#because he's bought much for himself in all that time

[bitchlessdino]

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

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

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

[Part 1 in case you missed it]

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

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

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

“What about the cafe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great.”

“Sound more excited.”

“Great…”

“There was no difference in your tone.”

“I enunciated.”

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

“I’ll walk you out.”

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

“Manager Choi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You asked in a normal volume.

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

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

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

“How is that any different?”

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

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

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

“…Who the hell are you?”

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

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

“Have a good day at work!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You most certainly did not.”

“...Okay, I didn’t.”

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

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

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

“Cheol,” you whined apologetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, Jin. we’ll be there!”

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

“Yes, now come on.”

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

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

“Okay kids, gather around!”

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

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

“To love!”

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

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

“Frisky? 21, my ass.”

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

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

“Not joining your friends?” He nudged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“So, you brought and wore a swimsuit?”

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

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

“I’m going to kill you, Choi!”

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

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

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

“You could have killed me,” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cheol.”

“Hmm?”

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

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

“You did that on purpose,” he mimicked.

“Aren't you the genius?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like I’d let that happen, perv.”

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

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

“Best idea you’ve had all damn day.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Asshole. Okay, go!”

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

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

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

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

“Not right now, dimwit,” you insulted.

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

“I’m talking about the pool.”

“What about it?”

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

“...I asked.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was the sun!”

“It looked nothing like the sun.”

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then sit out grandpa, damn!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Truth. No. Dare. Fuck, wait, truth—“

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

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

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

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

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

“Lame…”

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

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

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

“You’re safe for now.”

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

“Give your partner a blindfolded lap dance.”

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

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

“Why the hell—“

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

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

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

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

“Let’s put them on the couch.”

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

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

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

“Cheol?” 

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

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

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

“Hey, babes, you’re awake.”

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” 

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

“Smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But I’m not making time to see you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So he checks all the boxes?”

“I’m looking into it.”

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

“Nosy!” you exclaimed, bumping her hip.

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

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

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

“It just needs to be the right moment.”

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

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

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

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

“Alright. You must really like the guy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck? This is gorgeous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can smell you from over here.”

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

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

“I do?”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

“Alright, geez.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wha’ I do?”

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

“Me?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t make me climb over there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it?”

“That’s what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, everyone!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re making me wait?”

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

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

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

You whined. “But—“

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

“End of discussion?” you repeated.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

Cheol:🫰

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

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

Cheol: That was an accident. Sorry.

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

Then another message popped up immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not important right now.”

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

But apparently, whatever you wanted came with limits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m just giving you a fair warning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t wear that.”

“Why? At least give me a reason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One…”

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

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

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

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

“Seungcheol, please…”

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

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

“...Three.”

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

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

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

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

“You set an alarm on your phone?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmh, move a little higher.”

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

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

“There?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a smartass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can make that happen.”

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

“So you think I’m funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

“This was way worse. And I apologized.”

“No you didn’t!”

“Me getting on my knees was the apology.”

“You thoroughly enjoyed that.”

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

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

“Nevermind, I can’t wait.”

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

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

“Did you ever look at them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I can’t wait any longer.”

“Me neither.”

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

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

“You drive me crazy,” he achingly whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That hurt?”

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

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

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

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

“…faster?”

“Okay.”

“Wai—ah-ahh—“

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

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

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

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

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

“You…kinda lost it there.”

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

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

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

“Enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like that please,” you pleaded, breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what now?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I still visit your office sometimes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t,” he whined softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Cheol, please!”

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

“Are you…pouting?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Heritance

There's not much left for Tim in his parents' wills. Or, well, not much by his standards - the rest of the family, barring Bruce and Damian, think he is absolutely loaded and too full of himself to care. Which is maybe a little bit true; receiving about a dozen properties across the world, a trust fund and a wide collection of artifacts that his parents have accumulated through years of their archeological escapades is a lot by middle class standards.

But Tim knows how much money Drakes actually had, and a few old houses and an assembly of junk seems like not much in comparison.

In any case, it's all rather useless in Tim's position. He has no interest in traveling aside from when he has to for a mission, and he couldn't give less shits about archeology even if he tried. The trust fund is fine, he guesses, but it's not like he needs it, what with being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and one of the Wayne Wards.

So, as morbid as it is, the best reaction he can muster at his inheritance is a shrug and a mention in his mile-long list of 'things I need to figure out when I have time'. Which basically means he'll maybe get to it when he's old and retired, and not any sooner, because Tim Drake the CEO and Red Robin the vigilante are both very, very busy people who never have time.

Naturally, his life has other plans, and it's only two or three months later that Tim finds himself breaking through the balcony window of his own apartment in Praha.

It's at that moment, when he's lying on top of a soft persian rug, surrounded by glass shards and wondering if this move was enough to lose his tail that he realizes his inheritance might be slightly more than just a few properties and some boxes with old things.

Because, through his own heavy breathing, he hears a thoughtful, slightly sarcastic voice from inside the room, "I guess the door was too hard to figure out for you, wasn't it."

He sits up, turning his head so sharply it almost snaps. His eyes immediately fall on a boy not much older than him, sitting with one leg thrown over the other on the dark red couch near the wall. He looks like he clearly belongs here: white, vintage collar shirt and black, high-waist trousers, a silver ring on his thumb that looks too old to have been bought in this century, dark raven hair and perfect porcelain skin.

And he is reading a newspaper. Like a slightly bleeding costumed guy in a domino mask breaking the window and falling onto the carpet is just another Tuesday.

Hold on, this is Tim's house! He double-checked the address, there's no mistake!

"Who are you?" He demands, frowning, as his hands reach to the birdarangs out of habit.

"Keeper of Doors," the boy answers, not looking up and flipping the page, "And you're the Drakes' heir, I assume."

Tim blinks. The response provides no actual answers, it only creates more questions. "What doors?" He asks because the rest of the points can most likely be addressed later. Like the issue of his busted secret identity, right.

The boy sighs and closes the newspaper, folding it in half and uncrossing his legs to sit a bit straighter. "Doors, capital 'D'. The ones that lead everywhere you want."

"The what?.." Tim repeats, dumbfounded and lost in this unexpected nonsense. The boy gives him a truly unimpressed look, his eyebrow twitching. Then, he stands up - Tim's fingers close around the birdarang again - and steps towards the nearest door, grabbing the handle. His feet make absolutely no sound.

"Drake manor," the boy announces and pushes the door open. He doesn't step through, however, instead just standing in the doorway and turning back to Tim, gesturing for him to look.

Tim does.

Seeing the familiar hall, the one he's seen so many times, the one he walked through every day before he moved out, makes him realize a few things at once. One, he needs to revise the list of houses he inherited since it looks like they are not just properties but a map of teleportation points, most likely. Two, his parents knew full well he didn't need the trust fund, it wasn't for him, it was probably for this boy, who may or may not be the, well, gatekeeper. Three, if the first part of his inheritance turned out to be this, he is going to need to call in Zatanna to sort through the collection of his parents' artifacts lest something turns out to be actually cursed in there.

Four, he's been staring at the boy and gaping like a fish for longer than its socially acceptable.

"...What's your name?" He asks, suddenly conscious about the fact he was kind of rude before. The boy snorts, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he closes the door back.

"Danny," he introduces and snaps his fingers. The glass shards around Tim move all at once, rising from the ground and going back towards the window, like a reversed video recording. A second later, the balcony window looks as good as new, not a crack in the glass. "And you?"

"Red Ro-" Tim starts, but then pauses. Fuck it, he might as well, "Tim."

Danny waves his hand in the air, like snatching something out of nowhere, and, just like that, there's a box that looks suspiciously like a first-aid kit in his hands.

"Nice to meet you, Tim. Now, get over here and stop ruining my carpet with your blood."

[cryptidbear]

Adding more to this bc I found my notes I wrote down and I want to share some more about this (yes I'm procrastinating doing something.)

It's basically a young single father Dick Grayson au. I've seen a few and honestly? Love.

Dick's like 16/17 when Bruce dies (haven't set a specific death, maybe at the hands of a villian?)

It's a few years until he meets Jason, so for a long time it's just him and Alfred in the big, lonely manner learning to cope, with Clark and Lois trying to come by as often as possible bc Dick basically shuts himself away. He works with the League as Batman, and still tries his best to run the Titans, even though he pulls back from them and shuts himself off.

It's not for several years that he finds Jason. He'll be 19/20, real young, finding a 10-13 year old Jason. (Debating if I want Canon ages for some of these or like, going the younger route. Also sometimes the age differences between everyone are confusing.)

He sees Jason stealing the Batmobile's tire after he's had a shit day and they just stand there staring at each other. Dick as Batman softens, his gravelly voice dropping away and asks the kid if he wants to get some bat burger and check out the inside of the batmobile for a little. (It takes a lot of convincing, and Jason holds onto the tire iron the entire time.)

Meshing about the kid just has him feeling a little less alone for the first time in years. And when he leaves for the night after dropping the kid off at a shelter... he realizes he feels empty now. Like the kid left with a piece of his soul.

He doesn't stop thinking about the kid and keeps an eye out for him, worry filling him for the young boy.

And then he rescues him from a gang or getting beat up somewhere, but the boy is badly injured. Dick panics and swoops the kid up, but he's fighting it, justifiably not wanting to be taken away by a strange masked man, even if it's Batman. Especially not to a damned hospital when he can't even afford *food*.

So Dick rips off the Batman mask, desperate to get his trust and get the boy treated, and Jason is left reeling in silent shock as he's taken to the Bat cave.

He ends up adopting the boy after that. Thats *his* son now, your honor. That's Jason Grayson-Todd, your honor. That's *his* boy.

(Dick and Jason fight a lot because they're both grieving lost parents and neither know how to communicate that. One bad particular fight, Jason screams that he wishes Dick left him for dead instead. The boy immediately regrets it as he watches his adoptive father crumble to the floor and shatter like he's never seen before. Jason doesn't apologize, but he silently settles down next to him, leaning into his side and only grouching a little when he's pulled into a hug. He's not let go the entire night. Dick gets a stack of apology pancakes in the morning, something that becomes something reoccurring in the manor. Dick's always end up a little burnt but Jason eats them anyways. Jason has Alfred help him, and they turn into fluffy pancakes that make Dick cry as he eats them everytime.)

Jason's first Christmas is emotional for all kinds of reasons, one of them being Dick stopped celebrating when Bruce died. He didn't see the point anymore.

But Dick had a son now who he had to spoil, so Christmas returns to the manor. Dick and Alfred cry as they put up the old decorations, and Dick has to excuse himself when they get to all of Bruce's ornaments or the ones he bought for Dick to put on the tree.

Jason's emotional and flighty since he's not used to grand Christmases, and it'll be his first, maybe second holiday without Catherine and he's just as much of a mess as Dick is, so it ends up being a lot of crying the whole month.

But Christmas day Jason is greeted with a pile of gifts just for him- and a surprise in the library. He gets his own corner set up in the library since he spends most of his time there, with a library shelf just to store his books- and its filled with 20 gift wrapped books for him to discover, and a used copy of the velveteen rabbit, his favorite book. (Dick found it going through Bruce's things. There's little notes in the margins from a much younger Bruce, and his heart aches everytime he sees Jason read the book, everytime he catches him asleep with the book clutched to his chest. But it makes him happy, makes him feel like Bruce is watching over Jason, his *grandson*.)

Anyways thats it for right now bc I need to go, and I'm so sorry if this is messy, I can't proofread it, and i am dyslexic as all hell. 😭

But I do have some notes for Tim I want to share later!! Haven't planned everything out yet, but slowly.

Lying awake at 5 am thinking of the au I planned out where Batman dies before Dick ever becomes Nightwing, so Dick becomes Batman and he ends up adopting all his siblings instead.

19/20 year old Dick Grayson staring down at a like 10-13 year old Jason Todd trying to steal his tires and understanding why Bruce took him home that day at the circus.

Dick Grayson staring at Jason who brought home a young Tim and feeling like he can never let Tim go, or maybe him finding the young boy taking photos one late night.

Dick finding out about (baby!) Damian and stealing him. That's *his* son now.

Him finding Cass and just accepting he has a daughter too. Doesn't even fight it anymore.

Duke? He just sighs and wraps the kid up in a blanket. Alfred's already got a room set up for him by the time they're back at the manor.

Eventually, Tim and Steph date and break up (she gets to finally have a good time as Robin PLEASE) but Dick gets said when she stops coming to family dinner. She starts coming again bc she can't stand the puppy dog eyes. She's his unofficial daughter.

Barbara and Alfred just watching all this go down and staring to place bets on when they think another shows up.

Dick but he just inherits his father's adoption problems.

Ft uncle Clark and aunt Lois with (baby!!!) Kon and eventually a baby Jon.

Ft an unholy amount of angst almost every damned chapter.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off. 

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won. 

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile. 

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together. 

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet. 

You weren’t even sure how this happened. 

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.  

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you. 

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you. 

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath. 

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on. 

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair. 

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck. 

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper. 

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips. 

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you. 

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped. 

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned. 

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered. 

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe. 

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard. 

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum. 

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you. 

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face. 

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you. 

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.  

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly. 

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back. 

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues. 

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day. 

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.

[hivemuthur]

Can I request childhood friends to lovers with Viktor where he takes reader to prom? I guess this is make up for the time I went to prom alone and just sat in the back uncomfortable cause I didn’t have friends and very socially anxious )):

Hi darling Anon! I went a bit overboard, but I hope you like it :x

Teenage Dirtbag

viktorxfemale!reader general audiences, Viktor asks Reader to prom and guess what, they go!

author’s note: I was hell-bent on making Viktor sound like a teenager here, when I finally decided that he was born with old speech curse. It's just my hc :v @rennethen beta read!

word count: 3,5K

—

You can hear around a fifth giggle this afternoon in the library, followed by an excited yes, and you huff under your nose, re-reading the sentence that got interrupted. Viktor throws you a glance.

“Everything alright?” he asks, whispering, and his breath fans your hand clutching the book. You wince at another distraction and mumble an annoyed yes, not looking up, but Viktor’s eyes are burning a hole in your forehead.

“Ugh, it’s noisy in here today, don’t you think?” you finally whisper back, and if your voice had a pitch, it would be high.

“Yes, well, the prom fever has begun, I believe,” Viktor muses, glancing over at yet another couple exchanging prom invitations and trying to suppress giggles and chatter. When you do only as much as grumble some incomprehensible curse, he presses further. “Are you against prom?”

“Are you not?” you whisper, louder, to the point where whispering actually stops making sense because probably everyone can hear you. “It’s a horrible patriarchal tradition meant to celebrate classic standards of beauty and popularity and alienate outsiders even further. And you have to pay for it.”

“So, am I understanding correctly that you do not intend to go?” Viktor asks, lifting his head to look at you. He studies you for a moment, then smiles—one of those smirks that suggests there will be a very clever follow-up question.

“Exactly.” You nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to physically shield yourself from what you expect to come next.

“Not even if someone has invited you?” His tone remains casual, but the way he tilts his head suggests something more calculated, and for a fleeting moment, it stings that Viktor would even hint at such a thing.

“Not even then, no.” You shake your head, trying to steady the slight waver in your voice, even though it’s still a whisper.

He hums and reaches into his bag. Before you can say anything, he’s waving two pieces of paper in front of your face, a merciless smirk tugging at his lips.

“I guess it’s very unfortunate that I have bought those tickets then?”

You blink, staring at him as your mind tries to process the words. “You what?” Your voice jumps in volume, drawing a couple of scolding glances and an exaggerated shh from a nearby table.

Viktor tilts his head, utterly unbothered. “I have acquired tickets. Two of them. One for me. One for you.”

“You—” Your mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again. “Viktor, why—? What—” you stutter as your brain spirals into synaptic failure.

“Will you go to the prom with me?” he asks smoothly, flashing you an honest, doe-eyed smile. “I know you enjoy complaining about things before inevitably having a good time, so I thought we could give it a try, no? As friends?”

Your jaw drops. “That is not true.” That is so not true. If you say yes, you are absolutely going to complain all the way through and make sure not to have a good time, just to prove your point. But then again, the gesture is so sweet that two conflicting parts of you battle in an unwinnable war. “Viktor, are you sure?”

“What is there to be unsure about? We’ll dress up, make fun of whoever gets illegally drunk, complain about the food, music, and decorations, and then I will walk you home and bid you good night. No casualties,” he says in one breath, as if trying to convince himself now, too. Your resistance has gone on long enough that even he is beginning to doubt the genius of his own plan.

“I… I don’t have a dress,” you say weakly, taking the ticket from his hand. Your fingers brush, and he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Well, you had better organise yourself then, yes? Unless you intend to die on that hill and say no?” Viktor teases, but the moment the words leave his mouth, he regrets testing his luck so boldly.

Fortunately, you sigh and shake your head. “No, I don’t intend to die on that hill,” you huff, but your face beams despite yourself. “Fine. Let’s go to prom.”

And while Viktor might have preferred to hear I would love to go with you or one of those choked, excited yes sounds that have been echoing through your entire study session, he will take your fine as a first step toward something bigger. Maybe. He will see.

And you, uh. You are going to the prom. To the conceptually horrible party that celebrates bland, generic stereotypes and leaves no space for individuality or oddity (if that’s how you’d describe yourself). With your best friend. And the lie you told through your fucking teeth about not having a dress makes you blush with shame, but at least that’s out of the way. Now all you have to do is just… go.

When Viktor shows up on your doorstep on the night of the event, you don’t expect anything, even though something inside you gets all giddy when your mom calls you downstairs for the goddamn prom picture. You don’t expect him to react, to do anything out of the ordinary—so when he arrives with a tie that matches your dress perfectly and a complimentary corsage, you’d probably drop whatever you were holding, had your hands been occupied.

And Viktor does almost drop the corsage at the sight of you, his grip wobbling on his cane. His eyes stay locked on you as you rush clumsily down the stairs, still tucking in the last few pins into your hair, the dress flowing around you. And it’s, uh. A really good dress. He almost can’t believe that you’ve managed to find it in such a short time. It hugs you perfectly, and the colour brings out the features Viktor knew were there, but now they look just… perfect. And he notices how your face is actually close to perfect. With little bits of imperfections that make you even more pretty. But he can’t make this too weird, so he swallows down all his awe and greets you with a stupid, “Hi.”

“H-hey,” you stutter, feeling oddly scrutinized. But you do take notice of how neatly Viktor’s hair is combed, how the tie suits his eyes. And then the corsage. And then the strange lump of awkwardness in your throat when your mum urges you both to stand closer for the picture. You try to mask your blush by sticking out your tongue and making a silly face, earning an unimpressed huff from her.

The besotted awkwardness lingers all the way from your doorstep to school. Through the hallway, as you gain a few compliments from people whose names you can’t remember. When Viktor gets an odd “nicely done” from a classmate who’s blatantly eyeing you both. You exchange a glance and chuckle—awkwardly, of course.

By the time you finally sit at the table, the weirdness is too much. Mustering whatever courage is left in your overly pampered self, you lean in and say playfully, “Alright. We are at the prom. Entertain me, please.”

“Entertain you? Are you not entertained enough by the lovely décor and impeccable music?” Viktor smiles incredulously, turning in his chair to face you, grateful for the silence to be broken.

“Thoroughly. But I am hungry for more.” You shoot him a grin and lean in closer.

“Well, turn around then,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “Turn around?”

“Go on.” His tone is coaxing, teasing.

So you do. You turn in your chair, facing the room, and almost spit out your drink when Viktor’s arm snakes around your neck, his palm resting on your bare shoulder, his torso pressing lightly against your back. His chin nestles into the crook of your neck as he lifts a hand, finger pointing toward two teachers in the corner of the room.

“Do you think they came drunk or that they got drunk here?” he asks, his voice low with amusement.

You barely register the question at first—too focused on the way his breath fans over your skin, warm and feather-light. Goosebumps prickle across your neck and shoulders, a shiver rolling down your spine before you can stop it.

“I—” You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound normal. “I think—uh, I think they definitely pregamed.” You tilt your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Viktor’s expression. He’s smirking. Of course he is.

“Mm. A strategic move,” he murmurs, not moving away. “Perhaps we should have considered it.”

You huff out a laugh, shifting under his arm in an attempt to ignore the way your pulse has suddenly decided to misbehave. “You do realise that if I came here drunk, I would be insufferable?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “But I find you insufferable even sober, so what difference would it make?”

You elbow him lightly in the ribs, earning a breathy chuckle. He still doesn’t move. And you don’t ask him to. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as he scans the room like a scientist observing an experiment in progress. His finger shifts, pointing toward the stage.

“The lead singer,” he murmurs, amusement curling in his voice. “Look closely.”

You squint, following his gaze. It takes a second, but then—oh. The guy isn’t singing. Not really. His mouth moves just a fraction too late, his lips barely forming the right shapes as the speakers blast out an overproduced ballad.

You gasp. “He’s—he’s lip-syncing?”

“Quite badly,” Viktor confirms, his tone as dry as ever.

You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, but Viktor’s shoulders shake with barely-contained mirth. He leans in a fraction more, his breath warming your ear. “Truly an artist at work,” he muses, eyes alight with mischief.

Your gaze drifts further across the room, taking in the scattered pockets of chaos—the swaying bodies on the dance floor, the clumps of students deep in scandalous conversation, and—

“The punch,” Viktor notes, and you follow his gesture toward a table where two students are very obviously spiking the communal bowl.

You snort. “Bold of them to think no one would notice.”

“Mm.” Viktor hums, tilting his head. “Seems like you can still change your mind about intoxication.”

You scoff, twisting just enough to give him a sceptical look. “Is there a particular reason you would like me to get drunk?” you challenge. “Am I truly this insufferable sober?”

Viktor exhales a sharp laugh, but then—he shifts just slightly closer, his voice dropping low as he leans in, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You asked me to entertain you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his accent thick and deliberate. “I am merely presenting you with the options.”

Heat flares in your cheeks so fast you’re convinced the entire room must see it. Your throat goes dry. Viktor is smug, you can feel it in the way his breath lingers, in the amused tilt of his head when he finally pulls back. And oh, you are not going to let him get away with that.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” you declare, lifting your chin in challenge.

Viktor barely hesitates. “Say no more.”

And that’s how you find yourself cradling a giant plastic cup of aggressively spiked punch, the harsh sting of cheap alcohol unmistakable beneath the artificial fruit flavour. Viktor, beside you, takes a sip and immediately winces.

“Whoever did this,” he coughs, shaking his head, “should be arrested.”

You laugh, swallowing past the burn. “And yet, here we are.”

“Deeply regretting our choices?”

You grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

But the regret fades fast as the night unfolds. You both keep up a steady stream of quiet, conspiratorial chatter, pointing out ridiculous dance moves, stolen kisses, and teachers who look like they’d rather be anywhere else. There’s warmth in it, a shared amusement that makes the room blur into the background.

And then—

A familiar melody hums through the speakers, soft and slow, cutting through the pop songs that came before. Without thinking, you blurt, “Dance with me.”

Viktor turns, eyebrows raised. “I don’t really dance,” he says, tapping his cane lightly against the floor.

Realisation sinks in, and your stomach twists. “Oh—I didn’t mean—”

But he’s already shaking his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Swaying,” he amends gently. “Swaying is a better word for what I’m capable of.”

You exhale, smiling. “I prefer swaying to dancing, anyway.”

So you stay close to your table, moving just enough to count as dancing but not enough to make a spectacle of yourselves. Your arms loop around Viktor’s shoulders, fingers brushing the hairline at the nape of his neck, while his hands find their place at the small of your back, fingers linking together.

At first, the awkwardness lingers. You make some quip about looking like a terrible prom cliché, and Viktor fires back that, statistically, you are. But then—his expression shifts, something softer taking over, something you’ve seen on his face before but never thought much of it.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, he leans in, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder.

You freeze for half a second, caught between surprise and outright joy. The scent of him lingers close, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, and when you absently tangle your fingers into his hair, Viktor trembles. A full-body reaction barely contained, followed by a quiet, unsteady huff against your shoulder.

Your heart thuds.

His grip tightens, one hand shifting higher, fingers pressing firmly into the space between your shoulder blades as he pulls you closer. For a long moment, neither of you speak. You simply sway, pressed together, moving with the rhythm of the song.

And then, as the last few notes echo out and the moment threatens to end, Viktor shifts. His lips brush the shell of your ear, voice low, careful, asking—

“Would you like to go somewhere quieter?”

“I… I thought you’d never ask,” you murmur, voice weaker than you’d like. You swallow hard as Viktor takes your hand without a word, his grip warm and steady. With an effortless sweep, he hooks his cane off the chair, and then you’re moving—out of the too-bright, too-loud gym, into the cool air of the school corridors.

He leads with quiet confidence, and you follow, heartbeat pressing insistently against your ribs. The path is familiar even in the dim light, and it doesn’t take long before you recognise where he’s heading.

“The library?” you whisper as he guides you toward the building. “When you said quieter, I didn’t think you meant completely silent.”

Viktor smirks, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “Would you prefer the janitor’s closet? It is considerably less spacious.”

You scoff. “Not what I meant. Also—isn’t the library locked?”

His smirk deepens. “I know a door that’s never closed.”

And true enough, he leads you around the side, where an unassuming back door sits in shadow. With a practiced motion, he presses the handle, and it gives way with the softest click.

“You’ve done this before,” you accuse in a whisper.

He tilts his head in faux thoughtfulness. “I could neither confirm nor deny.”

Suppressing a grin, you slip inside after him, the familiar scent of books and dust immediately wrapping around you. The hush of the library feels different at night—more intimate, more secret.

You wander between the shelves, fingers trailing along the spines, exchanging glances through the gaps in the books. The flickering light from the streetlamps outside casts shadows between the rows, stretching and shifting as you move.

“So,” Viktor’s voice breaks the quiet, “how is your prom experience so far?”

You hesitate, considering. Then, with a small smile, you answer honestly, “Unexpected.”

Viktor hums, appearing between the books for just a second before disappearing again into another row. “Is that a good thing?”

You step forward, peering through the shelves, catching the flicker of his gaze as he does the same. “Yeah,” you say softly. “It’s nice.”

You keep this quiet game going, stealing glimpses of each other through gaps in the books, smiles tugging at your lips. The anticipation coils in your chest as you round the final shelf, and—

You meet at the end.

Viktor is already there, standing just a step away, watching you. His head tilts slightly, amusement flickering in his expression as he takes a measured step forward.

“And,” he murmurs, voice lower now, smooth and teasing. “Are you entertained?”

Your lips part, a heartbeat passing before you manage to answer. “Immensely.”

Viktor steps closer, the space between you shrinking with every slow, careful movement. His hand finds your waist, warm and sure, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your dress.

“And if I did this,” he murmurs, voice edged with amusement, “would you be more or less entertained?”

Your breath hitches at the closeness, heat blooming in your cheeks. But you refuse to falter, tilting your chin up just slightly. “More is… more likely.”

His lips twitch into something that’s not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. Then, with an unhurried grace, he lifts a hand and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers ghosting over your skin.

Your heart stumbles.

“And if, say, I did something like this?” he whispers, his mouth hovering achingly close to yours.

The warmth of him is dizzying, his breath fanning against your lips. Your mind struggles to keep up, to form words, to hold onto logic, but all you manage is a weak, “I think you have to be a little bit more specif—”

You don’t get to finish.

Because Viktor kisses you.

At first, it’s tentative—a soft press of lips, uncertain but intent, as if testing the waters of something fragile and new. His hand tightens at your waist, pulling you the barest bit closer, and you can’t help the soft, surprised sound that escapes you.

And then the hesitation melts.

The kiss deepens, slow but heady, and before you know it, your fingers are threading into his perfectly combed hair, tugging him closer. You feel him inhale sharply against your mouth, and then—

A low, barely-there noise escapes him as your fingers twist further, utterly ruining the neatness he’d so carefully maintained. His hand slides up your back, pressing against bare skin, and when you curl your fingers at the nape of his neck, Viktor shudders—actually shudders again—and lets out a soft, breathy huff against your lips.

Visibly flustered, Viktor pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, though the space between you remains minuscule. His breath is uneven, his carefully composed exterior slightly shaken, and the way his lips part—like he’s still chasing the remnants of the kiss—does nothing to help your own spiraling thoughts.

His fingers linger at your waist as if reluctant to let go, and then, in a quiet, almost sheepish voice, he asks, “So, um… Do you think I could keep entertaining you in a prom-unrelated environment in the near future?”

You blink, your mind catching up to his words, still dazed from the kiss, and then—

“Are you asking me out?”

The sheer wonder and hope in your voice nearly makes Viktor laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching. He exhales, shaking his head as if he can’t believe you can’t believe it.

“I—” He swallows, gaze flickering over your face, then exhales a soft chuckle. “Yes. Yes, I am asking you out.”

 “Yes, I would love for you to keep entertaining me then,” you say warmly.

A smile breaks across Viktor’s face, slow and triumphant, because in one fell swoop, he’s won both of what he wanted—an enthusiastic yes and a very eager I would love to.

And that’s all the permission he needs.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t second-guess it. He just leans in and kisses you again, his hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him. This time, there’s no hesitation, no lingering question marks hanging between you—just warmth, want, and the giddy realisation that this is happening.

Your fingers tangle into his already-mussed hair, and Viktor makes a noise against your mouth that you swear you feel more than hear, something between a sigh and a laugh. His arms tighten around you as he deepens the kiss, as if anchoring himself to this moment, to you.

Somewhere between kisses, between the rustle of clothes and the muffled sound of your shared, breathless laughter, a book teeters off the shelf and lands with a soft thud on the floor beside you. You barely notice. Prom may have been the reason you ended up here, but right now, the only thing that matters is Viktor, his lips on yours, the feeling of his fingers pressing into the small of your back, and the quiet, thrilling promise of whatever comes next.

[porcelaininkpot]

Surfer Asher.

Surfer Asher, whose favourite thing in the whole entire world is swimming out to shore after a long week of work and feeling seaspray against his skin as the sea roars beneath his feet, who feels like he can let go of the world's troubles so long as he has the ocean beneath him and his Babe by his side.

Surfer Asher, that feels most loved in the buzzy afterglow of a pack run at the beach, when him and his wolves can dogpile onto each other and see the bloom and blossom of a deep, rosy sunset in each other's wild, wolven eyes.

Surfer Asher, whose hair is naturally brunette but sun bleached beyond repair, so much so that's it's impossible to believe his hair's naturally bleached and not chemically treated. It carries over into his wolf form, making him one of the palest wolves in the pack despite being rather tanned as a human.

Once he taught Babe how to surf, and their hair became sun bleached, the two made a tradition of taking turns using chalk to smear coloured streaks into the other's hair.

Surfer Asher with deep crows feet and smile lines on his freckled, sunspotted face. They deepen whenever he laughs, and almost seem to glow whenever it's Babe making him laugh.

Surfer Asher that collects seashells from far out into the shore when he wipes out on a wave, and taught himself how to weave them into anklets, waistbeads and necklaces for Babe to wear.

David that buys Asher the highest of high end sunscreens, only for him to never remember to apply it before he dives in.

Asher that suddenly became extremely diligent about sunscreen when he started dating Babe, realllyyy wanting to apply sun screen but its just so hard and an extra pair of hands just makes everything so much more easier and 'Baaabe can you help me out? I think I missed a spot here, and here, and here, and-' and is shut up with a kiss.

Surfer Asher that was once challenged to a competition by Christian to see who the better surfer was, but three hours into the surf-off both of them forgot about the challenge because they were just having so much god damn fun with each other, laughing and teasing instead of sniping for the first time in their lives.

They gained a new respect for each other after that day, but of course that hasn't changed the fact that they still enjoy the occasional snipe shall the opportunity present itself.

Surfer Asher that takes Babe on constant beach dates, and once tried to impress them by doing a trick, but got so distracted by the way they looked in a swimsuit he lost focus and went flying instead, later begging Babe with puppy dog eyes to kiss him better wherever it hurt, which was everywhere.

Surfer Asher that's used the same surfboard since he was a teen, it was one gifted to him by Gabriel that matches with ones bought for David and Milo. Gabe claimed he just wanted to treat his pack pups, but Asher knows deep down that it was because he knew his family was too broke to ever be able to buy one, and was the kind of person to refuse to let his passion for the waves die.

Surfer Asher that never ever dewaxes his surfboard, which disgusts Milo to no end. One day Milo stole and dewaxed his board for him and Asher acted like he had sacrificed his firstborn child, and didn't forgive him until he made him a full course dinner as an apology.

Asher that after the inversion didn't allow himself near the seashore for months, feeling too guilty to let himself enjoy the waves like he used to. Asher that survived the shades, but was still drained of all life the longer he abstained from the ocean.

It was Babe that took his hands and drove him down to the seashore, that held him as he took quivering steps onto sand so soft it was as if the beach was caressing his wounds and scars, coaxing him back into it's cool embrace. It was Babe that swam out to sea with him and led him into his first barrel in what seemed like years, Babe that 'slipped' right after the lost his balance from sheer giddiness and Babe that swam up to him and tangled their fingers into his sea salted hair as they kissed him hard amidst the waves.

Asher Talbot who has devoted his life to the ocean, whose heart is abeat amidst tides and seafoam, but would give up surfing and ever touching the ocean again in a heartbeat if it was for his lover and for his pack.

[coolchasteboy]

"You want me to wear a thong bikini on vacation" I asked. "Yes babe. I bought it for you to wear while we are in San Juan" said Mina.

This was after she started feminizing me. I had worn a bikini one time before on vacation because my luggage got lost. But this time, I don't know, I just wasn't ready. "Mina, I think I just want to wear a speedo or something in San Juan." She frowned. I knew that frown. It meant she was disappointed. "Look Jennifer, we are going on this vacation as BFFs. I am going to get some dick on this vacation and so are you. And you are going to do it as Jennifer. And girls wear thong bikinis. Do you understand." I just looked at her and said "yes, I understand." With that Mina said she would pack my bag for me. We were to leave in the morning. "I will pick a travel outfit for you to wear" she said. I just nodded and made a bath so I could shave my body hair.

The next morning we got up super early. Our flight left at 6:30 am so we had to get to the airport by 5 am. "Jennifer, time to get up. I laid your outfit on the chair last night after you went to sleep." "I am tired" I whined. "Get up, get up, get up" she said. So I did.

My outfit was super cute. It was a cute white linen cotton romper, cute black thong undies, red bra, and some wedge heels. I got dressed, made us some tea, and we were off. The flight was uneventful. The flight attendant complimented me on my outfit. "OMG, you look super cute!" she said. The other flight attendant, a man, also complimented me. "I hope you are going somewhere fun where you can show off a bit" he said. I just laughed and said "the same place you are going, San Juan." "You know" he said "we have a two day layover in San Juan. If you want, we can hang out some while I am there." With that I gave him my number. He was a bit older than me and had really cute short brown hair with signs of grey. I could just totally run my hands through his hair. Mina was really happy. "He is really cute" she said. "I know" I replied back.

We got a cab to the hotel. We had a female driver. She was so beautiful. She asked what we were going to get up to while in San Juan. Mina said loudly "we are going to get so much dick while we are here." The driver responded "yeah, I hear that. You go girls!" With that she gave us the name of some clubs.

After being dropped off and getting checked in it was time for the beach. Me in my new thong bikini and Mina is a super sexy one piece. "Let's go" she said. "Put on a sarong or some shorts on the ride down to the beach." At the beach, we made our place and then my phone rang. It was Mitch, the airline attendant. "Yeah, come on down to the beach" I said. He was there shortly thereafter. OMG, did he look yummy. He was in a white bikini bathing suit. His package was huge. Mina had gone in the ocean and I was there trying to put sun screen on. "Let me help" he said. "Get on your hands and knees so I can put some on your back." So I did. I was there on all fours. He got behind and moved my legs apart and then came up behind me. I could feel his boner through his bikini pressing against my boi pussy. I started leaking cum at this point. He was slowly rubbing lotion in, stretching himself and his boner into me. "How does that feel" he said. I didn't know how to describe this feeling and said "It feels incredible against me." With that I moved my thong strap to the side. I could feel the tip of his cock outside of his bikini. It was against my pussy. "And this, how does this feel?" he asked. "Like heaven" I responded.

There was hardly anyone on the beach. I pushed back against his cock. I heard him lower his biking slightly. His cock started rubbing against my pussy. He then put one finger and then two inside me. He finger fucked me. "How about now" he asked. "Yeah, I like that. You can put you cock in me now if you want" I said. He slowly removed his fingers and position his swollen hard cock at my pussy entrance. "It is time" he said and then just pushed in me. I am not going to lie, it hurt, but at the same time it felt so good. And he just kept pushing in and out. I was so worried that someone would see us or call the cops. But I didn't dare ask him to stop. "Are you wearing a condom" I asked. "No" he responded, while still fucking me. Then his pace picked up and his breathing and then he just slammed me. I could feel his cock pulsate and I could feel his warm juices inside me. Still no one was around. When he finished he pulled out, put my thong back over my pussy, and pulled up his bikini. "Thank you" I said. He just patted me on the ass and left. I called him a couple of times that evening but he never answered, nor returned my voice mail or text.

When Mina got back she said "I saw him humping you while I was in the water." "He did more than that" I said. "He fucked his cum deep inside my pussy." "OMG, you little slut. I can't believe you got dick before I did" she said. "Mina, I feel like a cum slut now. I mean, I just let a man unload in me. I didn't really know him." Mina held me in her arms while the sun was setting on the beach. "Jennifer, that is what we woman do. It is hard to explain, but we just take men's cum. Sometimes it is from a boyfriend and sometimes from a stranger. We are just built this way. You are built this way. You are a woman." She then kissed my head. "I love you Mina" I said. "Thank you for making me into a woman."

Bodies Kissed by the Sun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[lilacxquartz]

Trouble in Paradis: Jealousy

levi ackerman x f!reader

plot: various one shots of yandere house husband levi ackerman x oblivious reader continued — scenario: thinking that you have a secret admirer, levi is not pleased — a/n: reminder, this is a no titans au • w.c: 800ish • masterlist • on ao3

Levi stared at the bouquet of flowers that sat over the breakfast, his fingers drumming against the wooden surface. The arrangement was delicately selected and put together with such care, that it made him seethe.

They were your favourite flowers too and even the binding paper was a colour you enjoyed. Meaning someone took the time to get to know your preferences, which didn’t sit right with him at all.

After all, why would someone else need to know that sort of thing? Didn’t he make it clear enough to everyone that you were his? Perhaps there was someone who simply just didn’t know about him and his role as your loving husband just yet.

If that was the case, then, well… that much had to change, because nobody had any business giving you flowers, especially not ones like these.

As he plotted his search, Levi leaned forward, extending his hand to grab at the flowers, rubbing the petals between his fingers to inspect them further. These were pricy. Likely from Petra’s floristry. Her assortments didn’t run cheap either, so someone splurged with you in mind.

How… unacceptable.

Just as he was done meticulously plucking the flower for all that it was worth, and right before he reached for another one, the front door flung open, revealing your return. Levi stopped in his tracks, dusting away the petals, turning his attention back to you.

“Finally got everything…” you opened up with, settling some produce on the counter. “Can you believe these were all free?”

Levi absentmindedly nodded, smiling for your victory but the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. No, he was too focused. He shouldn’t be though. At least not around you. With that, he sat up straighter, smoothing his expression into something warmer, allowing his eyes to wonder around all of the ingredients you managed to score.

“How wonderful,” he forced, “we’re going to eat so well this week.”

However, Levi also couldn’t resist.

“Where did you get those from?” he asked, pointing at the bouquet.

For a moment, you were dazed, but then blinked towards his guided direction. “Oh!” you happily chirped, unaware of his building internalised anger. “I got these from a customer just this morning. Isn’t that so sweet?”

Levi stilled and didn’t answer for a hot beat. He stared at you for a long time, studying both the way you reacted to receiving such a gift and how you spoke about it. You were oblivious. Of course you were. He was used to that much.

“Ah, of course,” he finally said, biting back what he truly wanted to say, “I'll be right back,” he added, slipping out of the front door before you could protest.

As Levi walked, he found himself walking into Petra’s floristry, ready to interrogate if needed, even when he knew he shouldn’t. He stormed inside, the bell above the door swinging with a violent ring that made the shopkeeper pause.

“W-welcome to…” Petra stammered, before realising it was just Levi, “oh, it’s just… can I help you?”

Levi didn’t waste a single second of time before he described word for word, petal for petal, the bouquet that ended up in your hands. “Who bought it?”

Petra blinked, her mind blanking as she tried to recall. “Right… well, um, I think… a military officer swung by for that one and his w—“

“—give me names, Petra,” Levi strained, catching her right before she could finish speaking. A military officer? How quaint. Perhaps it was someone who thought they had a chance. Not if he could help it.

Petra reluctantly gave him a wary glance before reciting the two names that sought the flowers. “It was a thank you gesture.”

Levi paused as a woman’s name popped up, but more importantly, the nature of the gift. He calmed his tone, reigning himself in, “A thank you gesture…?”

Petra nodded, looking a little less nervous now that he was calmer. “Yes, apparently she helped his wife out with something a while ago when she was sick, so they wanted to pick out a bouquet together as a gesture from them both.”

Levi stared at her, feeling the tension gradually leave his body. His shoulders sagged from his once taut posture and he let out a deep, strained breath.

“Ah,” he simply said, returning back to his regular, albeit still stoic self, leaving Petra just as uncertain as before, “in that case then,” he pondered before continuing, “I’ll take another bouquet exactly like that.”

“P-pardon?” Petra replied, although still idly moving to go and sort the arrangement, threading out flowers from pots and lining a sheet of paper on the counter.

“Add in some of those though,” Levi pointed at a few other varieties, knowing you liked those too.

So be it. You’ll have two bouquets on the table.

That much was fair wasn’t it?

His lovely wife who was so helpful, who deserved just a bit of extra praise. Seeing how happy those flowers made you too, thinking back to the glimmer in your eyes as your gaze glossed over them on the table…

Well, it was only fair that he brought you some every week now, wasn’t it?

Only the best for you, after all.

[xmintpiex]

The Bullet Point

wc: 3,721

Marriage and everything else that came with it were part of your dream. Not Sae's.

content: Sae Itoshi x fem!reader, sfw, sunshine!reader (she's def over the top), fluff, romance, childhood friends, shoujo inspired (specifically itazura na kiss), silly. AU.

The idea had sounded absolutely perfect when Mrs. Itoshi brought it up, the certainty in her voice, that twinkle in her eyes. Rin seemed to be all settled in his apartment now, and your dad had plenty of helping hands at his bakery. It was the perfect time to carry out the plan you had been dreaming about, tossing and turning and giggling with excitement late at night about for years now.

The plan, that dream that kept you going even when things got hard, when you felt sad and alone. The plan that Mrs. Itoshi fully supported you in, always coming up with the most brilliant ideas to add, Mr. Itoshi speaking up gently to maybe make them a little more realistic. The one that Rin would roll his eyes at and call you stupid over (he was just jealous! hmmph!). The one that your dad would shake his head fondly at, with amusement and that subtle pride in his smile.

Words written down in your old childhood diary, circled and doodled around, the page covered with hearts and stickers and the sign of age, yet still just as true.

So you bought that long one-way plane ticket from Japan to Spain that same day, spirits high and determination unbreakable. After all, Sae was all alone in that foreign land, left to fend for himself for so many years, you couldn't bear to leave him like that anymore! Now you finally had the chance to be there with him! Yes, that’s right, you would be there to cook his favorite meals (..the ones that fit his highly selected meal plan anyways..), make sure his luxury apartment wasn't just a house but a home (cozy pillows, photos, and matching toothbrush holders and so much more!), and cheer him on during each and every one of his games, in person now!

Your smile was still so bright as you somehow managed to hail a taxi driver at the airport with a mixture of your nonexistent Spanish and incredibly poor English (..perhaps you should have studied a little more...) and showed them the address that you had saved on your phone for months. The address that was memorized by heart, the one that you had already sent a plethora of letters and care packages to.

Your eyes were dazzling as you got out of the cab and stood in front of that sleek, beautiful apartment complex that Sae was residing in. You could hear your heart beating so fast at the thought of finally being able to see Sae after 4 months of being apart, and that this time it would be permanent, it wouldn’t be just another short visit. The apartment no longer just the photo pinned to your bedroom wall, your dreams no longer only confined to the touch of the glossy paper and magazine cutouts beneath your fingertips.

It was only when you got that panicked phone call from Mrs. Itoshi, as you were trying and failing to get the apartment complex’s security guard to let you in that your bright smile diminished a bit. Because Sae was not currently in Spain. He was in Germany, as was Rin, and would be there for at least a month due to some football event he had joined.

The twinkle in your eyes seemed to die a bit and your smile became so much smaller as you came to the sudden realization that you were in a foreign country, two large heavy suitcases at your side, with no understanding of the language and no place to stay. You sank to the ground, hugging your knees as you inhaled heavily to hold back your tears as fear clouded your thoughts.

But!

You would be okay because you had the power of a credit card! And just like that, you popped right back up, your determination burning brighter than the scorching sun above you (the young security guard might have been looking at you with a look of utmost fear, but that didn't really matter right now).

So you decided to go for a little walk around the neighborhood, taking in the fresh crisp ocean breeze, the sound of distant seagulls and crashing waves soothing your worries. Stopping for a delicious lunch at that cute little restaurant you spotted (giggling to yourself as you pictured eating there with Sae next time, oh so romantic!), noticing a cute little storefront that seemed to have been recently sold (perfect for a bakery you mused dreamily) before you managed to get another taxi to take you right back to the airport.

You miss how the security guard of Sae’s apartment complex so desperately tried to wave you back over, his black cell phone pressed to one of his ears as you excitedly looked at your trip itinerary for Germany in the back seat of the taxi.

The first thing Eita Otoya notices about you is your cute, sunny smile as he sits down next to you on the crowded plane and your excitement and relief at the realization that he also speaks Japanese. The second thing he notices is that dainty rose gold ring around your finger, twisted and dotted with little white diamonds, reminiscent of ocean waves in the sunset. It looks vaguely familiar, a small tickle in the back of his head that he can’t quite pinpoint. He assumes it must be some trendy designer jewelry piece he saw somewhere like that overly expensive bracelet that so many of his ex-girlfriends had wanted him to buy.

The third thing he notices about you is your soft, sparkly eyes, the light flush of your cheeks when he asks you if you have a boyfriend (he’s learned the hard way to always ask that question), and how you bashfully shake your head ‘no’. How cute. He assumes he’s in the clear then, to have you be his friend for a bit while he stays in Berlin, he’s already picturing taking you out to restaurants, enjoying a good meal together, having you cheer him on, and a bunch of other things with a cute girl like you at his side.

Eita Otoya does not notice the bubble of giddy laughter that is barely contained behind your bright smile, that far-off, dreamy look in your eyes after he had mentioned the term boyfriend. Because you definitely did not have a boyfriend.

Not anymore!

Rin Itoshi is already feeling a migraine forming from the grueling experience of having to sit between his two most obnoxious teammates on that 2-hour plane trip from Paris. He thinks he’s officially lost it, that he’s seeing hallucinations now because he swears he sees your dumb smiling face in the goddamn Berlin airport. Impossible. There's no way, even you aren't stupid enough to plan something like this, right?

…

Right?

…

Sae Itoshi’s manager thinks today is the day he will die. If not from the extreme levels of stress he is currently experiencing, it will be from Sae Itoshi’s cold wrath. The poor man is sweating, his normally pristine suit rumpled and drenched, sleeves rolled up, glasses sliding off his damp face as he has his phone pressed to his ear, laptop open as he desperately scrolls through credit card transactions and airline information.

Sae is still in the midst of his interview, answering bluntly and clinically in his typical manner yet his words seem even more curt than normal. Left foot subtly bouncing, hands locked together, cold teal eyes glancing back to his frantic manager between questions.

Immediately taking his phone out of his pocket the moment the cameras are turned off and everyone is packing up. Jaw clenching when the number he calls leads straight to voicemail.

It’s not until you’re at the hotel lobby (Otoya-kun's suggestion, oh he's so nice, you're so happy you made a new friend!), taking out your card to pay for your hotel room, it finally dawns on Otoya about where exactly he had seen your ring before. His eyes zeroing in on that very, very familiar name printed on the credit card in your hands.

Oh.

(Ninja Art: Strategic Exit)

You're done paying for your hotel room, excited to finally put your suitcases somewhere and then go eat at that amazing restaurant Otoya kept mentioning, turning to face him only to find him nowhere to be found. Brows furrowed and lips pouting in concern and confusion as you look around the hotel lobby, trying to figure out where your new friend could have gone.

"You."

That familiar voice, the one that you could recognize with your eyes closed, the one you sometimes fall asleep to while on facetime with. The voice engrained into your heart. Monotone and cold yet anything but (especially right now). Your smile is the brightest it's been all day, the brightest it's been in months really, suitcases and hunger and exhaustion (and Otoya-kun's mysterious disappearance) all forgotten from your mind as you rush over to him, flinging your arms around him.

"Sae!"

Your heart so warm, beating so brightly, so bubbly like your favorite fizzy candy. A feeling you've always felt with Sae.

Like when you were 6 and you dropped your ice cream cone.

You’re in absolute shock, ready to cry yet again and Sae does not want to deal with that again, he doesn't like it when you cry. You've had too many things to cry about recently, but at least this situation is something he can try to control. So he shoves his own ice cream cone into your hand, hoping that’ll be enough. It’s something he’s used to doing for his younger brother, just the most effective way to stop your nearly endless tears. Another crybaby in his life to take care of. Your small hands linked together as you walk around the neighborhood park, your shimmering eyes glued to him.

Or when you’re 8 and you and your dad and the Itoshi family go out for your weekly movie night.

An established ritual of going to see a movie together with reservations ready at that yummy restaurant later, something your families have done ever since you could remember. The movie was your choice this time, a story of a mermaid becoming a human princess and living in a seaside castle with her adorable sea creature friends and her beloved prince, fixing all their problems with the power of love and friendship.

Your eyes barely left the movie screen as they dazzled in excitement at how the mermaid princess and her human prince danced and spun around on that beautiful balcony overlooking the ocean. The warmth in your heart and the little tears of happiness that bubbled in your eyes as the prince and the mermaid got married.

You still weren’t too sure what marriage was, all you knew was that it meant you could sleep in the same bedroom like Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi did, that you would love each other forever, make each other happy forever, even if you couldn’t see each other (like how your dad visited your mama every year, a fresh flower bouquet, warm glossy eyes, and soft smiles). An endless playdate with your favorite person in the whole universe, always happy and together!

That was what you wanted, that was what you dreamed of. So you declared during dinner, a little too loudly in the quiet restaurant, that you had a dream of what you wanted to do as an adult. Clumsily standing up from your seat, nearly tipping your water cup over, face scrunched and rosy with determination and courage and too much soda.

Your declaration that you and Sae would get married when you were older and live in a seaside castle just like in the movie and live together forever and ever (and become mermaids and other such crucial details). Your small warm hand had gently grabbed Sae’s hand during your declaration and his teal colored eyes bore down at where your hands were linked. “Okay.” He had simply said in that monotone voice.

Your dad and Mr. Itoshi looked at you wide-eyed before laughing heartily, your dad reaching over to ruffle your head. Mrs. Itoshi nodded enthusiastically, overwhelmed by your absolute cuteness as she sniffled proudly, already calling you her precious, adorable daughter-in-law, already envisioning and planning a grand wedding as Mr. Itoshi gently rubbed her shoulder in hopes she wouldn't make this even more of a scene.

Rin grumbled and huffed and told you that was stupid, that something like that was impossible and even if it were, Sae wouldn’t live in some stupid seaside castle! His big brother would live in a football stadium with him, the two of them the #1 and #2 best strikers in the whole entire world!

You were pouty and your eyes full of tears, like the little crybaby you were as you bickered with Rin (h-how dare he! You were older! Hmmph! Why did he never listen to you as he did with Sae!). Sae was silent through the whole thing, still chewing on his bite of pasta, quiet as he usually was when the two of you harmlessly fought over him, his free hand still in your grasp. Until finally cutting in.

"We can do both."

Rin eventually agrees that you can have your castle across from their football stadium and that you can host your tea parties to celebrate every single game they will win. You reluctantly pout back that he can be a mermaid too and have sleepovers in your castle…if he listens to whatever you say!

Amongst the laughter and chatter and the sound of Mrs. Itoshi’s camera, as she forever immortalized this moment, Sae Itoshi added another minor detail to that small list of bullet points he kept in his head.

It’s when you’re 10 and you’ve made your first batch of homemade cookies all by yourself without the help of your dad (aside from helping you with the oven stuff).

Your fingers are a little burnt (and so are the cookies), but your eyes are sparkling, smile bright and hopeful as you rush off skipping to the neighborhood park to meet up with Sae and Rin, holding the little red cookie tin to your chest.

"They taste burnt."

Sae says matter-of-factly after a bite, chewing slowly as if that would help him make a proper critique.

"Yeah, they're burnt! Bleh! Burnt!"

Of course, Rin mimicking him before adding his own little flair.

Your lip wobbling, lashes fluttering slowly, eyes getting hot and wet with tears.

Sae reaching into the little tin for another one and then another until they're all gone, eating each one despite your tearful, pouty whines.

"They're not bad. Just keep making them, I'll eat all of them."

It's when you’re 13 and Sae is leaving.

Leaving to go live in a whole other country, away from you. Your tears are large and already seeping into Sae’s brand-new jersey as you wish and whine so badly that you could go with him. He’s quiet, and calm, telling you to stop being a big baby, saying he’ll be back for a visit in a few months probably. His hand in yours, a subtle squeeze, as his other hand gently pinches your pouty lips. You'll be good for him, right?

A little moment of hesitation before he suddenly leans in, cheeks just as red as yours, his lips clumsy and quick, a sweet little press against yours. Your eyes on him, wide and bubbly, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Your lips wobbling as you attempt to pucker them, looking up at him expectantly in hopes he will do it again.

He lets out that rare little noise you adore, that soft chuckle, the corner of his lips slightly upturned, only your silly face in his teal eyes. He leans in and you perk up excitedly, wanting to make sure your second kiss is perfect, longer, closing your eyes, hands trembling.

Only for him to pinch your lips again with his fingers.

"Crybabies don't get second kisses unless they're good."

And when you’re 14 and Sae is visiting for a few days.

It’s a cold winter day, full of fluffy white snow and you’re bundled up tight in the red scarf that Mrs. Itoshi gifted you. It’s just the two of you because Rin refuses to leave his room (he’s been in a really bad mood recently, you're still figuring out how to cheer him up..both of them up).

The two of you walk around the park as the snow falls, Sae is quiet, even more than normal, as you point things out or tell him about some of the things that have happened while he was gone. Your gloved hands are entwined, as always when the two of you walk. His hand feels different, a little bigger, a little thinner, a little more rough, just like the rest of him. His teal eyes are dull, trained on the snowy path you walk, before settling onto your obnoxious beaming smile, the flush of your cheeks, the way he looks reflected in your eyes.

Pulling him to go sit on a snowy bench before taking out that familiar old cookie tin, full to the brim of sugar cookies, sprinkled with red and blue sprinkles, edges a little cracked.

"I'm on a diet, you know."

Yet he's reaching for one, pressing the allegedly "heart-shaped" cookie to his lips and taking a slow bite. Your eyes watching every little moment of his mouth, your heart beating nervously and your gloved hands fisted with nervousness.

"Better than last time."

Your smile too bright, it could rival the sun.

He reaches for another only to be tugged down, his lips unceremoniously pressed against yours, too sudden, your nose nearly hitting his. Crumbs still on his lips, now on yours. Sweet like vanilla and butter.

So perfect.

It’s when you’re 16, having another one of your long-distance phone calls.

You babble endlessly as always, phone pressed to your ear as your legs sway back and forth as you lay on your plushie-covered bed. Sae, as usual, is mainly silent as he continues with his gym routine, responding with an occasional grunt or ‘hmm’ as you go on and on. His ears full of nothing except the clinking of gym equipment and your loud, cheery voice. You mention your new friend who you’re going to the movies with this weekend, the boy at your school who offered you his umbrella on a rainy day (so kind!), and who always wants to eat lunch with you.

"Didn't you fail your math test? Don't waste your time on stupid things like that and study instead."

"..S-Sae!!" (As usual…he was right.)

A few days later you receive a small package from Spain, sent via express mail, a little silver ring, and a simple four-word note.“Do not take off.”

You're ecstatic, showing off to everyone who will listen (and Rin of course). Spamming Sae's messages with way too many selfies. Your hand and that sparkling little ring the main focus in all of them, receiving nothing back but that little 'read' indication and a single "go study" message.

It's when you're 17, sat at the Itoshi's kitchen table.

Going through the recent sports magazine that Sae graced the cover of, your handy scissors at your side as you happily recount Sae's most recent interview to those present.

(Your smile too wide as you trace over that familiar silver ring that's hung around his neck, barely visible under his jersey, fingertips against the cold, glossy paper.)

Rin with his arms crossed and trying to look as disinterested as possible while Mrs. Itoshi happily nods from where she's typing away at her work laptop. But you give Rin that smile that always makes him huff, nervous at whatever dumb thing you're going to do now, seeing him twitch and try to hide his flustered look as you produce a second magazine of the same issue, still in its plastic wrap.

"This way you can cut out Sae's pictures and have them on your wall too! Let's make dream boards together, Rin!"

"S-shut up!"

It's right now, settled in the back seat of the car as the driver drives the two of you back to where Sae is staying, your head on Sae's shoulder.

You're already fast asleep, your exhaustion, the happiness of your heart catching up with you (and the jet lag). Hands entwined. Matching wedding rings glowing under the bright passing city lights, the softness of the moon.

His phone is silenced, lighting up for a moment, the notification of his new interview being posted, before the screen fades back to darkness, tucked away in his bag next to that red cookie tin you had excitedly taken out of your suitcase. For now, the interview was irrelevant, forgotten in the midst of your peaceful snores, his soft, amused smile.

But in the morning, when Sae was already well into his morning routine, you would be cozy and warm and still so sleepy under the silky covers. He would then take the time, sat at the small hotel room patio with his kombucha, to skim over his interview.

'Sae Itoshi Confirms Marriage Rumors.'

He knew that once you woke up, once your sleepy, jet-lagged state gave way to your usual bubbly energy, you'd be over the moon. Squealing and giggling and saying how you needed to save the article in your scrapbook. Nearly jumping on him as you showered him in too much affection, messy little kisses, and cheeks pressed together. Undeniable proof of your dream coming true, solid like that ring around your finger, like the marriage certificate framed back in the apartment in Spain.

Your dream.

But not Sae's.

Because for Sae, marriage was not a dream, not some goal he would eventually achieve when he deemed it time. It had never been any of that. You and your overly burning love, your too-radiant smiles and laughter, your crybaby tears, your warm hugs, and noisy kisses, and sweet sugar cookies were just truths. Undeniable facts in his life. Your presence in his life, your relationship never a dream, never a goal, never a checkmark, but a bullet point. A bullet point on that little list of things that were fundamental to Sae Itoshi's life.

[crush-itis]

ྀི. ̞. ১ ✿ ㅤ𓈒 crush-itis

ㅤㅤ . ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ㅤ. 𓂂 Stardew Valley ⊹

bachelors x gn!farmer ꒱ 🎀 a date with them

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

♥︎： My first post on Stardew Valley x reader! Romantic, mostly sfw + light suggestive themes ♡〜（ゝ。∂）

♥︎： The night is still young, and the moon had already taken it’s throne in the starry skies. While the villagers begin clicking their front doors locked, you secretly slip into Alex’s house as he told you to. He loves (salmon) dinners, especially for dates. His grandparents are already tucked in bed—snoozing—so you two have enough time to eat, converse, laugh, and hold each other. He lit candles on the dinner table, prepared a bouquet of flowers of your favourite kind, and cooked everything. Then perhaps if the two of you are finished eating, he’d suggest a few more moments of your time… taken to his bedroom. It’s a simple, provincial date, but he’ll keep this memorable day to himself.

♥︎： By the beachside where his house is near, he prepared a humble picnic for the two of you. A red, gingham blanket sits, sprawled on the warm sand, and a basket full of your favourite snacks, foods, and his are stored. He brought wine glasses (if you drink), and a couple novels of his favourite he’d think you’d like. He loves reading, so if you don’t mind, he’d blabber all about his favourite classic romantic literature, and if you happen to like reading as well, he’d possibly fall for you more. But besides that, he’d also insist on feeding you grapes or something.

♥︎： It’s late evening, and your hands are in your pockets (or bag), making sure if you have your movie tickets. Harvey bought both of your snacks, and a few of your popcorn accidentally spilt out of the checkered paper bag. You two sit next to each other in the theatres, plopping snacks into your mouth. As you watched the ads play, Harvey gently let your head rest on his shoulder, and a tentative hand slipped onto your thigh. It was hard to react since you were both out in public. Then, he just had to let his hand brush towards your inner thigh. It lingered, until he finally let go, and draped a warm arm on the back of your seat. It was quite awkward, but kind of romantic.

♥︎： You two go out in Zuzu City once again, but for a karaoke night. He’s terrible at singing, but you can’t help but fall harder for him because of how silly, and cute he is. You two share laughs while singing songs, and even pretend like the both of you are in a podcast. Sam will order a few drinks, and snacks then take a break after to soothe both your hoarse voices. The night grew, and you glanced at your phone to check the time. Suddenly, Sam abruptly pulled you into a kiss, trying to get your attention from the time. You didn’t expect that, but you soon melted into his touch, not even realizing how much time had already passed.

♥︎： You, and Sebastian also visit Zuzu City to go in the arcade, laughing about as you two step inside the dim lit, colourful building. Neon colours flashed on the games, and trendy music beamed in the hidden speakers. When your attention was quickly steered towards the claw machines with stuffed animals inside, Sebastian would help win you a few plushies of your favourite. After having your hands now full with big, fuzzy friends, you two then played the big arcade games. Everything inside was full of distractions, like the colourful lights, the loud soundtracks of the arcades, childrens’ chattering… and yet, Sebastian’s eyes were completely glued to you. He smiled softly, breathing a joke into your ear before you two continued playing with the bright red controller

♥︎： The sun was setting, and a picture of orange, pink, and yellow danced in the sky, the colours clashing together into a warm, alive painting. Shane let out a chuckle as you two plopped yourselves onto a nearby bench, licking your ice creams you both bought from the ice cream truck. You pointed out these clouds that look like puppies or kittens, and he’d watch, pretending to see whatever you’re seeing. He’d exchange a few glances at you, and your ice cream, asking if he could have a taste. With you still licking your own, you nodded, but to your surprise, he leaned in, and kissed you. He tried the creamy treat on your tastebuds with your saliva infused. It was a heady treat, and he liked that particular flavour.

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ׅ ׅ 𝒯hank 𝒴ou !!

[accio-sriracha]

Because @bradleysass politely held a gun to my head...

SNIPPET TIME

This one is from (you guessed it) another unpublished wip of mine called "My Brother's Best Friend"

"Uh... help yourself to anything." Regulus paused as he gestured to the fridge, "Especially since you bought most of it."

Potter just chuckled and toed off his shoes, walking across the small, one room flat to plop down on Sirius' mattress,

"Thanks, but I already ate."

Regulus' brows furrowed.

So he wasn't here for Sirius or food? Those were the only two things he'd ever swung by for.

"Did you... Did you want me to leave?" He asked, unsure of himself.

Potter looked up, blinking in surprise, "Why would I ask you to leave your own flat?"

Regulus shrugged, "I don't know, we've never really spoken before and Sirius isn't here, so..."

"I know he isn't here." He replied, "I came here to see you."

Regulus was pretty sure if brains could stutter: his was.

Potter laughed at his dumbfounded expression,

"I told Padfoot I would try to get to know you a little better. He wants us to get along."

"We get along." Regulus protested.

Potter stared doubtfully at him.

In truth, most of the few conversations they had were arguments, particularly about Regulus not wanting to take Potter's hand outs.

He was otherwise usually set in his ways about ignoring him, Regulus heard Potter tell Sirius once that he was surprised someone could show so little emotion all the time.

Which is probably why Potter looked so amused now, staring at the blatant shock on his face. He'd never been caught so thoroughly off guard before.

"Right." He nodded, looking away.

He schooled his normal mannerisms back into place.

So what if Potter wanted to hang out with him? That shouldn't be that earth shattering. He didn't even care.

"Don't do that." Potter said suddenly.

Regulus looked back at him, eyebrow raised, "Don't do what, Potter?

"Don't shut me out. I saw it, you were opening up to me just a second ago."

And there it was, Regulus was floored again.

"What do you want from me?" He asked.

It was the only question that could make it through the spinning in his mind.

Surely Potter wasn't honestly trying to be his friend?

"Is it really hard to believe that I just enjoy your company?" Potter asked.

Regulus snorted, filling a cup with tap water and ignoring the bitter metallic taste when he drank from it,

"Yeah, actually, it is."

"How can I prove it to you?" His voice dropped a little, like he was sharing a secret.

Regulus felt his stomach twist,

"What?" He whispered, unintentionally dropping his voice as well, sharing in this strange secret between the two of them.

Potter stood from the mattress, walking over to their small kitchen with a determined look in his eyes, the same kind of determination Regulus saw whenever he made a bet he knew he could win,

"How can I prove to you that I enjoy your company?"

"I'm not a game, Potter." Regulus' sharp tone was back, "I'm not something for you to toy with because you're bored."

"This isn't a game to me." Potter's voice was earnest, the most genuine Regulus had ever heard it.

Potter, the man who walked around with a joke always on the tip of his tongue.

The man who called him 'Reggie' because he knew how much he hated it.

The man who's spent every minute of the time they'd known each other making Regulus' life as difficult as possible.

And yet here he was, so much honesty in his eyes, so much emotion in his voice, telling Regulus he wanted to be friends with him.

"You're serious?" He asked.

It was a test, he knew neither of them could resist the 'Sirius' joke.

Potter held his gaze, warm brown to cutting silver,

"Yes."

And suddenly Regulus couldn't breathe.

[boringsickness]

Bernard feeling jealous but completely unable to express it because he's being raised in a house of neglect. He's so used to speak and not being heard that at some point he simply stopped.

Cue the cult, his relationship with Tim and his jealousy.

It's not often and he's definitely not jealous of Steph or any other Tim's exes or close friends.

It happens sometimes though, when people make a comment too much about Tim and Kon or they joke way more than necessary about sex with his exes.

But Bernard says nothing. Never.

He just gets this vagant look in his eyes and his nails slowly start to cut his palms because of his hands being closed into tight fists. And if the fists are too obvious ("too much a cry for attention" as his father would say) he'd cover his hands and drag his nails on his thighs. Red marks all over his skin, the scratching of something on fabric loud but still not enough to let them stop talking.

And if the sound or the scratching was heard or seen, he could always smile it off and go out of his way to step aside. To leave the comments behind and find something to eat or drink, to dampen down this stupid feeling and the bile fighting its way up his throat.

Thank god, Tim is observant and thank god some of his brothers are not cruel.

Because Tim always takes him from the wrist, letting his hands relax slowly and pulling his wounded palms to his lips. Soft mouth kissing away the hurt, eyes searching for something into Bernard's until Bernard can nod backs. Body not rigid anymore.

Surprisingly, when he's around, Jason is a good help too. Nudging his shoulder hard enough to startle him but not so much to completely bodyslam him. Just the necessary to let Bernard think about something that wasn't his boyfriend being seen with someone else better. He never said anything to Jason, Jason definitely didn't either, but he offered a shy smile. A silent thank you.

What was even funnier, in an ironic way, was Bruce patting his shoulder as to say 'theyre idiots, good luck. Ik you can handle it' and Kon in all his glory laughing and shaking his head if he was present.

"they don't know what they're talking about. No one will ever look at someone with as much love as Tim has for you and you for him. You were made for each other. Two halves of the same deranged freak."

And weirdly enough, it helped. They all did in their methods.

Especially Tim's way of kissing him harder when alone, of tracing his body with fingers and tongue and lips and whispering nonsense on his skin.

Bernard always told him that he didn't need to, it was okay. It was funny. Ah ah, they were just jokes.

But Tim never bought it, when it happened, and he always gave him a bit more attention. A bit more of himself completely bare and vulnerable and real, making Bernard fall even more in love.

Of course, Bernard made sure to do so too. To shower him in as much love and care.

They were complicated and silly and freaks and a tad ridiculous but they worked. Now Bernard only needed to speak freely about his jealousy without leaving visible traces on his body. (But Tim was as much as a mess as him so it was mostly okay. They'd work at it, like always. They had time. All their lives, specifically)

[eggcompany]

Strength, Trust, and Muzzles Part 1

Viktor would never be the "omega" in their relationship. He was too... Everything a alpha should be. Confident, knowing, dominate, protective. Viktor was a perfect alpha. But so was Jayce. But Jayce was always willing to be under Viktor, to submit. He just didn't know he'd be so nervous to get bitched down.

Alpha/Alpha with some BDSM elements.

Jayce was never going to make Viktor his omega. Sure sometimes he topped, sometimes he nipped at the back of his neck, and yes sometimes he got knotheaded and begged to put a baby in the other man. 

But Viktor would never be his omega. Viktor would never be under Jayce, never submit to him. 

Jayce was however resigned to the fact that when they did mate, for the first real time, both in rut, he wouldn’t be the one getting bitched down. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be under Viktor, he loved being under Viktor, loved getting fucked with his perfect hard as nails cock, letting it reached deep inside him and rub against his prostate until he cried, but he was nervous. 

Nervous because he was a knothead who got dick dumb every time he was in rut. He got the head rush that Viktor never did. Viktor was always so level headed in his ruts, thoughtful and in full control. Jayce wasn't in control, he was a slave to his instincts. He was nervous he’d turn it around on Viktor by accident, end up ruining it, making the bond unstable or worse, not set at all. 

Viktor was calmed down in his soul, calm and relaxed, as he took his inducers. He would fall into rut a day after Jayce. He was calm because he was finally ready to mate with Jayce, after three years, they would finally seal the deal. 

He had all the supplies he needed. The workers at the sex shop knew him well after his many trios. He had his bondage mittens, to keep Jayce’s hands to himself because he was always so handsy. And a spreader bar, the strongest one he could find, and a full set of dildos, from thin small ones to one that was only slightly smaller than himself, a full set of five. The handcuffs he had weren’t from the sex shop, they were real and bought from someone Viktor knew as a much younger man. 

He felt calm and confident as he fell asleep next to Jayce, his soon-to-be mate smelled spicy and rich like grilled seasoned meat and smoke. Tomorrow he’d be in full rut, probably wake up with a knot in his pants. 

Jayce was out of his mind. How did he ever think getting bitched down would ever be a good idea. He woke up warm and hard, cozy in bed ready to fuck whatever Viktor offered, his ass, his mouth, his hand, the fleshlight tucked between his thighs, whatever it didn’t matter as long as Viktor was right th-

“Vik?” Jayce called out when he noticed he was alone in their bed. It was cold and empty where his mate should be. Jayce got up and yawned as he made his way to the doorway. He was hot. Too hot. His dick hurt where it hung heavy between his legs. 

“Viktor? Baby where’d you go?” Jayce asked into the empty space of their apartment. He looked around, the sun was coasting through the gauzy curtains that covered all the windows from onlookers. Viktor loved those, they let the sun in but kept people from snapping pictures through the glass. 

Jayce shook his head, getting out of his thoughts as he heard something in the kitchen. 

Viktor. Jayce watched him, dressed in his loose boxers and borrowed tshirt, looking beautiful and frumpy. His hair was a mess, his soft brace on his leg as he used his cane to move around the kitchen. 

“You’re beautiful” Jayce said as he watched Viktor stir a pot of oatmeal. Simple and warm. Viktor turned around, pink cheeked and a heat roaring behind his eyes. 

“On your knees beside my chair. Get a cushion from the couch.” Viktor said voice dug deeper, commanding yet cool and even. Jayce’s cock twitched, jumping as he moved to the couch grabbing one of the square pillows there. 

Viktor settled himself into his dining room chair, a big bowl of oatmeal in front of him, cinnamon puffed on the top. 

Viktor ignored as Jayce knelt down beside him, hugging into his leg, rubbing his forehead over his bare thigh. Jayce loved Viktor, he smelled so good, rich and manly, nice and hot. Jayce was content to sit there and smell Viktor to run his hands up and down his legs, petting the dark hair there. 

Viktor looked at Jayce, his blown dark eyes, his sleep messed hair, his body heavy and relaxed even as his cock laid ignored and heavy. 

He took a handful of his hair and pulled back, making Jayce’s head fallback easily. Jayce gasped and looked up at him. 

“Open.” Viktor ordered and Jayce opened his mouth with a smile, tongue peaking past his teeth. Viktor fed him, making sure the spoon didn’t hit his teeth. Jayce hummed and kept his head up, as he rested against his thigh. 

Soon the bowl was empty and they were both full, ready for the day. Jayce’s hips were swaying, cock smearing precum across Viktor’s ankle and the pillow below. 

“We’re taking it easy today, Jayce, tomorrow is going to be very difficult on you. Your body, your mind.” Viktor said as he ran his hand through his boyfriend's hair, massaging as he went, nails dragging on his scalp. 

Jayce smiled and nodded, kneeling up to kiss Viktor’s palm down to his wrist, right over his scent gland, sucking on it lightly, getting a hit of Viktor’s rich smell. 

“Go make a spot on the couch. I need to clean up and take my medicine. I'll come suck you off when I’m done.” Viktor instructed leaning down to whisper the last sentence close to Jayce’s face before kissing him. Jayce moaned into the kiss rising up on his knees, pushing to be closer to his mate. 

“I love you” Jayce said as he pulled back breathless. He loved kissing Viktor. Loved everything Viktor did. Loved him so much. 

“I know. Go put on a show for us and I’ll be there in a moment.” Viktor said and patted Jayce’s cheek, his hands were cold against his blush hot cheek. Jayce nodded and got up, legs wobbly as his cock cried to be touched. Patience. 

He got to the couch and had to push down the urge to tear into the fabric, instead he fanned out their throw blankets the four different fabrics making him happy as he laid them all out making a spot for Viktor, pillows in just the right spot to support his joints. 

He sat beside the couch, cross cross on the floor as he picked a movie Viktor liked, dinosaurs Viktor liked dinosaur movies. He absentmindedly petted at his cock, a few squeezes around the base, smearing the precum down, rubbing his thumb lightly over the frenulum. It felt good, not enough to cum, but good. 

“Do you want a handjob? Alpha can jerk you off if you want baby.” Viktor asked as he came into the room, settled into his place on the couch. 

Jayce thought about it, Viktor gave good head, perfect suction and that talented tongue but he only took in the tip. Viktor’s handjobs however… both hands on his cock and he always talked, that’s what got Jayce closer than anything else, Viktor talking to him. 

“Handjob.” Jayce said and crawled up onto the couch, flopping back onto Viktor’s chest, his brace was stiff and cold under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, pressing into Jayce’s back as he reached around his body. 

“You’re so heavy. You’re already close huh? Yes, look at this drippy thing.” Viktor said voice quiet as he reached around Jayce’s body to wrap a hand around his cock, his other one drifting down to fondle at his hefty balls. 

Jayce groaned and relaxed, leaning back to let Viktor take his weight. He moaned as Viktor gave his sack a squeeze as his other hand twisted around the tip of his cock. Viktor started a tight but slow pace, second hand going to pet over his stomach up to his chest. 

“Beautiful. My beautiful mate. So pretty. Cum for me, Jayce, let it out.” Viktor encouraged as a hand came up and gave one of his pecs a squeeze, the muscle giving up easily. Jayce whined and bucked up into his hand, hips jumping as he chased his orgasm. Viktor sped his hand up, his other hand coming down to roll over the tip. 

“Show Alpha that you can cum, messy boy, come on.” Viktor said, lips right on Jayce’s ear, voice light and teasing. Jayce moaned, a deep noise coming from his chest as his hands wrapped around Viktor’s legs where they were on either side of him. He thrusted a few more times as Viktor’s voice floated through his head, the words lost but the feeling was there. 

Jayce groaned as he came, hips twitching. Viktor’s hand came down to squeeze the base, right over the slight swell of his knot, the other coming his tip, making his cum splash back down onto him. Jayce whined, looking down at himself as buckets of cum came rushing back down onto his shaft, puddling on his hips and belly. 

“So good, good boy. That was so good. Let’s get all this cleaned up and you can lay on me. Sound good?” Viktor said as he let his clean hand run up and down Jayce’s stomach, calming him as he caught his breath. 

Jayce breathed in Viktor’s smell, nothing else existed around him except Viktor. He just felt foggy in his head, eyes watching as Viktor’s hands, perfect strong yet thin hands, came back to his still hard cock with tissues from the side table. He couldn’t feel as they cleaned him up, his knot only a quarter popped but enough he didn’t feel as the dry tissue rubbed across his tip. 

“I love you, Vik.” Jayce said as he moved a bit, sitting up enough Viktor could get a full breath. He felt the dumb heft getting heavier in his brain. He felt like his thoughts were floating away, the heat in his belly, his hunger for Viktor, it was the only thing he could focus on. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re doing so well.” Viktor praised as he sat up himself, just enough to wipe his hand on his shirt before pulling it up and off. Jayce liked skin to skin, so when they settled back onto the couch, he purred happily, laying lax as Viktor played with his chest hair, occasionally giving his soft pecs a grope, pinching a nipple teasingly every so often.

By the time late lunch arrived, neither of them wanted to get up. Jayce was laying face down, head resting on Viktor’s chest, watching the show on the TV absently as Viktor ran his fingers through his hair with one hand, phone in the other. Viktor ordered food, cringing at the fees applied. 

When it arrived, popcorn chicken and mashed potatoes and a few biscuits. Jayce liked that food when he was in rut. Jayce was knelt down on the floor again, eating from Viktor’s fingers until he was finished. They settled back in for the show again, this time Jayce was sitting down on the floor with Viktor’s legs hanging over his shoulders, massaging his feet. 

Dinner was a more difficult time. Viktor was feeling his own rut start creeping through him. He wanted meat, he wanted Jayce in his lap, he wanted to sink his teeth into the beautiful crest of Jayce’s ass, to mark him. They could barely get to the dinning table without pulling at each other, lips sealed, tongues tangling together. But eventually Viktor gets Jayce sat down in a chair, hand on his cock. 

“Just order something, use my card, I’ll eat anything you give me, I don’t care. I wanna get you in bed, wanna put a baby in you.” Jayce said, voice rolling as he looked at Vik, hand stroking himself quickly, eyes big and dopey. He laid his head down against the table, eyes staying locked on Viktor as he leaned back against the sink, staring back. Jayce couldn’t tear his eyes away, dotted pale skin covered by his braces and his small white briefs. He wanted to mark him up, roll him over, and fuck him till he was calm and bred up. 

“You have to wait till I’ve- I’ve eaten. Then we can go… handle it. And bath. And then sleep because tomorrow when I start, I won’t stop.” Viktor said, his put together facade crumbling a little. He was in full control of himself, knowing exactly what he wanted and what needed to happen, but he was still just an alpha with wants. He wanted to get started right at that moment, but Jayce needed to be well rested and he himself needed to be in full rut. A bitching would take them both out of rut once completed, so they both needed to be in full season. 

“Fu-uck, please?” Jayce begged as he got closer, one hand wrapping around his swelling knot as the other kept working his shaft. It would be one of his last orgasms of this rut, Viktor thought he should enjoy it. Jayce groaned as he came, shivering as he ruined the underside of their dining table. 

Viktor pulled his phone out, taking a moment to snap a photo, just to save for later, print out and put in their shoebox perhaps, before ordering more food. Not just hot food but snacks and treats for later. Some things that would soothe Jayce in his state. And some sleep aid. 

Jayce was panting, squeezing his knot as his eyes closed. Viktor came up to him, rubbing his back, hand petting over his spine. 

“So pretty. Get under there and lick it up.” Viktor said, the worth like filth flowing easily off his tongue. Jayce gasped and tensed for a second before looking up at his mate, searching to see if he was serious. Viktor stared down at him, testing him, seeing how far he’d listen while dumb in rut. 

Jayce slipped onto his knees from the chair, eyes stuck on Viktor as he got under the table. When he finally looked away, towards the mess he’d created, he turned white. There was so much. And it smelled like alpha cum, making him a little nauseous. He opened his mouth though, because Viktor wanted him too, and went to lick the dusty unfinished wood but Viktor snapped his fingers. 

“Such an obedient thing. Good boy.” Viktor said, voice deep, heavy with lust as he stopped Jayce. The younger alpha watched as he got a kitchen towel and wetted it in the sink, handing it to him, damp and warm. Jayce looked between his mate and the towel, and up at his mess before Viktor bent down, leaning heavily on his cane as he met Jayce’s eyes. 

“Clean it with the towel. You don’t need to lick it up.” Viktor said, smiling at his boyfriend as his mind slowly processed the words. 

“I love you, Viktor” Jayce said with a dopey smile as he started to clean away the thick cum. 

“I love you too. I love you so much, Jayce.” Viktor said, the words so easy to say as he thought about how good the next day would be. How receptive Jayce was going to be. How Jayce would be so beautiful with his bite mark. 

The night settled with Jayce knotting his fleshlight, tucked between Viktor’s legs, dopey and warm. Viktor watched as he slept, tucking a few stray hairs back into place, enjoying the calm rolling heat that was settling into his gut. He’d be in full rut tomorrow, ready to make Jayce his. Forever. 

Next Chapter >

[silveredlies]

Half truths and lies of omission were where he worked best. To twist something poisoned and corrupt so that it resembled beauty to be offered was a skill all on its own. There was no need for spells to charm of hypnotize save for some here and there when he had the power of words at his fingertips. Gaining desired information, turning others against their closest allies, stirring up battles in times of conflicts, all for his own gain. It was always nice that his hard work was noticed rather than those that bought in to a beautiful lie. Fools only bored him in the end. There were no true games if there was no challenge or perhaps he had simply become jaded in more ways than he thought. As for play acting, "Fior was smart to play along, though I am a little disappointed he knew already. I put quite a bit of effort in to that one. The necromancer boy, though...all it took was a drink. The Deathrunners leave a lot to be desired if they make someone so foolish their Underboss. I felt bad for him, truly."

To be brought into a lie so easily, there had been a touch of guilt when Mathias had left. Just barely, he had certainly done far worse in his long life. But now likely, his games wouldn't work any longer save for perhaps the bottom of the barrel folks. The ones ranked so low that they wouldn't be brought in to conversations of the Blood Witch. A true shame. Seeing the games come to their conclusion was always a bit disappointing but there were things to do before he found out what a deity could do to an insubordinate blood witch.

As he felt the small push towards himself, Corvinus wasted no time pushing back with his own aura of magic. Letting it seep through just slightly, pressing against the naga. But while the other radiated desire, his own was tainted with rage. Not towards Suresh, not right now, but often how his magic displayed itself. It was hatred and spite that allowed him to obtain his powers and still the powerful motivators that kept him going rather than secluding himself in his estate and watching the world fade away through the windows. But he was quick to pull his back and draw the small taste back into himself. They toyed with different weapons. "I think I'll just keep this one. Though it is adorable how keen you are to keep my jacket away. I'm not above self-maiming to get blood I need if pushed." Suresh had seen how quickly he had healed, there was no point pretending as if blood draw wasn't a tedious task. He felt the tail loosely wrap itself around his ankle though he didn't pull away. "Careful now," he gave a soft warning. The touch was fine so long as it didn't descend into violence and fighting again.

Still at the topic of the Nameless leader, Corvinus gave a sigh that was annoyed. As if it was a topic he didn't much care for. His lips pursed, leaning back into the couch with his arms stretched over the top and legs crossing. An image of openness and walls at the same time. His eyes moved to the windows, a long silence as he focused on the scenes down below. Fingers of one hand were tapping, dancing on the couch as though he were trying to come up with the perfect words. "...I'll grant you another trust," he finally spoke and attention rounding back to Suresh, "I said before you were the reason I came here. True in a way, but you weren't the one that initially drew my attention to the city. Just a happy perk." He thought about how far he should go, how careful to be. Whatever story he gave for the Nameless was a truth in a way considering where he was, so was the other. "I've been hunting while exploring the lovely city. The reason you haven't been able to reach the leader is because, well...he hasn't been here."

He'd been traveling, giving orders from afar, while gathering supplies and powers since his binding to the god. And trying to find a way to sever that same bond. "He came in to my country a few months ago. While I don't claim her lands, I ensure that my isles, my homeland, is safe. You wanted to know why I was here, I was drawn out. Forced into a game I had no intention of getting involved in to ensure me and my own are left alone. You want to know why I chose you three over the Nameless? You didn't interrupt my peace of mind. So I provoked, I taunted, all to create more noise to lure out what I wanted. Honestly, you lot did most of the work for me. And once I'm certain this is handled with the meeting, I will return home to my domain and continue my own works." Everything was stated so bluntly with that hint of annoyance on the topic. It was truths....though it was more the deity itself had lured and forced his involvement rather than any Leader in the shadows.

"I imagine he was still rather stuffy, even eighty years ago. Though an improvement over his predecessor." He listened and nodded, the reason why Callum as still alive was the one where their stories matched up the best. He survived simply because the Witch hadn't felt like killing him. But Corvinus' need to gloat was a delightful bit of petty that Suresh could understand. A sly smile breaking across his lips at the dog comment. However Suresh did have a healthy respect for Death, the Goddess and her chosen. Suresh didn't believe anyone, even Corvinus could outrun her indefinitely. Gold ophidian eyes drifted thoughtfully over the Witch's face. It was what he would do. Drop small seeds and hope the roots caused cracks... And the best doubts were plausible ones. Why would Callum lie about the reason behind the fight? What did it matter if he was following the charge of his Goddess? Suresh already knew how unhappy the Lightless Leader would be finding out how this exchange went between the Witch and him tonight.

The sly smile turned into a graciously amused grin, and the Naga shook his head. "Please. Take this as the compliment that it's meant to be. You are one of the most accomplished half-truth speaker I have ever met." Suresh shook his head, he was a prideful creature but he was careful and observant. Even while he played the total hedonist Suresh knew there was far more under the surface of Corvinus. He'd gotten a small peek behind the curtain and he had gotten a taste of how much was still hidden. Labyrinthian depths. "I heard you went play acting to a few others too... I hear everything... eventually."

Suresh relaxed a little, letting his body uncoil slightly. He had only glamoured his hands, not bothering with the rest of it. The talons were useful but they were just one small brutal piece of his arsenal. "The offer to replace the one I ruined is still there. But you do look nice in my shirt." His eyes drifted over his shoulder and chest, nodding, "I knew that one would fit you." Eternity was a long time to have to plan, to remember slightly, to hold grudges. Suresh slowly manipulated his little game board of the city, making moves that were designed to not pay off for a generation or longer. Position himself carefully in order to strike the quickest and best blow. The people that truly drew his ire he dismantled brick by brick. Methodical and cruel until all they desired was release from the misery. But it had been a long time since he'd felt the need to do that.

The feel of the warm hand in his own, electricity that he couldn't help jumping from skin to skin, it was just part of what he was, a soft pulse of desire. But nothing that couldn't be shrugged off by the Witch. Because yes, to touch someone that could ignore that soft current that drew people to him was lovely. Dangerous and alluring. His eyes watched as Corvinus brought Suresh's hand to his lips and kissed it. Terribly charming. And Suresh's eyes softened at the caress as he searched for the lie, for the flinch. The Naga wanted to tell him that he should fear them... but who was he to correct the other? A mischievous glint came into his eye as he drew his hand back. Letting them rest in his lap, golden nails tracing his own scales absently, "I have to confess, I haven't been that excited in ages..." He let his tail drift down and loosely curl itself around one of Corvinus' ankles. The Witch had accepted the hand, so why not push a little?

Listening to the Witch again it had that taste of truth enough. Missing pieces. What was one witch? The sentence made Suresh reguard Corvinus' thoughtfully before he answered, "Depends on the Witch..." The comment about the not being considered a god made the Naga shrug. "One cultures monster is another's god. Who knows? Maybe in another five hundred years someone will make a shrine to the Immortal Blood Witch and burn effigies to you?" Suresh's mind drifted back to his Advisor and the Lightless Emissary. So many coincidences... "Something I am curious about, where did you find him? You might be a wonderful lure but you had to post up somewhere to get his attention... And we've been attempting to reach out for a long while now... I simply must know, where was it?"

[star--nymph]

thinking about how as a templar, Cullen wasn't functioning as a person. He was just a cog in a machine; a rusted, chipped one that screeched when it connected with another cog, but a cog nevertheless. Templars don't have belongings, they don't have interests, they forfeit their family, if they are allowed to marry it's under strict guidelines. the lyrium isn't just there to make the powerful, it's to make them subservient, in theory it is meant to be the leash that yanks when the templars speaks for themselves or others. You want to rebel, you want to advocate for others? The leash can be pulled, taking you further and further away from a new drought of lyrium.

no one pays a templar to think. you are there for the honor and love of the Maker and you swing your sword for Him and no one else

and when he comes out of it, what does Cullen have? His suit of armor, his sword, his mantle, maybe an under shirt and a pair of breeches, and his coin

the coin that was his one act of rebellion in his seventeen year tenure

no one wonder he says to a romance inquisition 'when it started, I hadn't considered much beyond our survival' because why would he? Templars don't have futures, they have service and they either die in service or die on the street, starved of lyrium and dignity. It's an act of rebellion in and of itself for Cullen to think he has the possibility of a future with anyone or anything

maybe that's the greatest gift an inquisitor, romanced or not, can give him--a chance to leave service and for once, be a person with dreams and desires. And what does he do when he's given that? He creates a sanctuary for other templars, so they may no what it's like to be a person as well.

[caspersscareschool]

he literally sews his kids stupid little outfits from scratch does anyone even fucking care