you're not. In fact, I want you to take advantage of me."

Your breath stays in your lungs.

"How about this," Heejin says, leaning in more. "Do you wanna… fuck around? Or, well, I mean, that's a crass way of putting it. Be my partner in crime. Suckbuddy. Fuckfriend. Whatever you call it. No strings attached. You want a blowjob? You'll get a blowjob. That kind of thing. Even if it's not dating or whatever, we just do what we want to do and we can figure it out later."

Your smile grows slowly. "You know what? Sounds good to me."

"That's it? I drop all that in front of you and you're just, 'sounds good to me'?"

"Okay, fine. Here. I forgive you. That good?"

"Actually, that helps." Heejin exhales, a sigh of relief. "Great."

Silence. Cleared throats. The both of you sit closer now. Her knees bump into yours, and she giggles. She holds your hand. Your eyes meet. You're holding her gaze and her body heat is emanating from her skin and you want her, badly.

"You look handsome today," Heejin whispers. "Have I told you that lately?"

"No," you say, quieter, feeling meek. "You haven't. Thank you."

Her free hand brushes strands of hair.

"Your hair, so cute," she says, happily humming.

Heejin scoots even closer as her knee nudges between your legs.

"Nothing to say? Mm… okay. I have a question."

"What is it?"

Heejin kisses you, immediately catching your lips before you can breath, a taste of chocolate-tinged lip gloss, as her tongue mingles with yours. Her hand lays over your bulge, and her leg is still bumping into your crotch. She pulls away.

"Wow. You're kissing good," she says, flustered.

"No, you're better at it. Amazing. You're amazing."

"God, you're sweet." She laughs.

Your mouths are together again. You pull her into a hug, and she squeals.

"Woah there," she says.

"Sorry. Got a little excited."

"It's fine." Heejin looks away.

You squeeze her harder, and she squeezes you harder. You break the hug.

"Hey. How far," Heejin starts, "do you think we want to go?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, right now. In the moment. If I'm reading this right, and I think I am, you really, really want me. So how far? Are we just gonna kiss this time? Or do you wanna go a bit further? A lot further."

You freeze. "Honestly, you decide."

"You sure? Because, if I had it my way, I, um, I don't think I'll stop sucking your dick until Yerim finally wins a round and they wonder where the fuck we've been."

Your eyes are wide. "Y-you're really picturing that, aren't you? The two of them barging in while my cock is down your throat."

She does not reply.

"You are unbelievable."

"I can't help it," she says, almost whining. "You have the sort of cock I really want to play with."

You pull Heejin back into another hug, kissing her. She pushes you onto the bed and straddles your thighs. Her body heat, her scent, her hands caressing you. This is the first time you're feeling this much of her body against your own, and it's incredible. Even better—much, much better—is when she lifts up her shirt, revealing a simple, black bra. She takes her shirt off completely, and your hands grab at her stomach. How many times have you watched her do ab workouts for an ungodly amount of time, hoping one day you could feel her six-pack for yourself? Your hands then trail up higher, until you're grabbing at her tits, still ensconced within the confines of a bra, but her breasts are heavenly, perky, waiting to be squished and bounced on your hands.

Heejin has other designs for you: she grabs both of your wrists and pins them to the bed above your head. Your pants are tenting, and she grinds against your cock. You moan.

"I love seeing you like this," Heejin says. She lowers her torso onto yours, breasts spilling out of her bra a bit. She grinds harder, and you moan again. "You're so hot, and you're all for me. God, I wanna… fuck around so much."

She backs up, dragging her crotch down your leg as she descends. When she reaches your foot, she sits and puts it between her legs.

"Shit, Heejin," you say.

She bends over to kiss your neck.

"Your foot… feels good. I'll never say that again, so don't you dare make fun of me."

"Wouldn't dream of it. You can always tell me what you like."

She's rubbing her crotch against your ankle and taking your shirt off. Her lips move down to your nipple, licking circles around it.

"Your cock… feels big," she says. She grabs at it through your pants. "I'm so fucking excited for the real thing."

You've imagined this moment so many times. You'd fantasized about being pinned to a bed, about being teased by Heejin, of course, but you didn't expect, couldn't ever picture how she'd really sound, how she'd actually feel, how it would feel to be touched, licked, kissed by her. And yet here she is, biting on your nipple, moaning herself as she uses your foot.

She lets go. "Your… chest is so nice."

"Uh, thanks."

Heejin smiles and returns to biting, but on your other nipple instead. Her next pecks and licks are on your own abs, tracing over your six pack, following the ridges and dips with her tongue. She takes your waistband in her mouth. Slowly, she pulls down. You lift your hips, and then your pants are off. Heejin drags her cheek against your cock through your underwear, eyes closed.

"Your scent… is amazing." She licks the fabric along your length, where it bulges. "Mmm, this is what I'm talking about."

Your cockhead is poking out of your waistband. She kisses it, and then sucks on it through your underwear.

"Heejin, take it… off."

She stops, eyes wide. She pulls your waistband with her mouth, and you lift your hips again. She tugs it down, your cock sprinting out.

"Oh, wow," she says.

"W-what is it?"

"Your cock… is really, really gorgeous."

You gulp. "Thanks."

Heejin takes your cockhead in her mouth. You close your eyes. She swirls her tongue around the tip. She bobs down, lips wrapped around your shaft. Then, pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand.

"Is this… okay?" she asks.

"More than okay. Really, really, really okay."

"Good." She jerks you off, her spit easing the friction.

"Shit, Heejin."

"God, I love hearing you say my name."

She moves faster, your cock slick in her palm. She alternates between fast and slow. One second, she's going quick, and the next, her hand is barely moving, and your cock is twitching in her grasp. Her thumb strokes your underside.

"I… love teasing you," Heejin says. "I love making you beg for me to go faster."

"Please, go faster, then."

"You're so cute." She goes slower. You groan.

Heejin moves her grip to your balls, stroking your underside with her thumb again. Her other hand grabs the base of your cock. Her mouth returns, sucking on your balls. She's pumping up and down.

"Fuck, Heejin, please… go faster."

"Again."

You gulp. "Please, Heejin, go faster."

"Good boy."

Her hand speeds up. Your balls are getting sucked, her tongue licking around them, and her other hand is jerking, and it's like she's milking you. Your climax is imminent. You warn her.

"You're gonna make me cum."

Heejin pops off your balls and takes your cock out of her hand. She lowers her torso.

"I've been waiting so long for this," she says.

She swallows you.

Her tongue is slathering your shaft, and she's bobbing down, and her lips are tight around you. The tip of your cock bumps into the back of her throat. Her hand is caressing your balls. Her other hand is pumping the rest of your shaft. She comes up, taking a deep breath, and her eyes are watering. You wipe the tears away. She smiles, as if she's satisfied with having gagged on your shaft, as if she believes with her heart of hearts her own doctrine, and in such resolve of her mouth returning, you can't deny it.

Maybe her jaw hurts. Maybe her throat's dry. But you sense none of it. Deeper, you hit the back of her throat again, and her lips still curl up into a smile even through more tears. She's still pumping, and her other hand is pinching her nipples. Heejin moans. Her moan vibrates your cock, and her moan vibrates her throat, and her moan vibrates her tongue, like, holy shit, you've never felt anything better. And then…

"Heejin, I'm… cumming."

She stays down. You shoot. Her eyes widen. Another shot, and her eyes are closed. Another shot, and you're groaning, and her throat is swallowing. More shots. You're pumping Heejin full of your cum, and she's pumping you empty. Heejin, relentless, keeps sucking. You try and push her off, meteors dancing in your mind, but she won't budge. She stays down, her eyes still closed.

"Heejin, wait, wait, I'm so, so sensitive."

Heejin shakes her head. With her mouth still full, she says, "Wah, want… ahll."

You collapse. Heejin keeps sucking. Your cock is twitching in her mouth, and you try backing up in your mattress until you hit the headboard. You grip the sheets. You can't stop cumming. Every suck Heejin takes is another shot down her throat, each one joined by a satisfied "mm, mm", and swallowed without hesitation. You lose track of how many shots you pump into her. Even when you stop spurting semen into her mouth, and your orgasm is subsiding, Heejin stays down. She moves her lips from the base of your cock up to your tip, and she sticks her tongue out to cushion the underside of your shaft. You're shaking. You can't stop shaking.

"Heejin," you say—no, you gasp it; you croak it out; you despair for the name, "wait."

She does just that. Wait. With your cock in her lips like a popsicle, and she's waiting for you to melt. She breathes through her nose, humming to herself. You shudder. Your cock is still sensitive.

"Please… wait."

Heejin listens. She doesn't suck, and she doesn't bob. She waits. Your orgasm is over. Your mind is fading.

Pop.

She sucks the tip. Pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand again. Her tongue sticks out and licks up your shaft, where all the leftover cum and spit and saliva has gathered.

"Ahh." Her tongue is covered in white cream. A gulp. "Ahh." Her tongue is clean.

If you need a few more breaths, unfortunately you've used up all the air already, and you're just running on whatever other fumes now. "You… are insane," you say.

She giggles. "Was it that bad?"

"No, no, no, it was… the best. And the worst. A-are you gonna do that every time?"

"Do what?"

"Never mind."

Heejin crawls on top of your body. Your cock is nestled between her thighs. She lies on top of you.

"Did you like it?" she asks.

"Yes."

"Do you wanna… keep being fuckfriends with me? Suckbuddies? While I talked all the game about blowjobs, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a little oral service once in a while too." She says quietly, like she's felt bashfulness for the first time in her life, "And, I, um, am down to do more too. A little later. Or something."

"Of course. Yeah."

You wrap your arms around her.

"Good," Heejin says.

She kisses you. Your cum is on her lips, and she's sharing the taste with you. You taste yourself. It's nothing terrible, but she did gulp your load down without stopping, so, you can't fully empathize with her enthusiasm. Still, you reciprocate, savoring Heejin instead.

You hear cheering from outside the room.

"Think Jungeun won," Heejin says.

You snort. "Should we… go out? Pretend like nothing's changed?"

"I'm sure we'll figure something out."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You and Heejin end up deciding not to hide anything, but not telling the girls either. They'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you'd both want to brag about it, eventually.

After the three of them say their goodbyes and leave your house, you head straight to your bathroom. You thought Heejin's lips fully drained you dry, but apparently not, because you shoot more loads thinking of how her throat swallowed you.

You receive a text from her.

> miss you already ;)

You smile.

> Miss you too. can't wait for next time.

Heejin sends a photo. A strand of spit falls from her lips, down to her cleavage. Your heart skips a beat.

> neither can i <3

You save the photo.

Your phone buzzes again.

> don't jack off to it though

> Too late.

You send your fingers and shaft covered in cum.

She sends a photo again, of her frowning.

> wtf!! that was my load! i'm gonna kill you!!!

You laugh and send a text with your other hand.

> Love you.

> lol yeah yeah whatever

You send another photo of your cock.

> another pic. As my apology

> wait.... didn't you say you just jerked off

> yeah?

> and you're still hard?

You gulp.

> guess so.

> you're such a stud. come over. i'll help you with that

You can't get dressed fast enough.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You meet halfway. A park, late at night. Fastest option, you're both too horny. You and Heejin are behind a building, some sort of community center, too late to be open or for the sun to shine down on the two of you being so daring outdoors.

Heejin's lips are on your neck, bound to leave marks, but you can't find yourself caring. Her hand is massaging your balls over your shorts, her other hand is down your underwear pumping your shaft, and her thigh is grinding against your cock. She kisses you.

You grab her jaw and pull her off you. "Um, I'm sorry. I, um, I think we might wanna establish some ground rules or something."

She stares at you, wide-eyed. "Ground rules? Like, safewords and stuff?"

"Uh, I guess, yeah. I just… I don't know, it'd make me feel more comfortable if, you know, we had some boundaries."

Heejin sighs. "Fine. Fair. Makes sense, I guess. I'm not a huge fan of… talking about feelings and stuff, but, I get it."

"Right, so, um, obviously, no feelings, and, I dunno, no dating?"

"Yep. You can see other girls. I'll see other dudes. Nothing serious."

"Sure. Yeah. Okay."

Heejin continues pumping your cock. "Anything… else?"

You gulp. "Safeword, I guess. And, like, is there anything you're… not okay with?"

"Um, not sure. Never thought about it."

"Okay, well, what's a word you hate?"

"Hmm… dick."

You blink.

Heejin giggles. "Just kidding. Um, I dunno, uh, penis? Cock? Uhh… sausage."

"Sausage?"

"Yeah. Sausage."

You pause. "And if, you know, I can't speak?"

"Tap three times on me or whatever. Three for sausage. Sounds good?"

"Yep. Three for sausage."

"Great. Anything else?"

"There was one thing in particular I was thinking about. So like, one time, I nutted seven times in a day."

Her mouth starts to water. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Heejin pumps faster. "That's… amazing."

"No, but that's the thing. I gotta set limits, Heejin. Even this, third time, it's, it's a lot. Too much."

She frowns. "What, so… no multiple nut sessions?"

"Once a week. Maybe."

"Fine, fine, okay. Once a week."

"Okay, cool. Ground rules established. Sausage as the safeword. No dating, seeing other people. Three times for sausage. One nut session a week."

"Got it." Heejin resumes pumping your shaft.

"Hey, Heejin, um, what do you want me to… do, when you're blowing me? Anything you want? Because it feels like I'm just"—she gets on her knees—"kinda doing nothing and"—she pulls your shorts and underwear down—"you're doing"—she puts your cockhead in her mouth—everything, see!"

Pop. "Yeah. I dunno. Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself."

"Wait, Heejin, but, aren't we partners in crime, fuckbuddies, whatever, I wanna, like, make you feel good too."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Dickface." She jerks your shaft, and your knees buckle. You figure you might as well sit on the concrete floor, your back slumped on the brick wall. It's a makeshift position that you'll learn to get used to. She lowers her face to your crotch, then continues, "But don't worry. Feeling your cock cum is enough to make me feel good."

Heejin licks circles around your shaft, where the precum has gathered. Her hand is pumping the rest. Your cock is already twitching.

"Besides," she continues, "if you focus on me… we'd never get anywhere."

Pop.

She swallows you.

"Heejin, shit."

Her bobbing is relentless. She's pumping your shaft and massaging your balls, and she's deepthroating your shaft. Her spit is drenching your cock, and her lips are tight, and her tongue is slathering. Heejin's bobbing up and down, and your cockhead bumps into the back of her throat. Your balls clench. You shoot.

Pop.

Heejin takes your cockhead out of her mouth. Her hand is jerking, and the first shot hits her lips. The second, she opens her mouth to catch. The third, she closes her lips. The fourth, she catches in her mouth again. The fifth, she swipes up with her tongue. The sixth, she catches. The seventh, she misses, and your cum lands on her cheek. The eighth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her chin. The ninth, Heejin opens her mouth, and your cum falls right in. She gulps. The tenth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her neck. Heejin's pumping slows.

"That… was… amazing," you say.

Pop. "Yeah."

"Fuck. I'm just saying. Next time, I'm going to get a taste of your pussy." You open your mouth. "See, my mouth's watering just thinking about it."

"Yeah?" She jerks your shaft. Another shot lands on her neck. She wipes your cum and sticks her finger in your mouth. "You're adorable. But you're right. Next time."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The two of you had ramyeon at a convenience store after, then said bye. Like friends. Just friends.

The next time is two days later, at night again. This time, you finally go to Heejin's apartment. You haven't been here in a long time, not since she moved in. It's cleaner than you remember.

"Make yourself at home," Heejin says.

You sit on her couch. She sits next to you. You kiss. Your hands are groping her breasts, and her hand is pumping your shaft. You lift her shirt, and her tits are freed from her bra. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them.

"Hey, wait, stop, stop," she says.

"Sausage?"

"N-no, I'm… fine, just, wait."

"What is it?"

"Um, so… I kinda… made a mess. Earlier."

"What… kind of mess?"

She giggles. "On my bed. You'll see."

Heejin leads you to her room.

"Holy shit," you say.

"Surprise?"

She's made a mess, alright. Sheets stained white, spots and splotches, streaks and trails, the whole nine yards. Your cock twitches, even if you're confused how one woman could make such a mess on her own.

"I was, um, thinking about sucking your cock all day yesterday. I didn't wanna touch myself, but I couldn't help it."

"I'm glad."

Heejin lies on her bed, pulling her shorts and underwear off. Her pussy is glistening. She spreads her legs.

"Come. Lick it."

"I've been waiting for this." You crawl on top of Heejin's body and put your face between her legs. You lick circles around her slit. You lick up and down her folds. "I don't exactly have toys to practice on like you... so I'm gonna need to do plenty of catching up."

"Don't worry. Practice away."

You lick circles again, and Heejin's quiet. You lick up and down, and she's quiet. You flick her clit, and Heejin's quiet. Your tongue is slathering her slit, and she's quiet.

"Wait, Heejin, is… everything okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"What is it? Is my tongue rough or something?"

She looks at you. "Oh, no, no, not at all! No, it's, um, your technique's, uh, kinda lacking."

"Ah. Yeah, see."

"Here, I'll show you."

Heejin sits up and pushes you down. She's straddling your face.

"First," she says, "spread my… my lips. Like this."

She spreads her labia.

"Then, you wanna, kinda, stick your tongue inside, like, deep."

Heejin uses her finger to spread herself wider. You stick your tongue inside her hole.

"Now… use your thumb to, like, rub my clit, and move your tongue around. Like, you're, um, writing, something, with your tongue, I guess. Inside me. Like, a, um, circle. Shit, I dunno."

You rub her clit. Heejin moans. You lick circles inside her hole.

"And, uh, yeah, that's… about it. Oh, and, move your, your finger and thumb. Not at the same time. And I'll grab your hair and move you around and I guess just tell you what to do. And then you can figure it out after that, right?"

"Yeah. Got it."

Heejin lies back down. You spread her lips. You stick your tongue inside her hole. You rub her clit. You lick circles inside her hole.

"A little lower. And, and, like, lick, not circles, but, a, like, a line. But not a straight line. An, um, I dunno, a diagonal one. But not a diagonal one. A, uh, a curve, but not a curve. Um."

You lick lower. You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve.

"There. Yeah. That's… good. Keep going."

You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve. Heejin moans. Your tongue is still licking, and she moans, and her hand is on top of your head.

"Use your, your thumb, and, and, like, stick your index finger inside. Like, curl your finger and, and, find my, my, um, g-spot."

You rub her clit. You stick your index finger inside. You curl your finger. Heejin moans. Your tongue is licking diagonally, but not a diagonal. Your index finger is curling, searching, and you find her g-spot, a soft patch inside her walls. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Heejin moans again.

"Add… another finger."

You stick your middle finger inside.

"Curve both, both your, your fingers. Both fingers."

You curl both your fingers.

"And, and, like, twist. But not twist. Rotate. But not rotate. Uh, fuck, um, shit, I dunno, uh, fuck, whatever, just, um, fuck, uh, wait."

You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You curl both fingers. You rotate, but not rotate. While you're going through advanced mathematics under a tutor under a slightly lust-drunk stupor, you're starting to understand both sides more. On the one hand, your mouth is indeed going dry, and your jaw is starting to hurt. On the other hand, you're drooling. Whatever taste Heejin's pussy has is starting to get really addicting, enough for your cock to stay hard the entire time, enough for you to ignore the fatigue.

"Add… another finger."

You stick your ring finger inside, which immediately earns a moan from Heejin. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Your fingers are curled, rotated, twisted, whatever. Heejin moans again. You're rubbing her clit.

"Fuck, more, more. Rub my, my, rub my clit faster. Fuck, lick faster."

You speed up. You curl your fingers. You rotate them. You twist them. Heejin moans again. Her hand is tight on top of your head. Her body is trembling. You move your free hand and press it onto her stomach to keep her still. Your three fingers are thrusting in and out of Heejin's pussy, and her hips are buckling. Her walls are clenching. She moans, a final time.

Heejin lets go. You lick. Your fingers are thrusting. Your thumb is rubbing her clit. Heejin shudders. More gushes of cum coat your tongue and fingers. She's going to drown you. You understand how she made that mess. Your three fingers are pistoning in and out of Heejin's pussy as her climax subsides. More gushes. More. Less. Some.

"Wait," she says. "Hold… hold it. My spot."

You stop rotating, twisting, and whatever-ing. Her walls are fluttering. Your three fingers are still. Her girl cum is trickling out of her hole.

You take your face off Heejin's crotch.

"Holy… fucking shit," she says.

"Wild ride?"

"That was… amazing."

You flex your fingers. "Yeah. Didn't know you could squirt like that."

"Neither did… I."

Heejin props herself up. You stick your three cum-soaked fingers in her mouth. She sucks. She moans. You stick them deeper down her throat, and her lips are wrapping. Her eyes are closing.

"Thanks for… teaching me," you say.

Pop. "Mmm. Of course."

Your three fingers return to her pussy. You pump, and her girl cum is slicking your fingers. Heejin lies back down. Your three fingers are pistoning again. She moans.

"Wait, wait, sausage, sausage!"

You stop. "Shit, sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine. Just, sensitive."

"Got it."

Heejin giggles. "Sorry. Sometimes… I squirt a lot. Um. Overstimulated."

"Well, at least you know how I feel."

"Wait, was that a sausage moment, because I feel so bad and—"

You interrupt Heejin with a kiss. "No, it's fine. In fact, it was really fucking hot, and besides, I already told you about how much I can cum. Oh yeah, by the way—" another kiss, because there is no such thing as too many with Heejin "—I kinda wanna see the toys you were talking about."

"Really?"

"Yeah. If that's… cool."

She smiles. "Sure. Lemme, lemme clean up first."

"Alright."

Heejin cleans her bed with tissues, and you help her wipe up. Then, you head to her closet. She opens it, and… holy shit. There's an assortment of vibrators and dildos and g-spot stimulators and other contraptions and tools, almost an entire shelf dedicated to sex toys.

"This is… incredible," you say.

"Hey, um, by the way, could you, um, close your eyes?" she asks. "I, um, dunno, it'd… feel less embarrassing."

"Sure."

You close your eyes.

"And, like, turn around."

You turn around.

"Okay, okay, so, um, these ones"—you hear plastic tapping against plastic—"are just the vibrators. These ones"—plastic tapping again—"are the dildos. And then… um, these ones are for g-spots, and, and then there's more for anal, and then… um, I dunno, basically, um, the rest is stuff I've gotten on impulse because it looked fun."

You snort. "Impulse, huh?"

"Shut up. Um… open your eyes."

You turn back around. Heejin's holding a Hitachi wand.

"Okay, so, like, this, this is probably my favorite. Wand. Magic wand. And then"—she puts it back and holds a simple, white vibrator—"this is the, um, the next one." She puts it back and holds a curved, purple toy—"then this. Um… this is, this is the biggest"—she puts it back and holds a monster of a dildo—"um, and then, this is the smallest." She points to a cute, pink bullet vibe.

So many questions flood your mind, but the only thing you can blurt out is, "Impulse purchases, huh?"

Heejin shoves you. "Shut up! Um… and then, this"—black anal beads—"and, um, this"—clear, pink butt plug—"are for anal. Obviously. And then, um, basically, I've, um, experimented. A lot."

"Experimented, huh?"

She shoves you again. "Stop… saying huh!"

You wrap Heejin in a hug. "I'll say huh as much as I want."

"Whatever. Um… anything you wanna… try?"

You gulp. "C-could I watch you use them?"

Heejin steps away. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you're comfortable. Like, right now. Or something."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

Heejin sighs. "You… absolute pervert."

"You're the one with"—you point to her shelf—"all that."

"Fine, fine. Um, sure. Which… do you wanna see me use?"

You gulp again. "So, um. You said you practiced sucking dick on one of them right? Imagined it was me?"

She rubs her thighs together. "Y-yeah."

"Which… was it?"

Heejin reaches for one. She holds a flesh-colored dildo, about the length and girth of your own cock.

"This one," she says.

"Then, that one, please."

She nods. "Okay… sit on the bed. Get comfy."

Heejin puts the dildo on her bed and closes the closet door. She undresses completely, tossing her clothes to the side. Your cock is tenting. She returns, picks the dildo, and then she lies on her bed next to you.

"So… you, you just wanna watch me use this? Suck on it and stuff?"

You nod. "Yeah. Please."

Heejin bends her legs and spreads her thighs. Your cock twitches. Her free hand rubs her slit. She's spreading her lips.

"Shit, Heejin, you're so hot."

"Thanks… pervert."

She sticks the dildo inside her hole, and you love watching how her pussy stretches for it. Especially knowing your cock will be doing the same soon. That image makes you harder, enough for you to pull down your pants and start jerking.

"Heejin, would, would you… talk? Your voice is so pretty."

Heejin blushes. "Thank you. What do you want me to say?"

"Just, like, anything. Tell me… what you're imagining. What you're feeling.. Your fantasies."

Heejin gulps. "Um, o-okay."

Her free hand is rubbing circles around her clit. The dildo is slowly pumping in and out of her hole.

"Sometimes, um," she starts, "sometimes I imagine… it's you. Inside me. Your cock. And, um, usually, we're, we're doing missionary, and, um, your hands are on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Wait, come here. Pinch my nipples."

You follow her command, sitting closer to her so you can grab a nipple with one hand while your other jerks faster. Heejin moans. You jerk faster.

"Oh, god, mmm. If I could keep your gorgeous fucking dick in my mouth all day I would. I'd suck it every second. God, I'd, I'd wake up to it. I'd go to sleep sucking on it. Hnnh. Your hands… are making me feel really good. Or we could cuddle and watch a movie, and the whole time you'd be... fuck, you'd be slowly sliding your cock in and out of my asshole. Mmnh. God, and, maybe we'd have friends over, and you'd fuck me from behind, and no one would know. Shit, especially when we're at Yerim's, you could take me to her really nice bathroom and rail me in her really nice shower. Mmm."

The dildo speeds up, and her clit rubbing is speeding up. Your jerking is speeding up too.

"Or we'd go out to eat, and, fuck, you'd finger me under the table, and then, and then you'd order dessert, and instead of eating the real thing, you'd feed me your cock, and I'd cream myself. God, shit, your hands. Mmfh. Or, or, sometimes I imagine, we're on the couch, and Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul are hanging out, and they're just chatting away, and I'm sucking your dick, or you're fingering me, or I'm warming your cock in my pussy, and no one would know. Shit. Or they do know, and they pretend like I'm not even there on my knees sucking you off. Fuck."

You're about to cum. "Shit, Heejin, keep going, I'm so, so, so, so close."

"Nngh. And I'd even—wait, d-don't waste that cum yet." She takes the dildo out and moves closer to you. "Feed me. Put it in my mouth."

You do. Heejin's jerking the rest of your shaft, and your tip is in her lips, and she's pumping, and her spit is slathering. You groan, and she moans, and a shot fires into her throat. Her jerking doesn't stop. Another shot, and your mind is fading. Another.

Pop. She's gasping for air, trying not to spill the load as she speaks. "Ahh, waih, feed me, hah, some cum, wifh your hand."

You take your cock out of her mouth, masturbating some cum onto your palm. Once your climax eventually subsides, you offer your hand to Heejin, and she makes eye contact as she slurps up your seed and licks every joint of your fingers.

After she has every drop she can get in her mouth, she looks up, gargles, and then gulps. "Thank you for the meal."

You sigh. "Jesus, you're crazy."

"Only for you."

You kiss. "I'm honored."

"Um, by the way, can I finish?"

"Yeah, of course."

Heejin lies back down and picks the dildo. Her free hand is rubbing her clit again, and the dildo is pumping in and out of her hole.

"Hold on," you say. "Could I… use the wand on you?"

She stops. "Really?"

"Yeah. Unless it's sausage time."

Heejin giggles. "No, no, it's fine, just, um, lemme… get comfy again." She gets on all fours, and you move to a squat, holding the wand in one hand and the dildo in the other. "And, um, don't turn it on the highest setting. Not yet."

"Got it."

You stick the dildo inside Heejin's pussy and move the wand to her clit. You turn the wand on, and the sound of buzzing fills her room, followed by a moan from Heejin.

"Tell me more fantasies," you say.

She tries her best to give you everything she's thinking about, from bending her over the kitchen counter to tying her up and edging her, from fucking her mouth blindfolded to having a whole day where you fuck her whenever you want, free-use style. You're glad that she trusts you enough to share her kinks. You're looking forward to experiencing them someday.

Her dirty talking devolves into incomprehensible moans, and her doggystyle position is faltering, her face in the mattress. You stick the dildo deeper, and you turn the wand to a higher setting. She screams.

"Shit, sausage, sausage!"

You immediately stop everything. Heejin's trembling.

"Oh, god," she says.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just, too much."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"No, no, it's fine, just, sensitive. But you owe me."

"What do you mean?"

"Turn the wand off and give me the dildo. I'm going to cum with your cock in my mouth because that's where it belongs."

You comply, handing her the dildo and turning the wand off. Then, Heejin lies back down on the bed. You're uncertain about where to go, until she grabs your ass, pulling you to mount on top of her chest.

"There we go."

You look back and see Heejin starting to dildo-fuck herself again, and before you can look at Heejin's face again, she's already captured your cockhead in her lips.

"Oh, fuck," you say.

She moans. You jerk off the rest of your shaft, and she's moaning hungrily around you. Heejin's free hand massages your balls, and she pistons the dildo at a hearty pace, a loud, sloppy pace. As if she were imitating what your cock would sound like, if it were pounding her hole. Having painted a million pictures in your mind, and having heard her talk about so many fantasies, your mind can't help but fill in the blanks. The biggest blank is her throat.

"Heejin," you say.

Pop. "Mmm. Yeah?"

"Could I… choke you with my cock?"

She giggles. "Go for it, stud. Shoot it straight down. I don't care. It'll make me cum harder. I wanna feel my throat bruise."

You gulp. "A-are you sure?"

"Mmm. Totally. I'm gonna keep fucking myself and sucking you off and if I tap three times on you, then it's sausage time, and you stop choking me. Deal?"

"Deal."

Heejin takes your cockhead back in her mouth and moans. Her free hand goes back to your balls, and you place both your hands on the sides of her head. Slowly, carefully, you force her lips to travel past your tip, and to reach halfway down your shaft. Her cheeks are concave and your palms can feel her slobbering. Once she reaches your base, her eyes are watering. She looks up at you, her dildo fucking faster, her lips tight. You pull on Heejin's hair to move her head up. She moans. Her whole body is trembling again. You slam her head back down.

"Heejin, I'm"—she moans—"about to"—she gags, a broken vibration around your cock, and she moans—"cum!"

Her gagging, however, only urges you more to fuck her throat with your cock. Heejin gags again, and her throat walls are clenching, and a whole bunch of spit comes out, drenching your balls. The last thing you feel before your mind fades is her final whine, lost to the whole of her universe. Your spasms return, your hips shake, and this time, you see her whole body tense up—finally you and Heejin cum together, with her dildo ramming her hole and your cock ramming her throat. She's squealing and squeaking while taking your cock down to her base again, her gagging more persistent. After all her fantasies, the real thing is so much hotter than your imagination, and your brain starts painting new pictures on instinct.

Pop.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit," she says.

Your cock twitches out spurts of your seed, coating her face. Her dildo has disappeared from her pussy.

"I'm, I'm sorry, about, um, being… a bit too rough," you say.

"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks. "Do you have, do you have any idea how fucking hard I came? God, and the cum you're firing in my throat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your cum is what gives life purpose."

You grin. "I'm glad you think that way. My cum was only alive because of your pretty little mouth, though."

Heejin licks up every streak and spurt.

You lie back down on her bed next to her. "Hey, uh, you… still owe me though."

"True," she says. "What do you want? Another oral service tomorrow?"

"Can't tomorrow. It's already one in the morning."

"Ah, fuck. Morning."

"It's fine." Your voice is meek. "Let's not do anything. For a while."

"What?"

"This is fun. And I'm sure we could come up with a million ways to jerk each other off with our hands and mouths and words. But, you were thinking it too, right? When you had that, that dildo inside of you. Fucking you. I mean, I don't, I really don't wanna pressure you, but I thought it'd be fun. You know. If we just held off of anything, sex, cumming, masturbating, all of that, and we just… wait. How about until your birthday?"

"What?! That's like, twenty days away."

"Exactly, once in a while we could do other stuff. Wouldn't it be fun to just get edged every day until then, waiting, anticipating, and when we finally do fuck, it'll be the best sex of our lives, the perfect present. I mean, you got yourself off plenty of times already. I bet you could go without a nut for a while."

"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"And vice versa, I guess."

Heejin grumbles. "Fuck. Fine. Deal. But no matter how much I tempt you, no matter how much you tempt me, we're not going to cum. We're gonna edge each other. No matter how hard I suck. No matter how hard you thrust."

"Deal."

You shake hands.

"Um, by the way," she says.

"What?"

"You, um, you're a pervert."

You sigh. "I know."

"But you're, um, you're a pretty nice guy. And smart. And hot. Okay, that's enough for your ego, goddammit."

"Keep going, you're gonna make me cum."

Heejin grins. "Oh, that's all it'll take, huh?"

You kiss.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You wake up on Saturday morning, having stayed the night at Heejin's place. The two of you have a breakfast of leftover ramyun, and you say goodbye at the door.

"Wait," she says. "Hold on. I forgot something."

You turn around. "What?"

Heejin kisses you. "Bye."

You return the kiss. "Bye."

You go home, and on Sunday, you wake up to a text from Heejin.

> morning. :)

You smile.

> Good morning.

You send her a picture of your cock, already hard in the morning. She sends a photo of her own pussy, spread open with her fingers. It's scintillating, dewy. Your cock twitches.

> morning wood?

> Yep.

> you know how bad i wanna suck that dick right now

> Yeah. I'm thinking about fucking your throat.

> godddddddd i love it when you say that shit

> Do you think you're gonna nut today?

> probably not. if i can't even last a weekend without cumming, i srsly need to reexamine my life

> lol. true. well, good luck.

> you too

You send a photo of your cock, with a drop of cum at your tip. It only took a token effort of stimulation to get a bead of pre-cum.

> wait were you fapping just now

> Yeah. Just a bit

> godddddd youre so bad

> Don't worry. I don't plan on cumming until it's inside you on your birthday :)

> fuck you

> I thought we were gonna save that for your birthday too :(

> shut up

You smile.

> I miss you.

> me too

> Next week. We can meet up. See how we're feeling about this whole thing. Maybe get dinner or something.

> like a date?

> Well, no dating. Obviously. Ground rules and all.

> "k fine. sounds good

> See you then <3

> yeah yeah whatever <3

You laugh. This is going to be fun.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Happy birthday to the best girl! Once again, this falls under my time-honored tradition of incomplete-but-complete-enough stories to post for some deadline, so I'm not bothering with crossposting (okay fine I am just too lazy).

#kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #loona smut #artms smut

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verstarppen · 1 year ago

Text

pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ] a/n; sorry for not posting i was planning the funeral for max's winning streak and mourning please excuse me ALSO THANK YOU FOR 250 FOLLOWERS I WOULD DIE FOR YOU ALL [ series masterlist ]

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yndeathtrooper escaped the after party for a walk

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spookyscaryscuderia the only people on earth who will leave THE EMMYS for a CHICKEN WRAP

alex_albon My invite didn't arrive it's fine guys

danielricciardo Mine neither yndeathtrooper pay the bill alex_albon YOU'RE A MILLIONAIRE yndeathtrooper BITCH YOU TOO

astongoatin i'm obsessed with them help me

verstappler DAMN IT the after party pics would've gone hard

monte_carlos_55 live laugh love y/nlando

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lando.jpg january

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oscarpiastri Oh the honor of being on a lando.jpg post

lando.jpg enjoy your 15 minutes of fame, mate

haas_shaker THE CAMERA PERSON???

sunbathepapaya the note :((((((((

wafflemango I can't believe I lived to witness Y/nlando make cookies live, what a time to be alive

maxmaxmaxsuper When was this?? What happened?? wafflemango Powder fight, choking on batter, Lando cut his finger THROUGH a strawberry, the oven gave out and they had to call the owner of the guest house because it wouldn't turn on. BUT THEY SURVIVED and apparently it tasted good maxmaxmaxsuper I'm convinced these people are not real

481_landoscar Everyone please pray for Oscar Piastri. He's not dead, just third wheeling.

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, pascalispunk and 4,592,102 others

starwars Something is coming. Something dark.

Meet # MorganElsbeth , # ShinHati and # HeraSyndulla. Experience the two-episode premiere of @ AhsokaOfficial, a Star Wars Original series, streaming August 23 only on @ DisneyPlus.

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pearlyricciardo ok but is y/n in those two episodes because im not watching otherwise

loleclerc y/n and lando did more marketing for this than any official account 💀💀

danielricciardo But will you be watching them with the star of the show? That's what I thought.

yndeathtrooper holy shit you're watching ahsoka with lars mikkelsen? danielricciardo I wish.

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mclaren Not long now, boys.⏳

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yndeathtrooper ay who's the guy on the right he's kinda cute

landonorris did you see this in a mirror like?? yndeathtrooper who are you

bellanorris CAN'T WAIT

sugarussell LET'S GO BOYS

stappenlover lando first win this year i'm calling it

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daniel3.jpg Took my kids shopping

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yn.jpg thank you father

daniel3.jpg Please don't call me that lando.jpg ur daughter calls me daddy too daniel3.jpg Why would you tell me this

maxverstappen1 Did you get me the yogurt

yn.jpg yes sir 🫡 lando.jpg don't """"sir"""" this loser maxverstappen1 You can repeat that after you pass me yn.jpg LMAOOOOOOO

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yndeathtrooper bye cool hotel sorry for the broken headboard

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goosestappen you broke what

typicallyleclerc YOU CAN'T WATERBOARD THIS INFORMATION OUT OF ME Y'ALL ARE STRONGER FR

chewie_gum mOOOM Y/N AND LANDO ARE BEING WILD ON SOCIAL MEDIA AGAIN

solorgana GET IT GET IT GET IT

landonorris i am speed

yndeathtroopers you're so funny landonorris i know mclaren We wish you were. landonorris what the fuck

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

taglist: @justdreamersdream @cha-hot @dl-yum @minkyungseokie @allywthsr (taglist is open!)

#🌟ln4 galaxy far far away #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #instagram au #social media au #f1 #f1 smau #lando norris #lando norris au #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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etheries1015 · 10 months ago

Text

Wishing you a happy birthday!

Featuring: General Lilia

General warnings: Gender Neutral reader

TW: None!

Being an orphan and of an unknown background, Lilia never really cared to know the true date of his birth. He didn't care to celebrate birthdays, simply for the fact that it becomes mundane and repetitive once you've lived long enough. He had a brief understanding that humans worked in an entirely different mindset, they treasured their short lives and often held grand celebrations to signify one year closer to their inevitable demise.

So the moment you had brought up the fact your birthday was that day, and you hadn't told him sooner, he seemingly brushed it off as if he hadn't cared for the notion. Little did you know, he was at an internal war with the values he thought he once had.

"I see." Lilia responded seemingly coldly, "And what age does that make you now?"

"(age)," You responded with a slight smile at his interest and widened eyes, "I know, compared to you i'm a baby, huh? I could be in my eighties and you'd still laugh at my 'lack of life experience.'" The general bit down his bottom lip and nodded, holding back commentary by grabbing his mask and heading towards the door of the cottage that you resided in. You noticed this uncomfortable shift in his demeanor, sighing slightly and retreating your playful banter.

"Off so soon..?" You asked with sadness in your voice, "I was hoping-"

"Don't," Lilia cut you off, "You are lucky I'm allowing you to stay here at all, human. Stay hidden, and remember that I..." He paused, seeing the sadness twinkle in your eyes tugged at his heart in ways he never thought he would feel. He hated the way you did that to him, he hated the feeling of butterflies with sharp wings fluttering in his stomach at those eyes, he hated the deep imbedded foreboding of betrayal for his people simply by sheltering you under his care.

Yet he also couldn't help but continue to test the waters and had found himself rather attached the past few months you resided with him.

"...I will return later," Lilia briskly murmured before closing the door, leaving you sighing helplessly at the kitchen table. It wasn't infrequent for the fae to act like this, you understood he had a major conflict of interest, and you couldn't blame his brash attitude. Yet there were days in which you wondered to yourself, when would he finally break out of that cold façade he placed?

The day quickly turned into night as you spent your day inside tending to your normal everyday hobbies. The clock ticked on and you could see stars begin to rise, with no sign of Lilia. This was not an uncommon occurrence, of course, he had spent days outside of the cottage fighting in a war you knew you should be siding with. None of that had truly mattered, though...you come to terms that Fae had souls just as sensitive and kind to the things around them as much as any human, the only difference was lifespan. With these thoughts in mind, laying in bed and wishing yourself a happy birthday you fell asleep.

Slumber did not last long for it seemed only a few minutes passed before you were awoken by strong hands that gently shook your shoulders. Your tired eyes blinked open to find a familiar figure looming over you, black hair with streaks of red surrounding you, much to your sleepy surprise. Once realizing you were awake, Lilia stood up and tugged your arm gently.

"Human, get up, I have something to show you," The general appearance was what you'd expect of someone fighting for their life, mud-streaked cheeks and disheveled hair, although Lilia always seemed to clean himself up before greeting you. Not this night, apparently. You rushed out of bed due to his urgent request, falling over one foot after the other to put on shoes and finding something quick to be decent in. This process seemed to annoy the man, for he sighed before grabbing one of his own jackets and draping it over your shoulders. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smile crawling onto your lips

"What's this?" You asked, "Taking me out all of the sudden, giving me your jacket to stay warm...what do you have planned, hmm?" Lilia raised his eyebrows in shock at your brazen response, a flustered shade of pink bursting upon his cheeks before turning his face away and complaining how long you were taking with your "drivel" and rushing out the door knowing you would be quick to follow. Laughing to yourself at how easy he could be to read, you made your way outside of the cottage. Lilia was leading you somewhere deep within the woods, while the greenery was all nice- you found yourself staring at him instead. The way he held onto your hand and led you through the forest with great understanding and no hesitance, how handsome he looked staring forward with such a serious face, and the way his hair flowed behind him with every confident stride left your heart melting at the sight.

"You're distracting," He suddenly said interrupting the silence, "Staring at me like that. Keep your guard up while we are outside," Although sounding cold per usual, your heart was warmed at the notion he cared to warn you out of worry for your well-being, for the forest in the Valley was not the safest place for a human such as yourself. Though, Lilias warm hand in yours reminded you just how far you've come, enough to trust him with your very life. You bit your tongue back from teasing him, for you weren't about to ruin what rare opportunity of affection he seems to be suddenly giving you.

The sound of feet against the leaves of the forest floor came to a halt, walking up the endless hill finally ceasing as he pulled you through the final stretch of trees to reveal a sight more beautiful than you could have imagined. Overhead you see a sea of forestry, with lights of soldier campfires scattered among them. You could see the castle, thinking to yourself if this is how Its beauty from afar enamoures you, you believed that seeing it up close must truly be a sight to behold. Lilia hid his smile, watching you with satisfaction at your reaction for something he has seen a hundred, no, thousands of times before. Yet something about seeing you there, staring out in the distance with such overwhelming love and fascination, he knew it was the first time he'd ever felt such complicated and confusing emotions. When you turned around to thank him, he held out a small box for you to open.

"What...what's this?" You asked, holding out your hands as he gently placed it on top of your palms. He bit his bottom lip, something you noticed he would often do when embarrassed, before turning his head away to look over the view ahead.

"Humans have very short life spans," Lilia started, "As a fae, outliving humans is simply...biology." Lilia took a seat, allowing his legs to dangle above the cliff, "Birthdays are not as important to us as they are to humans. But..." There was no mistaking the bright blush now dusted upon his cheeks, so vibrant you could see its glow even in the dark of the night where the stars and moon lit up you two.

"But I can't help but feel compelled to celebrate the day you were born, funnily enough. Its not much, you may be disappointed."

You unwrapped the messily done box, the bow strapping it together done disorderly yet the intent was still there. Opening the box you revealed a bracelet of acorns- neatly strung together. You couldn't suppress your smile, sitting next to the typically cold man and offering him a side hug, much to his dismay.

Yet he found himself allowing you to engulf him in an embrace, albeit grunting and grumbling with cheeks becoming rosier by the minute.

"I love it," you smiled, "Thank you, Lilia."

The general let out a soft sigh with a smile slowly creeping up to his lips, no longer resisting your hug. Although internally he screamed in protest, every fiber of his being begging to stop himself from falling deeper and deeper enthralled with this human he knew would not live past the time he even turned 250. Yet this moment, under the stars and the glow of the moonlight above, he found himself doing things he never thought he'd be doing, feeling emotions he thought would be lost in the field of battle, and saying things he never dreamed of saying to a human such as yourself.

"Happy birthday, (y/n). May your life be prosperous, and peace soon prevail."

Happy birthday @masquerade-of-misery !! I hope it wasn't ...TOO angsty for your tastes.... Happy 33 years though!! And many more years to come!! 💜💜

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcannons #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #general lilia #general lilia vanrouge

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Text

camp champ II n.charles x reader

had lots of reqs for some niamhy content so here we have a lil bit of angst and a lil bit of softness camp champ II n.charles x reader

"your missus is out of control man." you looked up from your book with an amused smile as ella collapsed into the bean bag beside you with an annoyed huff. "whats she done then?" you chuckled raising an eyebrow and snapping your book closed.

"she is refusing to get off the table tennis unless someone beats her and her ego's the size of australia!" ella groaned dragging her hands down her face, her head moving to thump into your lap.

you were all at base camp in the central coast of australia, riding out the high of your first win in the knock out rounds of the world cup. you had tomorrow off so most of the girls had made plans to spend the day together, almost the whole team staying up late still riddled with adrenaline from the victory.

"go sort her out, please!" ella begged, throwing her hands up into the air as alessia joined the two of you, annoyed scowl on her face. "niamh?" you asked, wincing as alessia nodded frantically, frown deepening as she crossed her arms.

"she smacked me with the paddle!" alessia accused, ella moving off of you to lay on top of her now as the two of them looked to you expectantly. "y/l/n!" you looked behind you before you could even say another word, millie, rachel and hempo all charging over now.

"mate your girlfrie-" rachel started angrily as you held up a hand, silencing their chatter. "yeah yeah, i'll sort her out." you sighed, having wanted to get a good start on your book tonight with niamhs attention elsewhere but clearly that was off the cards, your girlfriend apparently unable to be left alone without supervision.

"she's relentless!" "she's a bully man!" "she's annoyingly good at table tennis." "she's not even that good she just hits the shit out of it!" "i'd like to smack the shit out of her!"

"okay okay! i'm goin." you rolled your eyes as all five girls continued to talk at you, waving them off as they all sat together, your book tucked under your arm as you left, heading down toward the rec room.

as you entered the sight before you had you sighing, shaking your head unsurprised.

a few of your friends seemed to be lined up waiting for their turn, esme stepping up with a hesitant look and asking your girlfriend to go easy, niamhs smirk only growing as she sarcastically agreed.

you winced as esme served and niamh smashed the ball back, the blonde darting out of the way with a yelp, dropping her paddle to the floor as niamh cheered, pumping her fists.

she clearly couldn't but you quickly picked up the tense vibe in the room, the unimpressed scowls and closed off body language of your team mates even further proving the point the brunette was doing a tremendous job of isolating herself with her cockiness.

"niamhy." you approached the table, not missing the way esme sighed in relief at the sight of you and a few of your team mates mumbled to one another. "mm?" the girl didn't even look at you, instead egging esme on to serve.

"think its time we head up babe, its gettin late." you tried, a few of the girls backing you up as niamh waved it off. "nah i'll be up later. i'm on a winning streak, the camp champ is on a roll!” the older girl smirked happily as esme hesitantly served, niamh once again smashing it back at her as this time she attempted to hit it back but it went sailing into the net.

"niamhy come on, let someone else have a go now." you sighed, feeling as though you were scolding a greedy child rather than your fully grown twenty four year old girlfriend.

"thats not the rules love, if someone beats me they take my place. and so far they're a bunch of losers!" niamh grinned, again missing the unimpressed eye rolls of your friends, a couple more of the girls giving up with a mumble and wandering off.

"niamh you're acting like a five year old. you've been at this for hours now, share!" you rolled your eyes, the brunette finally meeting your gaze as you raised your eyebrows. "fine. you beat me, i give up and we go to bed." she challenged with a smirk, esme very happily offering you her paddle.

"go on, shut her up for once please!" jess all but begged quietly beside you as niamh shot her a look before her eyes returned to you as you sighed. "mind this please." you mumbled to esme, trading her your book for her paddle as her body all but crumpled in relief.

"hey! wheres my support?" your girlfriend scowled as the girls all cheered for you, again missing out on the fact she'd clearly rubbed them all the wrong way tonight as you tossed her the ball.

"i'll go easy on you baby." niamh smiled charmingly, twirling the ball inbetween her fingers as you rolled your eyes and gestured for her to serve.

true to her word she hit it with a hell of lot less force than she'd been whacking it at the rest of the girls tonight and the two of you got into a rally, attracting the attention of a few more members of the team.

niamhs frown deepened as again they all cheered you on, and you recognized the competitive look shift into her features as you took advantage of her slight dip in attention and managed to score a point.

"niamh." you warned as she huffed, readying for the serve. ignoring you she sent it your way with some force, your arm only just able to shoot out and make contact as the ball went skidding off beside you, smile now returning to her face as georgia handed you the ball back.

"hurry up!" the defender moaned impatiently as your eyes narrowed, rolling your shoulders and serving, again the two of you getting into a rally before your girlfriend smashed it and you ducked as it bounced over your head.

"steady on!" you scoffed with a glare as the brunette shrugged. "can't handle playing with the big girls then hand the paddle over babe." she smirked, infuriatingly attractive as she did but you refused to be enamored by her tonight.

"pardon?" you gave her a chance to apologize, a few of the girls whistling and pulling faces. "your serve." she grinned, bouncing the ball back to you as you rolled your eyes. "take it easy, this isn't the olympics."

"if it were i'd already be top of the podium with the gold."

you only sighed at her cockiness, serving to her and not even getting the chance for a rally as niamh's arm swung back and she connected with the ball, sending it hurtling into your cheek with a smack

you dropped the paddle and clutched your face with a hiss of pain as a couple of the girls hurried over to look you over with concerned frowns, a nasty red welt already forming as your girlfriend looked on in shock.

"niamh louise charles!" you roared angrily as she dropped the paddle to the floor, eyes filled with fear as your team mates parted not wanting to be in your way. "go!" you ordered pointing to the door as her head dropped and she sulked off, dragging her feet.

"fucking thank you!" lucy groaned in relief, taking her place as esme and jess fussed over you. "ill be fine, just a nice little shiner tomorrow." you sighed with a pained smile, collecting your book from the tall blonde and wishing her and jess goodnight, hugging a few of the girls on your way out.

it didn't surprise you to not find niamh waiting anywhere for you, the girl clearly having run away in fear after her actions, likely already practicing her apology in your shared room.

"woah what the hells happened to you?" millie and mary ducked into the elevator after you, headed up to their own rooms as millie grabbed your face turning it side to side. "niamh!" you huffed with a scowl.

"she hit you?" mary spat in disbelief, fists clenching by her sides. "yeah with the fucking table tennis ball!" you frowned as the goalkeeper let out a small sigh of relief and you pushed away millies large hands.

"are we still on for tomorrow?" you asked changing the subject, not missing the look shared between the two older girls as the elevator stopped on their floor first.

"not tomorrow, we all need a niamh break she's been insufferable with her bloody table tennis and her attitude!" millie answered as the two of them stepped out and you stopped the door with your foot.

"what! why am i being punished for that?" you frowned as mary squeezed your cheek apologetically. "guilty by association. where you go, she goes. sorry!" and with that they were off toward their own rooms ignoring your calls after them.

your mood now somehow worse with your girlfriend having no idea what was coming to her you brooded silently in the elevator, marching to your room as the doors opened.

sure enough as you stepped inside her head snapped up, having already changed into more comfier clothes. she opened her mouth to speak but you didn't give her the chance, and she winced as the bathroom door slammed shut.

a hot shower helped to ease your anger a little, annoyed not only at the stinging tenderness of your cheek but also that your plans for your day off tomorrow had been tanked for a reason you couldn't even help or control.

normally had you stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel the taller girl would be on you within a second, showering you with cheesy compliments and attacking your lips feverishly with hers.

but you were instead met with a tense silence as you hunted about in your case for clothes, slipping on a pair of nike shorts and a large faded harley davidson tee you'd worn to death and back, always stealing it back from niamh whose closet it just so happened to accidentally appear in.

you felt a tap on your shoulder as you grabbed out your hair brush, glancing over to see your girlfriend offering you up her favorite hoodie with a hopeful look, you not having spent a single night all tournament not sleeping in it.

which is why she realized just how badly she'd messed up as you turned back around wordlessly, grabbing a jumper of your own and slipping it on, ignoring her completely.

as you brushed out the tangles in your hair you made your way around to the other bed, neatly made and so far untouched, you and your girlfriend having only slept together in the other bed which niamh was currently perched on.

you pulled back the covers cringing silently at the unrustled sheets but getting in none the less, punching your pillow a few times to soften it up and getting comfortable, placing your brush down on the bedside table.

your back now facing her niamh sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as you busied yourself with your phone, still ignoring her completely not having said a word since you'd entered the room around an hour ago, and it was killing her.

she waited a few more minutes, ticking things over in her head and going to use the toilet, flicking off the light sending the room into a dim darkness, only illuminated by the lamp on her side and the blue light of your phone.

you weren't surprised to feel the bed dip behind you, an all too familiar hand landing hesitantly on your side. "baby-" she started softly as you pushed her hand away with a huff. "i think i'd rather you yell at me and bite my head off than ignore me much longer." niamh admitted honestly with a frown as you resisted the urge to meet her eyes.

"which is exactly why i have been ignoring you." you mumbled, the defender perking up just slightly at the sound of your voice. "baby, beautiful girl, love of my life, keeper of my heart, owner of-" she started to grovel, eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.

"this is one situation that cheap flattery and cute nicknames will not get out out of charles." you warned sharply as her words fell short and she sighed.

"love i am so so sorry i got carried away. i lost my head and i was an arrogant cocky idiot, and unfortunately you were the collateral and i can't apologise enough. please!" she apologised with hopeful eyes as you sighed, dropping your phone onto the table and turning onto your back.

"thats one word for it!" you pointed to your cheek, finally meeting her gaze as the taller girl winced. "i'm so sorry baby, really. i can't say it enough!" she mumbled, leaning down to gently grab your chin, turning your head slightly and inspecing the fast forming bruise.

you stayed silent as she pressed a few very cautious kisses to the tender skin, running over it with her thumb as her eyebrows knitted together into a concerned frown. "if its still sore tomorrow i'm taking you to the medics to get it looked at." she stated more than asked.

"mary thought you hit me." you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as niamh's eyes widened in shock. "what? i would never ever! does she still think that? oh my god she's going to kill me." the defender squeaked in sheer terror as a small smile formed on your face.

"no i told her the only thing you assaulted me with was a stupid plastic ball." you sighed as she breathed out in relief, continually muttering her gratitude. "but your behaviour means i am now suffering the consequences in more ways than one!" you sat up a little more and fixed her with a glare.

"what'd ya mean love?" she frowned confused at your words. "you may been too thick to have picked up on it but your little i'm a superstar at table tennis routine has ruffled a lot of feathers niamhy, you have made some friends turn into enemies!" you warned seriously, poking at her shoulder.

"maybe i have been a little bit much." she admitted quietly with a sheepish wince and you only hummed. "and now because of that no one will let me hang out with them tomorrow because they all need and i quote 'a niamh break'." you bent your fingers sarcastically as her eyes widened.

"a what?" "yeah! i had plans and now they're ruined and its all your fault. dickhead!" you kicked her lightly from under the covers with a huff.

"m'sorry baby." she apologized sincerely, opening her arms hopefully as you hesitated for a moment before giving in with a sigh, shuffling over and melting into them.

you breathed in the scent of her body wash feeling a familiar sense of calm settle over you as she squeezed you tightly, laying the two of you back down as you got properly comfortable, your head tucked into her neck.

"how about instead i take you on a date tomorrow? a proper one. i'll organise everything!" she asked softly, glancing down at you hopefully as you nodded. "i think thats the least you can do. and you'll apologise to all of the girls at breakfast tomorrow!" you warned as she eagerly agreed.

"i promise i'll fix everything tomorrow and take you on the best australian date you'll ever have. may i have a kiss now please?" she asked with a small pout as you rolled your eyes, lifting your chin up as she met your mouth halfway.

the last few drops of your animosity and anger toward the defender melted away at the blissful feeling of her lips moving against yours, her hands on the small of your back flushing your bodies as close together as she could as you hooked one leg over her hips, moving on top of her.

the brunette sighed happily as you straddled her, tangling your hands in her hair and scratching at her scalp sending a slight shiver down her spine as her own hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging in and likely leaving a small bruise as she swiped her tongue across your bottom lip quickly taking control of the kiss.

now you sighed in pleasure as her tongue roamed your mouth, hands moving your hips to rock against her slightly as your forehead pressed to her shoulder and she broke the kiss, lips focusing now on your neck as one hand moved to brush your hair out of the way and nudging your head to the side giving her a little more room to work with.

“baby i’m so sorry but can we please move to the other bed? this is so stiff and weird it’s killing me!” she broke away with a guilty smile as you couldn’t help but laugh quietly, unable to disagree as the two of you quickly moved back into your regular bed, taking up your normal positions.

“cuddles and back scratches please baby.” niamh requested tiredly after she’d flicked off the lamp, shuffling her taller body around to press into you just how she liked making you smile.

“back scratches.” she mumbled again, taking your hand and dropping it on her back as she pressed a few lazy kisses to your jaw, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as your nails raked gently up and down her back.

“my needy niamhy.” you teased softly, affectionally kissing her forehead as she whined, pinching your leg for the nickname, eyes already squeezed shut and you knew it wasn’t long before she’d drift off, having done this little routine with her for years now.

“stop teasing me, i just love you and i wanna be all up and close to you.” she grumbled grumpily, squeezing you tightly to prove her point.

“sorry baby. camp champ just needs her cuddles, hm?”

#niamh charles #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #niamh charles x reader #woso #woso blurbs #engwnt

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mxtantrights · 6 months ago

Note

Maybe AK Jason or another jay? If you're comfortable with writing it ofc! I was thinking maybe a sidekick like reader but also they have a relationship?

a/n: okay I do wanna say that I don't have too much knowledge on Arkham Jason. I just know from what I see in other people's fics. so this isn't heavy on the AK Jason, more neutral but you can take it and fill in the gaps as you want! <33 thanks for sending it in anon!! <333

you didn't mean to say it. Really, it was just a slip of the tongue. And you have a sweet tooth. But you didn't really think this was how you're night was going to go.

Because now, right now, Red Hood is buying you and him ice cream. It doesn't help that the seller is an old man who is smiley as can be about the whole situation. It's like he doesn't know who red hood is and what he does in this city, but he as to know. Apparently he's owned this coffee shop for thirty years.

Red Hood hands the man cash and the man hands you your cone, and Red his. You take it and thank the man. And fairly quickly you and Jason are out of the door...

"How are we gonna eat this?" you ask.

He looks at you for a beat. Then he tilts his head at you.

"The masks, red." you clarify your earlier question.

"Oh right, well I just thought we'd take them off to eat. Like normal people. Yo are normal under there, right?" he jokes with you.

You laugh, "Almost as normal as you."

"Is it weird that we've worked together for three years and never seen each other's faces?" Red asks you.

You reach up and pull the hood off, and then take your domino mask off.

"I've shown you mine..." you trail off.

Red hood takes the hint and is removing his helmet- he has jet black hair. You never really thought about how his hair would look. Then his domino mask, and you realize how fucked you are. You're screwed.

"You're prettier than I imagined." Jason says.

Your eyes widen, "You think I'm pretty?"

"Amongst other things, like being a pain in my side." Jason answers.

You clear your throat and take a lick of your ice cream. Then you look him over again. White streak of hair. A bit of a cowl, but he has the wrinkles on the sides of his mouth like he does smile from time to time. Pecs. Thighs. Yeah, you're screwed for sure. This specimen of a man just brought you ice cream on a whim.

"Eat your ice cream, it's gonna melt." you order him.

He smiles, "Yes ma'am. You know I could get used to taking orders from you."

Yeah you're down bad.

#dc x reader #dc imagine #dc blurbs #Jason todd blurb #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd #dc

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soulaires · 1 year ago

Text

Love Dilemma.

pairings: Aaron Warner x f!reader

summary: in which your daughter thinks your name is ‘love’ because apparently your husband has been calling you that.

warnings: fluff, crack, dad!aaron warner, use of y/n, ooc(?) warner, soft aaron warner.

« words: 1,304 ┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🪩:: voicemail; read my other aaron warner fics here.

authors note: it’s here!! This is not proofread and English is not my first language so excuse it!! Also I think baby Dior would call her daddy “Aaron” sometimes 🥹

You have a problem.

And this time, it’s not about kenji but it’s about your daughter, dior.

dior, your five-year-old bundle of joy, had somehow gotten it into her head that her mother's name was 'Love.' It was all Aaron's fault, really. He had a habit of calling you 'Love' ever since, and somehow, your daughter had decided to take it quite literally.

One sunny morning, You and Aaron were in the kitchen, cooking pancakes, while your husband is hugging you from behind, face buried into your neck. dior bounded in, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. "Love, can we have pancakes today?"

Y/N nearly dropped the pancake batter. She turned to her daughter, trying to suppress a giggle. "Of course, sweetheart. Pancakes it is."

dior clapped her hands in delight. "Yay! Love makes the best pancakes!"

Meanwhile, Aaron who heard the conversation couldn't help but laugh. "You're right, princess. Love does make the best pancakes."

And so, the nickname 'Love' continued to stick. dior began using it with alarming regularity. She'd call out "Love, I'm hungry!" when she wanted a snack, or "Love, can you help me tie my shoelaces?" when she needed assistance.

You and Aaron had a good laugh about it, and they couldn't bring themselves to correct her. It was just too adorable. You guys always reasoned that she'd grow out of it soon enough.

But dior's idea of her mother's name wasn't limited to just your home.

dior's school project on family portraits was approaching, and she was brimming with excitement. She couldn't wait to draw her family and proudly display it in her classroom. A

Your husband had helped her gather all the art supplies she needed, from colored pencils to a large sheet of drawing paper.

As your daughter sat at the kitchen table with her art supplies scattered around her, Aaron watched his daughter with a warm smile. "Princess, are you ready to start your family portrait?"

dior nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with determination. "Yes, daddy!"

You leaned over to kiss dior's forehead. "Remember to write 'Mommy' for me."

dior frowned, her brows furrowed in concentration. "But Mommy, Daddy calls you 'Love.' Shouldn't I put that?”

You chuckled softly, touched by her daughter's innocence. "Well, it's true that Daddy calls me 'Love,' but for your school project, you should use 'Mommy,' okay?"

dior hesitated for a moment, torn between her father's endearing nickname and her mother's request. Finally, she nodded with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Okay, Mommy!"

With that, she set to work on her family portrait. As her colorful imagination flowed onto the paper, she meticulously drew each family member. Aaron's beaming smile, dior's pigtails, and their pet dog curled up in a cozy corner. But when she came to draw Y/N, she paused, her pencil hovering over the paper.

After a moment of contemplation, she couldn't resist her inner mischievous streak. She wrote 'Love' beneath the drawing of her mother instead of 'Mommy.'

dior stepped back to admire her masterpiece, her face glowing with pride. "There, it's done, daddy!"

You peered over your husband's shoulder at the drawing, your eyes widening in surprise. Instead of 'Mommy,' you saw the word 'Love' elegantly written beneath the figure that was unmistakably her. You and Aaron couldn't help but burst into laughter, both surprised and amused by your daughter's antics.

"dior, you little rascal," you chuckled, giving your daughter a playful nudge. "You just couldn't resist, could you?"

dior giggled mischievously, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I thought it was the perfect name for you, Mommy."

Aaron hugged his daughter tightly, unable to contain his laughter. "You know what, sweetheart? I think it's perfect, too."

And so, dior's family portrait proudly displayed the name 'Love' beneath her mother's figure when it was showcased at school. When her classmates asked about it, she simply explained, "That's my mommy, but we like to call her 'Love' sometimes."

And that leads her teacher to call you.

You guys received a call from her preschool teacher. "Mrs. Warner," she began, "dior has been insisting that your name is 'Love' in class. Is there something we should know?"

feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, can’t form some words to say so you let your husband explain the situation to the teacher.

"It's just a little mix-up. She thinks my wife’s name is 'Love' because her daddy calls her mommy that."

The teacher chuckled. "Well, it's quite sweet, but you guys should try to correct her. We wouldn't want her to get confused."

"Of course," You finally spoke up, agreeing, though you knew it wouldn't be easy.

That evening, Aaron tried to gently correct dior. "Baby, you know Mommy's real name is not 'Love,' right?”

dior looked up with her big, innocent eyes, puzzled. "But Daddy, you call you mommy 'Love,' Why can't I?"

You heard your husband sighed, realizing it was a battle he couldn't win especially with her using her cute puppy dog eyes. Aaron looked at you for help, and you chuckled softly.

"Okay, you can call me 'Love' if you want, but just remember, my real name is 'Y/N.' Or you can call me ‘mommy’"

Your daughter nodded, seeming satisfied with the compromise. "Okay, Love."

You and Aaron couldn't help but smile at your daughter's stubbornness. You guys decided to let it go for now and see how long this phase would last.

As weeks turned into months, dior's nickname for her mother only grew more endearing. She would say things like, "Love, can you read me a bedtime story?" or "Love, can we go to the park today?" It had become a running joke in your household, and even your friends found it amusing.

One evening, you invited your friends, kenji and Juliette, over for dinner. Kenji, being kenji, couldn't resist teasing you about his newfound moniker. "So, Love, what's on the menu tonight?"

You chuckled, setting the salad on the table. "Well, Love has prepared a special meal for you all."

Juliette joined in, a mischievous grin on her face. "Love, you've really outdone yourself with this dinner."

You and Aaron exchanged amused glances, and you all shared a hearty laugh.

As You and Aaron settled into your cozy shared bedroom one evening, ready to end the day and drift off to sleep, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of contentment. You guys had just finished reading a bedtime story to dior and tucked her in, and now it was time for some much-needed rest.

As You pulled the covers over yourself and snuggled into your side of the bed, Aaron couldn't resist a mischievous grin. "Well, Love, are you ready for a good night's sleep?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Aaron, you just can't resist, can you?"

He chuckled, his eyes filled with playful mischief. "Well, you know, now that everyone calls you 'Love,' I have to make sure you remember who you belong to. You're my love."

You playfully swatted his arm, heart warming at his affectionate teasing. "Oh, really? I thought I belonged to baby dior now."

Aaron, feeling playfully betrayed, put on an exaggerated pout.

"What? My own daughter's stealing my 'Love'? That's it, I'm going to sell her toys."

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. You leaned over to give him a gentle kiss. "Oh my god, don’t. She will cry and gonna start calling you ‘Aaron’ now"

His pout dissolved into a grin as he wrapped his arms around you. "Just like her mother, calling me Aaron when mad." He teased, Kissing your forehead he can’t help but smile widely.

He loves you so much.

He loves you and his princess.

His two best girls.

No one’s gonna take this away from him.

Or else everything’s gonna be burned down.

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @aishaleblanc

#aaron warner #reader insert #aaron warner x reader #shatter me #shatter me series #aaron warner x you #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner x y/n #riewrites 🫀#dad!aaron warner #shatter me x reader #The Warner Family 🪐

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billthedrake · 7 months ago

Text

MY SON THE PORN STAR (PART FIVE)

I tried not to go wild. I still was married and still had my normal corporate guy life in Kansas City.

But doing porn turned out to be addictive. It was the combination of a deep exhibitionist streak I was discovering in myself and the access to incredibly hot men willing to suck me or get fucked by my big tool. It made me feel like a total stud... less middle-aged, I guess.

And work trips were the perfect cover. I really was doing the road warrior thing for my company, so I wasn't lying to Kate THAT much. But I did sometimes add a night to my travels.

Like the week after Easter. I had a business trip to Denver, but I added an extra evening and squeezed in a quick connector flight to San Francisco on my dime with miles. Muscle Pup Mike, my son's friend and escort/pornstar buddy, set me up with a versatile OnlyFans star there. I shot two scenes with him, actually, one oral, one with me masked as we had a nice, long 50-minute fuck scene. I didn't feel a deep chemistry with Kevin, aka "Jeff Reed," but I felt a deep chemistry with the two cameras that were on us. Besides, sex with a muscular 28-year-old hunk was hard to beat.

Turns out, the next night would beat it. I flew to Denver bright and early in the morning and had my sales meeting all day. I was rolling my business-style carry on into my hotel room right around dinner. I undid my tie and sat down to unlace my shoes before calling Kate to check in.

Yeah, I felt pretty bad knowing I was stepping out behind her back. I'd deal with that guilt later. Either stopping porn cold turkey or making a break or separation with my wife. At this point I wasn't ready to do either.

I wasn't a frequent poster, but managed a video every 2-3 weeks. And I had a growing following of fans willing to pay a modest subscription for just that. Sure, I got some comments complaining that I never took my mask off, but apparently I had the body and blond-furred looks a lot of guys went for. And my cock size helped - a lot. I was careful about not talking on camera, or I just edited those parts out, but I'd learned to be verbal with my grunts, to show appreciation for my sucker/bottom and to let viewers get that thrill. It worked.

I sat, alone in that quiet hotel room, thinking just how wild my double life had become, and I fiddled with my phone again. Chicago was an hour ahead and now would probably be a good time to call. I pulled up Travis's contact and FaceTimed him.

"Hey Dad," my son greeted.

"Hey," I said, leaning back and feeling my boner ride up in the crotch of my trousers. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, I hope?"

"Nah," he said. "Just getting back from the gym." Indeed, he had a workout zip-up on and I could see the familiar kitchen from his condo in the back.

"All sweaty?" I teased.

That got a laugh out of my son. He was surprised how horny I was sometimes, how much I'd leaned into this weird affair we had going on. "Something like that. How'd your shoot go?"

"Real well," I replied. "Kevin is a real professional. Made it easy."

"Just a professional?" Travis asked, with a teasing smile on his cute face.

"Just fucking," I said. "Not a ton of chemistry, I'm afraid, but I think I got some good footage for the next two vids." I'd always sent Travis the digital files via encryption, and he did the editing magic on the material. As amazing as my son was at being on-screen talent, he also had a knack for making great porn behind the camera.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dad," he said. "But I think you're a natural adult performer."

I smiled. "Is that what the kids call it?" I joked.

That made my son laugh. I loved seeing and hearing his laugh. "OK... you're a natural porn star, Dad.... You know, it's really hot to say that. I get so hard watching you perform, you know."

My throat got dry. Travis knew how to work me up. "Jesus, Trav. You have no idea how much I've watched your videos."

That made my son laugh again, those dimples forming. "I have a pretty good idea, Dad. You've told me before."

"I lied," I teased. "I figured if I told you the real number, you'd get freaked out."

"Turned on is more like it, Dad," Travis said. "Why don't you show me how much you like em. You hard now?"

"Rock hard," I said. I turned the phone down to show off the rod forming a ridge in my trousers.

"Fuck," Travis hissed. "My dad has a real porn star dick. I have a shoot in a couple of hours. I'll definitely be thinking of your cock."

"Who's it with?" I asked. This was the wild phase Trav and I were at now. Father and son, lovers, flirts, and professional colleagues in the adult entertainment business.

"Bud and Spike," he said. I recognized the screen names of two muscle daddies from Dallas, into the more hardcore stuff.

I made a wince of an expression. "Go easy with those guys, buddy," I said. "For real." I felt strangely protective of my son. Which was weird, because in general he was the one looking out for me as I began doing porn more regularly.

Travis smiled. "I will, Dad. Promise. We're planning a more vanilla scene than they normally do." He gave me a wink. "Listen, I gotta go get ready, actually."

"All right, buddy," I said. I wished we had time for some phone sex because just talking to Travis was turning me on big time. "I can't wait to see your scene. And I'll be in Chicago in a couple of weeks. We'll catch up then, OK?"

"You bet, Dad," he said. "Love ya."

"Love ya, too, Big Guy."

We hung up.

I let out a hiss of air. I was horny now. Turns out "Jeff Reed" hadn't drained me. I did have a back up idea. There was some University of Colorado kid who'd been emailing me on the anon account Travis set up for me and linked to my OnlyFans. Call me a narcissist, but I'd been eating up the fan mail, and something about this college dude Bryan won me over. Maybe it was the pics he sent. Cute as fuck, brown haired, boy-next-door looks. And the nude pics that showed a surprisingly built body for a college kid - either a jock or someone who hit the college gym regularly. Smooth body with just a dusting of a treasure trail, creamy white skin, washboard abs, hard cock, amazing bubble ass.

Or maybe it was the request that I hit him up if I was ever in the Denver area.

So far I'd only done pro-amateur porn stars in the OF circuit my son and MusclePup Mike worked in. Some of it was the self-justification that it wasn't fully emotional cheating, just porn I was doing. Some of it was caution. All the arrangements went through Mike and because of my mask, no one knew my identity.

But I was horny now and sent this Bryan kid a message. I didn't expect a reply, but it was worth a shot. I set down my phone and undressed to take a quick shower. It was only 6:30, but it had been a long day.

There was a message waiting for me. "God yes, man," Bryan wrote. "I could be there in about an hour and a half," he wrote. Then almost nervously, there was a follow up. "God, I must seem overly eager. But fuck you're so hot. Let me know what works for you."

"How bout 8:30?" I typed back and gave my hotel name and room number. I wanted to get some food in me.

"Awesome. Yeah. See you soon," came the almost immediate reply.

I had only business casual clothes packed, so I got dressed to grab a bite at a restaurant near my hotel. I got back to my room with about ten minutes to spare. I brushed my teeth and checked my appearance in the mirror. I wasn't crazy about getting older, I had to admit, but I could see the "DILF" look that Travis and Mike were always raving about. Well-preserved was the expression, I suppose.

I was actually a little nervous when I heard the knock. I had no business fooling around with a guy like this. Not making a porn vid but actually having a cheating hook up. The messed up thing is that most guys would consider the videos a worse infraction, but this felt naughtier in a way.

Bryan looked great. Better than great. He was cuter than his pictures, and I think his nerves made him more attractive to me. He forced a smile but was shaking.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I smiled. "Come in, bud."

He was shorter than me, and his size made his collegiate muscle look more compact on his build. Maybe not collegiate wrestler exactly, but definitely that wrestler body type. A little thick, even. MusclePup Mike would have called him a twunk.

"I didn't know what you'd look like," Bryan said softly. His gray eyes were taking me in.

I remembered now he'd never seen me outside of my videos, all masked up. "You came over anyway," I observed.

"Oh yeah," he enthused. "You're my favorite porn star, hands down." He blushed but didn't stop gushing. "You probably know this... I guess most guys don't pay to watch your videos, but I subscribed to your site so I could email you."

"For real?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Bryan replied, that nervous smile growing bigger. "You're not on Twitter or Insta," he explained. His eyes swept up and down my frame. "God, you're even hotter in person. I knew you'd be hot, but... wow."

I was eating up his flattery. "You're not so bad yourself, buddy... bring it in..." I held up my arms to gesture him to come in for a kiss. He did. He was nervous and that turned me on for some reason. But once we started making out, Bryan got real into it, meeting my tongue with his, before practically sucking me into his mouth.

His hands were feeling it up, tentatively at first, then all over. He chuckled as he pulled back so he could feel me up better. I stood there and let his hands roam over my button-down shirt and the gym-toned muscle underneath. At that moment I was VERY glad for the personal trainer Travis set me up with.

"I hope you don't mind my saying," Bryan said, "But it's so wild to be with a porn star."

"Don't mind at all, buddy," I hissed. I was now experiencing the other thrill of doing porn. I knew I was into the exhibitionism of it all, but now I was feeling the hero worshop, the adoration of a young guy like this. I was rock hard.

He gulped as I reached down to undo my khakis, unzipping them and reaching in to haul out my dong. "I guess you really like my cock, then, huh?" I growled.

This wasn't me. At least it wasn't Brad Connors. Married father of three. Road warrior corporate guy. But being MaskedDaddy gave me the sexual confidence and freedom to be someone else.

"Fuck yeah," Bryan gasped as he saw my prick. "That cock's so fucking big..." His eyes were wide, taking in my size before he looked up at me. "OK, if I touch it?"

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, buddy," I said. "That's why you came over isn't it?"

He nodded, like a chastised kid. Then tentatively he stepped in again and reached forward, like he was afraid of being branded by a hot poker. But once his fingers made contact, the hesitation was gone. The college dude circled his fingers and round me, griping my hardon and gently stroking a couple inches of it to get a feel of the girth and heft. "You don't know how much I've jerked off to your videos," he said. "I wasn't gonna admit to that you, but fuck...." His voice was heavy in his ragged breathing but still had that frat-bro collegiate kind of tone.

"I think we talked about you sucking that dick," I grunted. In our texts, Bryan had offered a blow job, and his presence now was making me really want this. In a surprising way, his realness was making me click with the college kid more than I did with a megahot porn star. Maybe it was the opposite of what Bryan was feeling, where he was living out his porn dream.

"Yeah," he nodded. But he gave me a sheepish shrug. "I, um, don't have a lot of experience."

I patted his cheek. "Give it your best, bud. Please. Daddy's really fucking horny." Yep, this was porn me talking, but it was the magic words for Bryan, who couldn't get down on his knees fast enough.

The young stud actually whimpered as he pulled my dick to his face and began licking it. It was slobbery and impetuous, and his attempt to take me into mouth was more urgent than skilled.

"Easy, buddy..." I urged as he choked a little on my size. "Daddy's got a big cock... take your time."

He nodded and moaned around my prick, flashing those gray eyes up, a little teary. Fuck.

I wouldn't say he got the hang of, but he got a lot more comfortable. Slowly, he sucked me, a few inches at a time, working up the focus to get an extra one back into his throat. The young dude was so excited to blow me, and I was loving this. Slowly I stroked his hair and encouraged him. "That's it, sport... you don't need the training wheels do ya? You go right for the big ones. OH FUCK, that feels nice."

"Yeah?" Bryan asked as he spit out my cock and swallowed the excess spit. I could tell he wanted to make sure he was sucking me right, but more than that he struck me as a young man who craved positive feedback in sex.

"You're doing great, buddy," I said.

There was something about this connection which was night and day different than "Jeff Reed." Bryan was a real guy, a college stud eager for me and not just playing out sex for the camera. And yet...

"You interested in filming this, Bryan? It's SO hot to watch you, buddy."

I could see two reactions in his face at once. A fearful shock at the idea. And an excitement to even consider it. "Oh man," he responded, not giving me a hint which one was the bigger emotion.

I slowly stroked my rod in front of his face, working in his spit over my dong and letting it get steel hard for his gaze. I had toyed with using viagra for my shoots, but even with my size I didn't have an issue getting real hard erections like this. I just loved sex too much.

"If it helps, I packed a spare mask," I offered.

Maybe another dude would have wondered why I had a mask with me, much less more than one mask. But Bryan had been used to seeing me in one, so maybe it just seemed normal to him.

"This is crazy," he said, his fearful look breaking into a smile.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked, gently tapping his cheek with my dong.

"Yes," he muttered excitedly before taking ne into his mouth once more.

I let him work me for a few seconds then pulled back. I went to my carryon back and retrieved the masks. I wouldn't need one, I suppose, but I tossed both over Bryan's way while I got my portable tripod, a compact digital camera, and a spare cameraphone, an old Iphone I used for extra handheld footage.

I was worried I was killing the mood setting everything up and fiddling with the lights. But I loved shooting porn, and if anything my dick was harder in anticipation with shooting a different kind of scene. Me with an amateur costar. Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced I just knew this would be a hot video. And if not, I'd enjoy jerking off to it.

Fortunately, Bryan seemed excited too. I could see the excitement in his eyes, even behind the mask. He'd taken his shirt off, maybe to be less identifiable but was on his knees still, hands braced on his thighs. "I can't believe I'm going to be in one of your vids," he said. Yeah, the dude was into this.

I sauntered back, my dick leading the way. "If you're not comfortable with the results, we don't have to post anything," I said, remembering how important that veto power was for my comfort level for my first vid with my son. "Otherwise, I'll take this as your consent."

"Got it," he nodded.

The second his lips touched my prick again, I let out a gasp. He looked up at me, excited, and I took in his green eyes looking up through the mask holes. I pointed the phone camera at him to capture that. I wasn't gonna shoot that angle the whole time, since I preferred to enjoy getting head instead of playing cameraman the whole time. But the snapshots of him looking up would add to the effect.

Bryan's technique wasn't better this time, but his enthusiasm had tripled, at least. I set down the phone and eased my stance back, my posture upright. I was still in my business casual attire as this horny college kid blew me. I urged him to go slower at first with a quick deep grunt.

I heard the guy moan around my meat as something relaxed in his throat and he was able to more steadily take more of my dong into his throat. Working me up and down, I reached behind his head and massaged his scalp through the mask, gently urging him deeper.

"Yes," I choked in response. "Suck me." I'd gotten pretty good at deguising my voice. Using my porn voice. "Suck Daddy."

That did it. Bryan pulled off for a quick breath, then descended all the way down. I'm a big guy, and even some of the OnlyFans studs had a hard time swallowing my sword. But they weren't feeling the crazy sexual thrill this kid was.

He held a second then it was too much, and he pulled off with a sputtering cough. I could see his eyes watering even through the mask holes.

"Sorry," he breathed, as he tried to regain composure.

"It's OK... take your time," I said in my normal voice. Travis would have to edit that out. All for the best. I gave Bryan a second to catch his breath and then I leaned down and met him for a sensual kiss.

"You're doing real good," I said. Then leaning up, I offered my hard dong again. It had gone down a little, but was still pretty heavy. "Ready for more?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his gray eyes looking back up at me.

His mouth on me got me rock hard once more. I pulled out some to let the camera catch my full hardon, then pushed back in between his wet lips. Bryan was novice, but that was OK. I was turned on from a change of pace from the OnlyFans dudes. This was a real guy, young and eager. I let him suck and get into sucking.

"Yeah," I grunted, I ran my fingers through his hair again and took the chance to push him down on my meat some more.

Byran was up for the challenge. He grunted around my prick but his throat relaxed and swallowed more of my thickness.

I started cumming. I wanted to ride out the orgasm in his college kid's throat but instead I pulled out and shot a couple of jets onto his mask and his lips before pushing back in just a few inches to let him suckle the remaining dribbles of semen.

I caught my breath a half second then picked up the cameraphone again. I hadn't taken too much handheld footage, so now I got a good view of Bryan slurping on my sated meat, licking up and down and outright worshipping my cock. Thankfully I wasn't too sensitive after nutting, and even if I lost a little of my rigidity, my dick kept a heavy firm meatiness that looked good.

I finally pulled back and turned both cameras off. "You were amazing, buddy," I said with a smile.

Already Bryan was pulling his mask off. I was glad. The guy was real fucking cute. "Dream come true for me," he said.

I could tell he was still horned up and at full sexual arousal from servicing me. "Get on the bed, kiddo," I urged. "Lie back."

He didn't seem to know what was going on but he complied. His body was shaking some as I undid his jeans and yanked them down.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked with some apprehension. Still he raised each leg to let me pull off his jeans. And his boxers showed a thick boner beneath the cotton.

"Your turn to get off," I said, not really answering his question.

Still, Bryan nodded and hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers to slide them down. I let him take them off as I stepped into the bathroom to get lube out of my toiletties bag.

Bryan was now lying back on the bed, fully naked, his creamy white muscle looking even better than I anticipated now that he was stripped nude.

"You an athlete?" I asked as I flipped open the cap on the lube.

Bryan's eyes were nervously only the lube. I think I knew what he was worried about, and a part of me enjoyed playing with his nervousness. I'll give him credit, he put on a brave face as his eyes met mine to answer me. "Yeah. Wrestling.""

My guess had been spot on. "It shows," I said. "You have an amazing body."

"Thanks," he said, watching me get on the bed, me making a show of drizzling some lube on his hardon. His dick twitched, untouched, he was so turned on. "You have more the football build."

"Baseball was my sport," I answered. "And golf. But my trainer has helped me bulk up."

"You're my fantasy," he said softly. "The whole package. None of the guys know I'm into this, though." I could read in his face that he wasn't sure if he should be getting emotionally open like this.

I patted his thigh and set down the lube on the night stand with my other hand. I was fully dress, with my cock sticking out of the fly of my khakis still. I wasn't sure I wanted to get off again, but I knew I could. Bryan was hot as fuck, and I was grooving on his clear attraction to me.

"A shame," I winked, trying to make the conversation sexy again. "Maybe you could have some fun. With you coach, too."

That got a laugh from him. Bryan had a sexy smile. "I've definitely thought of Coach. A lot."

I rubbed his legs some more more, outright caressing them now. His quads were solid as fuck, hard brawn that contrasted with the soft collegiate fur. I copped a feel of his ball sac, lightly haired and ran my fingers up the lubey length of his shaft.

"Lift your legs, bud," I urged, my tone friendly even as my words were commanding.

He got that deer in the headlights look. "I've never done this," Bryan said softly.

I had a good idea what he meant. "You a virgin?" I asked. My eyes doing their best friendly look I could manage as I played with his hard dick and his balls. Not stroking him, more exploring his rigid younger dick. Getting him excited to play more.

"For fucking, yeah..." he replied. "Sorry."

I don't think I realized till then how much I wanted to tap this hot wrestler's ass. Maybe his innocence was fueling some of my desire, too. "Not gonna do anything you're not ready for buddy," I said. "Come on, just lift your legs for Daddy."

Maybe that was the magic word, because Bryan leaned back and raised his legs up.

"You can pull em back," I instructed, taking a good look before leaning forward and crouching down.

"Holy FUCK!" the kid gasped at the first swipe of my tongue. His hair down there was light, and I enjoyed the contrast with hairier guys or even the OnlyFans dudes who shaved smooth. It was a delight to lick up and down the trench and then focus more on his tight pucker.

"Jesus," Bryan gasped. He wasn't naturally verbal, but I could tell his mind was being blown. Surprised, maybe a little ticklish but he definitely loved getting rimmed.

I pulled back. That ring was drum tight all right. It made me realize I'd never eaten out a cherry hole before. My son's certainly wasn't virgin. "Go ahead and stroke off," I urged. I relished the ability to speak in my normal voice now that the cameras were off, even as some of my Masked Daddy persona came out anyway. "I want you to come kiddo."

I watched as he excitedly gripped his boner and start to stroke it. Then I dove back in. Not just rimming but fully eating him out, munching the tightness of his asshole.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," the kid gasped. I knew his orgasm was starting. I held onto the back of his meaty thighs and even pushed back a little to angle him perfectly to got to town with my tongue and my sucking mouth.

"NMNGGH!" came the grunt of his cum. Bryan's whole body was tensing up and I knew he was giving up his load in a big way.

Indeed as I pulled back I saw that beautiful creamy white wrestler muscle sprayed with splotches of his sperm. I began licking it up off his abs and chest, saving it in my mouth before I finally met him in a kiss to share it.

The snowballing caught him by surprise but he was way into it, accepting his own cum then pushing it back into my mouth, our tongues working it back and forth and frothing it up with our own saliva.

He had a big, content smile on his face when finally parted, swallowing what little seed was left on our tongues. "I thought..." he started then stopped himself.

"I know, buddy," I said. I patted his chest gently. "I won't lie... I came THIS close to pushing your boundaries."

He nodded, emotionally raw. I could tell he half wanted me to. But only half. "I know. I don't know how, but I could tell."

His hand reached up and ran along my arm through my button down shirt. "I'll probably be kicking myself for not going all the way. But I wasn't ready," he said.

"It was all great, buddy," I assured him.

"I should go," he said. "I got a long drive back to Boulder."

I pulled back and gave him one last pat as I eyed up his nakedness one more time. Bryan was the real deal. Not a "jock" for pay. I felt a strange emotional connection even with the sexual chemistry. I'd have to process why I was feeling that.

For now, I let him up and I went to piss while he got dressed again. When I stepped back from the bathroom, he was mostly dressed again, and had a dreamy, moody expression.

"Thanks for that... fuck I don't even know your name."

"Will 'Daddy' do?" I asked with a wink.

"Guess it will have to," he said with resignation. "You've made my dream come true."

I stepped up for a final kiss, then I showed him to the hotel room door.

***

I was glad Bryan didn't sleep over. I needed a good rest and I had a busy schedule with my client visit the next day.

It felt like naughty fun messaging Bryan when I got a chance, though. It started off with "had a great time" kind of texts, but Bryan admitted how he wished he'd gone all the way.

"Maybe if you're in town again, I'll have the courage," he admitted.

"I'm in town another night if you manage to get that courage, kiddo."

There was silence on his end. Like an hour and a half before I got another text, and even then it was a half hour before I had a break after my afternoon presentation.

"Sorry," Bryan wrote. "Was in class and my prof goes apeshit if we're on our phones LOL."

I texted. "I worried I'd spooked you."

This time the reply was quicker. "Dude, you don't know how horny I've been all day. You're definitely not spooking me."

I bit my lip and looked around. I probably looked like I was doing business texts on my phone. But fuck I was getting horny too. Somehing about this Bryan kid got under my skin. "Is that a yes?" I wrote. "You gonna give me your cherry?"

I was pushing boundaries now for sure, but Bryan seemed up for it now, more than the previous night. "I wanna. Yeah."

"Daddy wants to get in your hole SO bad, buddy." Then, "I'll go easy on you."

"God yes," came his reply. "I'm hard as fuck now."

God this was gonna happen. One more boundary to push. "Will you let me fuck you on camera?"

There was a pause now. Then, "Masked?"

"As you like," I wrote, almost hoping Bryan wouldn't wear one, even if I knew he would. To coax him, I added, "I'll tell you my first name if you let me film us."

"Deal. LOL."

I looked up. Folks were filing back into the conference room. I hoped my chubbed cock wouldn't show. "I gotta go. But maybe plan for 8:30? I have a work dinner before."

"God yes. I can't believe we're going to do this."

"We're going to do it, Kiddo." I assured him. "I want you so bad."

I got a blushing emoji in return and had to smile. "All right," he wrote. "Talk later."

I went into my meeting and was able to get my mind off Bryan's creamy smooth wrestler build and his cherry hole. Somehow.

I checked my messages after we wrapped up, before heading off to a business dinner. It was close to my hotel thankfully and these things never ran late. I hoped to see a message from Bryan, but there was nothing.

I did google some instructions for preparing to bottom. With the OnlyFans guys and my own son, that routine was down pat, but a newbie like Bryan could use some guidance, and I wanted the ease and comfort of topping a clean hole. I forwarded the site to Bryan.

I held off to one glass of wine during dinner. I wanted a clear head for later. By 7:40 I'd paid the check on my corporate card and bid good night to my client contacts. I had to laugh at myself by how excited I was to get back to my hotel. I did have time to stop at an office supply store and pick up a spare small camera. I figured this scene would be worth the extra vantage point.

Bryan texted when he was on his way. I stripped down from my business clothes and hung them up in the closet. I was rock hard already, and dripping in anticipation. I hadn't felt this excited since my last time with my son. I took a quick shower and put on the plush hotel robe, tying it to cover up my midsection.

I spent the rest of the time setting up the cameras. The lighting wasn't perfect but it was enough.

The knock made me realize I was a little nervous myself. I'd gotten comfortable doing porn, maybe a little too comfortable, but taking Bryan's cherry felt like a certain responsibility. I wanted it to be an incredible experience for him, and I was realizing I was totally green when it came to easing a guy out of his virginity.

Still, the sight of him made my heart beat. He was just so fucking cute and hunky. Particularly was we realized each other was nervous.

"Hey, Daddy," he said stepping in.

"Brad," I said. "You can call me Brad. Or Daddy," I smirked.

Our kiss was soft, surprisingly soft given the act we were about to do.

"You good for his, buddy?" I asked, running my hands along his outer arms.

He nodded. "I'm nervous as hell, but I'll be kicking myself if I don't do it."

"You feel like stripping down?" I asked. "There's a mask for you on the table."

I pulled mine on and then went around made sure all the cameras were on. I was pleased to see Bryan's naked body, that thick muscle lean and compact with just a dusting of hair. God, even with that build he looked every bit the 20 year old he was. Like I say, the real deal.

And I was doubly pleased to see him throwing hard. That thick five spike standing up from his lightly furred crotch, nerves notwithstanding. I watched him pull on his mask. It was a shame the viewers wouldn't see how cute he was but his body rounded out that college jock look for sure.

I pointed the camera at him. "So... we're about to have sex for a video that will be released through OnlyFans. Do you agree for me to share what I film?"

I half expected some questions, but he just nodded. "Yes."

"Good boy," I said with a laugh. That made Bryan chuckle, too, which made me glad. "Why don't you lie on the bed, face down?"

I could sense his nervousness. Maybe he anticipated face to face for his first time. "Don't worry buddy, I'll ease you into this."

He nodded silently and then complied, walking over to the hotel bed, while I filmed him with his natural jock gait. It was hot as fuck, seeing him strut and that ass of his work. Then his full body stretching out face down.

The other cameras would get a good angle - one angled on each side nightstand, the other from behind where I stood, just a little off to the side. I held the camera phone as I stepped closer, letting the camera rove over his strong back and amazing ass, up and down his legs. Maybe more jock-worship footage than we'd use, but Travis could work his magic.

Finally, I stepped back and propped the camera phone off to the side. maybe it would work for another angle. Bryan turned back to look at me, and I got off on how his back muscle flexed with his motion. Stepping up, I ran my hands along his calves, working up the length as I climbed on the bed.

I knew I'd be in good view of the cameras now as I kissed from one side of his hamstrings to the other knotted leg. I took my time working my way up.

Bryan was ready for the rim job now. Hiking his ass up, he parted his legs enough to let me in. My hands gripped his buns and did the rest.

The college kid's sigh was deep and sexual as I began licking. I wanted to put on a show. I loved rimming a guy and sometimes felt there was never enough of it in porn videos. It was always a quick lick before the top was lining up. I went full in now, eating out Bryan for a solid five to ten minutes, alternating speed and tonguework. Sometimes Bryan relaxed and let me do my magic, sometimes he bucked up against my face to maximize the contact.

I pulled back and with a hungry growl gave him a light pat. "Turn over," I urged in my deeper voice. Spittle wetted down the chin of my mask. I really wished he and I could do it without these, but the masks allowed us to fuck on camera, both of us.

I was amazed to see Bryan's prick hard and leaking clear sap everywhere. He was majorly turned on. I pulled up enough to let the cameras get a good view of his ripped, modestly jacked body.

"How many guys have fucked you?" I asked tersely. I sure hoped the "MaskedDaddy" voice was enough fo a disguise.

Bryan didn't change his voice, but his soft response was sexy as hell. "No one yet," he said.

I leaned in and kissed him. Just enough sexual urge, and enough romantic finesse. Bryan responded in turn, sucking my tongue into his mouth and moaning against me. He was nervous, sure, but also getting the case of the major horns.

I loved this, putting on a show and yet connecting one-to-one with this fine young man. I pulled up and muttered, "nice," patting his chest. I rolled off to the side and undid my robe. My hardon bounded out and both Bryan and the camera could see my exposed body with its blond fur. I pulled him to me and we started making out again.

Silently I guided him down and the kid knew what to do. Slowly he began kissing and worshipping my big prick, wetting it down with his tongue before taking me into his mouth. Practice hadn't made perfect, but he was getting much more accustomed to my size and better at blowing me.

I was determined not to get overheated. I just lay back and enjoyed this, the sensation of Bryan's soft, slow blowjob and the view of his nakedness kneeling in front of me in servicing position.

Soon, though, it was feeling too good. I nudged him off. He came up to meet me for a kiss, taking the initiative now, until I regained the upperhand in rolling him back on his back, with me on top. I could feel his hardon against mine and the warmth from his body.

Placing my mouth at his ear, I whispered, "You like being a porn star too, dont ya kiddo?"

"Yeah," he grunted back.

I knew I needed to be a little verbal with him. If the camera picked up my words, Travis could edit them out. "You're just about the hottest guy I've ever fucked, Bry."

His body actually shivered at that. The time seemed ripe. I lifted off and leaned over to pump out some lube.

He let out a hiss of air the second my greased fingers touched his pucker but he didn't flinch. Instead he spread his legs and looked into my eyes. This was gonna be good.

I pushed a digit in. Bryan was real fucking tight. But I worked him slowly. Back and forth, in and out.

"Another," I said curtly.

"God," he hissed as I penetrated him with two fingers. It wasn't bad-uncomfortable for him, but it was certainly unfamiliar to him. We stood still eyes locked, him lying back, me between his legs. Until I started finger fucking him again. I applied more lube and fingered him some more.

Finally I pulled back and removed my robe entirely, slipping it off my body and tossing it aside. Bryan's hands were on me, excited to feel up my DILF body. I let him. Between his attention and the cameras I was getting real excited. I was the one dripping now. I caught a thick thread of precum in my fingers and brought it down to his virgin hole. I fingered him up with that too.

The third finger was slow going, but I got him to relax.

"No rubber?" I have asked and half said.

"No sir," came his excited reply.

I was gonna get blue balls soon if I didn't fuck. I scooted up and pressed my prick head in place. I pressed super slow against his ring, working against the spit-slick tightness and smearing my precum against him.

I could feel Bryan's body shake beneath me, and he looked up, a real deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes beneath the mask. I worried if I waited longer his nerves would get the best of him. I pushed in.

"UNNH!" he whimpered loudly. I felt bad the entry hurt and bad that he was doing his bravest to pretend it didn't.

"Easy, bud..." I hissed, reaching down to run my hands along his hot body. This fine young man was giving me a major gift. My prick jerked an inch or two inside him, feeling the tightness of his ass clamping down on him, as I held still, then gave the shallowest of thrusts, back and forth more than in and out.

I looked at him, trying to communicate silently. Then I leaned in, pushing his legs back with my body. "You're doing good," I said.

We kissed. My cock slipped out of its toe hold but I didn't care. He needed this, and I wanted it. This was about the only time I lost track of the cameras. When I wasn't putting on a show. I connected with this college kid in a deep, soulful kiss. And kissed him som more.

I pulled back. This time I didn't rush, but I didn't delay. I pushed back into him. Bryan somehow trusted me, because his ring gave way more easily. He was virgin tight a few inches inside, but I gently thrust back and forth, working that knot inside him. I pulled out and added more lube. Now showing off for Bryan and the cameras both. Then I placed his ankles on my shoulders.

"OOH FUCK!" Came his cry when I broke through. But he wasn't in pain, just overwhelmed by feelings he didn't have word for. I plowed all the way in and held it. I could see his muscular chest rise and fall, taking deep breaths.

"Got your cherry, kiddo," I hissed.

"Thank you," he actually replied, his voice heavy in emotion. That got me going. My dick felt like stone inside his warm, tight guts.

"Feel good buddy?" My hands massaged his calf muscle as I looked down on him and restrained myself from just plowing his hot ass.

Bryan nodded.

I pulled and out thrust in. Then again. I was fucking for real now. Bryan's first fuck. Maybe more than he bargained for when he came over the previous night. But I knew this was his deep fantasy and why he reached out to me.

I wasn't hard or rough, but I fucked with a steady determination. I wanted to give this kid the best first time experience possible now. I puffed my chest and used more of a swivel action of my hips, in and out, in and out, as my eyes stared down at him. I'd probably read his facial reactions better without the mask, but his eyes and mouth were enough. I was getting to him, hitting that spot.

I paused just a second and reached to pump out more lube. This went onto his prick. He gasped as I slicked him up then got the picture once I pulled my hand away.

I grabbed a pillow and slid it underneath his hips. It made for the perfect angle, and I took quick advantage, resuming my steady plow of Bryan's no-longer virgin hole.

Turns out his masturbation was just what Bryan needed, flipping the switch to full pleasure now.

"Yeah?" I asked. Fucking heavier now.

"Yesss," the college hunk hissed back. He was jerking faster now, not frantically but eagerly and in synch with the fuck.

I saw his pisslit dilate and a clear spurt fly out. Not his ejaculation yet, but the prelude.

"Fuck yes," I grunted, throwing my hips into harder pounding. I was getting close to the finish line, and I wanted to speed up to catch up with this stud.

My harder thrusts felt amazing giving how much his ass was clenching and releasing on my dick spasmodically. But it really made Bryan's prostate sing. His pale skin grew pink and flush and his wrestler muscle tensed up.

"Shit!" he yelled and timed with each shove his nuts gave it up, and his prick spurted heavy ropes of semen over his perfect body.

I went at it even harder, leaning in some, powering my hips in rapid jabs. I didn't say anything but my grunt was unmistakeable as I shoved in and unloaded. My cum threw off my rhythm, but I held deep a second, then my hips jerked involuntarily for another hard shove to discharge my seed deep inside Bryan.

The kid winced at that one, which made me feel bad. I got myself under control and held myself steady, gently massaging his leg and then easing back. He'd been a trooper but now needed a break. I leaned back and showed off my slickened dong, though most viewers eyes would probably be on the cum-covered collegiate muscle of my bottom.

Leaning over I picked up one of the cameras. Time for the money shot.

Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced bottom, he'd watched enough porn to know what I was after. Rather than drop his legs down, he pulled them back, spreading them enough to show me and the camera his fucked and seeded hole. No longer drum tight, it has a slight gape and was thick with my cum. I'd shot a lot.

I got a good shot of it, then angled the camera up to capture his whole ripped and cum-wet body. Nothing would ever top watching my own son in porn, but Bryan was a close second.

I finally set down the phone and pulled off my mask. That was the cue Bryan was waiting for and he eagerly peeled his off.

"You OK, buddy?" I asked. My normal voice returning.

He nodded. "God yeah. I'm so glad we did that."

I gave a sly nod to the camera. "Your first time's preserved as a memento," I said. A little teasing in my voice, but checking in where his head was.

He smiled and god he was so fucking cute with that pearly white smile. "I didn't think I was gonna enjoy it at first," he admitted. "But damn..."

I ran my fingers through the cum that had turned liquidy on his chest. "You shot like gangbusters," I said.

"My cums are pretty big normally," he said. "But your dick did something inside me that made me go wild. I've never felt anything like that."

"I'm glad," I said. I leaned forward for another kiss, this one tantalizingly soft and slow.

Afterward, I let Bryan get up and shower off while I checked my phone. Then I figured I'd join him. The look on his face told me my presence was quite welcome.

"Hey," he grinned, shyly. God, he was star struck and that made me feel like a real stud.

"Hey," I said. Our wet bodies connected and we took the time to soap each other down.

"You married to a man or a woman?" he asked as he nodded to my gold band.

"A woman," I said. "I'm not the best husband."

He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you share yourself."

"I have news for you kiddo," I said, turning off the water and running my hands over his wet muscled body. "You've shared yourself now, too."

"Still can't believe it," he said. "When will you post it?"

"In a couple of weeks," I said. I wasn't going to bring up Travis or my process for putting the vid together.

His hands reached up to feel my body too, my chest but also my shoulders and arms.

"I'm hard again," Bryan said. "I can't believe it."

"You're 20," I joked. "It happens."

"Yeah," he laughed.

I patted his arm. "Feel like sleeping over?" I asked. "I have a morning flight to catch but you're welcome to stay."

He nodded, like an eager puppy. We dried off and made our way back into the room. I downed a bottled water to rehydrate and tossed him one. "Remind me to tip housekeeping extra," I said as I pulled down the sheets. "We made a fucking mess."

He slipped into the bed next to me. His body was cooler now, and felt great against my warmer bod. We made out. His dick was a spike and I got hard once more, but I wasn't eager for another fuck. And Bryan seemed to go with the flow.

"So..." I finally said. "No longer a virgin..."

"No sir."

"Any regrets?" I asked, leaning back in the bed against the headboard, pulling my hands behind me. Bryan nestled in, resting his head against my upper chest and running his hands along my fur.

"None. It was hot as fuck," he said. "But even if it hadn't been, I just feel relieved, you know?"

"Not exactly," I smiled knowingly.

"Ha," he said, picking up on my meaning. "I'm surprised your so good at breaking a guy in if you're cherry too."

"I'd like to say I had some secret," I admitted, "But I just did what felt right."

Maybe it was the sex. I mean it was getting late, but not that late. Bryan was dozing some as he rested up against me. I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Ready for bed, kiddo?" I asked.

"Yeah, Brad," he said and rolled off to the side.

***

My son did his magic crafting two separate scenes from the footage with Bryan, as well as a very hot teaser. "Taking College Jock's Cherry" was the title of the second. The on-screen chemistry was real, and it was clear that we weren't faking it. I really did take the young dude's virginity on screen.

"God, Dad, this is fucking incredible," Travis said to me on the phone before he posted the scene. "I've shot three times to it."

I smiled. I was in a semi-public place and had to be a little discrete. "I'm very glad to hear that," I smirked. "A little payback to the one you did the other week."

"Bud and Spike?" he asked.

That one was one was OK, but not my favorite. "No, the other one," I said, cagily.

That got a laugh from Trav. "Oh, MiamiMuscles... dude's a crazy power bottom, right?"

"Yeah," I said, my throat getting hoarse with lust I was trying to hide. "I like watching you in action like that."

Travis picked up on my need to be discreet, though he had no constraints on his end. "You prefer watching me fuck, Dad?"

God, my son knew how to drive me crazy. "I do," I admitted.

I detected a hesitation on his end, which wasn't Travis's normal response to anything. He paused. "Dad... you ever think about, you know, me fucking you?"

Just hearing those words were going make me go from chubbed to boned. "It's a little scary to think about," I replied. "But yeah... I do."

"Oh fuck," Travis hissed. Only then did I realize he'd been dreaming of that very act. Topping me. Taking my anal cherry, like I'd done with that Denver kid. It surprised me actually, given our bedroom chemistry with my son bottoming for me, eager for his dad's cock. "We'll talk about it next time, OK?" he said. Not pressuring me but letting me know this was on his mind.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll probably chicken out, son. But I wanna explore the idea." I was nervous just vocalizing this.

"Sure, Dad," Trav said. "God you know I love everything we'd done together. If I were there right now, I'd suck your cock, you know that." My son was getting into deep lust mode now.

"Fuck, Trav, I should probably go," I said. I knew if I kept talking like this, I'd get in trouble. "Later, son?"

"Yeah, Dad," he replied, his voice rich with lust. I knew he was probably going to jack off when I hung up. I was going to find the time myself at the first chance. Pull up one of Travis's videos where he topped and stroke off imagining him pounding me, too.

****

My Denver videos were popular. I wasn't surprised that my fans responded to the realness of them, but I was surprised by the messages I got. They changed my porn career and it's probably not an overstatement to say they changed my life.

The first one came two weeks after the video with Bryan dropped.

"Dear MaskedDaddy, I loved your latest video. God, it's like my deepest fantasy. I'm 23 and live in DC. I don't have that college jock's bod, but I'm working on it. I've been too scared to let a guy fuck me, but if you want to be my first, I'd love to star in one of your vids. I wouldn't even need a mask."

It was a wild email, and I figured the kid's horniness doing the thinking for him. I pawed my crotch and laughed at how forward the offer was. I started to send a polite thanks but no thanks reply.

But then I thought about it, and I figured what the hell. I asked for the young dude's pictures. He was cute as fuck. Not quite as twunky as Bryan but still good looking, kind of that boy-next-door type.

Travis handled the OnlyFans money my site brought in. I didn't do porn for the money, and in any case I didn't want my finances impacted lest Kate find out.

I sent two more texts that night. One to DC guy. "If you're serious, lets plan for something three weeks from now." I knew I had some work travel on the East Coast I could piggy back on.

My other I sent to Trav. "I need your help arranging a DC visit. Gonna pop another dude's cherry."

#drakestories

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